#but part of me needed this scene to be shared

[driverlando]

✧.* GOOD GIRL

synopsis- Charles fucks you infront of a mirror and calls you good girl which has an effect on you (Charles leclerc x f!reader)

before you read- smut warning, minors dni!! If you like it, please reblog and follow! I’m new here and would appreciate the support. Thanks! :)

The bedroom was cast in the soft glow of candlelight, the flickering flames casting dancing shadows on the walls. You and Charles had always shared an intense passion, but tonight, there was a different kind of energy between you—a raw, untamed desire that crackled in the air like a live wire.

Charles stood behind you, his strong hands gripping your hips as you bent forward, your palms pressed against the cool surface of the dresser. The large mirror in front of you reflected the scene, giving you a clear view of your entwined bodies. Your eyes were half-lidded with pleasure, your lips parted in a silent moan as Charles thrust into you with a rhythm that was both relentless and perfectly controlled.

His movements were powerful, each thrust sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body. You felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge, every nerve ending alight with sensation. Charles’s grip tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you with increasing intensity.

“Tu es si belle,” (you are so beautiful) he murmured, his voice dripping with lust as he watched you in the mirror. “Regarde-toi. Regarde ce que tu me fais.” (Look at yourself. Look at what you're doing to me)

Your breath hitched at his words, the eroticism of the moment heightened by his intense gaze. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the reflection, the sight of Charles dominating you, your bodies moving in perfect synchronicity. Sweat aligned his muscular body, his chest red from the thrusting and pleasure, his hair falling into his forehead. It was like a scene straight out of a porno and it had you whimpering softly.

Suddenly, he delivered a sharp slap to your ass, the sound echoing through the room and sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. You cried out, your body arching in response to the delicious sting. Charles’s hand then tangled in your hair, pulling your head back so you could see his reflection in the mirror.

You whined in protest when he paused, your body aching for more. “Push yourself back on me,” he commanded, his voice a low growl.

Your eyes widened in the mirror, your expression one of confusion and desire. “What?” you panted, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Push yourself back on me,” Charles repeated, his grip on your hair tightening slightly.

Tentatively, you began to move, pushing your hips back against him. The sensation was different, but incredibly arousing. You watched yourself in the mirror, your movements becoming more confident as you followed his instruction.

“Yeah… just like that… good girl,” Charles praised, his voice filled with approval.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your body responding with a newfound eagerness. You pushed back against him with more force, your eyes locked on his in the mirror. There was something intoxicating about the way he watched you, his gaze filled with a mix of lust and admiration.

“Like this?” you asked breathlessly, your voice barely more than a whisper.

Charles’s eyes darkened with desire as he watched you. “Yeah, just like that… good girl,” he repeated, his voice shaky with need.

The praise seemed to ignite something within you, and you found yourself moving with more urgency, more desperation. Each time he called you a good girl, you felt a rush of pleasure that made you push back harder, seeking more of the sweet agony.

Charles noticed the effect his words had on you, a smug smile playing on his lips. He began to call you that more frequently, his voice a constant murmur of encouragement and praise. “Good girl… you’re doing so well… keep going…Mon amour”

Your body was on fire, every nerve ending ablaze with sensation. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of release, the intensity of your coupling pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

With one final, powerful thrust, Charles sent you over the edge, your body convulsing with the force of your orgasm. You cried out, your voice echoing through the room as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over you.

Charles followed you into the abyss, his own release tearing through him as he held you close, your bodies locked together in a moment of perfect unity. You collapsed onto the nearby bed, your limbs entwined, hearts pounding in sync.

Breathless and sated, you lay together in a tangle of limbs, the room filled with the heady scent of your passion. Your head rested on Charles’s chest, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breathing soothing you.

“You’re amazing,” Charles mumbled into your hair, his voice lazy and content. “Mon chérie, you were incredible.”

You smiled, your eyelids heavy as you nuzzled closer to him. “You too,” you whispered, your words barely audible against the blanket. “So good.”

Charles reached over to the nightstand, grabbing his water bottle. “Here, drink some,” he murmured, holding it to your lips.

You took a few sips, the cool water refreshing you. “Thank you,” you said softly, your voice a sleepy murmur.

Charles placed the bottle back on the nightstand after taking a sip or two himself and then wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. “I loved watching you in the mirror,” he said, his words muffled against the blanket. “Seeing you like that… it was something else.”

“Mmm,” you agreed, your eyes fluttering closed. “It was really hot.”

Charles’s fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. “We should do it again sometime,” he suggested, a hint of a smile in his voice.

You chuckled softly. “Definitely,” you agreed, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

As you drifted off to sleep, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you, wrapped in the afterglow of your passion. Your hearts beating in perfect harmony.

[look-at-the-soul]

The Photoshoot - Part 50

Cillian Murphy series 2014, 2015

I’m sorry for not posting this sooner! Sometimes time flies and when I realize it’s boom 🤯 a month went by… but my love for these two will always make me enjoy the most for each part. And I can’t believe this story reached part 50!!?!! Like how ?

Ps. Happy birthday Cill 💙✨

Word count: 3,628

Cillian waved at the crew team as they left him in front of his hotel. As it got chiller, he shivered and walked into the small convinience store to get a bottle of water, strolling through the aisles, he found a stuffed duck and immediately thought of Scout, he loved ducks. As he walked past some people, he was aware of the glances and deep down he knew the reason.

The infamous Thomas Shelby haircut.

“Hello you.” He greeted his wife after answering his phone.

“Hey baby, how have you been?” Yael’s voice spread softly to his heart.

“Missing you like crazy.” He admitted realizing he probably sounded corny.

“Well I miss you more.”

Cillian placed the phone between his shoulder and cheek to grab something.

“Give me a sec.” He managed to make it to the register balancing the items in his arms and politely asked the cashier if she could cut the tag from the stuffed animal.

“What was that?” Yael chuckled softly.

“I’m buying some stuff.” He put his wallet in his back pocket and made it out of the store. “How’s it going? How are you ladies doing?”

“I took Mum to a yoga class and then we had breakfast at this cute little café and more ladies stuff.” She explained and he could easily imagine her playing with one of her curls with a beautiful smile on her lips.

“Oh tell me more about that girls stuff.” He stopped at the red light, checking the signal to cross the street.

“We’re getting manis and pedis later.” He loved hearing her laugh. “And oh! Yesterday when we were walking, we found an antiques shop…”

“Oh shit.” He interrupted in a playful tone.”

“Stop it.” She giggled.

“And what gorgeous rare-to-find item did you discover this time?” Cillian asked not being able to stop the smile from growing in his lips. He knew Yael too damn well.

“A painting.” Yael replied shyly. “And I immediately fell in love with it.” She rushed to explain to cover for her excitement.

Cillian laughed, seeing already the scene in his mind. His wife had a weakness for antiques, but he had to admit she had a good taste.

“It’s beautiful and the frame it’s the original, took me a while to properly clean it.” She continued.

“I bet you didn’t stop until getting it hanged.”

“Actually I didn’t, still trying to decide what’s the right place.” He heard Scout barking in the background. “How’s the scouting going?”

“Grand, grand… later we’re going somewhere else, we need some scenes by the river and the caravans look fucking phenomenal.” He explained.

The project was around the corner and he tensed his shoulders involuntarily at the thought of embarking once more into the character’s chaos.

“I can’t wait to see everything up.”

“Alright baby, I’ll let you go to your pedi time, call you later.” Cillian told her that he love her and walked into the store trying to keep a low profile.

He needed to pick up the gift he ordered for Yael.

***

“Mrs. Lieberman, Mrs. Murphy welcome.” The social worker asked them to take their seats. “Let’s see,” she seemed to focus on a sheet before her, the desk had a pile of folders and papers organized with colorful post it. “I understand you traveled for this appointment.”

“Yes, my home is in London.” Isla crossed her leg. “But right now I’m staying with my daughter.”

“I see.”

It was hard to tell anything from Mrs. O’Brien’s expression. Her lips were in a tight line and Yael always felt uneasy, not knowing if she was sharing too much or if she shouldn’t have said that.

“Would you like to tell me about your family and the dynamic you share?”

As Isla went on to talk about her children, talked about how they traveled frequently to be together as much as they could and then she shared a small snippet of a birthday party she held for one of her grandchildren.

“So how would an adoption blend into this? How do you feel about that?”

Although the question was meant to set anyone back and make you question yourself, Isla managed to pull a great comeback.

“Do you mean if I’d love that children less because it’s not biologically my grandchild?” She asked openly and when she saw the social worker nod, she went on. “My husband picked me up from the ground when I was at my lowest point emotionally and economically, for months I saw my daughter struggling with physical therapy to recover from the accident and surgery after surgery and not only that, he took my children as his own and loved us unconditionally, the same goes for our grandchildren. He never made one single comment about not being linked by blood or sharing DNA with any of them, I wouldn’t know how to love Yael and Cillian’s child any other way.”

Yael had to fight back the tears that formed in her eyes. There it was, the woman who always inspired her, opening her heart to say just what she thought.

“To me,” Isla continued. “It’s not about sharing the same genetics… it’s something deeper than that, it’s about choosing to love, care and protect for another human being without waiting anything in return and I know this takes a lot of time and steps but I can assure you my daughter and her husband will be the most loving parents if you give them the chance.”

Quietly, Yael excused herself and walked out of the office, she wasn’t needed there anyways. Emotions were suffocating her and it was impossible to prevent it. Perhaps it was the fact that Cillian was away, or her Mother’s words that touched her heart. But either way, she needed a break, to keep her guard down and trust the process and its own time. But who was she trying to fool? It was damn hard and sometimes it felt like it would never happen.

“This has been extremely hard for my daughter, the process is wearing her out, but I understand this is not like going to the grocery shop and picking a kid. I know it takes time and you’ve to follow protocols and forms, but trust me, she’s the most loving person I know and motherhood has always been her biggest dream.”

“We cannot base the approval on that Mrs. Lieberman, we need to check background, records, psychology tests… we’re talking about a vulnerable child’s life.”

Isla nodded, not wanting to upset the social worker.

“May I ask how long does it takes to finalize?”

The social worker shuddered. “It can be months… even years.”

Isla’s heart shattered by the statement. She wanted to keep a positive spirit, but the time frame wasn’t very helpful.

“That long? And there’s nothing you can do?”

The social worker shook her head. “We’ve to complete each step.”

“But there are so many kids in orphanages.” She had seen it first hand, since the following day she arrived, they went to give away the books Yael bought for the children, spent hours there reading to them. It was bittersweet, but she was grateful for sharing a moment like that with her daughter.

Yael wasn’t doing it just to look good for the adoption process, she was doing it because she learned it filled her heart and soul, because she wanted to make those kids happy.

“I just wish you get everything you need to approve their adoption, they’re eager to welcome their child into their happy little family.”

“We want nothing but the very same.”

Ending the meeting, Isla went to search for her daughter. Her heart beating faster, she just wanted the best for Yael and Cillian.

“There you’re sweetie, shall we go somewhere?”

“Yes, I need some fresh air.” Yael helped her put in her coat and the pair went to the parking lot.

“I probably shouldn’t have stormed off like that.” Yael regretted her reaction.

“Don’t worry about that, the interview was meant to be just for me, and this is draining.”

“But they seem to be monitoring everything, every little thing you do and say.” Yael waited for her green light to take a turn.

“I know you and you’re probably tired of hearing this, but try to take this one step at the time, be patient. I’m sure the reward is around the corner.”

Yael knew her mother’s words were filled with the best intentions, but it was just like telling someone grieving to not feel sad about losing someone they love.

“Let’s focus on something else sweetheart, let’s go to clear our heads for a bit.” Isla proposed, worried about her daughter, she wanted to do something to cheer her up.

“Yeah, we’ve the appointment at the salon already.”

“Yes, that’s a wonderful idea.”

Yael took a deep breath. “I don’t want to tell Cill about this just yet. He needs to focus on his next project and this isn’t exactly a major step or something that tells me we’re getting good news soon.”

Yael took a U turn at the next available exit, following the instructions in the GPS.

As she was driving, her phone started ringing and Cillian’s face appeared on the screen.

“Hey handsome, I was thinking of you.”

“I got a notification marked as urgent that you left somewhere, are you alright?”

“Yeah, we just finished the interview with the social worker and I’m taking Mum for a walk. It’s the app I downloaded for you, it keeps you updated of where am I and stuff like that.”

“Oh so I can spy on you?” He joked and made Isla chuckled. “How did it go?”

Yael took a deep breath before answering her husband. “I hope well.”

“I’m sure of it.” He offered through the phone. “Why don’t you go to the movies to shake it off?” Cillian proposed.

Yael gasped at the suggestion. “That’s a great idea!”

“Yeah.” He added thinking how it had been a while since they went out. Lately he had been focusing on the script and nothing else, he felt bad because as he was getting more and more engrossed on the role, he started to grow apart from his wife. And although she never pointed it out, now that her mother was around, he was noticing the difference.

She was so supportive of each of his projects and with the adoption process, he wanted to make sure they were still connected.

“Listen, I’ve been thinking… why don’t start planning a holiday during Christmas? Or by the time I finish filming? Let’s go wherever you want, hmm?”

“Oh that’s really nice!” Isla agreed, noticing the smile on her daughter’s lips.

“I’d love that.” A few days away just the two of them? Yael was already looking forward to it.

“Alright, it’s settled then, I’m heading to the set now, let me know when you get home.”

“Will do.” Telling Cillian, she loved him, Yael hang up.

“He’s amazing.” Isla expressed, getting out of the car, as they arrived at the salon.

“I can’t wait for that holiday already, I feel like he’s been rehearsing since forever.”

She wanted nothing but have a good rest and not worry about anything else.

“Hello, welcome.” A woman greeted them and asked if they had an appointment.

Yael left her purse by a chair and started checking the nail colors options.

“You look so much alike!” The woman pointed at Isla and Yael in shock. “It’s like you did copy-paste.”

Yael blushed, she was so used to get those kind of reactions, specially now that her mother was sporting her natural curls freely.

Another woman at the salon pointed out the same in awe.

“Thanks. We hear that a lot.” Yael chuckled.

“So who’s Isla?” A kind smile appeared on her face just as a woman that was getting a haircut turned from her chair.

“That’d be me.” Yael’s mother replied waving her hand.

“Isla?” The woman turned around to face. “Isla is that you?”

“Barbara?” Her mother asked cautiously.

Yael looked the exchange with confusion.

“Oh my God I can’t believe it’s you!” Isla covered her mouth with her hands.

As the two women moved to closer to hug, Yael stared at the scene trying to understand the story behind their familiarity.

“It’s been what? A lifetime.” Isla continued.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you, but after all this time, you still look the same.”

Then, Isla looked around, noticing her daughter’s stare. “Goodness! Let me introduce you to my daughter, Yael, she’s my youngest.”

“Nice to meet you.” Yael greeted the woman.

“She’s Barbara, I used to babysit her and her sister. I was in my early 20’s.” Isla explained her daughter. “And one day, I never saw you again.”

“She looks just like you.” Barbara admitted. “You knew they took us to a government facility?”

Isla gasped in shock. “So it was true.”

“After a few months, someone adopted my sister and I never saw her again, she was only five years old back then, I waited but when I turned eighteen they kicked me out.” Barbara explained.

“You never saw her again?” Isla asked, her heart breaking in the process.

“No, I’ve been searching for her for so many years with no luck.”

“Uhm excuse me? We’ve a full agenda, could we continue while you catch up?” The hairstylist pointed at Bárbara’s wet hair.

“Sorry! Yes.” She stretched her arm towards Isla. “Mind if we go somewhere after we’re done here?”

Isla nodded, feeling like a knot installed in her stomach.

***

Cillian stood in the middle of Arley Hall mesmerized. The place was magnetic, beautiful and oozed this old vibe mansion in every corner.

“What do you think?” Steven asked, standing next to him.

“It’s amazing.” He turned around and moved away just as some crew walked past them with some furniture.

“They’re closing it to the public while we’re filming.” Steven stood there watching everything with his hands on his hips and a smile on his face.

“Are we filming everywhere?” Cillian crossed his arms imagining the scenes in this place, it was a luxury property and according to the script this was Tommy’s ultimate dream house, where he officially kick off and gets what he always wanted.

His ambitions finally materializing, his dreams becoming a reality.

Oh, but the price Tommy would have to pay…

Cillian wandered around. He learned it had been once the home of a wealthy family, it was spacious, the view to the garden was fantastic, part of the house included a cellar, and the second floor was as incredible as the first one, but for the upstairs part, they had constructed a replica on one of the sets.

As he kept walking, he arrived at the kitchen area one floor below, he had never seen something like that, it was rustic and had a huge pantry and an area where they kept the meat stored.

It was a dream, he was practically drooling over it. It was so easy to get lost and imagine how everything would look as soon as the crew got it ready for filming. Walking around, he ended in the dining room, a couple of important scenes would be filmed there.

“I think this needs something else, but I don’t know what.” Steven joined him.

It oozed luxury, it was elegant. The chandeliers sparkled, curtains with fabric that looked so expensive. Cillian imagined the kind of life the previous owners carried before it was purchased as wedding venue and a place open to the public to visit.

“A painting.” Cillian suggested casually. “A huge arse portrait.”

Steven turned around to stare at Cillian, eyes wide open as the realization hit him hard and fast.

“Yes, right there in the back of the main seat.”

Cillian nodded, hands hiding inside his pockets. It was involuntary, but it was part of the essence of his character. He couldn’t help it.

“Can your wife be in charge?”

He nodded quietly.

“Give her a call.”

But he didn’t need to do so. Because his phone started ringing in that very moment and it was Yael.

“Hello beautiful, I was just about to call you.”

“You’ve to sit down, you’re not going to believe this.” Yael started off. She sounded like there was something important she wanted to tell him.

“What’s the matter? Is everything fine?” Quietly he decided to take a walk outside, away from someone listening.

”Mum and I were at the salon, right? So when they call her name, this woman immediately recognized Mum and went to greet her, they chat for a bit. Long story short my Mum used to babysit Barbara -the woman-, when they were younger but one day she and her sister were taken away and she never saw them again.”

Cillian listened carefully, waiting for his wife to tell him the full story.

“Barbara is the Director of the child services office.” She explained him, his heart started beating faster. “She took us to her office, took a look at our records, studies, everything,” Cillian heard her taking a deep breath, “babe, it turns out we were in some kind of blacklist.”

Silence filled the call, Cillian inhaled deeply. “Why?”

“This is horrible but… have you noticed how celebrities go to places like Nigeria or Africa to adopt?”

Cillian kicked a rock he found on his way, processing that piece of information. “Yeah?”

“I don’t know about the adoption process over there, but apparently it’s easier, no questions asked and overnight, they’ve a child, we’ll thanks to that, the kind of surroundings to these celebrities lifestyle they practically catalogued us in that list so we’d never ever get the adoption finalized.” Yael’s words came out rushed.

Cillian felt a vein in his temple pulsing. “Are you telling me because I’m an actor, they practically rejected our application without telling us?”

The realization of his own words made his heart sink to the ground. Not getting the chance to move forward with the adoption process and his wife’s sadness was his fault?

Misery took over him.

“Hold on, I know what you’re thinking.” Yael interrupted his thoughts. “Not everything is as bad as it seems, this woman, Barbara she told us, basically… she’s going to help us! I asked her what do we’ve to do in order to be out of the blacklist and she gave me hope Cill, she explained us a lot of things no one told us about and I understand the reasons why they just can’t give kids to whoever starts a process, but she said literally I know your Mother, and she was always kind to me and my sister, she gave us food when we had nothing, she shared her clothes with us too, I can imagine the kind of daughter she raised.”

Emotion took over her voice, it was impossible not to feel everything right in the surface.

“How are we so sure that they won’t make it harder because of what I do for a living?” He was still processing the impact his career had, never thought it would be a negative reason in the adoption.

“She assured us she’d take our case personally.”

Despite Yael’s words, Cillian still felt doubtful now. Feeling guilty that he was the reason of not being able to adopt a child.

“So what are we supposed to do now? We’ve been begging them for the interviews.”

Yael had been calling almost daily to get the appointments, and now he was able to understand why the process had been so hard, they were trying to push them back.

“Barbara told me she’d give me a call, but I guess we’ve to wait to hear the next steps.”

When her mother told her what the social worked mentioned during her interview, Yael felt deflated. Hearing the process could take years to finalize shattered her heart. But now there was a new chance to move things forward with Barbara behind their case.

Cillian stared into the huge garden, not paying attention to anything in particular.

“Are you still there?” His wife’s voice made him snap back into reality.

“Yeah… just thinking.”

He really wanted to feel her new enthusiasm and positivism, but he also couldn’t help but feel worried, what if they have to face new challenges in the process, all this bureaucracy because of his job? He wasn’t sure to be able to deal with the guilt of knowing that because of him the process could be harder or take longer than usual because he needs to prove that he isn’t like most of Hollywood stars.

This whole thing was a roller coaster, sometimes it was Yael the one feeling down, now it was his turn while she had her hopes up. He hated to admit it but it was draining.

“If you hear anything back, call me yeah? Or text me.” He added after a few seconds, not wanting to drag her down because of his attitude.

“Absolutely.”

“Listen, Steven wants to do some photos, so I think I’m going to change my flight… your Mum is already flying back, why don’t you come with her?”

Yael took her time, to consider her options. “How many days?”

“Just a couple, to get a few photos done.”

“Okay, let me organize my planner and see how can I reorganize the things I’ve scheduled and also I need someone to look after Scout.”

“I’ll call my brother, don’t worry.” He went on walking again, sitting on the edge of the fountain. “I really want to see you.”

She wanted the same, needed to feel him close.

Tag list: @lyarr24 @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan

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@moral-terpitude @babaohhhriley @queenshelby @ange-thoughts @shaddixlife

@sloanexx @cilliansangel (cant tag) @rangerelik @already-broken144 @alessioayla

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[turtletaubwrites]

Numbers Game ~ Part 22

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader x Shanks

Numbers Game Masterlist

Word Count: 4300

Ao3 Link

Series Playlist: Youtube Music Link | Youtube Link

Summary: It's the morning of the big event, and these lovers are distracted, stuck in their own minds. Too many truths, and too many fears seem to pull everyone apart.

Author's Note: This chapter contains big DRAMA, GUILT, & SMUT. Pretty much no one's having a good morning until they decide to blow off some steam. Our lovely reader is NOT in a good mental state right now with all of her fears looming today, but the majority of the chapter is from the boy's POV. I apologize for all the angst, I swear this story won't be so angsty forever! 😭😬

Alternate POV Symbols:

🌲 ~ Flashbacks from Reader's Past | 🐊 ~ Crocodile | 🗡 ~ Mihawk | 🤡 ~ Buggy | 🔴 ~ Shanks | ⚫ ~ Scenes depicting panic attacks and/or big trauma (These symbols will bracket sections to denote the POV shift)

!!! SPOILER WARNING !!! Fic contains spoilers for the end of the Wano arc

Rating/Warnings: Author May Choose to Exclude some Warnings to Avoid Spoilers for Certain Chapters, Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Use of Y/N, Dark Content, Blood & Violence, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Dissociation, Grief, Swearing, Alcohol, Cigars, Smut, Fluff, Angst, Guilt, Drama, Jealousy, Manipulation, Pet Names, Power Imbalance, Cross Guild boys are VILLAINS, Possessive Behavior, Pain Kink, Teasing, Threats, Size Difference, Daddy Kink, Gagging, PIV Sex, Creampie, Hair-Pulling, Scratching, Inappropriate Use of Akuma no Mi | Devil Fruit Powers, Shameless Shameless Smut, Other Additional Tags to Be Added

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

“Shh, babygirl,” Crocodile soothed, kissing Y/N’s temple to quiet the hint of that sick laughter on her lips. She’d woken up with the word ‘daddy,’ on her tongue, but the tinge of sorrow in her voice, and the sheen of sweat on her skin told him she hadn’t been calling for him. 

The sight of that red haired bastard in his bed would have sent him into violence, but he couldn’t look away from her, from her quivering lips. He brushed the hair from her face, trying to smile, trying to be comforting.

Don’t leave me, sweetheart. Not before I can help you with this.

The thought of his girl all alone after that trauma, all alone without her father to care for her so young hit him deep. It felt like he’d been gutted by his own hook. 

It’s my fault. She’s gonna leave because I’m a monster. 

The image of her terror filled eyes wouldn’t shake loose from his mind, just as she couldn’t shake loose from his hook around her neck. Her feet had dangled, tears staining her cheeks while she held her tongue to protect her lover. 

Told her I’d kill her. Told her I’d sell her. Told her–

Crocodile had to look away from her, clenching his eyes shut to ward off the vision in his mind. 

The vision of hurting her. Hurting something, someone precious to him. Skewering her on his hook like a piece of meat, the scent of her blood on the wind as it soaked into the sand below her.

No.

Shanks was distracting his boys. Buggy’s eyes were wide as the red haired pirate leaned over to kiss his shoulder, rubbing his hand along the swordsman’s thigh while he did.

But Mihawk was looking at him.

Crocodile glanced away quickly, telling himself it was because that sight was too annoying to deal with this early. 

It was. 

“Come with me, sweet girl. Since these boys clearly have better things to do.”

“Looks like someone woke up on the—“

“Don’t be an ass, Shanks. We have a lot to take care of this morning,” Mihawk scolded. Crocodile clenched his jaw at the teasing lilt in his little prince's voice. More than sex.

More than what he'd shared with him.

Y/N crawled out of bed to take Crocodile’s hand, his clown following close behind to kiss her on the cheek. 

She’s the one that needs our attention.

Shanks looked too pleased after Mihawk’s reprimand, apologizing while he kissed up the back of his neck. The swordsman’s argument was weak, his eyes fluttering shut when that red haired bastard nibbled on his ear. 

He lied. 

~~~🐊🐊🐊~~~

~~~~~~

The world was a blur, and you let yourself be guided, cared for. Breakfast was held before a line of servants and officers, all taking their turns in front of your intimidating group to give their reports, to take their orders. 

“I need to check with Alvida about the party favors. Why don’t you relax for a while, sweetheart? You’ve done enough.”

Your clown had already chugged his too-sweet coffee, running off to his chaotic day. He'd left his head behind just long enough to plant a soft kiss on your lips. 

“See ya, star.”

Of course, Shanks had snatched that blue hair, stealing a kiss from your grumbling clown before letting him loose.

Crocodile smiled down at you, his eyes looking strained while you tried to understand what he’d said. 

“I’ll be checking in with security, but I’ll be back with plenty of time to help you get ready, darling,” Mihawk purred, his voice breaking through your fog to make you shiver. “Not that my little rabbit needs any help looking exquisite. You look good enough to eat this morning, love.”

“Mm, you are a tasty, little bunny.”

“Enough.”

Crocodile’s voice sliced through the air, bringing all eyes to his. He shifted his hook onto his lap, the movement only bringing attention to the thin line scraped across the table. He cleared his throat, turning to you while he spoke to the other men.

“This will be a stressful day. Y/N has to pander to a bunch of rich idiots she hates, just so we can all make some berry. My sweet girl deserves to be treated like a princess today. Don’t you dare ignore her, and if you two treat her like one of your fucking toys, then she and I will be drinking your blood instead of wine tonight.”

A look almost like regret flashed across his face when your eyes went wide, but you took his offered hand, ignoring the men he’d just threatened for you. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he soothed, his thumb rubbing along the back of your hand almost nervously before he pressed it to his lips. “Daddy’s gonna be scary today. Never to you, though. Never again, babygirl. I swear it.”

Your mind was still keeping you behind a wall, trying to protect at least the deepest parts of you from the sting of their inevitable betrayal. Yet… Silver eyes pulled you in, chains tightening until you couldn’t breathe. He swore it.

He hates liars.

Chills ran over your skin while you nodded, but you still couldn’t. Couldn’t risk it. 

Never.

“I’ll go double check the seating arrangements,” you decided. “Make sure the ushers don’t accidentally cause an international crisis.”

“My girl,” Crocodile hummed, kissing your cheek before scowling at the remaining pirates. You stared at the expanse of his back as he disappeared down the corridor, until you gasped at the touch of Mihawk’s cold fingers on your thigh.

“I won’t be long, darling. I’ll come, and find you. We can… relax before the big show. I’ll help my little princess forget all her worries.”

“Don’t call me that,” you breathed with no bite, aching for whatever distraction he could give. “Please, sir. Just call me–”

“Rabbit,” he purred, taking your lips in a slow kiss that made you melt, dropping the fork you forgot you were holding. 

“The prettiest bunny rabbit I ever did see,” Shanks praised, his sweet words sounding so delightfully filthy while Mihawk trailed his lips down your jaw to your neck. You found those brown eyes looking at you with even more wicked mirth than usual. 

“Executive Dracule, sir…”

“Don’t try interrupting on a normal day,” Mihawk warned, leaving a few more kisses on your skin before following the security officer down the hall. 

“Can I walk you to work, bunny?”

You took that offered hand, letting the red haired pirate’s charm distract you for a little while.

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

This is a dream.

Waking up to a world where both Buggy and Mihawk were with him, touching him, smiling at him, kissing him…

It was unreal. Shanks didn’t think anything could sour this feeling. Not that big, scaly villain. Not the stupid, greedy party on the way. Not even the strange distance in her eyes. 

Not until that distance grew around her, throwing a bucket of ice over him. 

What’s wrong…

That worry brought guilt, not just for his selfish desire to ignore everything besides his long awaited bliss, but for the feeling that he’d caused it. He’d pushed her further than he meant to, even though he had wanted to help her.

I wanted Buggy more. 

There it was. The bliss was fading fast, replaced by the reality of what he’d done to get it. 

This sad, empty girl. She hadn’t been empty when he got here. She’d been feisty. Brave. She’d cared.

“Y/N?”

She ignored him, calling for one of the servants. Shanks watched her work, watched her body shift into someone else. It was unsettling, like a doll that was almost perfectly lifelike. Almost real.

The twisting in the pit of his stomach only grew.

“You don’t have to stay here. You can go find Buggy, or Mihawk,” she suggested lightly, a smile that was too serene on her face. 

“Is it alright if we talk, sugar? Away from…”

Y/N’s eyes unfocused for a few seconds before she nodded, leading him to a conference room connected to the large banquet hall. Leaning against the oval table, she was still frighteningly unreal. She tilted her head, waiting, but Shanks had to force himself to speak. Force himself to get out all the words he knew he should say, no matter how much it made him want to jump out a window. 

I can do this. She deserves to hear it. Just say it.

“I wanted to tell you,” Shanks started weakly, gaining momentum, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn’t consider your feelings enough when I… I’ve missed Buggy for so long, but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry I put so much pressure on you. I used you, and I’m so sorry. It wasn’t right, no matter how much pain I was in.”

Y/N stared, eyes wide, unblinking.

“Everything I said is still true,” he promised, caution pulsing through him. “I’ll protect you, both of you. I would love to have you on my ship, if that’s what you want. But I’m sorry I–”

“You love him?”

Movement in her eyes, movement as she touched his arm. Shanks could breathe again when he saw life return. 

He didn’t realize that he didn’t hesitate at all.

“I do.”

Sweet, sad smile. Why…

“Take him.”

…

“What,” Shanks rasped, his brows scrunched together as if he couldn’t hear, hadn’t heard her.

“I forgive you. Please, take him. You should be together.”

“Y/N, what about–”

“I want him to be happy,” she ordered, and his eyes flared at the sudden fire in her veins. The anger. “I can’t go with you. Please make him happy.”

This isn’t right. She’s not right.

“Bunny…”

“Don’t tell him,” Y/N hissed, a bit of herself in her eyes as she leaned toward him, pleading. “I’ll convince him. Just promise me, please.”

Shanks’ lips parted, staring down at this strange girl. She fisted his shirt in her hands to pull him in, and he couldn’t resist, drawn toward her like a magnet.

“Promise you’ll love him,” Y/N demanded, fierce words almost spat against his lips. “Promise you'll make him happy.”

“Y/N–”

“Promise me.”

He couldn’t lie. Not against that beautiful, tortured look in her eyes. Not against the desperation in her voice. 

Shanks couldn’t lie. 

“I’ll love him with everything in me.”

She relaxed, letting Shanks hold her to him, and he felt her body sink into a looseness that was more concerning than comforting. Guilt filled him. Guilt and fear for what he’d put her through. For what she was running from, refusing their help with. It wasn't right.

“Please, let me help–”

“I just need a minute, thank you,” Y/N soothed. She pushed away from him gently, her voice calm, empty. “I’ll be fine.”

“Bunny, I can–”

“I asked you to fucking leave.”

Her fists had clenched, nails digging in while they shook over her lap, eyes going vicious when she snarled at him. 

What have I done?

“I’ll be fine. Just need a minute,” she smiled. The dissonance between those pleasant words, and the rage she’d just shoved down deep made this Emperor of the Sea’s hair stand on end. “Please.”

“Of course,” he gave in, leaving her presence slowly, backing away as if she were going to transform before his eyes. She didn’t. Y/N kept that empty, almost smile, and it made him want to throw up. 

What the fuck have I done?

“Don’t tell anyone.”

Ice slid down Shanks’ spine when he stared at her from the doorway, her bland face still hiding that wrong voice.

“You owe me.”

Shanks didn’t know he could feel this nauseated. Didn’t know he could feel this disgusted with himself while he looked at this sweet, sick girl that he’d played with too recklessly. 

“I won’t tell,” he breathed, the words feeling like bile in his throat. “I’ll just say you wanted a break.”

She thanked him. 

Shanks’ body walked away, but his mind couldn't. His guilt wouldn’t let him.

She thanked him for stealing her love. She thanked him for leaving her with that poison in her smile, that evil in her voice. The red haired pirate left that empty girl sitting on the conference table. He ran away from her like a frightened child. 

He had no fucking idea what to do.

“There’s the layabout,” Mihawk drawled as Shanks charged into the corridor. “Need me to find you a job to–”

“Y/N’s taking a break in the conference room,” he choked out, wanting to keep his promise, but still send her help, knowing that his eyes were crazed. “I think she could use some company.”

Mihawk knew him. Hawk could read him like a fucking book. The swordsman’s nostrils flared as if searching for her scent on the air, and he didn’t say a word before charging past Shanks. 

Charging past the coward that hurt her. That hurt the girl that both of his…

The man that hurt that sweet girl.

Fuck.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

That’s good.

That’s better. 

That means everything else is fine. 

Your feet dangled off the edge of the table while your eyes floated, not pulled toward anything while you imagined Buggy smiling, adventuring with his true love. The thoughts were relaxing, taking you out. 

If that happens, then everything is okay. Nothing else matters. 

“Little rabbit?”

“Hi, Mihawk,” you smiled, wanting him to take the rest away. “Are you here to help me relax?”

~~~~~~

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

“Who’s having a breakdown in the dressing room,” Buggy sighed, surprised at how well everything else was going. “Eliza? Why?”

Buggy stomped backstage, eyes scanning everyone, every stage hand, every performer, every prop lined up on the table. He sent a hand just to nudge something more into place, an unnecessary action as he’d done so well at preparing for this night.

Too well.

Buggy felt on edge without things to fix or people to yell at before a show. He couldn’t just sit around and wait, he’d go fucking insane. Especially with the confusing picture of the extra lover on the bed this morning stuck in his head. Especially with Y/N's smiles, so fake that he couldn't break through, couldn't find her. Especially when the weight of everyone’s happiness seemed to be on his fucking shoulders. How was he supposed to…

Nope. 

Thinking was bad. Out of the question, especially before the show.

Luckily, his best aerial dancer was having issues. He almost whistled on his way over there, but didn’t want his crew to think he was happy, to get complacent.

No one takes a happy clown seriously.

~~~🤡🤡🤡~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Everything was right there. Everything he’d ever wanted.

More than that.

Shanks had spent decades wishing that one of his loves would be his. He’d tried to find another, but there was no one like Buggy. There was no one like Mihawk. 

He’d built this moment up in his mind for years now. This would be his chance to be with Buggy. To offer him the life they should have had. Find him, take him away, and have that adventure they’d always dreamed about. Finally hold him, keep him, make him smile.

The Emperor of the Sea was pacing through the corridor, his mistakes playing on a loop in his mind while he tried to figure out what to do, what to say.

Shanks scoffed at himself for his confidence. All these years of dreaming, and worrying, and hoping, yet he’d just walked in here fully believing that Buggy would take his hand. That Buggy would leave everything behind. 

That Buggy wouldn’t have anything to leave behind.

Piece of shit.

He had to lean against a wall, staring down at his feet while even more nausea flooded through him. This place had shoved a mirror inside his mind, forcing him to look.

Red Haired Shanks didn’t fucking like what he saw.

I didn’t think anyone else would love Buggy.  

Sinking to the floor, Shanks wallowed in guilt. He was about to spill his shame across the fancy carpet, the burning in his throat too fucking much. 

Buggy. 

All those years spent telling him the truth about how wonderful, how beautiful, how talented he was, yet Shanks didn’t think anyone else would see it. Not like he could. He couldn’t decide what that said about him, but it was foul. 

Resting his head back against the wall, Shanks realized how fucking greedy he’d gotten. 

They fucking tortured him! Crocodile is a tyrant!

Somehow those truths were sounding more and more like excuses. Especially after Shanks saw what they had here. That sweet girl that he’d prodded until her pain came out, breaking her into pieces…

Buggy loved her. Jealousy had taken him over, but the more he saw, the more he wanted it all. He needed to take them both away. To have that sort of love for himself. To have Buggy, to see him smile like he does with her.

The greed only got worse the more he watched the men touching his clown, how they all seemed happy, and the pain of Mihawk got all wrapped into it. 

Shanks had woken this morning with greed instead air in his lungs. The sight of Crocodile last night with his three beautiful lovers. The sight of the four of them together like that was more than he’d ever imagined, and after last night with Hawk, the red haired pirate knew what he needed. 

All of them. I’m taking all of them.

Everything had been at his fingertips. He’d seen something so bright that he had to take it for himself. 

A butterfly, crushed to death by the child that wanted to look at its pretty wings.

I’m losing them all. So close. I ruined it. I hurt… I don’t deserve… 

He wasn’t used to this. The guilt he still felt with Buggy felt distant, the mistakes of youth, and he was just waiting for the day he could make up for it all. This new guilt was caustic, too fresh, and made him question the kind of man he thought he was. 

A hateful laugh left Shanks' throat while he stayed slumped on the floor, pathetic pity and self loathing drowning him deep.

I guess I’m the villain here.

~~~🔴🔴🔴~~~

~~~~~~

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

Why is she? What happened? I should have been listening to her. I should have–

“You said you’d help me forget all my worries.”

Mihawk stood just inside the conference room door, almost trembling at the sight of her. 

Beautiful. 

Wrong.

“Please, sir. I need you.”

These last few days had shaken the world’s greatest swordsman to his core. He’d always taken what he wanted. Didn’t care. He never hesitated. 

Yet, Y/N had trapped him. Mihawk’s lips parted, almost dizzy from the battle within him. Paralyzed.

Need. 

She needs help. Something’s not right. She needs me. She’s trying to use her body against me, to manipulate me. She needs me. 

“Mihawk,” she begged, and the hint of pain in her voice sent him to her. He touched her, felt her cold hands, kissed her temple, pressed her against his chest while panic set in. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, darling.”

Need her to be alright.

“I’m fine,” she lied, but he wouldn’t tell. “Just waiting for you. Do what you always do. Be mean. Hurt me. Make me need you. Make me forget.”

Guilt. 

He’d been so caught up in Shanks, that he hadn’t seen her fall this far. Guilt at the thought of pushing her, of not listening to what she wanted right now. Guilt for his aching need to punish her, take her.

Gods, her scent… Can’t. Can’t.

“Please, love, let me help– fuck.”

“Help me by hurting me,” she ordered, releasing the flesh from her mouth where she’d bitten his chest. He’d thrown his head back, moaning at how perfectly she’d controlled him. Moaning at the need to make her pay for it. 

Pulling himself out of that chaos was almost painful. 

“Y/N–”

“Pretend.”

She sliced up his back, brutal nails down his skin under his jacket. He lost it.

She needs me. 

“You’re fucking lucky that we need you pretty for the party, darling,” Mihawk growled, loving her desperate yelp when he grabbed her, cruel hands flipping her, shoving her face down onto the table. He held both of her wrists in one of his hands behind her back, using his free hand to lift her dress.

“So wet for me,” he taunted as he pulled himself free, teasing his cock over her pretty pussy, still hidden beneath those soaked panties. “This what my little rabbit needs?”

“F-fuck me– fuck!”

The delicious sound of her panties ripping as he tore them from her was nothing compared to the sweet, muffled cries she let out when he shoved the wet fabric into her mouth. Her eyes were fluttering for him, her body writhing, her hips trying desperately to move toward his, begging, fucking begging for him. 

“You haven’t been very polite today, rabbit,” Mihawk drawled, satisfaction running through him as he forced his cock into her. She was always so wet, so ready for him, but with no prep, and with her legs trapped how he had her bent her over the table, he couldn’t hold in a moan at how fucking tight she was. “So you’ll get just what you asked for. How’s this for mean– Ha, my little vixen. Coming so soon?”

He could barely hold on. The swordsman could still feel the sting where she’d scratched his back, deep enough to draw blood. The thought of his red on her fingertips made him forget, made him hold her down, made him fucking take her.

“Mine.”

Mihawk fisted her hair, yanking until her back arched painfully over the table. Seeing the drool from her stuffed mouth just made him fuck her harder, blind to everything but her perfect, pliant body. He hadn’t realized that he’d released her hands until she reached up behind her, clawing her nails into his wrist while he pulled at that pretty hair.

“My wicked angel,” he praised, a dangerous chuckle following the moan her lovely pain had pulled from him. He had to fight to keep from slamming her face back down on the table, from fucking her throat until she choked and cried, from slicing his own red lines across that gorgeous skin. 

Just enough presence of mind to remember that he shouldn’t wreck her too much, although he couldn’t remember why. 

“Fucking mine,” he growled, spellbound by her sweet, greedy cunt, and her weak, little fingers still trying to hurt him. Her body danced for his again, struggling against his rough grip while she spasmed, milking his cock like she was made for it. 

“Hear that, darling? You’re mine. My rabbit. My love. Fucking need you, fuuck…”

His last, dangerous words were snarled like threats as he thrust so fucking deep, making her cry while he spilled his hot pleasure inside her, stuffing her full until it dripped down her shaking thighs. 

Ragged breaths, and their frantic hearts were all they could hear as he released her soft hair from his cruel fingers. Still twitching, he was unable to resist the urge to watch his cock sink back into her a few times before leaving her body. Leaving a sticky, beautiful mess that he almost cleaned up with his tongue.

Until the world returned.

“Fuck, are you alright, rabbit?”

“Mhm,” she hummed lazily, tugging the ruined panties from her mouth. She kept humming, and sighing for him while he helped her move. He was extremely grateful for the box of tissues on that long conference table while he wiped up his extravagant mess.

Mihawk focused on her, focused on caring for her, focused and focused, and didn’t think about the things he’d said. That was easier than he expected once guilt crashed over him again.

Y/N. She’s hurting. She’s lost. And I just used her again. Used her like a toy. 

I’m still a fucking monster. 

“Thank you,” she purred, resting her head in the crook of his neck while he carried her to the suite. Carried her to where he’d been looking forward to getting her ready. Looking forward to dressing up his pretty doll. 

All the relief that last night with Shanks had brought him seemed stale. Too little, too late. No matter how much forgiveness he was granted, nothing could take away everything he’d done. Nothing could fix what he’d done to her, and now his greed was twisting him further. 

What was the point of deciding not to be a monster, if he would just give in to this compulsion, this sick need? A need that he knew he was going to succumb to. Had to give in to.

Mihawk hoped he wouldn't have to be a monster for this.

I need her. No matter what happens.

I need her by my side.

~~~🗡️🗡️🗡️~~~

~~~~~~

You felt so good.

Relaxed.

Buggy would be safe and happy, and they would keep pretending until the end. You wanted to hope that you’d have more time than just tonight, that they hadn’t made a deal so soon, but you couldn’t afford to hope. 

So you accepted it. Whatever they did, whatever happened, you’d made your deal with yourself. Buggy safe. They pretend. You enjoy every last moment with these beautiful villains before they send you back…

Send you back to choose your fate. Pros and cons.

If he even gives me a choice now.

Mihawk sat you down on the edge of the bed. He kissed your cheek, and called you pretty things, and you followed your own orders while he dolled you up. 

Time to pretend.

~~~~~~

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you!!

a/n: Oh gobs, how y'all doing? I know things seemed like they could be hunky dory at the end of the last chapter, but I hope you'll forgive me for exploring the messy minds of our big bad pirates. I just couldn't let them off scot free, alright? They needed to sit down, and think about what they've done 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @caniseethefourthsword | @hey-august | @chaoticqueen33 | @destinationmars | @novakitten0901 | @h0n3y-l3m0n05 | @dorky-birdie | @szired | @pinejayy | @laws-wife-things | @jadeddangel | @gingernut1314 | @urlocaltwink | @blue-rae18 | @bontensbabygirl | @bbnbhm | @0-sparkling-lace-0 | @ihearthazuki | @mikisspeak | @djloveyou3000

Part 23

Operation Olive Branch has compiled a working spreadsheet of ways to help families fleeing from the genocide in Palestine. If you enjoyed this fic, and are able, please click the link to find a list of GoFundMe's, as well as other ways to help.

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[ao3sbatfamily]

https://www.tumblr.com/fandom-drake/750473081336823808/dinah-who-somehow-got-roped-into-being-the-batfam?source=share

is there a fic like this? where jason finds out bruce and dick almost killed the joker?

This one is the most direct fic that fits the prompt.

'Worth Caring For' by Captain_Kinky

Author: @one-eyed-captain-kinky

“No– unhand me!” Damian, who normally relishes in the touch of the eldest twists out of his hold. “He needs to know!”

“Dami.” The nickname is no longer a resigned utterance, but a sharp warning as Dick stands and begins to, once again, pull the boy away.

“Need to know what ?” Jason forces himself to sit up with a slight wince, his back propped against the too-flat pillows. “Unless Dickwad here managed to kill the Joker, I don’t wanna hear it.” His sarcastic laugh is mixed with an irritated huff and scoff, all in one. 

Dick’s movements stutter, and he internally curses himself for it. Jason, while not renowned for his detective skills, is still part of the family– incredibly smart and intimate in his knowledge of Dick’s behaviors and tells. That, and the satisfied smile on Damian’s face, give it away.

This is my favorite scene that fits the prompt. But it's one blip in a much bigger AU with a complex plot.

'1-800-GOTHAM' by goldfishinabag

“He did. He does, still. And it’s not like Batman didn’t try to kill Joker,” Tim says with another sip of his tea, trying to see if he can lessen the pressure and intensity of the current mood. And ignoring the fact that Red Hood is only wearing a domino right now. 

(He’s really ignoring that. How did his sleep-addled brain allow it?)

This gets Red Hood to completely freeze, body stiffening. He stares at Tim.

“What.”

“You know, since Joker was immediately declared a diplomatic ambassador right after Robin was killed, and all that?” Tim says with a small hand wave. “He got immunity. That makes it much harder for Batman to kill him with all the government repercussions it would cause. International issues are a nuisance, I’ll tell you.”

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! Sorry, don't really know how to request fic recs and I don't know if y'all have responded to any specific requests like this before (probably have and I just can't find it) but do y'all have any recs for fics that center around (a) flashback(s) or just historical moment(s) with Az and Crow? Specifically Rome, 1940's, or 1650's with piracy (gotta love OFMD brainrot)? I would prefer fluff but won't say no to some angst as well, just maybe not completely smut since I tend to skim that. That's all then, have a great day!

You'll want to check our #through the ages tag. Here are some Rome, 1941, and pirate fics to add...

the stars are aglow / and tonight how their light sets me dreaming by pearl_in_the_nebula (G)

Post-canon 1941 scene. Aziraphale has some modern music to show Crowley.

like the sun, softly I take you into my arms by Milky_Etoile (G)

It was nearing the end of their celebratory lunch at the Ritz when Aziraphale realizes Crowley's silence. It becomes clear to him that it's due to exhaustion over the events of the averted Apocalypse. He tries to suggest resting, but Crowley's unwilling after their escaped executions. It would take more time and effort to get Crowley to relax, but those were things Aziraphale was more than willing to give for his dearest demon. or In which Aziraphale coaxes Crowley into resting with wine, a shared couch, and a foot massage. Somehow, Aziraphale ends up even more smitten.

The Kiss That Was No Oyster’s Fault by SeedsOfWinter (T)

All the taverns in all the cities in all of Creation, and the demon slithered into Aziraphale’s. There was no mistaking Crowley. All mourning black wrapped and hellfire haired, slouching towards inebriation, there could be no other. There never would be. (Or, What if Aziraphale and Crowley throughout the ages, but a first kiss of some kind always happens? In Rome, Aziraphale and Crowley have time on their hands and oysters on their plates...)

Demons of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Golden Angel by CaspianTheGeek (T)

All Crowley wanted was a carefree jaunt at sea with his pirate beloved, but the powers of Heaven and Hell have other plans... starting by cursing his ship! When Duke Hastur steals the Golden Angel and declares himself captain, Crowley's plans to reverse the curse are put in peril. He needs to get the vessel back so he can go home to Aziraphale, but he can't take on the crew of the damned by himself. With the Caribbean seas filled with enemies, angelic and demonic alike, he'll need to sail carefully to avoid capture, or worse: the truth coming out. Luckily, this is also the story of two unlikely human allies, descendants of Agnes Nutter and of the witchfinder general she exploded. Cue pirate music!

A Pastel Sky Above the Wine-Dark Sea by maniacalmole (G)

It's 1725, the Golden Age of Piracy is nearing its end, and an angel and a demon have both been sent on a mission across the seas. Aziraphale has never been one for boats. Crowley, however, is thrilled.

My Funny Valentine by theshoparoundthecorner (G)

“You’re kind,” Crowley said with another small laugh. Aziraphale looked over at him. His gaze softened. “Y’know, people like that sort of thing. Kind people.” Aziraphale nodded. Crowley felt something strange stirring in his stomach, and he wondered if perhaps he’d had a little too much to drink. He was beginning to get the urge to do something stupid. To reach forward and take the angel’s hand. To trace the lines of his smile, and the creases of his eyes, and memorize what he looked like in case it was a long while before they saw each other again. Whoa now, said the only logical part of his brain he had left, maybe it’s time to sober up. Five times Crowley gave Aziraphale a gift on Valentine's Day, and one time it was the other way around.

- Mod D

[bbbuckaroo]

you are rights bobs are getting louder because they can feel the interest in their ship dwindling. But you know what?? They brought this on themselves.

I loved buddie and when Tommy came along I was one of the people who thought “yeah he’s cute. I do hope they date for a while” but I held onto the buddie endgame. But I try to “curate my space” like they always say whenever someone complains about how toxic the fandom has become and curating for me means try to avoid negativity. And I used to follow only buddie shippers but I told myself “I’m only gonna unfollow the one who badmouths bucktommy because I don’t wanna see that kind of energy”. And I ended up unfollowing 90% of them. So the reason I became uninterested in buddie is because I don’t see many posts about them and the reason I don’t see many posts about them is because most buddie shippers can’t love their ship without hating on bucktommy or Tommy or even Lou (fucking psychos). Sorry for the rant. I can’t believe how much those people behavior made me fall out of love with a couple i’ve been cheering on for 6 years.

sincerely, a former buddie shipper

Welcome to BuckTommy Nation, we’re all quite lovely and happy to have new residents! We spend our days basking in the sunshine these two boys bring ☀️ And I promise, we’re not anti-Buddie, we’re anti-bullshit. First of all I want to sincerely apologize that you weren’t able to enjoy your ship. In no finer terms, that sucks. Everyone should be able to ship any couple they’d like and enjoy doing it.

I honestly started with 9-1-1 LS, fell in love with Tarlos and heard there was another non-canon couple on 9-1-1 who could develop into that. Within the first few episodes of S2 I loved Buck and Eddie but not for the reasons many did or I expected. I loved how positive and healthy their friendship was as two “manly” men. There was no silly caveman antics or refusal to share feelings. From the beginning they could be two male friends without toxic masculinity and that was (and is) so needed.

I too scrolled through the Buddie posts that showed up on my dash following Buck (I’m a Buck baby) and thought hey, let the shippers have their fun. I’m not going to rag on them and that was back when it was just that, FUN! And as time went on it has become necessary to block all Buddie content because it’s so hard to weed out the positive posts, they’re drowned out by the radicalism and that is so sad. It should have never become that way.

Lou was a total surprise for me and regardless of if he and Buck stayed together, as a character with such growth and stability I adored him and then promptly fell in love with Lou. So the fact that both he and his character were literally attacked from that first kiss was appalling. You’re right, it injected so much negativity into the entire show by one small group and here we are trying to fix it. It’s practically years worth of nastiness. And the part that just blows my mind is that EDDIE was the driving factor in Buck and Tommy getting together and he and Buck’s conversation about coming out was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful and so many people could relate and felt so much hope seeing both someone come out at an “older” age and have his best friend wholeheartedly support him. I legit cried during that scene.

So even as a non-Buddie shipper who never had any issue with the ship EVER, I can understand and see how unfair it is for you and honestly, I am sorry. I wish there were some way for Buddie shippers to enjoy their ship or even be separated from the pack. Because Buddie has become a nasty word with such a negative connotation and you don’t/didn’t deserve that.

I hope y’all know that BuckTommy Nation IS a safe space for Buddie shippers who respect our ship as much as we do theirs because I believe we all want Buck, Eddie, and now Tommy happy and in healthy relationships, whomever they may be with. So please don’t feel like you can’t celebrate both and I promise that myself and other members will try our hardest to not immediately associate Buddie with the BoB’s.

Please feel free to rant as much as you need to, you have a reason too! And clearly I’m a huge advocate for positivity and ignoring the BoB’s so when they are talked about or responded to I immediately shut it down and block. Your rant isn’t negative towards Buck or Tommy or any of them and in no way is giving the BoB’s the attention they’re preying off of. Instead you’re giving an honest and raw testimony of one of the worst things that’s happened because of this insanity. And that’s fans being unable to enjoy themselves and do so with like-minded people. These shows are made to be enjoyed and now people feel like they can’t and you know who that hurts? The people who make and star in the show would we wouldn’t have any of this without!

So thank you so much for sharing your experience and giving us insight into how true Buddie fans are feeling. We need to hear that so we can continue to spread positivity regardless of which characters/actors it is. Because if nasty people are going to make their own fellow-shippers feel like they can’t, we can at least make it a positive place again for everyone. Buck and Tommy have brought so much of that to the show and shown people what a healthy relationship looks like when after years of failed and toxic relationships. Many people desperately need to see that who are in those, regardless of who makes up the couple.

Thank you for sharing all of this and sorry my response turned into a book! We’re so happy you’re here enjoying the ship and the positivity it brings, that’s all we want ❤️

[captainhunnicutt]

please share

I genuinely didn't expect anyone to ask, and because it's you I will. I won't give all of my thoughts, because quite frankly - no one wants to read that. I'll just elaborate on the one that's been bouncing around in my skull recently.

For reference, the ask stems from this post.

I think one of the most devastating parts of this scene (and there's a lot of devastation in this scene alone), is that BJ chooses to escape to the OR. Think about that for a second, please. Just... okay.

Throughout the entire series, whenever there is an announcement of wounded in the compound, report to OR etc. - if BJ is in the scene, there is always some sarcastic remark or quip about it. He isn't afraid to display his absolute disdain for what he is about to do. I can't imagine the OR is BJ's favorite place in the entirety of the camp - and so for him to actively choose going to the OR instead of listening to Hawkeye a minute longer... is not only devastating, it's really telling about where his thoughts are and what he's internally struggling with.

This isn't the first time BJ has had to face, head on, the idea that he may never see Hawkeye again. "Comrades in Arms," "Where There's a Will There's a War," for example. He tore himself up worrying about Hawkeye. He chased Potter around like a rabid dog wanting answers. He snapped at everyone until seeing Hawkeye's sutures for himself. There were fleeting and very taxing moments where he thought Hawkeye was gone, but he never was.

This scene is different. This is BJ actually starting to realize that he may never see Hawkeye again. That there may actually be validity to what Hawkeye is saying, and that's an entirely different beast than wondering (and everyone around you is trying to convince you to not assume the worst), if your best friend is dead or alive. In some ways, it's almost worst. He knows that the second Hawkeye and him separate, Hawk isn't dead. He will be alive, on another coast, and living life as best as he can. There's no closure. It just is.

And I think in BJ's mind, saying "goodbye" out loud is a period on an entire story that he doesn't want to end. A period means death. A period means it's over.

So when Hawkeye throws out the infamous "what would you do if I was dying," bit - I think that's when the lack of control over the situation finally hits him. He can't stop what's going to happen. Everyone is going to go home, and it's what they have all always wanted. It's not that he wants to stay in Korea, he doesn't. But there's no way to control the situation so they go home and him and Hawkeye can still be in one another's presence. There's no negotiating. There's no demonstration of skills to convince someone or something otherwise. He has zero control.

So instead of listening to Hawkeye another minute, or even sitting there and tuning him out - BJ chooses to go to the OR. The one place he never wanted to be in the first place. He never wanted to get drafted. He never wanted to get sent to Korea. He never wanted to be sent to a MASH unit. He never wanted to operate on kids pumped up with shrapnel. But in the OR... he has some control. He can use his skills and change outcomes. He can fix the broken. He can calm the scared. He can control the situation (or at least pretend to), and that's ultimately what BJ needs at the end of his time in Korea. Some sort of control of his own life. He's been a "prisoner of war," for too long.

To actively go to a place he never wanted to be, instead of listening to Hawkeye, to me, means he isn't ready to admit how terrifying it is to think that Hawkeye might actually be right. He's not ready to admit that level of defeat. So he runs to the only place in the entire g'damn war where he has some say over things.

The OR.

[fourteentrout]

ACOTAR Rant

When I first read acowar, I was really fascinated by Feyre's choice to destroy spring from the inside. I was kind of like okay facts you go girl, I've never seen a fmc motivated purely by revenge before, and it was really interesting to read, and I kind of liked how drama it was. But as I've read the series and immersed myself more in the fandom, rereading some of the scenes genuinely makes my blood boil.

The fact that feyre tells Lucien she wasn't ready to be touched "like that" when he asks her if she and Tamlin have had sex yet is like low-key an implication that she's been sexually abused in the night court??? Which I never picked up on in my first read like I got that she was going for this whole pretend-freed-captive vibe to get back into Tamlin's court, but it never really stuck out to me that she, whose mate spent 49 years at the sexual beck and call of someone he didn't want to be with, who likely forced herself upon him time and time again, was pretending to be a victim of sexual abuse.

And THEN she encounters LUCIEN being sexually harassed (by someone hed been essentially magically bound to fucking in the Great Rite mind you) and she's content to just...not apologize for literally feigning past rape??

And don't even get me started on the scene where she basically goads Tamlin into another magical outburst and intentionally makes sure she gets hurt by it when she had (to her knowledge) the ability to protect herself (from something that she directly and intentionally caused!!)

Like yes shes the one who got hurt but is it really abuse on his part if she knowingly pushed his buttons so that he would lose control? It's his job to have control over himself in the first place, yes, but if she's taking calculated steps to get him in a place where she knew his magic would act up, are his actions entirely abusive?

Not to mention that afterwards he was literally like praying to the mother and confessing to ianthe in hopes that some divine stroke of forgiveness would be granted while feyre was like mind sexting Rhys (and also Rhys was like rah I could rip out his throat for laying a hand on you and she was like well he didn't even touch me, his MAGIC touched me, and Rhys is like haha glad u still find humor in this babe, like my brother in Christ she KNOWINGLY CAUSED TAMLIN'S REACTION?? She got the result she wanted??? Why do you want Tamlin dead for something that is benefitting Feyre's revenge plan?)

Ugh point being there are so many things that upon reread I'm like oh this is actually like majorly wack. And it does make sense though for feyre to be acting this way because she's!! A 20 year old girl!! Who has just endured something majorly traumatic!! And was never raised in an environment that taught true maturity anyways!!! She has been in survival mode her entire life, so when someone comes along and says hey, Tamlin actually was shitty the whole time and here's why (while literally changing some of the original narrative), it's understandable that she would be like huh. Yeah. I gotta do something about that. And it's definitely understandable that her methods would be absolutely set on destroying people's lives, because she felt that in that period of time HER life was destroyed, and she was so blinded by her need to share that pain that she kind of forgot that people were people.

[caterpills]

(Six) (Seven) Several Sentences Sunday!

Hi! Thanks so much for the tags this go around from @thesleepyskipper and @alasse9! I super appreciate it! (I'm also going to thank @kelliealtogether for tagging me on WIP Weds that I totally saw too late!) ❤️

Deep in the recesses of planning docs for This Is More of a Comment Than a Question, I wrote this bit early on. Before I knew where it would go or if I could even connect it to any other parts of this fic. Much to my surprise, we're finally at that point where I can share a part of this whole scene because it's coming in the next chapter (finally!)

Henry takes a long pause and swallows hard. His eyes go unexpectedly distant. Alex has seen this before, but he never understood why or bothered to question it. He never cared enough to. But he starts to notice the signs now—when Henry has a memory too hard or too painful rising to the surface, when he can't linger in it, when he needs to push it back down, down, down. Alex's heart thumps, sharp and sympathetic, at the image of Henry on stage, alone with his thoughts. But Alex watches him return to the present, force a smile, and finish answering. Ever the professional author.

I know it's kind of late today, and I am shy! So please use my open tag if you want to play along, and make sure to tag me so I can see what you're up to!!

[ultimateshixiongfuckertournament]

Semifinal 1: Fei Du vs Jiang Cheng

Semifinal 1 is between Fei Du (shixiong: Luo Wenzhou) from Mo Du vs Jiang Cheng (shixiong: Wei Wuxian) from Mo Dao Zu Shi

Propaganda under the cut

Fei Du:

Fei Du: evidence? The entirety of Mo Du. His shixiong is is Luo Wenzhou, a dude with an eight-pack and parents who love him and love fei du as well, and a dude whom fei du is willing to not die/consider the future with, and consider himself not a monster to be with. Fei Du says shixiong to Luo Wenzhou so flirtatiously that they both stop and stare. Luo Wenzhou gets him birthday cake, a video game when he was small and a promise. (Also, they are cat parents)

Jiang Cheng:

Clinged to WWX constantly for 7+ years, wanted to have WWX as his right hand man forever after becoming sect leader, cried after WWX left, cried when he discovered what WWX sacrificed for him, was TORN APART when it got explained to him that if they were more outwardly close knit, WWX might not have died

PROPAGANDA!! to start, i'm still very bitter about how fairy lost the sentient animal poll and i want to win this badly. very very badly. current stats are 50.6 in favour of jc but that's too less of a gap for me. jc should be winning this by a landslide, y'all hear me? anyways. starting with a class act, like the clown i am->

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64.media.tumblr.com

a few links ( because i'm chengxian trash, as always and i'd love if poll-guy could copy paste them on the og post): one, two, three, four (gif), five, six, seven (gif), eight (thoughts on different wavelengths), the absolute circles of them saving each other, the fucking golden core reveal scene. golden scene reveal part 2, jiang cheng will always forgive wei wuxian

to start with. jiang cheng is literally the picture of "i knew from the moment i met you that i'd spend a lifetime forgiving you".

the earliest dynamic of jiang cheng and wei wuxian is jiang cheng giving away his dogs (the only gift his father has ever given him, btw) because wei wuxian is scared of the dogs. tis only the start of it.

his father very obviously prefers his shixiong over him, his mother berates him for not being as good as wei wuxian and tells him his inheritance is in danger, and his sister (in my opinion) has more care for him (visibly. maybe jiang yanli doesn't show it because jc is an emotionally complicated purple grape, maybe because jc doesn't need it, or wei wuxian is traumatised but that's my opinion). but still. still. Jiang Cheng loves Wei Wuxian. so much. jealousy is like. the most tame response i can think of. and jiang cheng is proud of wei wuxian, okay? he'd believe his big brother if he'd said anything. want proof? well, here you go-> link

to paraphrase the link:

Jiang Cheng had just lost his family, his home, and his very golden core, and his older brother - his brilliant older brother who could fix anything, who could sneak wine into Cloud Recesses and defeat an ancient turtle nearly-god and make Jiang Cheng share a smile when Jiang Cheng’s mother was disappointed and furious at both of them - His big brother smiled and said, “I can fix this.”And Jiang Cheng believed him then, and believed him three months later when Wei Wuxian crawled out of the Burial Mounds (just the second miracle in three months), and believed him every day of the next seventeen(?) years until the pieces were shoved into place for him to see.

also. the circle these two go in protecting each other. (gif set by @sandushengshou), the 'if one of us is to die, then, i beg, let it be me' that they both do for one another in a seemingly neverending loop of sacrifice. via this post a la my lovely @backtoyunmeng

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64.media.tumblr.com

jiang cheng is a cannonically ruined woman archetype, justified via the countless posts you'll get in the top posts of jiang cheng tag. he keeps chenqing, wwx's flute in perfect condition even when he hates wei wuxian, even when wwx, if only indirectly, has a part in jiang yanli's murder and oof okay someone pointed out to him that he's known to have killed wei wuxian and he almost cries. he absolutely believes, with his whole heart, that wei wuxian lives even when the world is sure he doesnt. and it always read to me like, i'd know if he was dead. he's a part of my soul, so i'd know if he was dead. he can't be dead.

this is getting too long, so, to sum up, some absolute poetry by @jiangchengsjawline

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64.media.tumblr.com

#JC On The Other Hand Has His Entire Life Shaped By His Shixiong And Ended Up Cast As The Ruined Woman By The End

#jiang cheng though. wasn't able to fuck his shixiong but his shixiong definitely fucked with him

#hello?? the answer is Jiang cheng pls#he's the shixiongfucker or all shixiong fucker you wish you could be as pathetically in love with your shixiong as he is#chengxian

#i do not go here (chengxian) but the propaganda is incredibly correct they are insane abt each other#also sorry jiang cheng ik you're suffering but they are so funny to me#neway VOTE JIANG CHENG FOR CLEAR SKIN

#look I rarely go here#(here being chengxian)#but by GOD their lvoe compels me#they’re tragic and doomed and they love each other without knowing how to say it in words the other would understand#or in words at all because communication??? we don’t know her???

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64.media.tumblr.com

he didn't even think about sacrificing himself, and consequently his entire bloodline, his sect, pretty much everything that depends on him for his shixiong??????????

is this not convincing->

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64.media.tumblr.com

#had to vote jc though i have more feelings about chengxian#i think jc should have a huge gege kink

#like. jiang cheng should win the entire tournament hands down period

[amber-laughs]

Thank you so much for your answer! I'd love to hear your thoughts on their relationship before the series begins. We know that the scene they shared in agot was not reflective of their actual dynamic even if most people loooove to forget that part. How did they interact? Did they ever? How was their relationship especially when Jon was a toddler or around 7-8? Thank you for your time!

oh fun question! well let's start from the beginning, we know that Catelyn was upset to find Jon in Winterfell before her

When the wars were over at last, and Catelyn rode to Winterfell, Jon and his wet nurse had already taken up residence. That cut deep. A Game of Throne- Catelyn II

but keep in mind Catelyn didn't know Ned yet. they'd obviously met and married but she doesn't really know anything about his temperament yet and even with that she's just arrived in a new place that will be her home forever, there's no way out, so the idea of her immediately showing her displeasure with Jon or Ned feels unlikely to me because in Family, Duty, Honor fashion she would first and foremost try to make her new family work to fulfill her father's alliance and be forced to put her wounded honor to the side. we know she did eventually work up the courage to ask Ned about Ashara Dayne

The Lady Ashara Dayne, tall and fair, with haunting violet eyes. It had taken her a fortnight to marshal her courage, but finally, in bed one night, Catelyn had asked her husband the truth of it, asked him to his face. That was the only time in all their years that Ned had ever frightened her. "Never ask me about Jon," he said, cold as ice. A Game of Thrones- Catelyn II

Ned scared her so bad she never asked again and neither did the servants. Now the fandom has a pretty simplistic, whitewashed view of Ned that isn't supported in canon but I would still call this out of character for him and Catelyn does too but remember, she barely knew him at this point, so it makes sense why she completely dropped the topic of not just Ashara but probably Jon as whole for a few years. but of course we know it does come up again.

Now I personally think the real trouble would start to come in as Jon was weened and was still in Winterfell. If he no longer needed a wet-nurse there's no reason not to foster him off in classic bastard fashion and Catelyn clearly thinks so too

Whoever Jon's mother had been, Ned must have loved her fiercely, for nothing Catelyn said would persuade him to send the boy away. It was the one thing she could never forgive him. A Game of Thrones- Catelyn II

Catelyn, of her own admission, was often trying to get Ned to kick Jon out of Winterfell. now this is where I need to remind people that I LOVE Catelyn Tully Stark. I'm on her team, I'm on her side, I'd buy her Mother's Day gifts if I could. most people in this fandom are actually pretty chill about the Catelyn Jon dynamic but there are two sides that think catelyn was an evil abusive wicked witch of the west specifically out to get an infant because she just feels like being evil and another side that thinks she never did anything to him and he's a spoiled brat who should be grateful she didn't make him sleep outside and eat only dog food. both are extremely annoying.

the truth is Catelyn was cruel to Jon and yes by George RR Martin's own words she never laid hands on him and she wasn't directly berating him throughout the years because like I said Catelyn isn't evil and she doesn't enjoy cruelty but when a child says he feels guilty eating in front of you there's a problem.

Jon wondered how Lady Catelyn's sister would feel about feeding Ned Stark's bastard. As a boy, he often felt as if the lady grudged him every bite. A Dance With Dragons- Jon IV

now it's possible Jon is projecting his own insecurities on to Catelyn here except:

Catelyn had nothing against this girl, but suddenly she could not help but think of Ned's bastard on the Wall, and the thought made her angry and guilty, both at once. She struggled to find words for a reply. A Game of Thrones- Catelyn VI

Catelyn does feel guilty for the way she's treated Jon. yes making Jon feel uncomfortable in Winterfell served a purpose, making sure he knows its not his. he has no right to it. Robb does. Robb will inherit. If not Robb then Bran, if not Bran then Rickon and so on and so forth. but none the less it was fucking mean. but here's the thing, Catelyn can't change society, she's navigating the rules she's given and Ned isn't, I imagine that would send her up a wall sometimes. because as she said Ned can have all the bastards he wants and she wouldn't care but Jon has no business being there and no business being treated like a true born next to her actual true born sons

"This is Valyrian steel, my lord," he said wonderingly. His father had let him handle Ice often enough; he knew the look, the feel. A Game of Thrones- Jon VIII

why the hell is Jon being allowed to handle the Stark ancestral sword? this is so widely out of the norm for Westeros it almost feels illegal. I can completely understand why Catelyn started trying to drill into Robb's head that Jon was different from him

That morning he called it first. "I'm Lord of Winterfell!" he cried, as he had a hundred times before. Only this time, this time, Robb had answered, "You can't be Lord of Winterfell, you're bastard-born. My lady mother says you can't ever be the Lord of Winterfell." A Storm of Swords- Jon XII

and it's also known throughout the Winterfell that there are hostilities between Jon and Catelyn. when Robb see's Jon is upset he immediately wonders if his mother is the reason

His voice was flat and tired. The visit had taken all the strength from him. Robb knew something was wrong. "My mother …" "She was … very kind," Jon told him. A Game of Thrones- Jon II

Jon also famously has the line where he admits Catelyn has never so much as called him by his name before so on Catelyn's side the relationship is somewhere on a spectrum from non existent to hostile. on Jon's side? well we know that Jon very consciously craved a mother

He knew nothing of his mother; Eddard Stark would not talk of her. Yet he dreamed of her at times, so often that he could almost see her face. A Game of Thrones- Jon III

often felt like he had to prove himself to his father

Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous. Once Jon had meant to prove them wrong, to show his lord father that he could be as good and true a son as Robb. I made a botch of that.  A Storm of Swords- Jon X

and I want to be clear, I know it wasn't Catelyn's job to make Jon feel welcome in his home, Ned really dropped the ball. It's Ned's fault that Jon just assumed he'd be destitute with no prospects by the time he turned 16 and it shows in the way Jon craves father figures in his life after he leaves Winterfell. Jeor Mormont, Benjen Stark, Mance Rayder, Maester Aemon, Stannis Baratheon I mean the list goes on. The thing is though there are no older women in Jon's life. Not at the Wall and not really in Winterfell either. He and Robb don't seem to take lessons from Septa Mordane and while Old Nan certainly taught him some important stories she doesn't seem to have set a maternal presence in his life.

I'm not saying Catelyn was or should have been Jon's mother because she wasn't and it surely wasn't her job but I do think she subconsciously fills that second parental placeholder in his head next to Ned because he clearly craves one but has no other woman to fill it.

Lord of Winterfell. I could be the Lord of Winterfell. My father's heir. It was not Lord Eddard's face he saw floating before him, though; it was Lady Catelyn's. A Storm of Swords- Jon XII

while this isn't Jon's deciding factor the idea of upsetting her or once again being rejected by her really bothers him, so much so that he can't even go on training with his friends, he has to leave and take a walk all alone. She's also one of the deciding factors when he's deciding whether to take his lifelong vows for the Night's Watch.

By the time the moon was full again, he would be back in Winterfell with his brothers. Your half brothers, a voice inside reminded him. And Lady Stark, who will not welcome you. A Game of Thrones- Jon V

but let's be clear Jon isn't just sitting around waiting for her to hug him. he doesn't like her either.

"Lady Stark is not my mother," Jon reminded him sharply. Tyrion Lannister had been a friend to him. If Lord Eddard was killed, she would be as much to blame as the queen. A Game of Thrones- Jon VII

he blames her for Ned's death just as much as he blames Cersei which is unfair and a bit delusional but childhood resentment will do that to a 15 year old.

So what was Jon and Catelyn's relationship like? Bad. Catelyn and Jon never had a chance. they were failed by the system. women and bastards seem to have a lot in common in Westeros in the sense that their agency is greatly limited. their safety rests on their graces of whatever man has placed their claim on them and this woman and this bastard were vying for the graces of the same man and felt one couldn't have it if the other one did too. which is a shame in and of itself because I think they're both better at this game than Ned was.

***Less about their pre-series relationship but Jon and Catelyn have so much in common thematically and politically speaking. I did a parallel of them if you'd like to check it out

[vestaclinicpod]

Audio Drama Sunday - 26th May ✨

None of the audio dramas I’ve been listening to have pulled punches this week. My head’s a mess! 

👻 @tellnotalespod (S2E10.5) I was nearly crying within the first 30 seconds of Stephen’s message. God, how beautiful!! And what a heart-wrenching reply. It makes me so happy that they both have a place they feel like they belong but I don’t know where they’re going to decide to settle when they are FINALLY reunited. I have not forgotten Leo’s most recent bit of research though …. Them sharing a space might make them cat 2 or lower ☹️ what if they're reunited only to find they can no longer interact?! What if there were three super driven, smart and talented people working on this problem together? . . . and what if two of them kissed?? 

🌲 @hellofromthehallowoods (153) How is Valerie finally making a smart motherly decision (clearly spending time with Dr McGowan is good for her) and the smart decision is Lady fucking Ethel fucking Mallory??? I am BEYOND excited to find out what she’s been up to. I also love these Buck Silver scenes so much, I could listen to a whole show just about them, but the beauty of the Hallowoods is getting all that and more! 

Also, what the fuck, Voltaire? I think this has to count as one of the scariest scenes so far… right? I feel like I need to relisten to work out if Voltaire could be the Instr2mentalist from the timing of the killings. Vincent and Voltaire’s relationship has got me wanting to read In The Dreamhouse again.

🤴InCo by @itmeblog (S3E38-39) eek secret ambassador ships!! I wish Nova hadn’t disappeared so she could hear about this!! 

🖥️ The Magnus Protocol (17) hmmm, Celia you are a duplicitous one… I don’t know what’s going on with you but it makes me like you even more. 

🍎 @notquitedeadpod (XXXIX) OH NO. OH what a NASTY decision to have to make!!!!!!! POOR ALFIE. I think he made the right choice but STILL. GOD. Who just . . . has a vampire bear trap ready to go?? 

🧋 I finished part one of @hinaypod season one and what a treat! I love arcs where characters come into their power and Ashvin’s story is no different!! As much as I like him and Murphy together, Donner clearly tying himself in knots about it (and how much he cares for Mari also) is just - ugh. Put it in an IV. I’m really excited to see how the story progresses! 

I'm a little excited and a little scared for the TNT episode this week because it features yours truly as a little ghostie!! 👻 I'm trying to be cool about it but I also missed Travelling Light so so much this week so looking forward to that, whenever it might arrive! 🚀 

[theimpalatales]

Charlie Cox in Legacy || Charlie Cox's filmography

[lord-squiggletits]

One of my favorite parts of phase 2 (and indeed one of the few moments I resonated with IDW Prowl) was when the neutrals were coming back to Cybertron and Prowl said that he refused to let Autobots be pushed aside and overruled after they were the ones who fought for freedom for 4 million years (the exact wording escapes me atm).

And I mean, that resentment still holds true even once the colonists come on bc like. As much as it's true that Cybertron's culture is fucked up, and as funny as it can be to paint Cybertronians as a bunch of weirdos who consider trying to kill someone as a common greeting not important enough to hold a grudge over.... The colonists POV kind of pissed me off a lot of times, as did the narrative tone/implications that Cybertronians are forever warlike and doomed to die by their own hands bc it just strikes me as an extremely judgemental and unsympathetic way to deal with a huge group of people with massive war PTSD and political/social tensions that were rampant even before the war?

Like, imagine living in a society rife with bigotry and discrimination where you get locked into certain occupations and social strata based on how you were born. The political tension is so bad there's a string of assassinations of politicians and leaders. The whole planet erupts into an outright war that leads (even unintentionally) to famine and chemical/biological warfare that destroys your planet. Both sides of the war are so entrenched in their pre-war sides and resentment for each other that this war lasts 4 million years and you don't even have a home planet any more. Then your home planet gets restored and a bunch of sheltered fucks come home and go "ewww why are you so violent?? You're a bunch of freaks just go live in the wilderness so that our home can belong to The Pure People Who Weren't Stupid And Evil Enough To Be Trapped In War" and then a bunch of colonists from places that know nothing about your history go "lol you people are so weird?? 🤣🤣 I don't get why y'all are fighting can't you just like, stop??? Oh okay you people are just fucked up and evil and stupid then" ((their planets are based on colonialism where their Primes wiped out the native populations btw whereas the Autobots and OP in particular fought to save organics. But that never gets brought up as a point in their favor)) as if the damage of a lifetime of war and a society that was broken even before the war can just magically go away now that the war is over.

Prowl fucking sucks but he was basically the only person that pointed out the injustice of that.

And then from then on out most of the characters from other colonies like Caminus and wherever else are going "i fucking hate you and your conflicts" w/ people like literal-nobody Slide and various Camiens getting to just sit there lecturing Optimus about how Cybertronians are too violent for their own good and how their conflicts are stupid, with only brief sympathetic moments where the Cybertronians get to be recognized as their own ppl who deserve sympathy before going right back to being lambasted.

Like I literally struggled to enjoy the story at multiple points because there was only so much I could take of the characters I knew and loved being raked over coals constantly while barely getting to defend themselves or be defended by the narrative so like. It was just fucking depressing and a little infuriating to read exRID/OP

[bericas]

isaac & scott / mason & theo | sometimes all i think about is you

[cream-and-tea]

planning ghoststory book two and asking myself “does the intensity of pallas and calliopes hatred for each other come out of nowhere???” as if there isn’t a whole scene in lay me down where calliope tries to kill pallas by dropping a potted plant on their head looney-tunes style