#personalized keepsake box

[starmocha]

I know it's Sylus' birthday today on this side of the world, but

MY NEW PHONE ARRIVED EARLY (it was supposed to have been yesterday but the ups delivery person decided no one was home..... in spite of two huge cars in the driveway 😒)

omg but i'm no longer salty, because my new phone arrived on Sylus' birthday, so i'm calling that a win <33333 (no, i'm still the loser 🫠 MY NOTESSSS. Tempted to pry the back of my old phone apart and try to start it long enough to retrieve those notes lmao /srs)

The phone is the latest model....so it supports LADS and.....I downloaded the game...out of curiosity, of course.... 🫠 I also re-downloaded MLQC, but for some reason, it's not letting me sign in with my google play account 😭😔

But tell me why I opened the game for the first time on a phone and the first thing birthday boy here says to me is that he believes I should be on my period today 💀✋️ SYLUSSSSSS 😭😭😭😭😭

Back in October 18, 2024, my manager pissed me off so i turned the day into a treat yo' self moment and pre-ordered some LADS official merch that i then proceeded to forget about

Zayne's Snowy Serenity acrylic stand 🥺 I can literally hear his voice when I read the lines 😭🩷 omg he looks extra handsome here AND THE HAND KISS 💖💖💖

And a Sylus acrylic stand you can write notes on (it came with that marker)....... as if I don't already have two white boards in my study (actually i use them more like magnetic boards so this could work) 🫠 i need to place it somewhere more elevated. It looks odd at eye-level.

I should rearrange my desktop. I want Sylus and Zayne here too 🥺

[saberamane]

If everyone could show this post some love, I'd appreciate it! My mom made/stained this super cute keepsake box and posted it for sale on my etsy.

[redeemedbytheking]

the fact that belle kept the rose rattle tied to her waist in her dress while she danced is just… so beloved. like, she didn’t think she was going to see her father that night. she didn’t think she’d need it as proof of where she had been or what adam had done for her, she just simply wanted it with her. she finally had a piece of her mother to hold onto and she just didn’t want to let it go.

edit: i wrote a fic about it :)

[dvbabybracelet]

The Perfect Christening Gift: Personalized Baby Bangles and Bracelets

A christening is a momentous occasion, marking the beginning of a child's spiritual journey. It's a time for celebration, family gatherings, and finding the perfect gift to commemorate the day. If you're searching for a thoughtful and timeless present, personalized baby bangles and bracelets make exceptional choices. Here’s why these beautiful pieces of jewellery are the ideal christening gift and some tips on how to choose the perfect one.

Why Personalized Baby Bangles and Bracelets?

1. A Keepsake to Cherish: Personalized baby bangles and bracelets are not just accessories; they are keepsakes that will be treasured for years to come. These pieces of jewellery can be kept as mementoes of the christening day, carrying sentimental value as the child grows older.

2. Unique and Thoughtful: Adding a personal touch, such as engraving the baby’s name, initials, or the date of the christening, makes the gift unique. It shows thoughtfulness and care, making it clear that you’ve put effort into choosing something special.

3. High Quality and Durability: Baby bangles and bracelets are often made from high-quality materials like sterling silver or gold, ensuring they are durable and long-lasting. These precious metals are hypoallergenic, making them safe for a baby’s delicate skin.

4. A Symbol of Blessings: Jewellery has long been a symbol of blessings and good wishes. By gifting a personalized bangle or bracelet, you're bestowing your blessings upon the child, hoping for their health, happiness, and prosperity.

Choosing the Perfect Personalized Baby Bangle or Bracelet

When selecting a personalized baby bangle or bracelet, consider the following factors to ensure you choose the perfect gift:

1. Material: Opt for materials that are gentle on a baby’s skin. Sterling silver and gold are popular choices due to their hypoallergenic properties and timeless appeal. Silver bangles often symbolize purity and new beginnings, making them especially fitting for a christening.

2. Size and Adjustability: Babies grow quickly, so it's important to choose a bangle or bracelet that can be adjusted to fit as they grow. Many baby bangles come with an adjustable clasp or a design that can expand, ensuring the child can wear the jewellery for several years.

3. Personalization Options: Decide on how you want to personalize the bangle or bracelet. Common options include engraving the baby’s name, initials, birth date, or the date of the christening. Some jewellers also offer the option to add small charms or birthstones for an extra touch of personalization.

4. Design: Choose a design that is both beautiful and suitable for a baby. Simple and elegant designs are often the best, avoiding anything too bulky or intricate that might be uncomfortable for a baby to wear. Classic designs with a smooth finish are ideal, ensuring they are safe and comfortable.

5. Presentation: Consider the presentation of the gift. Many personalized baby bangles and bracelets come in beautiful gift boxes or pouches, adding an extra touch of elegance. You might also want to include a heartfelt note or a christening card to accompany the gift.

Where to Buy Personalized Baby Bangles and Bracelets

Finding the perfect personalized baby bangle or bracelet is easier than ever with many online and high street jewellers offering a wide range of options. Here are a few tips on where to look:

1. Online Jewellers: Websites like Etsy, Not On The High Street, and specialized jewellers offer a vast selection of customizable baby bangles and bracelets. These platforms allow you to browse various designs and personalization options from the comfort of your home.

2. High Street Jewellers: Local jewellers often carry a selection of baby jewellery and can provide personalized engraving services. Visiting a high street jeweller gives you the advantage of seeing the jewellery in person and ensuring it meets your expectations.

3. Specialised Baby Boutiques: Some boutiques that specialize in baby gifts offer personalized jewellery options. These stores often carry unique designs that are perfect for christenings and other special occasions.

Conclusion

A personalized baby bangle or bracelet is a perfect christening gift that combines thoughtfulness, elegance, and timeless appeal. By choosing a high-quality, customizable piece of jewellery, you’re giving a gift that will be cherished for a lifetime. Whether you opt for sterling silver or gold, a simple design or one adorned with charms, the personal touch you add will make it a truly memorable gift. Celebrate the special day with a gift that symbolizes your blessings and best wishes for the child's future.

[clownaura]

okay!! i’m trying to show off my keepsake box again (*´_ゝ｀) last time it messed up

bits and bobs jar! bottlecaps, canadian coins, random bracelets, ribbon that fell off my favorite stuffie (the orange pieces towards the top, not the pink ribbon haha), other things and such

magical box! four & five leaf clovers + a note and a drawing all from my best friend. some random leaves i’ve found (one sounds like a rattle when you shake it!). a plait from my youngest brother’s first haircut. lots of fortunes.

earrings i’ve bought in the past + my coin jar

school ids LMAO (5th - 11th grade, idk wtf happened to my senior year id) ((yes my birth name is kylie, do NOT call me that please))

more bits and bobs. the jar in the center of the left pic is a sweet jar with a lovely note attached that my best friend made for me before they moved to australia (*´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥﹏°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ )人(´°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥ω°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥｀)

quilt piece made for my parents when i was born, pic with santa (walmart, 2004), insert booklet from the first cassette i bought (one of my favorite bands tbh), old tcby coupon book

if you got this far, thank you!! i love showing people my keepsake box (*´ ˘ `*).｡oO ( ♡ )

[minxinx]

How To Display Your Photos: Wall Art, Albums and More

In an age where everything lives on screens and in the cloud, there’s something deeply satisfying about holding a physical photo or seeing your favorite memories displayed prominently in your home. It’s a tangible reminder of love, connection, and the moments that shape our lives. While having your images at your fingertips is convenient, it’s not the same as the sentiment of walking past a…

[noisycowboyglitter]

Make Christmas Special with Belgian Malinois Dog Pajamas for Families

Belgian Malinois Dog Christmas Pajamas for Family Dogs is a niche but charming product that combines the love for a specific dog breed with the festive spirit of the holiday season. These specialized pajamas are designed to fit the athletic build of the Belgian Malinois, a breed known for its intelligence, loyalty, and working dog capabilities.

Buy now:19.95$

The pajamas typically feature festive Christmas-themed patterns such as snowflakes, reindeer, Santa Claus, or holiday trees, all rendered in classic holiday colors like red, green, and white. The material is usually soft and comfortable, often made from breathable fabrics like cotton or fleece to ensure the dog's comfort while wearing them.

These pajamas serve multiple purposes. Firstly, they provide warmth during the colder winter months, especially for short-haired Malinois. Secondly, they offer a fun way to include the family dog in holiday traditions and photo opportunities. Many pet owners enjoy dressing up their dogs for holiday card photos or family gatherings, and these pajamas allow the Belgian Malinois to participate in the festive fun.

Buy now

The concept of "Family Dogs" in the product description emphasizes the role of the Belgian Malinois as a beloved family member rather than just a working dog. It acknowledges the trend of treating pets as integral parts of the family unit, especially during holiday celebrations.

While some may view dog clothing as unnecessary, many pet owners find joy in occasionally dressing up their furry companions for special occasions. These pajamas cater to that market, specifically targeting owners of Belgian Malinois who want to include their dogs in holiday festivities.

Buy now

It's important to note that when using such clothing, pet owners should ensure the pajamas fit properly and don't restrict the dog's movement or cause discomfort. The safety and comfort of the dog should always be the primary concern.

A Merry Christmas Gift embodies the joy and generosity of the holiday season. It's not just a physical item, but a gesture of love, thoughtfulness, and goodwill. These gifts can range from carefully chosen presents to handmade crafts, each selected or created with the recipient in mind.

Buy now

The concept extends beyond material objects, encompassing acts of kindness, shared experiences, and quality time spent with loved ones. It might be a beautifully wrapped package under the tree, a heartfelt card, or a surprise act of service.

Merry Christmas Gifts often reflect holiday themes, featuring festive colors, winter motifs, or religious symbols. They serve to spread cheer, strengthen bonds, and create lasting memories. Ultimately, a Merry Christmas Gift is about conveying warmth, appreciation, and the spirit of the season.

[beanbowlbaggins]

🌿🕊️a dried flower shadowbox for the wedding ~ 💐

[booscraft]

Website: https://www.booscraftemporium.com

Address: Church Road, Sevenoaks, United Kingdom

Boo's Craft Emporium offers a unique collection of handmade crafts inspired by the memory of Boo, the beloved bunny. Specializing in coastal-themed decor, resin pendants, hand-painted signs, and keepsake boxes, each piece is a one-of-a-kind creation designed to add a touch of charm and character to your home. Dive into our world of meticulously crafted items, where every piece tells a story of love, creativity, and the enduring spirit of Boo.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100083009340980

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[sugardollyxoxo]

Dolly's guide to a bimbolicious summer pt 2

pt 1

Appearance

Pale pink lip gloss, fluffy curls, bombshell bras, pink mini skirts, dolly lashes, body glitter. Being a bimbo is about expressing your inner femininity that society has tried to suppress and shame for far too long. Reject conformity & embracing individuality.

Define your persona- Who is she, really? What’s her color palette? soft pastels or chic neutrals. Is she a sultry video vixen or a sweet dolly princess? Who are her icons? What does a day in her life look like, from how she gets ready to what she wears when she runs errands or lounges at home?

Closet clean out- Put on your favorite playlist, light a candle, and set the mood. When I'm cleaning out my closet I like to imagine it as one of those makeover montages from those 2000s movies.

The easiest part is getting rid of anything you truly dislike. Old baggy tees, cargo pants you never wear, sneakers you don’t love, your brother’s hand me downs Let. Them. Go.

And I know we all have that pair of jeans or sweater with sentimental value that we just can’t let go. That's okay! fold it up and tuck it away in a keepsake box. Out of sight, out of your new aesthetic.

When I’m deciding on what to keep, I like to ask myself:

Does this have potential?

Can I crop it, accessorize it, or layer it?

Does it match anything on my Pinterest board?

I always keep plenty of basics, they can be zhuzhed up later or personally, I like to wear them on gym days or on low effort days when I still want to look cute without doing too much.

Shopping smart- This is the fun part, but also where it’s super easy to fumble. Do not impulse buy the first cute thing you see, or you’ll end up with a piece that’s impossible to style with anything else in your closet.

Keep your Pinterest board open while you shop and make a list of your essentials. Stick to a clear color theme that matches your new vibe, this helps keep your wardrobe cohesive and makes styling way easier.

Now, when it comes to actually shopping I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE thrifting. It’s not only sustainable and budget-friendly, but it makes your aesthetic more authentic.

Let's be real, so many of our fav Y2K brands are now shadows of their former selves and websites like Depop, Poshmark, and Whatnot have so many of those vintage pieces for reasonable prices. If you’re lucky enough to have local thrift stores go! You never know what gems you’ll find between worn denim and random graphic tees. That perfect low-rise mini or baby tee might be waiting for you on a $3 rack.

REMEMBER Your closet becomes an authentic version of you, not just a copy-paste of what’s trending so shop with intent.

Dolly maintenance- Think of yourself as your own personal doll. You would never want your favorite doll to have messy hair, chipped nails, or dull skin right? So treat yourself with the same love and care.

In addition to your daily routines, make time for weekly or monthly beauty appointments. Whether that’s getting your nails done, refreshing your hair, or getting a wax. These rituals keep your inner doll glowing.

Also, make room for spa days at home. Put on a cute robe, light a candle, and pamper yourself with a hydrating sheet face mask, exfoliation, hair treatments, and body oils. Being high maintenance isn’t a flaw. It’s a lifestyle 🤏🏽 🤏🏽 🤏🏽

Posture- Your posture is one of the first things people notice, it silently communicates who you are before you even speak. Slouching expresses shyness & insecurity. Standing tall and open radiates confidence and power. Even the most plain outfit can be elevated simply by the way you sit and walk.

Think of yourself as honey: slow, and intentional. You are not a stick !!! Shoulders back, chin up, and sway those hips. Your posture is not about perfection it’s about presence.

Other tips♡

-Full maximalism I wholeheartedly believe minimalism will be the death of society. So apply that glitter like there’s no tomorrow, wear that statement outfit, none of that “clean girl” around here.

-Even on your off days wear causal outfits in your favorite color

-Find your signature scent. Our smell and memory are closely related, so even if someone doesn't remember your face, that association with your scent can evoke strong emotions.

-Incorporate gua sha and other lymphatic drainage massages into your skincare & body care routine

🎀 TAKE UP SPACE, NEVER apologize for being sexy, girly, soft, loud, or sparkly🎀

[paigesluver]

A Little Sparkle, A Little Secret

paige bueckers x fem reader

synopsis; at paige bueckers’ WNBA Draft night, a simple necklace reveals a quiet romance that had been hiding in plain sight — turning friendship into something more, one subtle moment at a time.

warnings; fluff

hi hi! i’ve had this written since draft night and finally got around to completing it. but did y’all see that necklace on azzi today? yeahhhh😽😽 i hope y’all enjoy this one🙂‍↕️

Paige Bueckers lit up the orange WNBA Draft carpet in a custom Coach suit that looked like it was made of stardust — mocha brown, dripping in over 200,000 glass crystals, with wide-leg pants, a Y2K vest top, and a blazer that shimmered with every step. Her long, wavy hair framed her face, and the black platform shoes only added to the glow she carried — part nerves, part pride, part finally.

You were right behind her — not a player, but a familiar face. You were the student manager for UConn’s team, always in the background, always around. Fans knew you. Some had noticed how you and Paige were nearly inseparable. But it was always chalked up to friendship. You’d both even played into it — “best friends,” you’d say in interviews, laughing like it was the easiest answer in the world.

But tonight, you wore something new.

Something no one could ignore.

A diamond “P” pendant rested against your skin — simple, subtle, but loud in its own way.

No one could have guessed it had been a pre-game gift. Not after the win, not after the celebration — but right before the biggest moment of Paige’s college career.

Just before warmups, Paige had pulled you aside in the tunnel. The arena hadn’t even filled yet, but the energy was already thick. Paige looked calm, but you knew better. There was adrenaline in her eyes — and something else.

“I’ve been saving this,” Paige murmured, slipping a small box into your hand. “Today felt right.”

Inside: the necklace.

“For good luck,” she added, her voice softer now. “And so you’ll have a piece of me, for when I’m not standing next to you.”

It was a good luck charm for the game — but more than that, it was a keepsake. A quiet promise. Her way of saying you’ll still have a piece of me with you, even when this chapter was over. A lowkey but loaded moment — one that hinted at the shift coming for both of you, while quietly confirming what no one else had ever known.

You put it on right then and there. They won. Everything changed after that — but one thing didn’t: the necklace stayed on.

Fast forward to draft night, and it didn’t take long for fans to start piecing things together. After Paige lit up the carpet in her shimmering mocha suit, she slipped away and changed — swapping the glittering set for a sharp black Coach power suit, braless under the blazer, the lapels catching the light with a subtle shimmer. She looked like everything the league had been waiting for.

And when the commissioner finally called her name?

You were the first person she hugged.

Not her parents. Not her coaches. Not even her teammates.

You stood first, arms already open, eyes already shining.

Paige walked straight into you.

It lasted only a few seconds. Just long enough to make fans watching at home blink twice.

Then the tweets started.

“Did anyone else notice that necklace? 👀 Same one from the championship…”

“Paige just gave her the FIRST hug. I’m not saying anything, but I’m saying something... 🤔”

“Okay but WHY does it feel like they’ve been dating for a while and we’re just catching up?”

“They’ve been dropping hints and I’m picking them up! That necklace is too meaningful to be a coincidence.”

“How are they keeping this a secret when the necklace is literally screaming it? 😂”

“That necklace didn’t just appear outta nowhere y’all. The math is mathing. 💅”

Then came the news stories.

“Paige Bueckers’ Draft Night Mystery Guest Turns Heads”

“Is Her ‘Best Friend’ Actually Her Girlfriend? Fans Think So”

Still, nothing official. No hand-holding. No Instagram drops. Just tension, shared smiles, and that necklace that kept catching the flashbulbs.

The real moment came later — at the after-party.

Away from the buzz, in a quieter corner of the room, you leaned your head against Paige’s shoulder.

“You think people figured it out?” you asked, just loud enough over the music.

Paige looked at you, her fingers gently tugging the chain around your neck.

“They’ve been figuring it out,” she said. “Let ’em.”

You grinned. “No regrets?”

Paige tilted her head. “I gave you that necklace before the biggest game of my life. You think I’m scared of a few tweets?”

You didn’t post anything. But someone else did — a snap of you two mid-laugh, your hand resting easily on Paige’s thigh, the necklace front and center.

No caption. No confirmation.

Just two “best friends,” looking a whole lot like something more.

And the internet?

Oh, they knew.

[ghoulishhx]

✦ toys - frank castle x reader

18+ MDNI!!!

My Masterlist

──── ୨୧ ────

Pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader

Warnings/tags: this is a SMUTFEST. mutual masturbation, slight voyeurism? idk, dildo and vibrator use, kinda rough frank, choking, praise (use of good girl and other phrases of the sort), dirty talk, squirting, mutual pining

Summary: your boyfriend frank finally moves in, and while he unpacks he stumbles upon your little collection

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: this is a short little drabble that was floating around my mind today (i havent slept in 48hrs i hope it's good) suggestions are open!!

mwah enjoy <3

Your boyfriend Frank moved in 2 weeks ago and everything has been going so perfectly, co-existing with him under the same roof came so easily you ask yourself why it took so long to ask him. 

Today is a special day, one more box to unpack until he is officially 100% moved in. Only one box to go, and that is his sentimental keepsakes. Pictures of him and Maria, preserved daisy chains made by Lisa, Frank Jr.’s toy army men etc. You allow him to sort this box out alone, not wanting to intrude on such a personal moment for him. You relax on the sofa, aimlessly searching for a movie to watch and that's when you hear him from the bedroom.

“Oh shit, doll. What have ya got goin’ on in here hmm?”

Confused, you cross the living room to meet him in your bedroom, your eyes widening when you realise which drawer he's referring to.. the one where you keep all your toys. 

Your face instantly flushes red with blush, feeling embarrassed about the situation. You look to Frank to meet his gaze, you notice an unfamiliar look in his eye. A mix between playfulness and lust.

He whistles, “Got a whole damn adult store in here sweetheart… didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

You blush even more at his dirty words, picking up a pillow and striking him with it.

“Cut it out! I had to keep myself busy someway before I met you.. And when you’re out at work all day.” you mumble the final part, hoping he didn’t hear it. Spoiler alert, he did. He raises an eyebrow at you, doing his famous cocky side smirk.

“Aww my poor needy girl can’t wait 12 hours to get fucked, mean old Frankie leaving you alone for so long..” he says walking towards you, pushing the hair from your face and lifting your chin to meet his eyes. You avert his gaze, making eye contact with anything in the room but him.

He taps your cheek, sucking your attention back to him.

“I’m talking to ya doll, don’ go all shy on me now.. Hmmm..” He sighs appreciatively as his hands roam across your body, landing on the flesh of your ass, eliciting a whine out of you. He moves his mouth to your ear, his warm breath on your neck sending shivers down your spine. “You wanna know what I’m thinkin’ baby?”

“What are you thinking Frankie?” you whisper back.

“I wanna watch you stuff your pretty pussy with your toys angel.”

You gasp at the lewdness of his voice and words, taking you off guard but also sending jolts of arousal straight to your heat, soaking your panties in an instant.

“Can you do that for me sweetheart? Put on a little show for me?” He leans down and catches you in a kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth to meet your own. “Be a good girl and show me how you get yourself off, yeah?” his lips move to your neck, making you moan and chant curses under your breath like a prayer.

“Anything for you, Frank.”

“That’s my good girl.” He smacks your ass as he steps away from you, watching intently as you strip your clothes, shimmying out of your floral milkmaid dress revealing your white bra and matching thong. The sight has his eyes popping out of his head, as he moves his hand down to roughly palm his bulge in his jeans, already rock-hard.

“You sure you won’t get jealous, baby?” You mischievously smirk as you climb onto the bed, spreading your legs, revealing your soaked panties, Frank groans revelling in the sight before him as he gets comfortable sitting in front of you on the edge of the bed.

“Watch your tone princess, or you won’t get to cum at all.” He slaps your pussy, accentuating his seriousness. You wince at the sensation, it only adds more fuel to the fire that is your arousal. “Fuck baby, you’re fuckin’ soaked”

You lift your hips, and slowly peel your drenched thong from your folds, holding intense eye contact with your boyfriend the entire time. His breath hitches when your sex is fully revealed to him as he unbuckles his belt, letting his jeans pool on the floor.

You’re absolutely eating up how he’s looking at you as he begins stroking his thick cock, with this confidence boost he’s giving you, you put your middle and ring finger in your mouth. Lubricating them by swirling your tongue around the digits, you pull them out with an enthusiastic ‘pop’. You trail your hand down to your aching pussy and begin playing with your engorged clit. Frank moans at the view, staring you down as he touches himself with you. Collecting your slick from your weeping cunt, you push your fingers inside of you, making you hiss at the stretch. With a free hand, you reach over to your pile of toys, grabbing a bright purple dildo. You put the toy in your mouth, sucking down the length while moaning Frank’s name. If he wasn’t enthralled by you before, he is now. Stroking his cock to match the pace in which you suck the toy while fucking yourself with your fingers, Frank’s jaw goes slack as he is hypnotised by your movements.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous baby, just like that. Good fucking girl. Make yerself feel good for me baby, you’ve earned it.”

You take the dildo out of your mouth, and trail it down your stomach leaving a trail of your spit, making your front glisten from the liquid. You finally reach your entrance, and slowly push the toy in all while holding eye-contact with your boyfriend. You whine as you fill yourself completely, beginning slow and consistent thrusts in and out of your cunt.

“F-Frankie.. It feels so good..” You whine, grabbing one of your pebbled nipples through your bra, releasing the flesh of your breasts from the confines. 

“Mmm..” He hums appreciatively, “I want you to imagine its my cock instead, stretching you out. Filling you up so good, fuck.. You always take my cock so perfect. That pussy is mine, all mine sweetheart.” His head falls back but his eyes do not leave you even for a second. Even blinking right now is hell for him, the thought of not seeing you come undone like this makes him want to tape his eyelids open.

“Baby I don’t wanna imagine anymore, please.. I need you. I need your cock inside me instead.” You moan, increasing the pace of which you’re thrusting the toy in and out of your weeping hole.

“You’ll get it baby, trust me. I just need to see ya a little more, ok sugar?” He moves positions now, pulling you towards him as he situates himself behind you, he couldn’t stand not being able to touch you before so he had to give himself some easy access to help you feel good. You instantly fold in his arms, reaching behind his head with a free arm pulling him to the crook of your neck, he instantly starts licking and sucking on the skin there, driving you crazy as he nibbles on your sweet spot.

He reaches over to the pile of toys, all that’s left is a vibrator and butt plug. He smirks, picking up the former and switching the device on. You whine, hearing the vibrations, knowing what's coming.

“Hold this to your clit f’ me doll, be a good girl f’ me yeah?” You nod in his arms, taking your hand from behind his head and grabbing the little pink device. You tremble as you place it onto your bundle of nerves, the pleasure elevated by 100 instantly. You begin to wriggle and writhe, but he holds you firm between his legs in a bruising grip on your hips. You hope it leaves a mark, you love the feeling of waking up the next day to the purples and yellows on your skin from when Frank’s a bit rougher. He’s marking his territory.

“That’sss it doll, that feel good princess?” He asks, moving his hands to harshly grasp your tits, kneading the soft dough and twisting your nipples, all while sucking hickeys into your neck. 

“I’m so close Frankie f-fuck..” your pace becomes to falter as you’re desperate to dive head first into ecstasy. He pauses his assault on your tits becoming aware of your situation. Without thinking, he removes your hand from the base of the dildo and begins fucking you with it himself.

The sounds coming out of your mouth are borderline pornographic, and Frank almost cums from hearing these noises alone. His punishing pace of which he thrusts the toy into you makes you cum almost instantly, still holding the vibrator in one hand the other resumes it’s previous position around his neck, pulling him into the crook of your neck. You coat both the toys, and Frank’s hand, with your juices, as you scream his name.

“That’s my good fucking girl. Let it alllll out f’ me. I love this fucking messy pussy.” He looks down at the dildo and he notices a ring of your cream at the base and you feel his cock twitch against your back, leaking even more pre-cum that he already was. Your arousal returns after your powerful orgasm in record time, feeling him rut into your lower back.

“Need you Frankie.. Please”

“God you know how much I love it when you beg for me. My desperate girl, c’mere.” He flips you over, allowing you to straddle him. You lift your hips, running his cock through your slick folds, collecting lubricant as you know his thick cock will definitely be a stretch compared to the dildo. 

You begin to slip yourself down his length, biting your lip at the sensation. His eyes roll to the back of his head as you situate yourself fully on his cock. You begin to rock your hips back and forth. Grinding down on him as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He grabs your hips, guiding them through your shared pleasure, rubbing comforting circles on your back as he breaks the kiss to put one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling on it like a man starved. 

Looking up at you pleasuring yourself on his cock, he wraps a hand around your neck, holding you in place as he slams his hips into yours. The sound of skin on skin and the squelch of your pussy is like music to his ears, a private concerto performed just for him.

His pace begins to falter, as do yours. You’re both close.

A few thrusts later, he’s spilling his seed deep inside you, almost whimpering at the sensation as your walls contract and pulse around his member. You’re milking each other dry, both incoherent moaning messes as the mutual pleasure washes over you like a tidal wave.

Catching your breath, you pull Frank into one more seering kiss, before climbing from his lap to go to the bathroom and clean yourself up (no UTI today!)

Frank watches you tentatively as your naked form leaves his view, he calls out to you, smirking

“What took ya so long to introduce me to your little friends?”

a/n pt2: i had to use this gif from sharp stick rather than the punisher series because jon looks so gorgeous here i hope you can understand

[requiemforthepoets]

hey, are you still there? ⟢ LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

[wonderjanga]

I’m Never Going Back to That Farm

Clark was talking to Marvel and he realized the man didn’t have anyone to celebrate Christmas with. So, he invited him over. Cause why not? Might as well spread some Christmas spirit. What he didn’t expect was…

Ma Kent: “Clark, your home!” *hugs her son*

Supes: “It’s good to see you too Ma

Ma Kent: “Oh, and who is your little friend-” *looks over to Marvel before doing a double take* “C.C.?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Ma Kent: “Oh my God, C.C. is that really you?” *turns around to call Pa Kent* “Honey! Come here and look who Clark brought over!”

Supes and Marvel: *share a look*

Pa Kent: “What’s wrong Martha?” *comes from the kitchen* “Charley!? Is that really is you?” *rubs his eyes and looks again* “God, we thought you died in the plane crash! Also, Jesus, you’ve grown 2 feet.”

Supes: “Your name is Charley?” *looks over to Marvel*

Ma Kent: “Oh no sweetie, it’s Clarence, but this guy thought the name was too boring. So we either called him Charley or C.C.”

Marvel: “Haha… Yeah.” *oozing awkwardness*

Supes: *staring with a hint of betrayal*

As for why Clark felt betrayed? Well, his parents knew about Marvel’s entire secret identity before he even did! But, that betrayal was quickly forgotten when his Ma and Pa decided to go down memory lane and pull out a box Clark had never seen before.

Supes: “What’s all this?”

Ma Kent: “Just some old keepsakes your father and I look back on every now and then.”

Pa Kent: *pulls out a photo* “Oh I remember this one. One of my biggest races.” *shows a photo of Ma and Pa Kent, and C.C. and Marilyn all smiling at the camera while Pa Kent is holding a second place trophy*

Supes: “Are you wearing a leather jacket here? Also who’s that?” *points to Marilyn*

Marvel: “That’s my uh…” *looks to the Ma and Pa Kent before looking back to Clark* “My wife?”

Supes: “Wife?!”

Ma Kent: *ignores him* “Speaking of her, where is Marilyn? Did she not come along? Are you two still married?”

Marvel: *also ignores him* “Oh uhm… She didn’t survive the crash.” *still super awkward*

*silence*

Ma Kent: “Oh Charles… I’m so sorry.”

Pa Kent: “And the kids?”

Supes: “Kids?!”

Marvel: *continues ignoring him* “They’re doing good. Mary and Billy are twelve now.”

Ma Kent: “Oh that’s just wonderful. Say, Clark, isn’t Jon the same age as Charley’s kids?”

Supes: “He’s a year younger.”

Pa Kent: *puts the photo of the four of them back into the box* “You two should set up a little playdate.”

Marvel: “Maybe.” *awkward smile*

So now Clark is completely floored. This man that he’s known for nearly 5 years has had a wife who died??? Not only that, but he has two whole children??? Also Cap knew his parents when they were younger??? He’s definitely going to ask more about that playdate though. Jon should have more superpowered friends his age.

Later during dinner…

Pa Kent: “You know, Charley it surprises me how much you haven’t changed.”

Marvel: “Huh…? Whatdya mean?” *shoveling food in his mouth because it delicious*

Ma Kent: “Well, for starters, you look the exact same.” *little laugh as she puts more food on Marvel’s plate*

Pa Kent: “And when you’re not being super awkward, your personality hasn’t changed all that much either.”

Marvel: “You’ve noticed me being awkward?”

Supes: “It’d be kind of hard not to notice, Cap.”

Billy found out more about his parents from this one Christmas alone than he had in his entire life up until now. That is why he will not be coming back to this farm ever again. He’ll send Christmas cards, he might even send a gift or two, but never again. He doesn’t want these two to realize their friend is actually dead. They’re sweet little old people who don’t deserve that. But other than all that, Billy is super happy to find out he and his dad are very similar in personality. It makes him feel closer to the man.

Also, I went on Wikipedia to learn more about the Kent’s and apparently Pa Kent was a race car driver so in case anybody was confused about the race thing, there’s your explanation.

Also, also, as for how the Batsons and the Kents knew each other? Let’s say that Marilyn grew up in Smallville and met Martha. Then Marilyn moved away to Fawcett, but the two still kept in touch. Then both of the women met their respective husbands and they all got together to be a nice little friend group. And then, you know, the Batsons died.

Also, also, also, after this whole thing, Clark started calling Billy Charley or C.C. which made Billy violently flinch when it first happened. After a while though, he grew used to it because he’d rather be called Charley and have someone think he’s C.C. Batson instead of someone thinking he’s Billy.

Also, also, also, also, (I’m sorry I can’t help but add more) when Clark thought no one was looking, he whipped out his phone and took several pictures of the photo of the Kents and Batsons. Or more accurately, he took photos of the part of the picture with C.C. in a leather jacket. Marvel just didn’t seem like the type so he wanted recorded evidence so he could be sure he wasn’t crazy.

Alright I’m done now. Super duper early Christmas post, yay!

[azulhood]

It all started because of a school project, technically two projects, while it wasn't a world ending threat they set of a change reaction that lead to startling discoveries.

Mr Lancer had given the class the task of looking through their pasts and finding an life changing event that helped shape them into the person that were today and writing about that event.

It was a ten page essay (they were allowed to go over that limit) the more details the better and if you had something from that event to show (such as photos or keepsakes or really anything) you were awarded extra credit.

Danny's choice of event was the school field trip to a nearby museum he went on when he was seven, the space exhibit they had was what sparked his love for the stars and kick-started his dreams of being an astronaut.

It wasn't like he had any other choice (he doubted mister Lancer would accept 'my death' as a good life changing event)

He knew that he had photos of the field trip somewhere with all the other photos taken throughout his life, he just had to find them.

And after digging through thousands of boxes and piles of discarded inventions he handled with care (in case they blew up) he found them tucked inside an old photo album covered in green stains that sat on top of a bookshelf.

Opening the book caused all the pictures to fall into his lap, it seems like his parents didn't get around to actually adding them to the book, Danny resigned himself to spending the rest of his day shifting through old photos.

It wasn't all bad though, he found pictures of when Sam still had blonde hair and wore pink and of that time Tucker wrote an 'I love you' on his parents cars with their keys and many other embarrassing photos.

A treasure trove of blackmail material.

He finally found the picture he was looking for.

All of the kids who are now students of Casper high stood in front of an old building each proudly holding up something they bought in the gift shop (Danny had bought a book on planets that had long ago fallen apart)

It was a normal photo.

And yet, something seemed off.

Sam and Tucker were there with him in between them, Dash was there too.

Along with Kwan, Mikey, Paulina, Valerie, and all the others.

And yet, something was missing.

Then it hit him.

Wes wasn't there.

Danny could've sworn that he had been on that trip, but the more he thought about it the less he was sure.

He couldn't actually remember Wes being there and Danny remembered nearly everything about that trip.

'Maybe he was sick or something?' It was the most logical thing he could think of to explain the other absence, that and his parents not wanting him to go for some reason.

Mystery solved he pushed it to the back of his mind , he had an essay to finish.

Still, it stuck with him.

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

The next school project Lencer gave them was one with assigned partners.

Danny got Wes who, despite not being Sam or Tucker, was leagues better then Dash and he'd take that as a win.

Wes had insisted on studying at his house so he could, and Danny quotes "Keep an eye on you Fenton"

Danny could practically feel the hidden cameras burning a hole into him while he stood in front of the Weston's door, waiting for him to go ghost for whatever reason.

Jokes on him though, Danny asked all the ghosts to leave him along for this month with the promise of giving them a head start the next time they caused trouble, so really Wes was just wasting his time.

"This way." Wes said already heading inside without caring if Danny followed.

Being the first time he had ever been in Wes's home Danny looked at everything and anything.

It was a fairly normal home, not like Danny's which had an anti-ghost defense system or Sam's super rich house.

But more like Tuckers

One of the things that drew his attention was the pictures that lined the walls.

There were so many.

Some with Wes and his mom, some with just him, some with just his mom, and some with people Danny didn't recognise.

But there were no baby photos.

The only pictures Danny could find of a young Wes seemed to be from when he was eight? Nine?

And nothing before.

'Maybe they were put away in storage' Danny guessed, but it still made his brain itch.

He remembered looking at old school photos and not finding any sign of a young Wes at all, he didn't even remember Wes coming to school any time before the year Danny turned eight.

And in a small town where everyone knew everyone that really wasn't possible.

'Maybe they moved here and lost a lot of stuff' Which would explain a lot, well no harm in asking. "Did you loss a lot when you moved here?"

Wes stopped walking and turned around to give him a look that asked if he was insane. "I've lived here my whole life, Fenton."

Danny froze, that couldn't be right, he'd remember that.

Something was wrong.

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

Tim Drake sat in front of the bat computer as the rest of his family patrolled.

He had one monitor displaying the other bats locations while all the other monitors were used to show him files, or rather the lack there of.

Wayne Enterprises had tournaments held for schools and the prize was an all express paid trip to Gotham and tour of WE and surrounding areas, Tim could think of way better prizes that weren't visiting the crime capital of the world but that wasn't the point.

What was the point was that every time there was a winner Tim preformed a routine background check on students and staff (and by routine he means learn their whole live story) just in case anyone happened to be trained assassins set to kill one of them, stranger things have happened.

Wes Weston was one such student whose background Tim had to check.

And he found nothing.

Sure, there were hospital and school documents from age eight and upwards, but other then that nothing.

There was no birth certificate, no evidence of him attending daycare, nothing.

It was as if Wes did not exist before he was eight years old.

And perhaps the most interesting thing.

Amy Weston was listed as Wes's biological mother, DNA even said as much, and yet Amy's medical file said that she had never been pregnant and also had no siblings that could've been Wes's parent.

And yet Wes existed, appearing one day as if he had always been there.

Was it cloning? Aliens? Magic? A changeling? Someone creating false information to hide the truth?

It was a mystery, and mysteries had always been Tim's Kryptonite.