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#VIS. RAPUNZEL.
kaycartoons · 4 months
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I think one of my favorite things about modern cartoons of the 2010's - 2020's is the amount of great characters that came out of this era of cartoons.
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the-great-bob-off2024 · 2 months
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Round 1, Match 2
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Bob Propaganda
Rapunzel: "the love of her life cut it (killing himself in the process) to save her from her kidnappers! it literally symbolises her freedom!" [x]
Valeris: "she's evil, she has a weird metal headband, and her sideburns are shaved" [x]
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autumnmobile12 · 1 year
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I am now lamenting the fact that Tangled did not come out during this shift in mainstream media where animation studios are defying the gender biases and representing women with muscles.
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Especially after the Encanto creators had to fight to give this character any muscle whatsoever.
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Because, let's be real, after hauling her ‘mother’ up and down that tower and casually swinging a cast iron frying pan around like it weighs nothing, you know Rapunzel would have been jacked.
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lonelybread69 · 2 years
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I have been rewatching the barbie movies...
there so much potential :)
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brittanybwrites · 1 year
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The next three books I’m reading this week.
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crappymixtape · 4 months
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tangled • part one
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PART II • PART III • PART IV • PART V • PART VI ❝ all you’ve known your entire life is in the inside of your tower – the brick walls covered in your murals skating around you in a semi-perfect circle, the view from the very top one that would take anyone’s breath away, but how could it be beautiful when you could never leave? that is, until an unexpected someone happens upon your hidden tower and offers you a chance to escape | (  3.2k, tangled AU • fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, steve x you, steve x reader )
S E T M E F R E E, O H I P R A Y 🎶 cowboy take me away, fireswimmer
You were up with the birds, awake as fingers of sunlight slipped through your window and fanned out over the quilt you’d stitched together during the winter months. Spring was coming to an end and the days were growing warmer, enough to probably not need your quilt any longer, and when you stepped out of bed onto the cobblestone floor you felt a buzz of inspiration zip through you.
Maybe it was the way the sun crept through your window or maybe it was the sound of the waterfall rushing just outside the tower, but you wanted so badly to run your fingers through the grass. Hear the way the breeze blew through the trees. Dip your toes in the water and look at the details of a petal up close and–
“Rapunzel! Let down your hair!”
Mother’s voice drifted up from the bottom of the tower and you felt your heart hammer in your chest. You’d never asked her to leave the tower before, hadn’t asked her for much honestly, but with your birthday coming up maybe she would make an exception.
Every year, on the eve of your birthday, lights would illuminate the sky. Dancing and swirling among the stars and drifting beneath the moon. Beautiful and sparkling and it happened every single year. Why? You were dying to find out. They weren’t far from the tower, surely she would entertain your request. After all, it was your birthday.
“Rapunzel! I’m not getting any younger down here!”
“Coming, Mother!” you called back and tossed your long, shiny locks up over the hook spun into the roof of the tower. They cascaded down the wall and landed in a spun pile at her feet.
Pulling and pulling and pulling, Mother ascended up to the window inch by inch until she stepped up onto the ledge and into your circular room, “Good morning, dear.”
“Morning, Mother.”
“It’s time to brush your hair dear. I saw on the way up, you’ve got twigs tangled up in the ends. Hardly a way to treat such beautiful locks, my goodness. What do you do all day? Tsk. Just another reason for me to keep you here, you can’t even manage to properly care for yourself.”
A pang of shame hit you square in the chest and you wrapped your arms around your torso, making yourself smaller. Unseen. Unheard.
“Sit,” Mother said pulling up a stool and you did as you were told, sitting on the small surface as she took the chair behind you, brush in hand. “Now sing me our song. You know how much I love it,” she demanded, not asked, and you did as you always did…
Flower, gleam and glow, Let your power shine, Make the clock reverse, Bring back what once was mine.
Heal what has been hurt, Change the fates' design, Save what has been lost, Bring back what once was mine. What once was mine.
“That’s my girl,” Mother appraised, running the brush through the ends of your hair and pulling too hard at the end, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.
“Mother…” you started, hesitant, reluctant. Should you ask? She seemed in as good a mood as ever.
“What is it?” she snapped, short. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea, but something in you pushed. Please, please ask. If you don’t ask we won’t ever know. And you had to know.
“I was thinking–”
“Never a good thing,” Mother teased meanly and you bit your bottom lip between your teeth. Nerves swelling in your chest.
“I was just thinking...tomorrow is my birthday and well–well, there’s something I was hoping we might be able to do.”
Mother hummed in her throat, a sharp thing that held irritation, like you were a pest she couldn’t rid herself of. “And? Rapunzel come now, speak up!”
“And–and I was wondering if you might take me to see the lights at the castle. They’re there every year on my birthday! They can’t be stars…I’ve charted them all and I just…I want to see what they are–”
“The lights?” Mother started to laugh. “The lights? Rapunzel you must be joking.”
“No, I’m not…I’m not joking, Mother I really do want–”
“Truly, how could you think I would just take you–”
“Mother, it’s what I really want! I just want to see the lights!” you shouted, but as soon as the words left your lips you clamped your hands over your mouth. Afraid of what you’d just done.
Mother narrowed her eyes at you, lips firmed into a twisted line, angry and her patience evaporated as she took a step toward you and you shrank again.
“You will never raise your voice at me like that again, is that clear?”
“Yes, Mother.”
Her voice notched up in volume as she stepped closer to you.
“And I don’t ever want to hear about those lights again, is that clear!”
She was closer still, breath heated and harsh against your cheek.
“Yes, Mother.”
Towering over you, Mother took you by the wrist and roughly pulled you up to her face so that you were inches away, the heat of her words spilling and burning and wicked, “And you will absolutely NEVER, EVER be leaving this tower! Is that clear??”
When you spoke for the final time your voice cracked, tears streaming down your cheeks, chest burning with embarrassment and shame and regret. “Yes, Mother.”
Letting go of your wrist, Mother sighed and sank back into her chair, eyes closed and fingers pinching her the bridge of her nose.
“Ugh, now I’m the bad guy.”
You sniffed, wiping your eyes hastily with the backs of your hands, trying and scrambling to regain your composure. Afraid to push her even the tiniest bit further. You wished you’d never asked, wished you kept your thoughts to yourself. The lights, your birthday, all of it. Wished you could take it all back.
Clearing your throat you sat back on your stool, curled into yourself as you peered up at Mother sitting her in chair. Impatient. Bothered. Exasperated.
“Mother…” you started tentatively, “I know what I want for my birthday now.”
“And what’s that?” she sighed.
“New paint? The kind made from the shells you once brought me.”
She fixed you with a look, the way you might regard a dog begging for scraps, “Well, now that is a long journey, Rapunzel.”
“Please? I promise not to ask about the lights again,” pressing your hands together you tried to look sorry, thankful, grateful, please.
Mother sighed again, but you held onto hope. “Oh, alright,” she conceded, standing from her chair to gather her things. Surely you couldn't do much damage over a few days. “I’ll be back in three days time. Are you sure you’ll be able to manage without me?” she asked.
You gave her a small smile, “Yes, mother. I’ll be fine.”
“You know I love you,” your mother said, a tight smile pulling at her lips.
“Yes, mother. I love you too,” you murmured.
“I’ll see you a bit, my flower!”
And with that you watched as she descended the tower, your hair in her hands sliding down, down, down to the grass below and off into the open, free, world you wanted so badly to explore, only to stand at your window while Mother disappeared into the vines draped at the edge of the meadow and into…well, unlike you, where ever she wished to go.
I SAID I WANNA TOUCH THE EARTH, I WANNA BREAK IT IN MY HANDS, I WANNA GROW SOMETHING WILD AND UNRULY.
Unbeknownst to you, the path to your freedom lay in the hands of a man just on the other side of the very vines Mother had just stepped through. Well…technically he was a man, but really more boy in the way he held himself. And carried conversation. And continually found himself in trouble because of his inflated ego, but a man nonetheless, holding your freedom.
Flynn Rider, a rogue, a thief, a ruffian. Just over six feet tall with sweeps of dark brown hair, skin like it held all of summer and the sun beneath it, eyes like burnt sugar and dotted in freckles and apparently much faster than he looked.
“RIDER!”
“Sorry, boys, gotta go!”
Flynn crashed through the line of shrubs he’d just hurled himself into and fell out the other side, scrambling to find his footing. He was probably going to regret the decision he’d just made, but that would be a problem for future Flynn Rider.
Patting the satchel at his side he peeked into make sure the contents were still intact and at the sound of thundering hooves picked his pace back up, sprinting through the woods.
It was a beautiful day, not a cloud in sight, rays of sun shining through canopy and dappling the forest floor with warm sunlight. It would have been even more beautiful if Flynn wasn’t being chased by the King’s guard, but he supposed it was the only option when you’d stolen the crown of the missing princess.
Chest heaving with the effort, he pushed his legs to go faster. Sprinting over fallen logs and thick brambles, wincing but not stopping as they pulled and slashed at the thin fabric of his tunic. He had to find cover before he ran out of breath or else he’d face the gallows.
Again.
It wasn’t that he was a bad guy. He wasn’t murderous or wanted for treason or anything. In fact, he wanted to be done with this life on the run and so he hoped this might be his ticket out. Hawk the lost princess’ tiara and hop a boat to somewhere far, far away.
His lungs started to burn as he sucked in air, sidestepping a particularly nasty blackberry bush and earning a scratch across his cheek. “Damn,” he hissed, wincing at the pinch of pain. He could hear the guards closing in behind him, the captain giving orders to his men to split up and Flynn knew his time grew short.
An arrow grazed past his ear as his slammed into a tree, the tip sinking into the bark just inches from his hands.
Too close.
“A promotion to which ever of you idiots catches, Rider!” the captain shouted and it pushed Flynn into another sprint.
Step over step over step, out of the thick stand of trees and into a wide field of wheat. The shhh shhh shhh of the grass against his trousers hissing as he stumbled once on a dirt clod and again on a molehill until the third time he wasn’t so lucky.
The toe of his boot caught on a rock dug into the dirt, sending him flying forward and over the edge of an embankment. Tumbling head over heels down, down, down and hitting the bottom with a heavy THUD!
“Sir! We’ve lost him!”
“What d’you mean you’ve lost him??”
“I–I’m not sure, sir. We–we’ve lost visual.”
“Bloody useless–if you lot can’t find him, then I’ll do it myself!!”
Groaning, Flynn pushed himself up from where he’d landed and blinked away the knock to the head he’d just earned for running through a damn field. Voices carried down the embankment and he could hear the King’s guard scuttling about back up the hill – they didn’t know where he was.
Scrambling back up onto his feet, Flynn quickly checked to make sure the tiara was still in place before frantically looking for an out. He had a moment’s cover while they tried to find him back up at the top, but surely they’d see the bent wheat stalks at some point. The bottom of the gully was more of the same, thick brush and brambles and trees and…vines? All drooping down just above the ground at the same angle and blowing just ever so in the breeze.
Brows knitted together he pushed a hand to them and stumbled forward a bit when his hand fell through them, not solid. So he pushed further still, watching as his arm disappeared further and further until he was completely concealed.
“Sir! We found something!”
Sucking in a gasp, Flynn pressed himself against the rock of the tunnel he’d just discovered and held his breath. The King’s guard tramped down the hill and trotted right past his hiding spot, their shadows dancing across the vines as they concealed him out of sight.
“He’s here somewhere, keep looking!”
The sound of hooves slowly disappeared and when quiet flooded back in, Flynn could hear the sound of a…river? A waterfall? Birds and a soft breeze across his skin…taking a few steps toward the bright light at the other end of the tunnel Flynn shielded his eyes in the crook of his arm and walked out into the most beautiful place he’d ever seen.
A waterfall cascaded down a cliff at the far edge of the little valley he’d wandered into, crashing into the rocks below and fanning out into a river that wound its way through the ground and past his feet. All manner of birds chirped and sang as they flew through the cloudless sky, landing peacefully in the trees. And there, just in the very center, a tower made of brick and cobblestones with a thatched roof, a chimney and windows all around but…no way up?
He knew he couldn’t stay idle, even if he was out of sight for now, surely the King’s guard would find him. Taking one quick loop around the tower, there was still no door in sight, so snatching the pair of daggers from the belt at his waist he stabbed one between the bricks high above his head and pulled to test his weight. When it held he found his footing and drove the second dagger in and arm over arm began to climb up to the largest window.
His biceps were burning, his shoulders on fire. There were a few times Flynn even thought he would surely fall to his death, but slowly he made it up, up, up and when he finally fell through the window gasping for breath, he prayed to whatever gods there may be that he might find a bed at the top of the bloody tower. Stealing a crown, outsmarting two idiot thugs and then running from the King’s guard was no easy feat and he could feel exhaustion in his very bones.
Heaving himself up off the cobblestone floor he loosed a heavy sigh of relief and pushed his hair from his eyes.
“Gods, finally. Alone at last.”
And then with a very loud CLANG! everything went black.
IN THE COMFORT OF YOUR ARMS, ON A PILLOW OF BLUE BONNETS, IN A BLANKET MADE OF STARS, OH, IT SOUNDS GOOD TO ME.
There was a man.
In your tower.
In your room.
AT YOUR FEET.
How he’d made it all the way to the top of the tower without the aide of your hair was beyond you, but as you peeked out at him from behind your mannequin you couldn’t help the tiny pang of guilt in your chest. Maybe you didn’t have to hit him with your frying pan, but it was too late for that now.
You’d never seen one before, only knew what Mother told you: dark, beady eyes and sharp fangs, gnarled hands to snatch you with and kidnap you away into the night.
Stepping out from your hiding place you took a tiny step forward, the smallest step, and poked him with the handle of your pan.
“HEY!” you shouted, but he didn’t move. “Oh, gods…” Did you kill him?
Another few steps and your bare toes nearly brushed his arm. Slowly extending the pan again you turned his head with the handle and nudged his lip, but in place of scary fangs were teeth. Just like yours. Bending down carefully you lifted a hand to his face and hesitated, waiting for something to happen, but his steady breaths continued to fall and his eyes remained shut.
A cut chased across his cheek, the tiniest streak of blood along with it, and your brow furrowed with worry. Did it hurt?
You ghosted your hand over his, just as normal as ever though a bit rough and maybe a little dirty, but wide and warm. Not gnarled. Not scary. You wondered at what it would feel like to hold it, yours so small and his so big.
Slowly, gently, your fingers trailed through the sweep of brown hair covering his face and brushed it aside to reveal mole dotted skin, warm and golden like summer and he’s beautiful. The most wonderful thing you’ve ever laid eyes on and you want to see more and–
“Unghh…”
CLANG!
You instantly regretted hitting him again, but what were you supposed to do? He opened his eyes and began to stir and what if he’d jumped up to grab you?
A groan escapes your lips and you rough your hands over your face, you still have a man in your tower. What to do, what to do. As you took stock of your modest surroundings there wasn't much to work with. Your mannequin, a small stove, things for baking and sewing and painting, your bed, your closet–
Your closet!
Blowing a puff of air between your lips, you bent down and grabbed hold of his feet and pulled a little. When he didn't stir you pulled again. A little more, a little further, a little further and further and straining, struggling almost dropping him, you shoved him into the wardrobe and slammed the doors shut, propping the handles closed with a chair.
“Oh! Oh! I did it!” you squealed, sweat clinging to your brow, giving a little jump of excitement. “I did it!! I’ve got a person in my closet. I’ve got a person in my closet…I’ve got a person in my closet! Mother thinks I’m too weak to handle myself, huh? Well, we’ll just see about that!”
And as you took a victory lap around the room your eyes caught something on the floor. A bag you hadn’t seen before and as it fell open, the contents inside flickered in the light as it came through the cracks in the roof.
Picking up the satchel you pulled back the flap and found something even more beautiful than the man you’d just shoved into your closet.
Gold. Purples and pinks and turquoises and glittering in the sunlight and as you carefully picked it up, you were surprised at how heavy it was. Eyes narrowing, you hold it closer to look at the intricate way the gold pieces twist around the jewels and gems, securing them in place and creating little flowers along the sides.
A smile flickers at the corners of your lips. It looks just like the pictures from your fairytale books. The kind of thing only a princess would wear. Laughing softly you step in front of your mirror and hesitantly hold it up over your head. Just for a moment. Just to see what it would look like…
Slowly, softly you lowered it and let it settle upon your head and a flash of light strikes you. A memory, bright and sharp and vivid. A spinning sun hanging overhead. The most lovely laughter, like music, like a song. A warm embrace. A lullaby.
BANG!
Sounds from the closet and you nearly fling the crown to the ground. How foolish of you to let you guard down. How could you forget? You could hear Mother scolding you, telling you how stupid you were, how you could have been kidnapped or killed.
Heart hammering against your ribs your eyes settle back on the closet as it bangs again.
Your guest was awake.
crappymixtape™ • steve harrington masterlist // stranger things masterlist ♥️ reblogs and comments keep me going, friends! ily! ♥️
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fairytalesfromthesmp · 2 months
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Settle into your seats, folks, we’ve got some new stories to tell. We are proud to present…
Fairytales from the SMP: Volume II
This year’s storybook consists of twelve incredible fairytales reimagined by a few wonderful minds of the dsmp fandom! Follow some of your favorites through tales of family, friendship, romance, and more as we dive into this spellbinding collection.
Thank you to everyone who made this possible! To all the writers, artists, betas, and backups, this wouldn’t have been possible without you. Thank you to the mods, new and old, and thank you to all who joined us in this journey, come and gone. You’ve all made this worthwhile!
Be sure to give lots of love to all these people because without them, this collab would be nothing more than a dream!
Little Red Riding Hood - Written by Ocean ( @bottleofchaos ), Illustrated by Taizi ( @rebelwithoutabroom ) and Yumi ( @mahikamihan )
Snow White & The Seven Dwarves - Written by Stardust ( @chasing-stardust-22 ), Illustrated by Ocean
Hansel and Gretel - Written by Day ( @day-time-dream ), Illustrated by Zuzu ( @zuzypiia ) and Orange ( @fresh-flames )
Jack and the Beanstalk - Written by Lupine ( @iced-sweet-dt ), Illustrated by Michy ( @michygranger23 )
The Tortoise and the Hare - Written by Blank ( @blankerthought ), Illustrated by Calder ( @day-mark ) and Curo ( @curoopeez )
Robin Hood - Written by Scoops ( @scoops404 ), Illustrated by Thal ( @thal-chandra ) and Root ( @rutadales )
Prince and the Pauper - Written by Cadence ( @dwtdog ), Illustrated by Blank
The Seal Catcher - Written by Chelsey ( @czargasm ), Illustrated by Bicho ( @bicho-callejero ) and VoidPidgeon ( @voidpidgeon )
The Three Musketeers - Written by Amie/Bagel ( @bagelrites ), Illustrated by Litchi ( @llitchilitchi ) and Vi ( @icecreamvi )
Beauty and the Beast - Written by Taizi, Illustrated by VoidPidgeon and Wolflyn ( @wolflyndraws )
The Unwilling Mermaid - Written by Sword ( @swordfright ), Illustrated by Root and Kenjo ( @kenjo-arts )
Rapunzel - Written by Crow ( @mello-when-hi ), Illustrated by Calder and Shishi ( @shishi-neraoiba )
Beta Readers: Echo ( @timetravelkoolaid ), Luna ( @milktearosethorn ), Scrims ( @scrimblyprimbly ), Lobelia ( @unholy-virtue ), Vee ( @twirlybumblevee ), Spri ( @showcontrols ), and Jinx ( @nyxcandie )
Backups: Backup Writer Rav ( @raviolihailstorm ), Backup Writer Lobelia, and Backup Artist Harmony ( @harmingharmony )
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sage-nebula · 21 days
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I think Jinx's new look is from the end of the season, and I think it's inspired by her taking Ekko's words to heart.
In the trailer, we see Ekko telling her, "Sometimes taking a leap forward means leaving some things behind." What's notable about this clip is that we can see that Jinx still has her long blue bang in front of her face when he's talking to her. Now, maybe it's just the lighting — it does look like they're in a dark room — but it looks Powder blue, not cyan like in her new look above.
The thing about Jinx is that she, consciously, has moved on from her past by the time arc 2 starts, in the sense that she knew that she grew up to be who she is, that she took the name Jinx, she saw Silco as her father, etc. Vi, who clung to the past (for sympathetic reasons) did sow some doubts in her about "could I get some of that (i.e. my sister's love) back?", but by and large she knew that she was always the same person (Powder = Jinx, people, and always has, and she has always known this), and the act of "choosing" which one to be was just that: an act, a performance for Vi and Silco, both of whom acted as if Powder and Jinx were two separate people. She was performing for them, while also punishing them for hurting her and testing their love for her. There was a lot going on at that family dinner.
But I digress. The point I'm making is, for the most part Jinx accepts who she is in the present, but she is still held by some things — namely, Zaun and all of the trauma that has been inflicted upon her there since she was a baby, from all sides. (Sides which include her sister, even though Vi was only a traumatized child herself and did her best.)
I made a post just last night about how being a symbol is not a good thing for Jinx and not a thing she wants, and if I'm right and her updated look comes at the end (or at least later) in the season, then I think this is a conclusion that Jinx herself comes to as well.
Because look at her.
Jinx no longer matches any of Zaun's murals of her, nor does she match those who changed their appearances to look like her. She is wearing a completely different outfit, yes—but she has also marked her own skin with bright graffiti. She has put lavender and cyan streaks in her hair, a stark difference from the blue Zaun took to use as a symbol. And if you look closely, it looks like she cut her hair:
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Paint washes off and temporary dye fades fast, but hair can take forever to grow, especially Rapunzel braids like Jinx had. But she cut it off, despite how her long, long braids were depicted in multiple of Zaun's murals. Jinx doesn't want to be their symbol. She wants to be a person. Her own person. And to do that, it means leaving Zaun—and everything and everyone there who can trigger her—behind.
I think Jinx is saying goodbye to the city at the end of this season. Vi may stay as an enforcer, and Ekko will stay to try to build Zaun back up, but Jinx? I think she's leaving.
And honestly? Good for her.
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anastasiaofrussia · 1 month
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• ENFPs are true free spirits, often the life of the party, but they value social and emotional connections over the noise. Charismatic, independent, energetic, and compassionate, they make up about 7% of the population and stand out in any crowd.
• Far-sighted by nature, ENFPs are not just social pleasers; they see life as a complex, interconnected puzzle, approached with curiosity and energy. They focus on emotions, compassion, and mysticism, always seeking deeper understanding.
• When inspired, ENFPs radiate energy that draws others in, though they prefer independence over the spotlight. Their self-esteem is tied to their ability to make original decisions and take initiative, and they quickly lose patience in dull roles.
• Social interactions allow ENFPs to connect emotionally and understand others’ motivations. However, relying too much on intuition can lead to misunderstandings and stress, which can disrupt their focus on harmony. Emotional and sensitive, ENFPs invest heavily in studying relationships and ideas.
• When they find their place in the world, ENFPs’ imagination, empathy, and courage can lead to remarkable achievements.
Strengths: curious, perceptive, enthusiastic, excellent communicators, easygoing, good - natured and positive.
Weaknesses: people pleasing, unfocused, disorganised, overly accommodating, overly optimistic, restless.
ENFP characters: Willy Wonka (Charlie and the chocolate factory), Anna (Frozen), Rapunzel (Tangled), Ariel (The little mermaid), Mirabel Madrigal (Encanto), Jo March (Little women), Anne Shirley (Anne with an E), Peter Parker (Spider man).
ENFP people in the past: Anne Frank, Mary Stuart, James VI and I, Madame de Pompadour, Olga Alexandrovna Romanova.
If you repost please give credits.
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antispopausandstuff · 1 month
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SPOP and the problem with "you vs. me"
.
you know the drill, this will be very long and may be scattered.
in attempts to show a more completed picture, i will be referencing arcane to compare sibling // familial dynamics and how the respective medias represented them.
.
as adora is our main protagonist and catra was an main antagonist, a lot of the show's focus is on their characters and arcs ( or a lack thereof ). however, because of the blatant favoritism of catra over adora, rather than it being relatively equal or at least addressed in a more healthier way, this results in both the show and fandom diminishing adora's trauma and showcasing catra's.
the "you vs. me" conflict is a standard trope in fiction and is very much a struggle relationships have in real life, due to many issues including, but not excluded to, honesty, deceit, manipulation, accountability issues, anger issues, victimization, villainization, etc.
in fact, in terms of it being a trope, you could say that almost all of fiction relies on this, especially with protagonist vs. antagonist scenarios, such as batman & joker, superman & lex luthor, sonic & eggman, aang & ozai, korra & kuvira, or, in this case, adora & catra.
but when i'm referencing this trope, i'm specifically referring it to be in a familial context, such as zuko & azula, eda & lilith, vi & jinx, and so on and so forth.
now, what makes adora and catra so different from most other relationships that fall under this trope is because of one problem:
inconsistency.
despite the abuse being the center reason why adora and catra are separated and at odds with each other, the show is more focused on the effects of catra's trauma rather than the cause.
she is flippant with shadow weaver, doesn't hold her in very high regard as an authority or maternal figure, and just generally doesn't show any possible affection or positive emotion towards shadow weaver unless it has something to do with proving her wrong until s2, when s1 already establishes a hostile relationship between the two and catra explicitly stating she doesn't need shadow weaver.
now, this isn't to say that the cycle of abuse is a straight line. the writers can have catra show animosity towards shadow weaver and still make a relationship where she ends up being the victim of manipulation and hostility. but how they did it is the issue.
let's compare her story to jinx's.
parental situation - unlike catra, powder did not have a negative relationship with vander. but it wasn't a necessarily positive one, either. it was more awkward, silent, and not really given a chance to grow and develop into something more loving.
i don't doubt vander cared for powder, but it wasn't the exact way he cared for vi. the only thing they had in common was that they loved vi, but even that was in different ways ( parent // sibling ).
meanwhile, catra's relationship with shadow weaver has no actual room for plausible deniability on either end, but more importantly, catra's end.
there's no mother gothel-esc scene where shadow weaver love-bombs and gaslights her, no 'loving' manipulation, there's barely even a power imbalance, it's just animosity on both ends in the establishing season.
all of those scenes are towards adora instead, creating a rapunzel // mother gothel dynamic, like mentioned, as shadow weaver groomed her, used her for power, and raised her to be the perfect child soldier.
akin to mother gothel, after adora left the horde, shadow weaver become hyper-focused on getting her back and returning to the status quo, and both abusers do this by manipulation, sabotage, gaslighting, and instilling fear into their victims.
we don't get this with catra until s2.
the reason why this doesn't work is because:
catra is fully aware of the horde
catra is fully aware of shadow weaver
catra references // insults adora for being manipulated
catra establishing she doesn't need or want shadow weaver
catra broke shadow weaver's mask // source of power
all in s1.
which is why, when you watch s2, you might be wondering "why did she fall for that?" if you recall earlier scenes of basically admonishing adora for being a victim of abuse herself.
"she was desperate!" you say. but just because catra was desperate doesn't mean that she had to change her tune, especially since shadow weaver has literally no power over her.
it'd make a lot more sense for her to make a deal with shadow weaver rather than suddenly questioning shadow weaver on why she abused her, then begging her to help.
maybe, if the writers still wanted to continue with the cycle of abuse, the deal could've been a way for catra to be slowly manipulated and throw her off, anyway. because she was once on equal footing with her abusive mother, but now is beneath her for xyz reasons.
writing wise, it just makes no sense for us to be sympathetic to catra in s2 when it's been shown several times that any chance of a less than hostile relationship is impossible between them because they both hate each other.
origin of villainy - now, from catra's perspective, she blames adora and sometimes shadow weaver for her 'downfall', but simultaneously continues to have her own independence and choice to become evil. this is something the show states bluntly, despite still being wishy-washy in s5. catra chose to stay. catra chose to be evil.
the true origin of her choices lie in wanting to be powerful and ruling over the horde as revenge for who looked down on her ( shadow weaver, mainly ).
in fact, she pretty much says so in this line ( in 'Promise', s1 ):
"i don't WANT to leave. what don't you understand about that? i'm not afraid of shadow weaver anymore, and i'm a better force captain than you could've ever been."
catra desires power over love, but relied on adora to get that power through several years of abuse that continues on in their older teen, young adult lives.
what's the first thing that catra does when adora strays?
she electrocutes her, twice, and threatens to do it again.
she portrays it like it was an accident, but her face right after she shocks adora the first time is pure anger. when the moment passes, there's no apologetic look, she looks more 'awkward, if anything.
then when adora tries to get up, she shocks her again and justifies it by saying it was a "reflex". while i think she's full of shit, i do think this line holds at least some truth, as catra's had a clear pattern of putting adora in physical harm when she gets 'out of line' ever since they were kids.
like catra, powder does believe that her source of villainy ( if she even sees it as that, at first ) is also from vi leaving her. however, powder has more reason to believe she was abandoned than catra does.
why?
choice.
catra had a blatant, clear, on the table choice to join the rebellion and leave the horde, have a healthier, happier life, and stay away from shadow weaver. every time adora asks ( 3 times ), she doesn't push catra once she says no, but accepts it, however disappointed she may be, which is a stark contrast to how catra reacts to rejection.
neither vi or powder had the choice of staying together and running away. vi had a reaction that most people would have when powder accidentally killed basically their whole family, but she showed immense regret and walked away to take a breather.
but, as she wasn't able to communicate that, powder saw that as vi leaving and not coming back.
and then silco came in. vi was going to go back, going to try to save powder, but then marcus got involved, knocked her out, and took her to prison.
basically, fate fucked around with them. it was all just bad timing. neither vi or powder could play with the cards they were dealt with.
catra basically said "no, fuck you" and then turned around and victimized herself over and over, while still trying to maintain her own autonomy at the same time.
developing villainy // spiral - powder turning into jinx is tragic because it all started from an accident. because powder was a child that didn't mean to hurt or kill anyone and was taken advantage of in her time of need. because while suffering from psychosis and abandonment, silco preyed on her ( i'm not going to debate this with you, don't start a fight in the comments ).
catra turning into a horde general is visually displayed as devastating in s4, but it's very weak, writing wise, once you take a look at the full picture for all of its amateurish details.
catra participated in all of this willingly. it's very difficult to sympathize with someone who knows what they're doing and doesn't give a damn about who they're hurting.
catra's already had spirals. s1, s2, and s3. if you take off the rose-colored glasses, this gets exhausting and feels more pathetic than anything else.
catra's worst was in s3, not s4. and it was only about shadow weaver for maybe five minutes until it went back to being about her obsession for adora to be her meat shield. you can't really get any worse than destroying the entire universe, engaging in extreme sadism, and killing a monarch all out of spite for one person.
this was, supposedly, her wake-up call season, but catra doesn't change until s5 and the 'wake-up call' is garbage, telling us that she didn't mean any of the things she did or said, she didn't mean to hurt and abuse people, she didn't mean to send entrapta off to beast island, she didn't mean to threaten scorpia multiple times, yada, yada, yada, while also potentially victim-blaming her, and also saying "well, fuck you, it's all your fault lol". it's sloppy.
she had a mental breakdown because scorpia left her? oh no. how sad.
she starts hallucinating scorpia's laugh and thinks she's coming back? oh wow. tragic.
she starts pushing people away, for the millionth time, and victimizing herself again? aww. who woulda thunk it.
all of it falls under "what did you expect?" when you look through the many holes in SPOP's story.
and yet, despite it all, despite the fact that she committed universal genocide, death of a monarch, aggravated assault // attempted murder, attempted murder // suicide, etc., etc...
she's 'redeemed' by a hallucination in a ship that somehow tells her that she was the one who drove adora away, when she fucking knows that already.
jinx is eventually aware of herself and vi, as much as she can be, and continues the path to villainy because she's already gone too far. vi may forgive her, but she's killed a lot of people and is a criminal. not a petty thief, but a murderer.
the show helps us sympathize with jinx, but they don't erase what her actions, they don't erase her crimes, and still embrace writing her as a villain // antagonist that can't and won't go back.
catra has bare minimum sympathy from me. it's terrible that she was abused, but the show doesn't write it well or consistently enough for me to fully care and go "it's really sad that she's become a bad person", but rather "if you died, i'd be thankful".
that's harsh, maybe, but i don't see any other option, except for her being jailed for life, as a satisfying conclusion for her. because i don't care enough to wish a better life for her in canon.
the "you vs. me" problem in SPOP is that catra is constantly pushing this ideology in almost every single situation, even when it is not applicable, and it forces fans to view it the same, if not worse.
it's not specifically about shadow weaver, but more about what can give catra control in whichever situation that can allow her to victimize herself and // or dominate the other party.
and, as a result, to this day, catra is still seen as the biggest victim of the entire cast.
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tenshichan1013 · 2 months
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rapunzel's tangled adventure (season 3) hugs and kisses part VI
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noturlondonboy · 3 months
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Masterlist
Marvel
-Katelena/Bishova
Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova
No More Excuses (series)
If Kate + Kate Makes Two… (miniseries)
One Shots
Drabbles/Headcannons
Wednesday
-Wenclair
Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair
Werewolf. Were… Wednesday? (Miniseries)
One Shots
Arcane
-Caitvi/Violyn
Vi x Caitlyn Kiramman
Please Don’t Leave
Ghosts of You
Before the Fall
One Shots
Carmen Sandiego
-RedCrackle
Carmen Sandiego x Graham Calloway
Happy to be of Service
Truce
One Shots
-Other
Home
One Shots
Tangled the Series
-Cassunzel
Cassandra x Rapunzel
One Shots
-Other
Our Parting Words, Princess
One Shots
Florence Pugh Characters
-Dani Ardor // Midsommar
Movie Reaction Post
-Elizabeth De Burgh // Outlaw King
Movie Reaction Post
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it's crazy the way c//a stans compare the ship to other romantic ships in media and try to find similarities, when c//a is most similar to a bunch of sibling relationships i've seen in media.
let's see:
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these are the duos that c//a remind me most of and they're all siblings, either blood-related or otherwise.
i haven't watched tangled the series but i know that rapunzel and cassandra are shipped by the fandom, despite both of them having the same mother (gothel being rapunzel's adoptive mother and cassandra's actual mother). not to mention, the feud between them is the same as most of the other relationships here - a desperate need for parental validation.
all of these duos have the same dynamic as c//a, with one person being the golden child (azula, rapunzel, claudia and vi) and the other one being the scapegoat (zuko, cassandra, soren and jinx/powder).
the conflict between the two siblings is usually based on the way they were raised and the competition for parental validation. (the only example where this is not exactly the case is with jinx and vi, since jinx doesn't seem to be bothered about being validated by vander, she's more troubled about the idea of being abandoned by vi. which is also eerily similar to the way catra feels about adora.) this is a very common sibling dynamic and it's really weird to apply it to a ship that's supposed to be romantic.
i can understand the idea of feeling inferior to a romantic partner, but in catra's case, she was very clearly bothered by the fact that their mother preferred adora over her. this does not bode well for any kind of romantic chemistry.
apart from the fact that catra and adora was specifically written as siblings, the VAs also describe them as sisters multiple times and the official character sheets say the same thing.
it's ridiculous to still think that they were always meant to be romantic partners when the truth is so obvious. i don't want to assume things about nate or anyone in the crew, but it's more than a bit suspicious and concerning that c//a is not the only example of an incestuous ship in spop.
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builtbybrokenbells · 7 months
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Catch-22 | vi
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Hope creates just as much possibility for disappointment as it does promise.
Masterlist
Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 14k
Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), oral (m!receiving), biting, nipple play, praise, degradation, name calling, lots of dirty talk, slight dom/sub, possessiveness, choking, touch of spit play, touch of breeding kink, edging, orgasm denial, simultaneous orgasm, swearing, mentions of heartbreak, awkwardness, embarrassment, emotional talks, anxiety, mentions of depression, fluff, sorry if I miss any!
so sorry for the long wait, my loves 🤍 i hope this serves as a sufficient apology
The type of anticipation that makes you tap your foot against the ground, pacing and scratching at your head while your heart thuds against your chest, was a feeling you had not felt in a very long time. Just the same as the type of excitement that makes your head spin and your stomach twist with butterflies. It was accompanied with the type of love that fills you up so completely and wholly that you could not possibly imagine fitting anything else in your body. Those three feelings were so abundant inside of you that it was hard to think of anything else, and they were showing themselves in the most violent and loudest of ways. As you took post in the entryway of your home, your family got the brunt of the emotion bleeding out in response to the nervousness flooding your mind. You had snapped at both of your siblings when they distracted you from watching your phone, angry at the prospect of missing a text message, and you had completely ignored your mother when she called out to you, wondering what had gotten into you.
Sam Kiszka was the only person in the world who could elicit such a reaction from you, and you nearly forgot how much power he possessed. Since inviting him over earlier that morning, you had been counting down the seconds until you could see him. The anticipation was so intense that you were not even able to enjoy the coffee date with your sister. As soon as she parked her car in the driveway, you were rushing inside to jump in the shower and make yourself look presentable. After the heartbreak of having him again and forcing yourself to stay away, you had neglected self-care in every aspect. When Jake showed up at your doorstep that morning, you were surprised he even recognized you underneath the messy presentation.
Once you deemed yourself presentable, you had texted Sam and told him that he could come over anytime. Of course, after days of radio silence, he was in his car and driving as soon as the message was sent. It was not a long journey, but it seemed like an eternity as you watched out the front window, waiting to see the familiar face in the driver's seat of the vehicle.
Just when you thought he might have changed his mind and disappointment began to take over, your head snapped up to look out the window at the sound of tires on pavement. When you saw him park beside your car, you held your breath as you waited for him to get out. After what seemed like forever, you saw the familiar head of brown hair flash against the snow in the background. Your heart sped and a smile broke out on your lips. Before he even had the chance to knock, you opened the door to greet him, catching him off guard. His surprise didn’t last for long, and it only took a few seconds for his smile to shine.
“Hi, Rapunzel.” He said, his voice barely breaking through the air. He was anxious, and you could tell; his stature was rigid and his shoulders were not slumped like they usually were. He was terrified of making one move, because he thought it might ruin everything.
“Hi, Sammy.” You stepped back, inviting him inside. “Thanks for coming. I know it was short notice.” You apologized, looking up to meet his eyes. The shine of admiration made you forget all of your earlier fears. It was the same look you’d grown so accustomed to all those years ago, and you could recognize it even if it had been so long since you had seen it. It made you feel like you were the only person in the whole world, and it was just as dangerous after all that time.
“You don’t have to be sorry for anything.” He assured you, stepping inside but holding himself back from reaching out and touching you. “If you want to talk, I’m all ears. I’m really happy you reached out at all, even if you just want to tell me to go fuck myself.” He chuckled, still talking lowly so nobody else could hear the exchange of words.
“No, I definitely didn’t invite you over just to say that. I’m sure I could have said that well enough in a text message.”
“And you have before, so I don’t doubt it.” He grinned. In an instant, the tension disappeared between you two. He was the man you first fell in love with, childish with his jokes but impactful with his words.
“My parents are heading to a dinner party with dad’s boss, and I think Ellie and Brooke are going out to watch a movie… so we have some time alone, to talk about everything.” You clarified the last part, hoping he did not equate alone time to sex. Even as you spoke, you regretted putting that barrier in place at all; sex with Sam was the only thing you were able to think about since you went to dinner, and it was the only thing you truly wanted with him that night.
“Oh, good.” He tried to hide his anxiety. “So we won’t be interrupting anything if you start yelling at me again.” He wanted to pass it off as a joke, but it landed poorly and caused a sinking feeling in your stomach. You had been the worst to him since he walked back in your life, and you felt terrible about it. As badly has he hurt you, you knew that you were doing the same to him.
“No yelling tonight, I promise.” You breathed, reaching out and landing a soft touch on his arm. His gaze travelled down towards your hand, his eyes lingering for a moment as if he was trying to process it. He’d shown up at your door fully expecting you to end things for good. He hadn’t let himself believe that there was a chance, because even he felt he did not deserve another. Now that he was standing before you, with your fingers gently wrapped around his bicep with such sweet intent behind it, his heart began to burst with hope.
Hope was something the two of you had not felt in a long time, yet was effortless when you were standing beside each other.
“Come upstairs with me?” You asked, so quietly that he almost missed it.
“Of course,” he nodded, hanging on to every syllable your tongue had to offer. You let your hand drift downward, taking his hand in your own so carefully that it made it seem as though he was delicate, breakable if you moved too quickly or too harshly. Instantly, as if his body had been waiting for that exact thing, his fingers laced between your own. It was like muscle memory, and the feeling of holding you was the only thing his body wanted to remember.
As you led him around the corner to the stairs, you were immediately intercepted by another body before you could make it from the entryway. “Sam!” Your mom exclaimed, excitedly pulling him into a hug. “I didn’t realize you were coming tonight, dear!”
“Mom-“ you tried to stop her, embarrassed on her behalf.
“I didn’t even make dinner!” She gave you a pointed stare, scolding you with her eyes. You could tell that she was livid that you didn’t tell her he was coming, but you didn’t really care.
“That’s okay,” Sam assured her, giving her a smile.
“I didn’t realize you and y/n were so close again. It’s lovely to have you back around.” She smiled, brushing off her annoyance with you. You fought back an eye roll, allowing her to say her piece before you went upstairs and locked your door, ensuring she could not corner him again.
“Yeah, it’s really nice to be back here. I missed her a lot.” He said, looking over at you through the corner of his eye. You felt your stomach flutter at the words, still amazed that he was thinking of you after so long.
“Oh, she missed you too, dear.” She whispered as if you weren’t standing right next to her.
“Okay, okay,” you chuckled, grabbing Sam’s arm a little tighter as you gave him a gentle nudge towards the stairwell. “As lovely as this reunion is, don’t you have a dinner to get to, mom?”
“Oh, stop it.” She gave a disapproving tsk, waving you off.
“See, dad thinks so too!” You exclaimed, looking to your father who was making his way down the stairs. He was dressed in a nice shirt and dress pants, already looking at his watch. At the sound of your voice, he looked up over the frames of his glasses, trying to piece together the details from a distance.
“Dad thinks what?” He asked, his stare lingering over Sam for a moment too long, as if he was trying to remember why he recognized him. You nearly rolled your eyes at the sight, unable to comprehend how he watched the boy grow up, yet still seemed to blank on his name every time he saw him.
“That it’s time to get going.” You tried again, hoping the awkwardness of the situation would absolve itself.
“Mhm,” he nodded, his eyes still burning into Sam. Now, you were certain he recognized him, but he did not seem happy to see him. Your father had always been much less forgiving than your mother, and this was no different, even if he was still friends with Sam’s parents. “Long time no see, Samuel.” He said, finally reaching the ground floor to join you all.
“It has been, sir.” He nodded, extending his hand out for a handshake. “How’ve you been?” He looked down to Sam’s hand, debating the offer, but eventually deciding that it was not worth the energy to respond. Formalities meant little to him, especially with Sam.
“Hope you’re not here to break her heart again.” He muttered, looking over at your mother. His silent stare gave you the impression that he was not happy you had invited Sam over. Your face turned red, embarrassed at the entire exchange and desperate to get out of it.
“Alright, then.” You cut in, forcing a smile. “Don’t have too much fun tonight. I’ll see you guys in the morning!” You said, wrapping an arm around your mothers shoulder and giving her a half-assed hug. You gave Sam a harder shove towards the stairs, feeling the need to get away from the tension as soon as possible. He responded this time, stepping forward and giving you an easy way out. Your father seemed to want to stop you from leaving, but your mother laid a hand on his shoulder, wordlessly telling him that it was okay. Your dad had a hard time digesting the fact that you were an adult now, which ultimately meant he had a difficulty understanding that he had much less authority than he once did.
You did not stop pushing Sam forward until you were at the top of the stairs, and from there he navigated his way to your bedroom door. Once he was inside, you jumped in behind him and closed the door, flipping the lock. You rested there for a moment, back against the hollow wood as you heaved a heavy sigh. You let your eyes close and your head fall back too, imagining how wonderful it would be when you fully moved out on your own. Sam was watching you, a laugh stuck in his throat as he processed the whole interaction.
“Your dad really doesn’t like me anymore, eh?” He joked, hoping that humour would distract you from whatever you were feeling. You slowly opened one eye, gazing over at him for a moment. Eventually, a smile broke out on your lips and a laugh got stuck between your teeth.
“No, he does not.” You giggled, already feeling better now that you were out of the uncomfortable exchange.
“That’s okay, I don’t think he ever liked me much, anyway.” He chuckled, recalling the memories fondly.
“You were his daughter’s boyfriend, of course he didn’t like you.” You grinned, moving towards your bed and sitting down on the edge. “Besides, I think he always knew you were sneaking in here at night. Was just too uncomfortable to say anything.”
“Fair enough,” he nodded, collapsing in your desk chair. The wheels rolled him back slightly, the chair colliding gently with the computer desk. You watched him for a moment, amazed at how comfortable you both were despite it being so long since you were in the same position. He was the most familiar part of your entire childhood home, and it was endearing having him back without any hesitation or looming fears. “So you wanted to talk?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, pulling your leg up under you, resting your foot in the pit of your knee. Before speaking again, you ran your fingers over the frayed hem of your jeans, thinking of the best way to begin.
“Did I… did I do something wrong the last time we were together? I mean, it was a lot, and definitely not what I was expecting, but did I… fuck it up, somehow?” He asked, needing to clear his head and unable to wait for you to speak first.
“No, Sammy.” You shook your head, saddened that you made him feel that way. “You did everything right, and that was almost… worse.” You tried to explain it, looking down at your fingers knotted in the loose threads of your jeans. “I was hoping you would do something wrong, to make it easy to fall out of love with you so we could move on, but you didn’t. You let me vent, and you took it all in without making me feel bad for it. You said all those sweet words, and we laughed together… it was better than what I hoped it would be, and it scared the shit out of me.”
“Why did it scare you, Princess?” He asked, his voice quiet. He wanted to understand, and he wanted to show you that he wasn’t upset that you had chosen to ignore him. The last few days had been a whirlwind for both of you, and being in each others lives was something to mourn just as much as it was something to celebrate. With the good of being together also came the bad, and with the two of you, bad was abundant. He wanted to start fresh, to build a life on happiness rather than heartbreak, but he was not foolish enough to believe it could be so easy. He’d hurt you too much to think you could throw it all aside and love him again.
“Why didn’t it, is probably the better question.” You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes to gather your thoughts. “I love you, Sam. I’ve loved you since we were little kids, and I loved you through every triumph and every failure. I even loved you while you weren’t with me, and the prospect of loving someone so wholly is absolutely terrifying.” He nodded slowly, absorbing everything you had to say. “I loved you even while you hurt me. While we were sitting there, happy and smiling together again, it felt so good, but the feeling of losing you is always lingering around me. I want to love you again, just like I used to, but it’s hard to stop thinking that it will only be temporary, because temporary is something only we know about. We say forever and a day, and it turns out to be… sometimes and week.” You chuckled, finding your wording stupid. “Every time we try again, it’s nothing like we hoped.”
“I know, Rapunzel.” He said, feeling the same ache spread in his chest. Just because he had been the one causing the separation did not mean he was immune to the effects.
“I spent two years trying to get over you, and now I’m faced with the fact that I will never be over you.” The confession was heavy, but you managed to stay upright even underneath the weight of it. “I thought we’d never be here again, but here we are… again.” You laughed at your inability to phrase your thoughts, and so did he. Even though the conversation was coated with misery, the two of you still felt a certain type of peace that stemmed solely from being with each other. “It’s hard to believe that you’re here, saying all of the things I wanted to hear so badly for so long. I don’t really like to feel hopeful anymore, but I do, now, and it’s scaring me. Right now, and that night, it felt perfect, and I’m terrified of losing it again. My rejection hasn’t been because of a lack of love, but a lack of courage. I don’t think I’m strong enough to go through this again.”
“Baby,” he whispered, shaking his head at your words. He came closer, the scratch of the chair’s plastic wheels against the wooden floor filling the silence hanging in the air. Before he spoke again, his hand reached out, settling on your cheek as his thumb brushed over the warm skin. It sent a tingle down your spine, and it made you crave more. “I don’t want to do that again. I want to do this part again, but not the leaving part. I want you, and two years without you had proven that more than anything else.” He explained, not moving any closer until you gave him explicit permission. “We’re different, now. Not so much that we’re strangers, but enough that we can try again and do better than last time. I’m not that person anymore, y/n. The only person I want to be is the one who gets to love you, not the one who hurts you.”
“I want to believe you, Sam, because I know you’re telling the truth, but my body is screaming at me to stop. Sometimes I think about how fantastic it felt to be loved by you, but most of the time I remember how horrible it felt to be hurt by you.” You kept your eyes closed, knowing you did not have the strength to look him in the eyes. “I want this, and I want it more than anything I’ve ever wanted before, but I don’t know how. I ran because I forgret how it feels to be happy with you, and I’m scared we’ll never get to feel that again.”
“Let me show you, Princess.” He whispered, the smell of his shampoo tangling with the scent of his cologne in a deadly concoction. Although, you believed it was only lethal to you, yet you hadn’t learned your lesson yet. “I don’t want to hurt you. I just want to love you, but you have to want it, too. I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, but if you say the words, I’m yours.”
“Do you really think we can do better this time?” You asked, still trying to keep your eyes closed. You so badly wanted to open them, to admire his face in such close proximity with your own, but you feared that if you did, your heart would stop and your lungs would deflate. “That we can love each other without hurting each other?”
“I know we can, y/n.” He assured you, leaning forward ever so slightly. His forehead was nearly resting on your own, and it was a feeling too addicting for you to resist. You leaned forward, your head resting on his while your eyes remained closed. For a moment, you began to doubt that you were awake. It felt too good to be real, and you thought you would wake from the dream empty handed and miserable. “After all of these years, we had to learn something, right?”
“Fuck, I hope so.” You whispered, your voice so quiet that it barely reached his ears. “If not, we don’t deserve to be together.” You managed a small laugh at the words, to which he joined.
“We do deserve to be together, and we deserve to be happy.” He promised, holding himself back from kissing you. He’d never faced a temptation quite as strong, and he wasn’t sure if he could withstand it much longer. “Do you trust me?”
“Not really,” you chuckled, finding the parallels to the other night too comedic to ignore. His hand on your cheek tightened ever so slightly, his firm grip sending your head spinning and your stomach erupting with butterflies. “I do, Sam.” You admitted, finally giving in to the tugging of your heartstrings. You wanted him, and denying yourself of that was only causing you more pain. Before you’d reuinited, it was easy to convince yourself that the misery of being without him was better than the misery of being with him. Now that he was so close, his nose brushing against your own and his breath searing your skin, you knew that no pain nor pleasure could ever triumph what you felt for him in that moment. You would gladly get your heart broken a million times just to have a moment alone with him like so.
You were so caught up in loving him that you failed to realize that exact thought was what forced you in this position in the first place. You hadn’t grown, nor had you healed from the pain he caused. You were willing to sacrifice yourself all over again at the drop of a dime, and it would inevitably be the reason for your demise. You had always been so determined to love Sam that you forgot to love yourself, and in that moment, you felt yourself falling into the same old trap.
But you couldn’t help but think, maybe it was different. Maybe he changed, and maybe he changed enough that you did not have to adjust the amount of love you had for him. Maybe the problem never had anything to do with you in the first place, and he finally found a way to love you the same as you loved him. After all this time, he had come back to you with a new outlook on life and a newfound sense of self. You wanted to believe he had finally learned how to love, and that he learned to love you enough that you did not have to feel guilty for feeling so strongly for him. You needed to believe it, because it was the only thing giving you enough courage to stay seated before him with his lips hovering over your own.
After years of pain, and years of silence, Sam had finally realized that you were everything to him. It should not have taken so long, nor should he have sacrificed you in the process, but forgiveness was plentiful because you were young, and you were so stupid. You were kids who did not know how to love, falling in love faster and harder than anyone else in the whole world. You were bound to make mistakes, to scrape your knees and bump your heads, because you were learning. Now, you had learned, and you did not have to waste the lesson on someone lesser. You had learned enough to finally love each other the way you always should have, and you didn’t want to run from it any longer.
After all this time, he was still what you wanted, and you knew that no amount of time would ever change that. You were born to love Sam; it was the very thing you were put on the earth to do, and you would be damned if you wasted all of that potential. Being apart was agony, and you had both found that out in the most difficult of ways. The both of you were done being foolish, and you were done making mistakes. If any mistakes were to be made, you knew that they would only be worthwhile if you had each other by your sides.
You could only get over him if you wanted to, and if anything, it was the last thing you wanted to do. You wanted to love Sam until your lungs gave out and the earth separated below you. You wanted to hold his hand until the bitter end, lips locked together while the world burned around you. Not even death could scare you, because you knew that a lifetime spent with him was more than enough. You would succumb to the darkness with hopes that the next lifetime would allow you to love him all over again, and if it did not, you knew you would search the ends of the earth for even a slight glimpse of him once again.
It did not matter who you were before the heartbreak, because you could never be that person again. Who you were now was all that mattered, and you knew that despite the pain, you could still love with every fibre of your being. Love was the only thing you knew how to feel, and even after breaking down all of the bitterness and despair, love was the very thing that caused such cruel things. You were so angry because you loved him so much, and you were so miserable because you missed him more than your heart could handle. All of the nights spent crying were not because your heart was broken, but because you were grieving something you wished you still had. The hurt was because you had so much love with nowhere to go, and now you had a place to put it down for a moment. You had the very thing you craved to love, and you never wanted to let it go ever again.
“I’d like to kiss you, Sam.” You whispered, finally opening your eyes to catch a glimpse of his face. “If that’s okay with you.”
“That is more than okay, princess.” He said, leaning forward off the chair and wrapping his other arm around you. He used his hand to guide your face towards him, your lips meeting in a moment of emotion that was so intense that it took your breath away.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in the locks of his hair to pull him impossibly closer. You needed him more than you could comprehend, and more than you ever cared to admit. Two years without him was equal to a lifetime of torture, and the only time you had ever felt at home was when you were in his arms. Days ago, when you were tangled up in him, awkwardly fitting yourselves into the driver's seat of a car, you had felt more comfortable than you did in years, and it was all because of him. He was what made the world turn, and he was the very thing that put the stars in the sky. Sam was the whole world, and it felt like you were just living in it sometimes, but that was okay; living a life so delicately intertwined with him was the best way to spend your days.
You never wanted the sweet moment to end. His lips on yours was a type of euphoria that you thought you would never feel again. The way his mouth moved against your own, his tongue dancing softly against your lower lip, begging you for more, was almost too much to handle. You needed Sam in every way that was humanly possible, and you feared that the desire would never fully be fulfilled. Your hands in his hair felt right, and his palm cupping your cheek felt familiar. You knew at that moment, you had spent so much time missing something so dearly, yet never knowing exactly what it was. You missed Sam, but it was more than him as a person. You missed the way his body connected with your own, piecing together like a puzzle only the two of you could complete. You missed the softness of his touch paired with the rough calluses of his fingers, drawing you closer to him and holding you in place. You missed the warmth of his skin on your own, and the way your heart beat in time with his.
Sam made you feel complete and without him, you could survive, but never thrive. There would always be something missing, like losing an arm yet certain you could feel your fingers clasp around an object. You missed him so bad that when you closed your eyes, you could trick your heart into believing he was still there. Now that his hands were on you and you were immersed in the comfort of his company, every daydream and fallacy that your brain had conjured was disappointing compared to reality. No figment of your imagination could come close to the feeling of truly being with him, and you would risk a million heartbreaks for just a moment alone with him.
When he pulled away, his breathing was heavy, like he’d just ran a marathon. His heart was erratic in his chest and his lips were swollen from the intensity in which the two of you were kissing. He could not voice his enthusiasm for the moment, but he didn’t have to. You felt it with the same intensity, and you did not need him to speak to know what his eyes were telling you. That was one thing you adored about your relationship with Sam, and no matter how long it had been since you last saw him, you never had to speak your feelings aloud. He understood you better than anyone else in the entire world, and as much as you hated him at times, you would not want anyone else to know you so well.
As you opened your mouth to voice your feelings about the reunion, a soft knock sounded on your door. Your eyebrows furrowed in frustration, and you debated ignoring the disturbance. You wanted to exist within the bubble of happiness you had created with him in your childhood bedroom, so similarly to how it was all of those years ago. For a moment, you wished to be seventeen, waiting patiently as the night engulfed the last few shreds of daylight. You wanted to hear the sound of the pebble against glass, signifying that Sam was outside. You would let him in, sneaking him quietly through the window and snuggle under the blankets together while your family believed you were asleep. You wished for one more youthful, undisturbed night of innocent love. In that moment, it felt so far away.
In another universe, you could exist within that scene for eternity and never have to worry about any external forces.
In this one, you knew it was not the case. The soft knocking continued, and you had to force yourself away from Sam. It felt equivalent to torture, but you mustered out a few weak words, granting entry to the person on the other side of the door. As the knob twisted and the hum of the home’s static air filled your bedroom. You turned to greet them, and Sam cleared his throat, straightening up in the chair and attempting to look presentable.
“Hey, El.” You said, feeling the resentment flee you upon seeing her face. “What’s up?” She was dressed in her winter coat, a hat sitting atop her head and her purse slung over the bulky jacket.
“N-nothing,” she stuttered out, her cheeks tinged red at the sight of Sam in your room. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was here.”
“S’okay, bug.” You promised, giving her a smile. “What’s up?” You asked again, wanting to know what it was that she needed.
“I think Brooke and I are headed out now. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t want to come.”
“Thank you for checking, but I think we’ll stay here.” You assured her, not wanting to feel bad about leaving you out. As much as you loved the idea of having a sibling movie night, you loved the idea of getting Sam’s clothes off more. “Have fun, bug.”
“We will. I’ll see you later.” She smiled, stepping backwards and back out into the hallway. “Bye, Sam.” She said, addressing him separately. As much as he had hurt you in the past, you and Sam together was all she had ever known. The world seemed right when the two of you were existing side by side in your childhood home.
“See ya, bug.” He chuckled, watching as she closed the door behind her. He was grateful that she did not seem to detest him like the rest of your family did (well, excluding your mom), because after everything, he still thought of her as his own sister. Even if the two of you did not end up together, he was certain he always would. Once he was sure she was out of earshot, he looked back to you. In the distance, you heard the slam of the front door, cementing your seclusion.
“So the house is all ours now?” He asked, a small smile tugging on his lips as he raised an eyebrow.
“Seems so.” You shrugged, biting down on the inside of your lip to hold back your own smile. “Come here.” You held out a hand to him, beckoning him to join you on the bed. As soon as you gave the okay, he sprung forward off the chair and wrapped his arms around you. The two of you tumbled back onto the bed, laughing at the simple moment. It was something you missed so badly that came so easily with him. Never had you met another person that made everything seem so easy, and never had you encountered anyone who felt so right.
You shifted underneath him, resting your head against the mound of pillows at the top of your mattress. You gazed up at him, your eyes sparkling with adoration as you tried to familiarize yourself with the newest version of him you had yet to know. “I take it we’re done talking?” He asked, looking down over your face with a smug little grin.
“Very much done with talking.” You agreed, nodding your head. The two of you had done so much talking over the last few weeks that it sickened you to think about it.
“I missed you, princess.” He muttered, his hand finding its way underneath the t-shirt you were wearing. His hands were still cold from the harsh winter wind outside, sending shivers down your spine at the touch. Although, you could not fully accredit it to the chill, because the feeling of his touch alone often sent your body into the same reaction.
“You saw me a few days ago.” You reminded, trying not to focus on the feeling of his skin on your own. It was intoxicating, overwhelming, and it made it hard to think of anything else.
“Yeah, I know.” He said, looking down over your face. A new emotion seemed to appear in his eyes, less sad and more intense. “And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” Your breath caught in your throat, staring up at him with a burning sensation deep in your belly that only he knew how to spark. He noticed your eyes telling him the same old story, the only one in the world that came close to the story his heart loved to retell. You wanted him just as bad as he wanted you, and it was driving him crazy.
His eyes flickered down to your chest, but he did not advance. For a moment, he actually seemed to be frozen in place as he studied the worn logo and familiar fabric. You watched his face, unsure of what seemed to be running through his mind. When he did not move or speak any further, you spoke for him. “What’s wrong, Sam?”
“The shirt,” he muttered, his eyebrows knitting together as he looked back up at your face. “I-is that mine?”
“Y-yeah?” You said, phrasing it more as a question. You looked down, surprised that he recognized the old thing. You’d thrown it on in attempt to make yourself feel better earlier that day, but you never thought to change before he arrived. “Yeah, it is. Is that okay?”
“I thought you threw out all of my old stuff.” He whispered, his eyes still scanning over the logo. “I mean, I didn’t know, but I expected you to.” He explained, phrasing his thoughts better.
“No, I never… I didn’t have the heart to throw anything out.” You confessed, neglecting telling him that every so often you sought out the items for comfort when the world seemed a little too overwhelming.
“I never thought I’d see you wear this again.” He continued, almost laughing at the thought. “You used to wear this all of the time.”
“Yeah, it was my favourite.” You nodded, smiling back at the memory. “Guess some things never change.”
“You’re making it incredibly hard not to fall in love with you again, y/n.” He said, glancing back up at your face. As he did, you both knew that love was unavoidable, because you had never fallen out of love in the first place. Even after years apart, your heart still felt the same, and so did his.
“I… I never said you couldn’t, Sam.” And you were telling the truth; of all the things you had told him over the last few weeks, you had never told him not to fall in love again. Maybe it had slipped your mind, but it was more likely that you wanted him to fall in love again, just so you wouldn’t be the only one still hopeless pining. You wanted him to love you, and you wanted to love him, even while you hated him. You needed it like you needed air, and you needed to hear him say it. It had been two long years of being deprived of the sweetest sound in the whole world. “I can’t be the one to say it first, this time.” You whispered, looking carefully over his expression.
“Is that you giving me permission?” He asked, hoping for a yes. “Because I thought it was a mistake when you said it the other night.”
“It’s never been a mistake, Sam. Loving you is the only thing I know how to do.” You promised. “It’s easier than falling asleep, but I just… I can’t always be the one to say it first, and I don’t want to be the only one who means it, anymore.”
“You were never the only one who meant it.” He said it with so much sincerity that it made your head spin. “I’ve always meant it, Princess, I just didn’t know how to do it properly. Now, I do, and that all I ever want to do.” You swallowed hard, giving him a nod as your heart pounded against your chest.
“Okay.” You agreed, unable to manage any more than that. With a new breath of hope, he smiled down at you.
“I love you, y/n.” He whispered, his hand still wandering underneath your t-shirt.
“I love you, Sam.” Before he could speak again, you reached out and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling him down until his lips met your own. The kiss was so much sweeter than the last, the taste of the proclamation of love still lingering on the tips of your tongues. It was more addicting than the taste of sugar itself, and you wished to savour it until the end of time. His grip on your hip tightened, showcasing his enthusiasm for your advance. As eager as you were to advance further, you were just as content existing in the moment, memorizing the feeling of his lips moving against yours.
It was familiar, welcoming, yet so much different than it once was. The tickle of his facial hair against your chin was something you’d never felt before, but it was just as addicting as the rest of it. You were both more experienced than you used to be, and you hated knowing that it was because of your escapades with other people, but it was paying off for you now. Back then, you were young and stupid, blindly loving each other and uncertain on how to do it correctly. Now, you were grown, using your life experience to come back to each other and do it over again, but right this time. His hand on you felt so good, and if you had to admit, better than it used to. You weren’t sure if it was because you missed him so much, or if it was because the youthful awkwardness seemed to flee him.
The kiss was messy, desperate for something you were already promised to have. That was one thing that never fled you nor Sam; your desperation for each other, and your desire to have each other, even if it had only been days since you saw each other. There was a flame burning inside both of you that only you could ignite, and anyone else who had ever tried gave up after a useless, futile attempt. He knew you so well, and no distance or amount of time could change it. He knew exactly where to touch you to make you melt, and he knew exactly what to do to make you feel good. He needed no direction, no instruction, and remembered it as if he’d spent the last two years studying it even in your absence.
When he pulled away, hearts were dancing in your eyes as smiles blossomed on your cheeks. The joy seemed to aid you in forgetting the pain that was so devastating. After so much heartbreak, you expected it to feel less beautiful and more melancholic, but kissing him was just as meaningful as it was in the beginning. “Let me take this off, beautiful.” He said, slipping his hand further up your shirt. You leaned forward, allowing him to pull it over your head and toss it to the floor. “As good as you look in my clothes, you look even better out of them.”
“Charming, as always.” You rolled your eyes as he unclipped your bra, throwing it in the same direction as your shirt.
“Some things never change.” He grinned. The sight filled you with a sense of adoration for him. It was the same goofy smile that you’d fallen so deeply for when you were young, and the sight of it pointed in your direction again nearly made you weak in the knees.
“And I’m happy that it hasn’t.” You reached out, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head. It got tangled up in his hair, and as you tried to pull it off, you noticed it was stuck on his head. You let out a laugh, loosening your grip on the fabric and allowing him to take it off himself. He couldn’t help but laugh too, reaching up and taking it off. Once it was was on the floor with the rest of the clothes, you reached up and brushed the hair from his face. “Hi, baby.” You breathed, the soft brown of his eyes nearly pulling you into a trance.
“Hi, beautiful.” He smiled, letting his hand trail over your bare stomach. The light tickle made goosebumps prickle your skin, and you couldn’t help but feel the need to kiss him again.
As if he felt the desire just as strongly, he leaned down and captured you in a soft kiss. He laid gently atop of you, careful not to put his entire weight on you. The feeling of his body against yours was intoxicating, the warmth from his skin wrapping you in a blanket of comfort. His lips did not linger there for long, but trailed down to your jaw and eventually landed on your neck. You reached up, tangling your fingers in his hair as his lips explored the sensitive skin on your neck. A breathy moan pushed past your lips as his tongue found the sweet spot just under your ear. The sound encouraged him further, and he took it upon himself to suck gentle marks into the skin, easy to cover with your hair but enough to remind you of him when he was not with you.
He moved further down, his lips ghosting over your collarbone as he raised his hand to your breast, cupping it in his hand and squeezing it slightly. As his teeth grazed over the skin, he let his thumb brush against your nipple, the sensation causing it to harden under his touch. You let out a shaky breath, trying your best to keep the feeling to yourself, but the pleasure from the small touch was plaguing you. You had never felt a sensation so euphoric from anyone else, and you never wanted to go without it again.
“Does that feel good, Princess?” He hummed, looking up at you with a heavy lidded stare. You could see the desire clouding his vision. Moments before, he was concerned with everything and anything; the love he had for you, the joy he felt being back in your company, and whether or not the world would allow you to be together again. Now, he was concerned with one thing and one thing only: catching up on all of the time he missed out on.
“So good, Sammy.” You uttered the words in a hurry, hoping that you could urge him to keep going. You needed him so badly and you were unsure if you could wait any longer. As he listened to the desperation in your voice, he debated leaving you there to suffer for a moment, just to make the release so much more pleasant. As he lowered his mouth to your chest, taking your other nipple into his mouth and running his tongue over it, he knew it would be too hard for him to do such a thing. The night spent tangled up in each other in the driver's seat of his car was good, but it was nothing more than a messy reunion to hold you over until you had the chance for something better. It bridged the gap between dire need and desperate want, but it did not last for very long. With every minute that passed, it seemed like you were one step closer to death without him.
As his tongue ran over the sensitive nub, your back arched in response. Your fingers tightened in his hair as you felt your breath catch in your throat. You could feel him smile against you before he pulled away, looking up at you through dark lashes. “Needy, are we?” He teased, letting his fingers trail down your bare stomach. The light tickle made you want to shy away, but your love for him wanted to invite him in for more. Everything about him was conflicting, yet it only ever made you fall deeper in love.
“I am,” you breathed, hoping the desperation in your eyes would urge him to continue. “Need you so bad, Sammy.” You pleaded, pushing your bottom lip out slightly. The pout seemed to strike a nerve in him as his hand settled on the waistband of your leggings.
“I want to hear how bad you want me.” He said, dipping his fingers below the elastic. The sudden movement seemed to make your brain short circuit, but after a few moments you managed to speak your mind.
“Please, baby. I need you… missed you so much.” You whispered, lifting your hips off the bed while maintaining eye contact. He used the opportunity to pull the leggings down over your ass, moving away for a moment to pull them from your body completely. As you looked down, you realized he’d been swift enough to remove the thong you were wearing, too.
“What do you want me to do, baby?” He pried, tossing the clothes to the side. His eyes raked over your body, taking in every detail of the exposed skin. His mouth was watering at the sight of you, and part of him wished he had waited to have you again. As much as he enjoyed your date night in the car, seeing you so openly was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was too limiting, too restricting, and he was only now beginning to realize he had the luxury of having you however he wanted.
“Whatever you want, Sammy. M’all yours, baby. You know that.” You rushed out, uncaring that the statement was soaked in desperation, which had always been an unflattering look on you. To him, he thought it was the hottest thing in the whole world. “Just need you to touch me, please.”
“You know that I’ll always give you what you want, sweetheart.” He crooned, settling on his stomach between your legs. He pressed a soft kiss to the inside of your thigh, sending jolts of electricity through your whole body. “Especially when you ask so nicely.” He hooked his arms under your thighs, pulling you down towards him a little further. A gasp fell from your lips at the sudden movement. Before you could say anything else, he leaned forward, his tongue connecting with your core and instantly turning you into a mess.
“Fuck,” you groaned, letting your head fall back on the pillows. It had been so long since you’d felt the pleasure of his mouth, and it was immediately overwhelming. You prayed that your need wasn’t astonishingly obvious, because to you, it felt as though it was written all over you. The men you’d found yourself entangled with in university were unfulfilling and disappointing, and it had been so long since anyone had gone down on you, let alone done it well.
He let his tongue run through your folds, getting a taste of the arousal he was causing. His movements were slow, calculated and careful. He did not want to miss a single drop, and it was obvious in his approach. After a moment, he let out a hum of satisfaction, showcasing his own enthusiasm for the moment. Your fingers twisted delicately around the strands of his hair, the slight tugging and pulling giving him encouragement. He let his tongue circle around your clit, the light motion causing your stomach to twist into a knot. Your eyebrows furrowed as your heart pounded against your chest, and you worried that despite his intent to start slow, you were already embarrassingly close.
Before you had time to recover from the initial shock of his tongue on you, he began to pick up his pace. You uttered a slur of curses, feeling the words get strangled in your throat. The sensation was intense, and he’d barely even begun. Although it had been a long time since you’d had good sex, you never really had much of a tolerance for Sam’s unruly charm. He’d always known how to pry an orgasm from you without even trying, and he could send you into a climax merely by looking at you the right way. You weren’t sure if it was because he was so good at sex or if it was just because you were in love with him. Perhaps, it was a mix of both.
You let out a shaky breath, looking down between your legs and admiring the sight of him. He was working at you with intent, almost as if he’d spent the last two years imagining himself in this exact position. In some strange way, it was true. Although he had missed you for more than sex, between your legs was a place where he felt most at home. The taste of you on his tongue and your thighs squeezing his head was a feeling he could never seem to forget. The sounds falling from your lips paired with your fingers tangled in his hair was euphoric, and his name hanging so sweetly in the air was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He felt that if he could not see you in such a state, he was wasting his life. He could search for the same thing in a million places and thousands of women, but he was certain nobody would ever hold a candle to you.
His tongue dipped down towards your entrance, giving your aching clit a break from the constant stimulation. You managed to catch your breath for a moment, the pulsing pleasure easing for a second as he changed his focus. Just when you thought you thought he might be generous and take it easy on you, he pulled back for just long enough to bring his fingers to his lips. You watched him as he let a trail of spit fall from his lips onto his hand. He caught your eye for a moment, but did not say a word. A familiar feeling ignited in the pit of your stomach as you noticed his lust blown pupils. He did not need to say a word; from his expression alone you could tell he was enjoying it just as much, if not more than you were.
He brought his mouth back to you at the same time as he added his fingers. Your back arched up off the mattress in reaction to the sensation, the stopping and staring making the pleasure return with a whole new force.
“Fuck, Sam.” You hissed, the sensation overtaking every other feeling in your body. “Feels so fucking good.” The second part of the statement came out strained as he curled his fingers as he pumped them into you, hitting the spot only he knew how to find. He did not respond, but seemed to focus on making his movements even more prescise. His tongue circling your clit paired with the feeling of his fingers inside of you was throwing you into a state of euphoria you weren’t sure you had ever felt before. You needed it, and you knew that you could not wait any longer.
One of your hands released the hold on his hair, dropping to the sheets to grab a fistful of the fabric. You were so close to the edge, the pleasure completely engulfing you and throwing you into a whole other dimension. Your breathing was ragged, your chest rising and falling rapidly to try and catch up on lost air. Your skin was glistening with sweat and your head was spinning. All of the above usually seemed unpleasant, but when it was paired with the waves pleasure coursing through your body, all the way from your head to the very tips of your toes, it was addicting. The whole scene felt otherworldly, like something you had been dreaming of every night yet could not remember in the morning. It was something you longed for, even if you did not realize you were actually searching for it. You looked for Sam in every face you passed, and you hoped to find him in the touch of another, but now that you had him, you knew that there was not another person in the world that could ever make you feel such a way. Nobody could compete with him, because he existed within his own league.
He could feel the pressure building within you; it was so powerful that he was bearing the weight on his own shoulders. He could feel the trembling of your legs, the intensity of your hold on him increasing with every breath. He wanted to give it to you, to feel your body give in to the temptation, but there was another part of him that waited to push it as far as he could, just so the moment wouldn’t end. He spent a few moments debating his feelings on the matter all whilst pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
A particularly sharp intake of breath let him know that you were pushing the point of no return. In a split second decision, he pulled his mouth away entirely and showed his fingers to a stop. The only thing you could process was the fact that the steadily building pleasure had suddenly disappeared, and the loss was so detrimental that you felt the need to grieve it. “Sam,” you choked out his name, a whine stuck in your throat as you lifted your head up from the pillows. You looked down at him, holding his gaze with as much confidence as you could. He gave you a smirk, moving his thumb over your clit as he began a slow pace.
“What’s wrong, Princess?” He asked, acting as if he was oblivious to the reason why you were upset.
“Why did you stop?” You asked, your cheeks flushed with emotion. He gave a dry chuckle, applying pressure to his thumb. The feeling caused your muscles in your legs to twitch and your breath catch in your throat.
“‘Cause you look so pretty when you beg for it.”
“You want to hear how bad I need you, Sammy?” Your voice dropped as you spoke, willing to give him exactly what he wanted in exchange for what you wanted. “You want to hear how good you make me feel? How nobody else can make me feel this good?” He watched your face, his cheeks reddening at the sound of your words and his chest heaving with every breath. He wasn’t sure where this side of you was coming from; two years ago, you never would have spoken to him in such a way. He realized quickly that two years can change a lot more than he ever imagined it could. “Is that what you want, baby?”
“That’s exactly what I want, gorgeous.” He affirmed his intention, beginning to pump his fingers into you again. “Tell me how badly you want to get fucked.” The obscenity rolling so sweetly off of his tongue made the ache between your legs grow stronger, and you could not deny him of the request.
“I missed you so much, Sam.” You choked out, feeling his fingers curl against your g-spot, sending your skin tingling with pleasure. “I-I need you to make me feel good. I need it so bad. Nobody else could do it right.”
“Nobody else knew how to take care of you, hmm?” He hummed, his eyes drifting down at his fingers buried in your cunt. The sight seemed to send him into a feral state, his eyes darkening and his jaw tensing.
“I used to think of you, the way you’d take care of me, how well you filled me…” you trailed off, feeling the delirium return as the orgasm began to creep up on you once again.
“You thought of me while someone else was fucking you?” He couldn’t hide the amusement in his eyes, not liking the idea of someone else’s hands on you, but loving the knowledge that not even that could make you forget about him. “Such a little whore, aren’t you? I don’t remember you being so bad.” He was leaning closer to you with every word he spoke, not even realizing the gravitational pull you had on him. “You’re all mine, aren’t you? You just can’t help yourself…” He asked, trailing off near the end of his sentence. His words were quiet, yet incredibly impactful. Your walls clenched around his fingers, the possessive claim sending you in a downspiral.
“I’m all yours, Sam.” You agreed, your eyes squeezing shut as your body began to tremble. You were bracing yourself for the storm, and he was doing his best to coax you through it.
“That’s it, Princess. Doing so good for me.” He crooned, leaning his head down and letting his tongue take over for his thumb. A moan slipped past your lips, so obscene that it was nearly pornographic. You could feel him smile against you, but you were too far gone to chastise him for his cockiness. The muscles in your abdomen tightened, and your legs locked in place.
“Sam,” you warned, your hips rising from the bed to meet his mouth in reaction to the overwhelming sensation. “M’gonna cum.” You forced out, your eyebrows knitting together as your lips parted. The sound falling from your lips filled the room, painting the walls with yet another memory of Sam’s company.
You needed it. No, you needed him. He was the only thing that mattered, just like always, and it felt like you would die without it. He was the only person in the world who could drive you to such insanity, and the only one who could bring you back.
Just when you thought you could not hold on any longer, he pulled away from you again. This time, instead of protesting with your words, a guttural cry tore through your chest as the frustration took hold. He looked up at your face, knowing exactly what he was doing, yet unable to feel any remorse for doing so. Seeing you so worked up was his favourite part of the whole process, and he’d been deprived of it for far too long. You gazed up at him, tears of anger pooling in your eyes as you tried to silently express your distaste for his actions.
“Come on, gorgeous.” He tried to comfort you, pulling his hand away, too. “I have to have my fun, too. You just look so pretty when you’re desperate for me to fuck you.”
“You’re an asshole.” You forced out through clenched teeth, uncaring of the consequences of your words. You did not believe he’d be such a tease after such a loving conversation, but you knew you had your hopes a bit too high. Sam always had a knack for making you suffer, even if it wasn’t always intentional. The fact that you were in the position now was just a comfort to you, knowing that not too much had changed after all. Part of you was fearful it would not be the same as it once was, but as you looked over his face, it was the same old Sam that once sat between your legs, just older and hopefully, a little bit wiser.
“Get up,” he ordered, seemingly ignoring the insult you’d thrown his way.
“You could ask a little nicer, especially after that.” You grumbled, challenging him only slightly.
“I’m not asking, sweetheart.” He said, looking down at you with a stern expression. His words were calm, but his tone was strong, and you knew you should not test your luck. Even if you were annoyed with him, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of arousal at the statement. “Don’t make me say it again.”
“S-sorry, Sammy.” You stuttered, sitting up in response to his newest demand.
“On your hands and knees,” he said, unbuttoning his pants and kicking them to the side. You watched for a second, amazed by the sight and excited by the idea of being able to have him again. When he ultimately threw his boxers in the same pile of clothes on the floor, he did not seem pleased that you hadn’t changed positions yet. When he noticed your eyes were not focused on his face, a small smirk grew on his lips. “Or would you rather just get on your knees?” He offered the alternative. You looked up to meet his gaze, wordlessly sliding from the bed and on to the floor. He was too shocked to respond, expecting at least some kind of argument or protest. He didn’t have time to recover from the surprise, because you were already eye-level with his cock and reaching out for him.
You wrapped your hand around him, making sure to continue looking up at his face as you brought your mouth forward and landed your lips on the tip of his dick. He let out a shallow sigh, his hair falling forward into his face as he looked down at you, awaiting your next move. You parted your lips slightly, running your tongue over the sensitive skin. The taste of his pre-cum lingered on your tongue, making your mouth water and your desire grow stronger. The look in his eye only made your cunt ache with even more intensity, and even as you willed yourself to tease him as much as he’d done to you, your desire to keep going was growing stronger by the second.
You opened your mouth a little wider, taking him in, but only slightly. You suctioned your lips around his head as you continued to move your tongue over him. He let out a hiss of pleasure, taking in a long breath as his eyes fluttered closed. You let some saliva accumulate on your tongue before moving your head down further, taking him in a few more inches. You could feel him throbbing, aching for more but allowing you to take the lead. It had been so long since he felt something so heavenly, and he was willing to take whatever you allowed him to have. His lack of protest for your slow pace made your annoyance grow weaker, and now you were only determined to make him feel the same as he made you feel. You took in a long breath and closed your eyes, moving your head down further until you felt him hit the back of your throat. You focused on not gagging, the sensation foreign, yet not as bad as you remembered it. The control was in your hands, making the situation all the more comfortable.
When the feeling grew familiar, you began bobbing your head at a pace that was pleasurable, yet not too much for you to handle. “Fuck, Princess.” He muttered, opening his eyes just enough to catch sight of your face. He watched as you bobbed your head down on him, already noticing the sensation grow stronger. You were not the only one with a hair-trigger, and that was exactly why he did not have the heart to chastise you for it earlier. When it came to you, any kind of stamina in the bedroom seemed just out of reach. “Looks so good with my cock down your throat.”
You hummed in response, the vibration making the pleasure all the more intense. His head fell backwards as a long string of curses fell from his lips. He did not remember you as someone who was so vocal, nor one who took the ropes for any type of action, yet the newest version of you seemed to send him straight to the brink of insanity. You looked up, looking at the exposed columns of his neck, tense from the strain of his head tiled back so far. As he let out a groan, his adams apple bobbed with the sound, making the sight all the more beautiful. You sped slightly, now only concerned with his pleasure and in turn, hearing the beautiful sounds that were falling from his lips.
After taking note of his reaction moments before, you decided to try your luck. As you felt him reach the back of your throat again, you let out a muffled moan. You weren’t expecting the sound to cause a gag to rise in your throat, and when the muscles tightened around him, he took in a sharp breath. You felt his cock twitch in your mouth, letting you know you were affecting him much more than you thought you would. He pulled back from you, his chest heaving with his breaths and his eyes crazed with lust. He reached out, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger as he guided your head towards to look at him. You were still trying to catch your breath and your eyes were watering, but he thought you were the most beautiful thing in the whole world, and nothing could change that. He wiped away the trail of spit still lingering on your lips, giving you a soft smile.
“Stand up for me, beautiful.” This time, you did exactly has he asked, rising slowly to your feet. When you were steady, he took a step towards you, backing you up until your legs hit the mattress. He gave you a smirk as he leaned down, capturing you in a kiss that was just as heated as the rest of the evening. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as his chest pressed into your own. You could feel his heart against your chest, and he could feel yours against his own. It seemed like they were in perfect harmony, and the universe was willing you two to become one once again.
His hand drifted down your side, his fingers tickling the soft skin as he moved until eventually, his hold remained on the curve of your back. He guided you down on the mattress, gently and securely, just so you knew he would never let you fall. When you were down on the mattress, he anchored his hands on your hips and pulled them to the edge of the bed. Then, he reached over and grabbed a pillow from the stack of them, moving it beside your head. You lifted your neck, allowing him to slip it underneath. He smiled down at you for a moment, the animalistic attraction seeming to wear off for a moment as he looked down upon you. For a moment, he just felt the need to admire you and the beauty that always seemed to take his breath away.
“Comfy?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Very.” You assured him, giggling at his expression. With a smile, he ran a gentle hand down your bare thigh, stopping at your knee to give him a leverage point. “I want to say it again.” You confessed, caught up in the moment of sweetness amidst the chaos.
“You can say whatever you want, Princess.” He assured you, lifting your leg and anchoring it around him. He leaned forward slightly, resting himself on your entrance. You took in a sharp breath, already distracted by the idea of what was to come next. One thing you loved about your childhood bedroom was that your bed, although uncomfortable by times, was the perfect height for Sam to do exactly what he was doing then. Using his hand on your thigh, he pulled you towards him as he pushed into you. There was a collective sigh of relief shared between the two of you, and then, as if you could not hold it back any longer, you spoke the words your heart was begging you to share.
“I love you, Sam.”
“I love you, princess.” He crooned, but the sweetness did not last too long. He withdrew his hips and slammed himself back into you as the pet name was rolling off of his tongue. You let out a sharp moan, a painful type of pleasure shooting through you. You closed your eyes as he began at a steady pace, but he was having none of it. “Eyes on me,” he ordered, catching your attention. You did just that; your eyes opened and fell upon his face, drinking in the stern nature of his expression. “That’s it.” He praised you for listening so well, studying every detail of your pleasure ridden expression. As he did, his hips sped again, and his grip on your leg tightened. “Look at you, taking me so well.” You thought that you might come undone from the sound of his words alone, but you managed to keep yourself under control. You let out a shaky breath, laced delicately with a moan that was begging to be heard. His hair was hanging down over his face, something that was new to you, yet undeniably attractive. The long hair suited him, and you wished he would have grown it so long much sooner.
“Fuck, Sam.” You groaned, reaching out and licking your fingers around his wrist.
“Does that feel good, baby?” He asked, finding your growing desperation intoxicating. You nodded, your lips parted as another moan forced its way from your chest. You caught his eyes, the glossy stare seeming to shake him to his core. He let out a shaky sigh, closing his eyes for a moment and shaking his head slightly. “I’m not going to last for very long if you keep fucking looking at me like that.” He muttered, taking in a long breath as his hips continued to move at a bruising pace. With every re-entry, the tip of his cock brushed perfectly against your g-spot, sending a wave of pleasure through your entire body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, and the orgasm seemed to be pulsing underneath your skin stronger than even your own heartbeat.
“You want me to stop looking at you?” You teased, grinning up at him.
“Fuck no.” He said, resembling more of a growl. He reached down, letting his thumb drift over your cheek for a moment before trailing it across your bottom lip. As if on instinct, you parted your lips slightly, catching him off guard as you brought the digit into your mouth. Your closed your lips around his thumb, settling your tongue on the pad of his finger, looking up at him through your lashes. For a moment, it seemed as if his brain short-circuited. His hips stuttered and his breath caught in his throat as he watched you. You suctioned your cheeks and moved your head back far enough that his thumb slipped back out of your mouth with a slight popping noise.
He clenched his jaw, realizing that the woman underneath him was much different than the one he had so long ago, but in every good way possible. With his sudden realization, he was eager to explore your new found confidence even further. He dropped his hand around your neck, his fingers loosely anchoring around the sides and settling just atop your jugular. When you did not recoil from the new position, he took it upon himself to tighten his grip. As he did so, his hips did not speed, but each thrust became more forceful. The strength at which he was moving sent the bed frame knocking into the wall with every move of his hips. As his fingers tightened further, you could feel your heartbeat fill your ears as your head began to swim with an airy feeling. The wooziness that accompanied the newest position made the knot in your belly tighten, and the pleasure to reach a new peak.
You wanted to cry out, to make a sound and let him know how good he was making you feel, but you could not. A burning feeling began to rise in your chest as his palm pressed against your trachea, but you could not find a complaint about it. As your head began to spin and your lungs felt as if they were on fire, you realized that even death at the hands of Sam Kiszka would be the most pleasant experience of your entire existence.
He began to notice the far away look in your eye, and he loosened his hold, allowing you to fill your lungs with a breath of air. You coughed slightly, the sudden rush of oxygen seeming painful after being deprived. His fingers gently massaged the area his hand had been moments before, worried that he might have hurt you. When you finally caught your breath and the obscenities began falling from your lips again, he knew you were more than alright.
“That’s it, baby.” He muttered, his voice hoarse from the sheer amount of carnal desire burning within him. “That’s my girl.”
The possessive claim once again made you weak, and you could not help but clench around him, drawing him in further with hopes of keeping him there forever. His eyes trailed downwards, settling intently on the point in which your hips met his. He seemed mesmerized as he watched himself fuck you, and it was driving him closer to the edge with every thrust of his hips. He knew that if you did not cum soon, he might get there before you, and that was one thing he refused to do.
“Are you gonna cum for me, beautiful?” He asked, reaching between your legs and settling his thumb on your clit. He began a slow circular motion, watching your expression in hopes of a reaction. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down hard enough that you were certain you drew blood.
“Are you going to let me this time?” You forced out, your breathing ragged and your forehead glistening with sweat. It was a terrible task trying to hold yourself back, but you did not want to get your hopes up again only for it to be ripped away from you.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Princess.” He smirked, applying a bit more pressure with his thumb. Although he did intend to allow you to cum, it was fun to tease you. When you rolled your eyes, he knew that he could not bear to push you any further. “Come on. Be good for me, baby.” He said, his words permissive although not outright. As you caught his eye, you knew his intentions were genuine, and you felt the defensive nature of your actions begin to fade. “There you go.” He hummed, making sure to keep his thumb in time with the thrust of his hips. Before you knew it, your entire body was overtaken by the euphoria once again, and this time, there was no going back.
“Oh god, Sam.” You breathed, realizing that he had no intent to stop. After being pushed to the edge so many times and pulled back so harshly, it seemed like the orgasm was taking over with an intensity you had never felt before. You opened your mouth to utter a warning, but there was no time to say the words aloud; the climax hit you hard, starting at your core and quickly spreading all the way throughout your body. It made your muscles tense and your legs shake, and it knocked the air from your lungs as your mind swirled with nothing but desire for the man between your legs. He thought for a moment that he would be able to hold himself back, just for long enough to give you a second orgasm to apologize for his relentless teasing, but at the sight of your expression twisted into pleasure, his own orgasm began to take hold.
“Look at me,” he snapped, his harshness completely unintentional. He was panicking, needing the eye contact for one last moment of innocent intimacy before it was all over. “Want you to look at me while I fill you, angel.” Your eyes snapped open, searching for his own in with a new found sense of urgency. The words twisted your stomach into a tighter knot, and his gaze pushed you into a whole new wave of pleasure.
“Fuck, Sammy.” You whined, reaching out for him. As the pleasure took hold for him, he leaned forward into your arms. His hips stuttered, his movements quickly becoming sloppy as his cock twitched inside of you. He tried his best not to collapse into your arms as he spilled his release into you, a long slur of curses falling from his lips as your nails dug into the skin of his back. Your hips moved upwards to meet his as you tried to ride out the last bit of euphoria the moment had to offer.
Just like that, the two of you had fallen back into old and incredibly reckless habits, and neither of you seemed to have a shred of remorse about it.
He heaved a sigh, both of you sweaty and exhausted from the excitement. His hair was sticking to his face and his eyes were begging him to sleep, but he would not let himself give in to the temptation. He was enjoying the closeness with you too much to give it up just yet. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close to you. His heartbeat was rapid against his chest, and you could feel it coursing through you, too. The reuinion was plastered all over the room; the bedsheets tainted with your inability to stay away from each other, and the walls dripping with the obscenities and vulgarity of the night. Even when you were both long gone and forgot the fateful night, you knew the memory would remain indefinitely.
“How was that, princess?” He asked, placing soft kisses to your collarbone. The ghost of your orgasm was still lingering, and every time he pressed his lips to your skin, it sent jolts of electricity through your whole body.
“It was so good, baby.” You breathed, keeping your eyes closed as you tried to steady your heartbeat. He was silent for a moment, fearful that if he moved too fast, you would disappear before his very eyes. You could sense the tension in the air, knowing he wanted to speak but he was holding himself back. “What’s wrong, Sammy?” You asked, running your fingers through his hair as you pushed it away from his face.
“You’re… you’re not going to disappear again, are you?” He asked, lifting his head from your chest to glance up at your face. The words struck you hard, making you feel like you were drowning in regret. You felt so guilty for ignoring him after the last time you were together, but you had really thought that it was for the best. Now that he was with you, laying in your arms and asking if you were going to stay, you knew that this was for the best. Despite all of the pain, you and Sam were meant to be together, and the world would stop at nothing to ensure that it would happen.
“No, baby.” You shook your head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. I promise… I want to stay. I want you to stay.”
“It’s okay if you don’t, but I just… I’d rather know, you know?” He said, uncertainty flashing in his eyes.
“I do, Sam.” You assured him. “More than anything else in the world.”
“Okay,” he said, giving you a smile. He believed you, and he wanted just the same. “So… we’ll try again? You want to try again?”
“I want to try again.” You whispered, feeling yourself melting into the warm brown of his eyes. It felt sometimes that if you looked to long, you would get lost in them and never find your way back. “I want to try harder than we ever have.”
“Me too, princess.” He sighed, placing a gentle kiss to your chest. “We can do it. I know we can.”
“Yeah,” you nodded, smiling weakly at him. “We can.”
You weren’t sure if you believed your own words, but by god did you hope that you were right. It took everything in you to find the strength to try again, and you weren’t sure if you had enough strength left to face the world if he were to leave. As you looked down over his face, it didn’t seem to matter; when Sam was with you, the entire world seemed right. For the first time in two years, things seemed okay. There was no cloud of misery hanging over your head, nor any sorrow lingering in your bones. You were happy, and it felt like the weight was finally lifted off your shoulders. All of the love that had been lying dormant for so long finally had a place to live, and you could finally rest. Loving Sam was all you had ever known how to do, and it was all you ever wanted to do. It was the most beautiful feeling in the world, and you hoped that it would stay forever.
In a single night, he had managed to give you the gift of hope, which was something you had not felt in a very long time. Now, you could only pray that this time, he really had no intentions to take it away, again. Hope was a fantastic thing to feel, but it was also a loss so harrowing that it made the whole world seem bleak, and you were already exhausted from walking an earth that only ever seemed barren and empty.
TAGLIST: @itsafullmoon @freefallthoughts @lightsofthe-living-gvf @heckingfrick @sagekiszka @clairesjointshurt @thetroublegetssoloud71 @torniturntomyarrow @dannythedog @jordie-gvf @lallisonl @peaceloveunitygvf @gretavangirlie
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tangledbea · 3 months
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Re : the anon about Eugene showing Rapunzel love more than Rapunzel shows him
I think some of that is like you said, Rapunzel has SO much on her plate right. Everything is on her shoulders at the beginning and the show is a lot of Eugene trying to show her that it’s not.
But maybe some of it might also be that they have different love languages?
Oh, it's absolutely that, too.
Rapunzel was raised in a household where you don't show love by showing it. You give gifts, you compliment (though Gothel was insincere, Rapunzel never is), and Rapunzel herself was raised in acts of service. She showed Gothel she loved her by healing her, by keeping house and cooking so Gothel had a nice place to come back to, and, most importantly, by not ever leaving. As soon as Rapunzel did that, she thought she was a horrible daughter, in those words. But what does she do with those acts of service vis-a-vis Eugene? She gives up her freedom for him, she goes to war for him, she uses dangerous spells for him. She acts of service the hell out of her love for him.
Eugene was raised in an orphanage where he didn't have much to give, and then lived as Flynn, where he was completely insincere all the time. But for Rapunzel, he gives her gifts (the ring he bought to apologize about the theft and lies), he's sincere and open with her when he is with very few other people (and not nearly as often).
But know what love language they share? Time Spent Together. The two are practically joined at the hip. It's healthy as hell that they don't have to be, that the have interests and other people to hang out with outside of each other, but the honestly spend as much time as they can in each other's company, and that's how they sincerely show their love constantly.
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star-elysiam · 5 months
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oie diva, então, vim aqui trazer talvez um debate. vc postou a foto do Enzo na praia e tals e comentou que o bicho depila mesmo, talvez tudo, mas 🧐👆 venho contestar pq ele tem, literalmente, o suvaco mais cabeludo que eu já vi, sem brincadeira. na foto, já dá pra pedir pra rapunzel jogar as tranças e ele joga o cabelo do suvaco pq escapa por debaixo do braço dele, mesmo com o braço abaixado 💇‍♀️💇‍♀️💇‍♀️kkkkkkkkkkkk se ele depila, é só o peito. uma 100% no pipiu de vez em quando, quase nunca, talvez naquela foto q vc postou sim só pq tá indo pra praia (não julgo, pois só tiro tudo do subterrâneo quando preciso usar biquíni tbm), mas no cotidiano é no máximo uma aparadinha pra não crescer demais (pq ele é mt cabeludo mesmo) e olhe lá, pq esse suvaco cabelo aponta para ambiguidades&contradições na depilação do rapaz
oq vc acha? adoro que discordem pois esquenta o debate, mas se concordar eu amo pq sou dengosa. obg pela atenção
A Rapunzel KKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK
Mas é real mesmo, o suvaco é tão cabeludo que dá pra fazer uma trança e pular corda com ela
Mas sobre o resto do corpo eu fico em dúvida real, sabe? Pq tenho a barba dele como exemplo, que por algumas fotos da pra ver que é super rala e falhada, parece até um monte de pentelho na cara do que barba (desculpa enzo)
Porém como sou uma bicha curiosa, vou observar mais
E concordo, deve depilar lá embaixo de vez em quando, pra não tropeçar na mata atlântica particular dele mas o resto, não sei
Não sei se é pq o pelo é fino, que da impressão que não tem. Tipo, tem umas fotos dele com os cambitos de fora e parece lisinho
Estou confusa anon, socorro
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