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#i really really really need to put my thoughts on text
asidian · 20 hours
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Alright. It is time. Buckle up.
Why you should be watching Dead Boy Detectives: the targeted-specifically-at my-readers edition.
Meet the leads, our two ghost boys:
Edwin Payne: Fussy, repressed intellectual type from the Edwardian era. Exceedingly gay for his partner and best friend. Tortured in hell for seventy years on a technicality because he was ritually sacrificed as a prank gone wrong. Endearingly awful at people and dealing with emotions or his own wants.
Charles Rowland: Impulsive, people-pleasing wildcard from the 80s. Heart eyes 24/7 at his best friend but has zero self-awareness. Badly abused by his asshole of a father. Beaten to death because he saved a kid from bullies. Endearingly awful at sorting his own emotions or talking about his problems.
Some highlights:
/slaps hood you can fit so much trauma in these two
Both leads get sobbing breakdowns that happen on screen. The actors are incredible at crying
Both leads get much-needed hugs
The absolute devotion between the two of them. The shared history that lives in their dialogue and how they work together like people who have been each other's Most Important Person for literal decades
I mean, I'm talking in-canon Orpheus and Eurydice reference level of devotion here
The protective way Charles puts himself physically between Edwin and damn near every threat in the show
They're just fun together. Their interactions and banter and how they work as a team is a delight
Their shared plot arc literally involves them learning to talk to each other and communicate more so that they can be there for one another about their respective issues
The symbolism. God. They are metaphorically and literally one another's light in the darkness
But what about stuff that isn't the main duo? Just wait, there's more:
This show is unabashedly, unapologetically queer. It's there in the text and the subtext. The whole show lives and breathes it
So many good, complex, well-written female characters. The Bechdel test gets blown straight out of the water in episode one and they never look back. Headstrong amnesiac psychic learning to be a better person! Quirky meta commentary matchmaker! Cynical lesbian butcher! Delightfully sadistic witch! They are all amazing.
[audience voice] But I'm here for the hurt/comfort. How can I whump ghosts? Worry not, my friends. Canon has you covered. Not only are there ways, there are ways that happen on-screen. The hurt/comfort and rescue are also on-screen. Yes, it is amazing
Absolute chaos, really cool supernatural cases and creatures, a surprising amount of humor, charming writing, and a cast that absolutely nails it on the acting and chemistry
There is an extremely suggestive trickster type who is also the king of cats. He's a cat in human form. He hits on Edwin nonstop. Charles gets blisteringly jealous
All of the leads have well-thought-through, fully developed, emotional character arcs. They're all messy and flawed and sometimes lash out in their pain, but at turns can be incredibly supportive and kind and loyal
A character who is a crow who is also a boy, who is tortured by his witch/creator and also is crushing hard on one of the leads
There are so many incredible details in the setting, costume choices, prop decisions, etc. that you only catch after you know what it's laying the groundwork for. The level of care that went into this show is phenomenal
It's only eight episodes. The time investment barrier to entry could not possibly be lower
Anyway, tl;dr, if any of this sounds appealing to you, you should give this show a watch.
Dead Boy Detectives is well worth your time. It's easily my favorite show in years.
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marvelstan0905 · 2 days
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"I really need someone"
Kenji Sato X [afab]reader (One Shot)
Best Friend AU
TW : Emi cameo/ screaming/ fainting/ swearing/ panicking/ fluffy/ slight angst/ petnames/ slight flirting/crude teasing/ mixed POV
The man had not been answering my calls and texts. I get it. He's busy..baseball and his own personal problems got him occupied but he was my best friend and he always..as in ALWAYS texted or notified me if he couldn't answer his phone. It had been days. Not even Mina was responding. I couldn't even get a chance to see him at his games because he left as quickly as he came. I decided to take things into my own hands.
I unlocked the door to Kenji's house and got inside. I thanked God he gave me the key and code to his house. I peeped inside his room and bathroom "Kenji?" I called out worried. I went to the kitchen and saw parenting books, spilled coffee and energy drink cans sprawled out on the table. I was confused however by the books.."What the?" I whispered with furrowed brows. My train of thought was stopped as I felt a rumble from downstairs.
I stopped moving and turned to the elevator that led to the basement. This was probably the only place Kenji didn't allow me to go in his house when I came over..but I mean..I am concerned for him. What if he's dead? Or hurt downstairs..I shook my head erasing any bad or irrational thoughts.
"Kenji..please forgive me" I whispered before getting into the elevator. As I pressed the button to the basement..I noticed that not even Mina had greeted at me at the door. Surely her systems couldn't be down. The elevator descended and I stepped out. I looked up and I was met with the most shocking sight..Ultraman holding a pink colored kaiju. Mina was off to the side playing some kid's cartoon. My mouth dropped and my eyes widened. That's when Ultraman noticed me and looked down at me.
"Oh my god! Y/N! W-What are you doing here? Mina!" Ultraman stammered quickly and put the kaiju baby into a containment unit. The kaiju didn't seem to fall asleep as she clawed at the walls of the unit. Ultraman's hand reached over and I screamed in ultimate terror. I stumbled to the elevator but didn't even manage a step as black spots clouded my vision and I passed out. Kenji was quick to transform back into his human self and caught his best friend.
"Kenji, it appears Y/N has entered the house" Mina reported. Kenji looked at Mina exasperated.
"No shit! Oh my god! Shit. How the hell am I gonna explain this?" Kenji murmured whiles gently patting his best friend's cheeks to wake her up.
"You could be honest because she's already seen Emi and Ultraman...in your basement" Mina responded whiles hovering over to Emi's containment unit and showing her games of Kenji's to keep her occupied. Kenji picked up his best friend and laid her on the couch. Kicking the drawer underneath his couch, Kenji grabbed a cool can of coconut water and pressed it against the cheek of his best friend. About 10 minutes passed before I fluttered my eyes open and groaned.
"Is this heaven?" I murmured as Kenji glanced down at me and sighed in relief. I blinked trying to adjust to the light.
"No, sweetcheeks..this hell." Kenji chuckled softly. I sighed and sat up rubbing my temples.
"Of course if you're here" I quipped. Kenji clicked his tongue and handed me a bottle of water. I looked around and my eyes widened when I saw a kaiju in a containment unit. I dropped the bottle"K-Kaiju.." I whispered fearfully as the memories from before I passed hit me like a freight train. Heavy and loaded.
"Calm down. Wait..let me explain okay? Just give me a few minutes" Kenji said softly whiles standing in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. His blue mauve eyes held desperation. I looked from him to the containment unit. I nodded. I took a good look at him, he had deep eye bags and he looked disheveled as if he hadn't slept in days. Kenji took a deep breath to calm his nerves before taking ahold of my hands.
"I am Ultraman. That Kaiju you saw over there is Emi. She's an infant kaiju. I found her when the KDF killed her mom, okay? I have to take care of her. I'm the only hope she has. This is why I haven't been answering my phone. I've been juggling alot. More than I can handle. I thought I could do it.."Kenji trailed off, rambling a little and a few tears fell down his cheeks. My eyes widened, I've never seen Kenji cry...let alone be deeply vulnerable like this. I put aside my shock as I gently squeezed his hands and wiped his cheeks softly. "I-I know it's alot to take in..I totally get it if you don't wanna be friends anymore...because you know this is alot"
I took a deep breath to properly take a second to process this. I gave Kenji a hug, considering he really needed one. "I'm not gonna leave. You might be an asshole but you're my asshole" I spoke softly. Kenji pinched me but hugged me tighter. "We..uh..still have alot to talk about but I'll help you out, dummy. You should've called me. You know..You're not an island"
"You know you're really mean when you're trying to console me but I appreciate it. T-Thank you..I promise I'll answer everything." Kenji murmured whiles hiding his head into my chest.
"You better, you owe a half dozen lunch dates. You're real shameless you know..those are my boobs" I whispered whiles hugging him and gently petting his head. Kenji pinched me again. I looked at the kaiju baby in the containment unit. Taking a good look at her..she seemed friendly and she was actually adorable.
"J-Just let me enjoy some peace" Kenji groaned "Thanks, sweetcheeks. It means alot though. I..I really need someone right now"
"I'll be your someone"
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Love Game 1
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: Your fiance suggests incorporating roleplay in the bedroom to keep the spark alive, but playing pretend turns out to be all too real.
Characters: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen
Note: I did this because I could.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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'You ready?' 
A tingle accompanies the text. Your stomach tosses and turns at the thought. You think you're ready. As ready as you can be. It's all so new to you. 
You hover your finger over the automated reply suggested by the OS. You tap on 'yes', too shaky to type it yourself. You're not scared, just nervous. 
When Andy first brought up the idea, you laughed. It was so absurd. Silly really. 
You remember how the look he gave you was like hands on your throat. The hurt with an edge of agitation strangled away your laughter. You apologised and asked him if you heard him right. Then he explained and it made sense. Kind of. 
'If we're going to get married, we need to keep the flame alive,' your fiance said as you stirred the contents of a pan with a spatula. 'Trust me, I know. A dead bedroom can kill everything else.' 
You frown at the memory. You hate when he mentions his first wife. He's engaged to you now. You're not her. Besides, things are pretty good. That's why you laughed. There was nothing bland to spice up. At least, you hadn't thought so. 
'You know the plan?' He texts. Always thorough, if not persistent. 
'I think' you type as you squeeze your phone tighter then think better of the reply. You backspace. Remember the plan. 'Yes, sir.' 
You blow out between your lip and put the phone on the counter. You look in the mirror and pick up the bottle of moisturizer, smearing it over your face. Half the day you've spent prepping yourself. Everything has to be perfect. Andy is always certain of that. 
You snap the cap shut and peruse the rest of the basket. He thought of everything. New soaps, wax, perfume, and all sorts of goodies. You didn't need it all but he insisted. 
Everything about Andy Barber is pristine and tidy. His house not least of his carefully curated existence. So it is that you often feel as if you don't quite fit it, even when he tells you the opposite. 
Your phone vibes and you look down at the screen as the notification flashes, 'good girl.' 
Your lashes bat and you giggle thinly. You've never done anything like this. You struggle to get a precise grip on the tweezers and have to still your hand with the other. This is wild! 
You rub your thighs together and strike hotter the flame of your anticipation. As much as the whole thing has you uncertain, it has you alight. You steady yourself and lean into the mirror, just a few stray hairs. It shouldn't matter, it'll be dark, right? 
Your phone goes again. You pull back and glance down. You trade the tweezers for the cell and press your lips together. 
'Did you find your surprise?' 
You look up and search your expression. Surprise? You lower your brow and peer around the bathroom. There's more? 
'Bedroom' his next message comes bluntly. 
You chew your lip and leave the mirror behind. You go down to the main bedroom and ease through the door. The room still smells of his cologne. The whole place is drenched in him, meanwhile most people wouldn't guess at a glance that you lived there too. 
You see it on the bed. White silk and lace. The lingerie is sheer enough that you may as well forego it. You near and touch the scalloped hem. You know it must be expensive, funny how so little fabric can be worth so much. 
You step back and take a picture. You send it to Andy and wait, your thumb between your teeth. He replies. 
'Put it on.' 
His blunt orders add to the thrum coursing through you already. It seems he's already in character. You need to get yourself together and do your part. 
'Yes, sir.' 
You set the phone on the corner of the mattress and trade your bathroom for the lingerie. The thong, while high-waisted has you on full display. Not ass, no crotch, just lace straps that trim your thighs and bottom. The top is an open teddy with cups that do nothing to censor your pert nipples. Just wearing it sends a thrill through you. 
You take the phone and return to the bathroom. You use the full-length mirror to frame your reflection with the lens. You snap a few pics and sift through for the best one. You hesitate before you tap the little arrow. You're a mess of paranoia and lust; you shouldn't send photos like this and yet you can't help yourself. 
You wait for his reply. Wait and wait and wait. You have to stop yourself from staring at the phone, knowing that your hyperfocus will only slow time. You cross to the counter and place the phone near the edge. 
Your attention is drawn to the sheer fabric acrosd your chest. You can't suppress the moan that leaks from you. You can feel how excited you already are but your eagerness might just get in the way of the whole thing. 
You sigh and the buzz draws you back from your anxiety. You read the message, almost disappointed. 
'Midnight.' 
That's it. That's all he has to say. Was the pic not good enough? Is this part of the roleplay? You don't know. 
As ever, Andy has you guessing at what he really wants. Hopefully this time, you get it right. 
💕
10:47pm. You’re wired. You’re trying to settle down. You have freshly laundered bedding and a glass of wine; all the perfect ingredients to lull you to sleep. That’s all you need to do. Fall asleep. 
Yet knowing what’s coming won’t let your mind stop. Ugh, your heart is racing again. You need to finish the wine. You push yourself up and have another gulp. You lay in the glow of your phone, a Get Ready With Me playing on low volume. Usually this all works. 
Not tonight. You’re too buzzy. Too frazzled. Too eager! 
You empty the glass and lay back down. You were generous, filling the wide body of the glass to the halfway point. At least two regular glasses worth.  
Your head meets the pillow and you start to feel it. The acidic burn spreads through your veins and you sink into the soft sheets. You turn your head to watch the small screen of your phone, vision slowly hazing as the contoured woman applies her lip liner expertly. 
Your eyelids cling and start to itch. Your heady is swishy, your tummy too, and your limbs weaken. It’s working. You try not to think too much about it, not wanting to counteract the alcohol with your self-awareness. 
You roll onto your side and drift into a half-conscious daze. Your brain swirls and your blood burns hot. Your breathing slows and piques only when your rouse, glancing at your phone as a new video plays. The time stamps into your vision; 11:25. 
You curl your shoulders inward, more tired than anxious now, and slip back into your tipsy stupour. The screen is just a glow on the other side of your eyelids and the audio a scratch in your ears. It fades beneath the even ebb and flow of your quiet snores. 
As the light fades out and the sound dwindles to nothing but the still of night, you wake again. Your eyes open to the darkness. You’re alone. Confused. 
You feel around on the bed for your phone. It must have timed out or the battery died. You don’t find it. Instead, your wrist is trapped in a strong grip and dragged away from the duvet. You gasp and remember what’s going on. It’s starting. He’s there. 
“Ah, ah,” comes the grizzled tut as your other arm is seized and your hands are brought together above your head. 
Andy’s shadowy figure straddles you, pinning you to the mattress as you squirm. You let out a squeak and he hushes you. You still and arch your back, trying to push your chest up. 
“Please, who are you?” You whine, doing your best to play into the scenario. “Please, my husband will be home soon--” 
He shushes you again, holding your wrists together as he leans back to reach behind him. You can hardly see through the dark and your foggy tipsiness. The curtains have been drawn, obscuring the room to fuzzy lines and pulsing shadows. 
He hooks something around your arm; a leather cuff, then secures your other wrist. He keeps your arms up and reaches behind the mattress. He attaches the wring between the cuffs to some unseen hook. Where did that come from? 
You writhe as he stares down at you. You squint back at him, trying to see through the dim. Something feels off. He’s so quiet and forceful. It must be part of the roleplay but it just doesn’t feel like him. He feels like a stranger. 
He backs off of you, peeling back the duvet to drop it on the floor. He prowls along the foot of the bed and you kick your feet, whimpering as you strain against the cuffs. You keep forgetting it’s a game. You have to play your part too. 
“Please, don’t hurt me,” you beg. 
There’s no answer. Andy continues to pace, back and forth, back and forth. He's really transformed. Where he would usually have his hands on his hips, he has them folded behind him, shoulders squared, his steps lighter. 
He stops and lets out a willowy rasp. He unzips his jacket, slipping off the sleeves slowly, deliberately. You lift your head as you try to see him clearer. Did he change? He must have dressed up too. 
Then he pulls his shirt over his head and huffs out again, a growl catching in his throat. He drops the shirt with his jacket and the duvet. Andy never leaves a garment outside the closet or hamper but this isn’t Andy, remember? This is an intruder! And you’re the helpless housewife. 
You nearly moan at the thought. Something about it is so hot even if it makes you a bit squidgy too. You tug again on your wrists as you hear his zipper slice through the din. 
“Please--” you beg. 
He kicks the footboard and the loud bang silences you. You can’t help the pathetic noise that trickles from your tongue and you swallow. He’s doing good. It feels so real. 
He continues to undress. Your heartbeat picks up as you wait for him to really start. He bends to pick something up then climbs over the footboard onto the bed. For a moment, you wince. His silhouette is slimmer. Or seems so. The difference is so minuscule it might be your wine-laced brain playing tricks. 
He catches your kicking feet and pushes your legs wide. He trails his hands up them, a piece of fabric tickling beneath his left palm, and firmly hooks them around him as he moves between them. He stops at your pelvis, his rigid length hovering over you. He stretches the black cloth across your eyes, blotting out what little sight you have. He knots the band behind your head and you gasp. 
He traces along your cheeks and your jawline, as if he can see you through the dark, as if he’s learning you by touch. His fingertips dance down your throat and across your shoulders. You feel fragile as he toys with the strap of the lingerie and feels along the flimsy cups, circling his thumbs around your nipples as they pebble beneath the sheer silk. 
He gropes you and growls. The noise is guttural and raw. It flutters into your core and has you twitching. He pushes his knees against your cunt, moving so the friction flurries in your clit. You babble and raise your chest, hungry for his touch. 
He flicks your nipples and his hands crawl onward, down your torso, doting on the soft flesh of your stomach, and framing your hips as he draws back on his knees. He snarls and bends over you, bowing as he grips you tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you whine as you feel his hot breath against your folds. 
He nuzzles along the edges of the panties, growling as he does, squeezing your harder, then at once, buries his nose in your cunt. He wiggles his head and drags the tip of his nose up over your clit and swipes his tongue up to further set you aflame. You moan and curve your back, planting your heels as you urge him on. 
He delves into you, lapping and licking, suckling and swirling. His arm reaches up and he kneads your chest, blindly pulling the lingerie under one tis. He pinches as you cry out and he rolls your clit between his teeth. You puff out shallow breaths, swept up in the sensations. 
This is so different. Unlike he’s ever been before. He’s almost feral in how he touches you, how he feels you, how it seems he wants to consume you. There’s something else different, something strange you can’t place.  
Did he shave? You can’t tell, It must be the wine. His cheeks feel bare against your thighs and yet you swear you feel that scratchy tickle against your cunt. You don’t think about it; it’s all too much to focus. 
You squeal as you cum, spasming into his face as he drinks up your orgasm. You’re heaving and hollow as he doesn’t let up. He laps at you until you’re begging him to stop. Until you’re quaking, nearly sobbing in overwrought pleasure. Until you have a second, a third, and a fourth. 
Your slickness smears over his face and across your thighs. As he parts, his breath is humid, and you can smell the sweet scent of your release. You shiver as he raises himself up and the bed jostles. He snarls and slaps your thighs, squeezing until you whimper. 
He shifts and slides a hand under your leg. He flips you onto your stomach so your arms twist and your face is buried in the pillow. You pant into the linen as he smacks your ass with both hands and growls as he fondles you. You murmur as his touch sends tendrils down your legs and up your back. 
He grips your hips once more and raises your ass. Oh my god. It’s only a few times you’ve done it like this, often Andy prefers you on your back. He says he likes to see you.  
He pulls you back against him, his length resting between your cheeks as he bends over you. He inhales the scent of your hair and snarls against your crown. He reaches down to feel between your legs, spreading your swollen cunt as he angles his hips. 
His tip slips down and he uses his fingertips to guide it to your entrance. You’re so wet he slips right in. He sounds just as surprised as he gasps. He sinks into your limit and you whine. He retracts his arm, hooking it around your neck, and thrusts. 
You squeal as he buries himself even deeper. He does it again; harder. It hurts. You croak and press your chin down into his arm. You feel a ripple of fear. His chest feels... bare. Andy has that trim of fur that you like to play with. Maybe he got rid of it? For the roleplay? 
He snaps his hips again, staying deep before slowly rearing back. He pauses, then bucks again. The impact of his pelvis on your ass is painful and he’s hitting your cervix. 
“Ow, Andy--” 
“Quiet,” he grits in a deep sneer and brings his other hand up to smother your mouth. 
He leans his weight on you, your neck and shoulders aching from the angle of your spine. He dips into you again, again, again. Each pause between grows shorter as he tilts into a full rut. The entire bed shakes with his motion. 
You squeeze your eyes shut and curl your fingers into your palms, the cuffs slowing your circulation. You huff into his hand as he continues his rampant fucking, skin slapping, bones aching. Harder, deeper, faster, until you’re delirious. 
“What’s your husband going to think when he comes home to his wife being fucked like a slut?” He rasps and nibbles your ear, “huh? How’s he gonna compare to this, baby? Your husband can’t fuck like me can he?”  
He taunts and you cringe. You don’t like it anymore. It’s not fun. You don’t want him to be this man. To be this rough and rude. You want him to be Andy. You try to say his name again but only taste the salt of his palm. 
“Keep your mouth shut, slut,” he sinks into his limit and stays there, his voice echoing in your head. His tone is just... off. “I’m not done with you yet.” 
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kurokens · 3 days
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Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry | Satosugu
anime/manga: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru & geto suguru
words: 1.5k
pronouns: they/them
request: none
notes: part 3 of In The Middle, my first satosugu piece. trying stg new by including some texts in the middle but idk if i'm a fan, just didn't know how to convey it better than this way.. don't judge the quality of the text this is an app i used to use back in 2020 and i didn't want to try and find a new one. also thank u to 🪼 anon, ur message helped me get out of writer block, this one for u!!
not proof read
song rec: Everything I Love Will Make Me Cry - Movning
genre: hurt comfort, fluff, slowburn, a little bit angsty, poly?
warnings: satosugu are in a loving relationship, misunderstanding, pinning, a lot of pinning on satosugu's end, reader is so oblivious, insecure and self conscious reader
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Taking all of your clothes and getting out of the apartment was probably one of the hardest thing you ever had to do in your life. Especially what forced you to do it. But what else could you do? You no longer were welcomed there, and you knew it, the longer you stayed and the worse it would hurt. So you took advantage of both of your roomates being gone for the day to pack your essentials, write a note and get out of there. Not without your vision blurred by your tears. You didn't really plan your next moves but it felt like an evidence to just go and crash at Shoko's, such an evidence that you refused to do it. After all she was just as close with these two as you were, well, as you used to, so it would be quite an awkward position for her, and you refused to impose this on her. That's how you found yourself at the door of an old friend of yours, looking like a kicked puppy. "What are you doing looking like a sad little puppy?" Namami said after opening the door.
"Please don't, I already told you, and I don't want to cry any more than I've already did." You replied in a whine, to which he just gave a roll of his eyes, stepping aside to let you in.
"Haibara is in the kitchen, he is making some food for you. He thought you could use a warm meal right now." The blonde man told you, leading you towards the kitchen.
"M'not really hungry though..." You sighed, following him without another complaint.
"Ah! Don't say that, I've poured my soul into this meal. You better eat and appreciate it!!" Haibara exclaimed, popping his head through the door after hearing you two coming his way. "I made your favourite!"
"It smells wonderful Yū, I'll eat it, just for you. And enjoy it, that's for sure." You giggled, seeing his enthusiam and the effort he put into this, pulling the younger boy in your arms.
"You can stay here as long as you need. And I promise I won't say a word to Satoru and Suguru about your whereabouts." Nanami chimed in, a soft smile on his face at your interactions.
"Haha, you don't have to worry about that. They're probably not gonna look for me at all, on the contrary." You whispered the last part, tears starting to well up again.
"Just, don't rush yourself to find a new place okay? You're more than welcomed to stay there. And I'm sure all of this must be a big misunderstanding." He gently answered.
"Thank you so much. It means a lot, even though I do doubt your last words." Was all you could muster as an answer.
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To say the lovers were frantic was an understatement, they need to find you, they needed to tell you what they felt and how all of this was a misunderstanding. There was no way they were about to lose you over this, no not like this, not before you knew what you meant to them. It couldn't end with you thinking they hated you, lord, it was so far from the truth. They would never forgive themselves.
"Try calling them!!" Satoru shouted, pacing around your empty room.
"I already tried Toru, they're not answering, I go straight to voicemail." Suguru replied, his heart sinking at the potential meaning of his calls going straight to voicemail.
"No, no, no... You have to try again, please Sugu, try again!" The white-haired man begged, his voice breaking as the tears made their way up. "Sugu, this can't be it. Sugu we need to find them, this can't be it, please this can't be it."
All Suguru could do was take his lover into his arms, letting him break down and cry on his shoulders. Words stuck in his throat, as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. He never felt this helpless.
"Maybe..." He began slowly, "Maybe we should try and text them. So they can read it whenever they feel like it and not feel pressured to answer right away."
"Let's do that." Satoru grundgingly said, his pout never leaving his face.
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Both of them let out a breath seeing your answer, it wasn't really positive one but at least they weren't blocked, and right now it meant already a lot for them. They would give you all the time in the world you needed, they were ready to wait an eternity if it meant that you would come back to them in the end. Well, at least Suguru was ready for that, Satoru was a whole other story. "M'gonna die Sugu. M'gonna disappear from the face of the earth if I don't see them soon." The youngest whined, holding onto his lover for dear life. "Why don't we call Shoko? I'm sure they're with her. Even better, we could just go there and tell them how this is just a misunderstanding, and we can tell them how much we love them and how we want them in our space forever, and never out of it."
"Baby, we have to wait and you know it. We don't know what they heard, and why they're so hurt. It made them leave our place Toru, it's not something we can fix that easily. We probably lost their trust, and winning it back won't be an easy task. That's why we can't force this on them. We have to be patient, and wait for them to come to us, no matter how much it hurts." The dark-haired man explained, not fully convinced by his own words, but one of them had to be rational in order to mess this up further.
"I know you're right, but knowing we hurt them and that we can't make it better is so hard. I never wanted to hurt them in the slightest, and now we drove them away. At least, I'm glad I have you in all of this." Satoru confessed, hiding even further in the crook of his lover's neck, hoping this wouldn't last too long.
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You couldn't help the small smile that made its way on your face after reading your conversation, but it didn't stay for long. After all, you heard what you heard, and there was no way you could have gotten it wrong in any way, it was pretty clear who they were talking about, so this all misunderstanding thing seemed like a lie to you. But why would they lie about that? What was the point in hiding the truth now that you knew about it? Wouldn't it be easier for them now to get rid of you? Not having to go through the burden of telling you directly to leave and everything?
You were confused, a part of you wanted to believe they were telling the truth, that all of this was a misunderstanding, and your best friends didn't hate you. But at the same time, another part was scared because what if they really did hate you, and they were doing all this just to be able to humiliate you even further, and have the satisfaction to tell you in your face how much they wanted you out of their life. You were kind of used to be the odd one in friend groups, and ultimately being left out, so why would it be different this time?
"You realy should hear them out." A voice suddenly said, making you jump.
"Gosh Kento you scared me." You squeaked, hand on your chest in a futile try to appease your beating heart.
"I'm sorry, but really. I'm not the biggest fan of these two, and I think that's why you decided to come here, but I know they would never hurt you." Namami chuckled softly, sitting down next to you.
"Well, look at that, for once in your life you're wrong." You tearfully laughed.
"I've been wrong a lot of times in my life, but not on that. I promise you, they would never intentionally hurt you, especially not with their words." Your blonde-haired friend affirmed, and the look in his eyes told you there was no convincing him otherwise, almost as if he knew something you didn't.
"I don't know, I need time, I don't think I can face them yet." You explained, curling into a ball next to him.
"Take all the time you need." He simply replied, petting your hair as if to comfort the crying child you were. And for now it's all you needed, some time and a comforting friend, you would deal with all of this later, maybe.
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oki here it is!! sorry im not quite satisfied with this part, i wanted to make it longer and have them maybe meet to talk it out but i also didn't know if it was the mood of this part or not... also, yes, don't worry there will be a part 4!
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Vows
Thomas Michael Kinard, you are the man of my dreams... No, Buck thought, too cheesy, and he scribbled that out. "Tommy, you are the coolest person I've ever met..." Nope, too casual, Buck decided, scratching that line out too. "Tommy, you complete me..." No, that wasn't quite right either. Buck's mind wandered, "Tommy, your body rocks my world, and I can't wait to get you into bed tonight." He grinned at the thought, but quickly dismissed it. True, but definitely not appropriate for his vows.
Buck sighed, frustration mounting. Why was this so difficult? He knew, without a doubt, how much he loved Tommy, so why couldn't he put those feelings into words on paper?
Buck and Tommy had decided that they wanted to write their own vows, because really, there was nothing traditional about them as a couple. Buck tapped his pen against the dining table, contemplating his next words. "Tommy, when I met you, I thought I was straight, but then you kissed me and my entire world shifted." Not a bad start, Buck decided, nodding his head in approval.
As he leaned back in his chair, his mind wandered to Tommy. Was he also struggling to find the right words to express their love? Buck couldn't help but smile at the thought of Tommy, perhaps pacing back and forth in his living room, running his hands through his hair as he searched for the perfect way to express his feelings.
****
"Maddie, why is this so difficult? I know what I want to say, but I just can't get it from my brain to the paper!" Tommy groaned, frustration evident in his voice.
Maddie smiled reassuringly, "Well, I'm happy to help. What do you have so far?"
Tommy hesitated for a moment before sliding the notebook over to her. Maddie began reading aloud, "Evan, I have never met someone as unbelievably sexy as you. I am constantly thinking of what I want to do to you and fantasizing about that thing you do with your tongue..."
Tommy made a choking noise and quickly ripped the notebook from Maddie's hands, his face turning a deep shade of red. "Those ones are private," he mumbled, embarrassment radiating off him.
"Well, I would hope so!" Maddie exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Wine... I need wine. I have to forget that ever happened. He's my brother, Tommy!" Maddie exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously as if trying to physically dislodge the memory. Tommy had never felt more humiliated in his life, wishing the ground would just swallow him whole.
Sensing his discomfort, Maddie suggested, "Let's pause the vows for a minute." She grabbed a bottle of red wine and poured a generous glass for each of them. "How's the guest list coming along? RSVPs were supposed to be returned by Thursday, right?"
Tommy nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "We got the last one we had been waiting on yesterday, Evan's friend TK and his husband Carlos. So now we have a firm final number, and we can complete the seating chart."
Maddie's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Can you believe you're getting married next week?" she squealed, her earlier discomfort forgotten.
Tommy really couldn't believe it. Before Evan, he didn't think marriage was even a possibility for him and had resigned himself to being whatever the male version of a spinster was. But here he was, just days away from marrying the love of his life.
**** Buck stared at the crumpled pieces of paper scattered across the dining table, feeling utterly defeated. He needed help, but somehow, he was the only member of the fire family without a shift today. Pulling out his phone, he opened up the 118 group text. It was the next best thing, Buck thought.
He quickly typed out a message: "SOS! I need help with my vows."
Chim was the first to respond, "Not sure how much help I'll be, bro. I got married in a hospital."
Eddie chimed in, "I'm not exactly the poster child for healthy relationships."
"That's the understatement of the century," Buck muttered under his breath.
Feeling frustrated, Buck sent another message, "Seriously? No one is willing to help? Everything I've come up with is literal garbage."
Hen's reply came through, "I've got you, Buckaroo. Happy to help."
Bobby's message followed shortly after, "You know I'd love to help you, kid. Why don't you head down to the station for family dinner, and we can brainstorm."
Buck heaved a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. He grabbed his jacket (well, really Tommy's jacket) and headed out the door, eager to get some much-needed assistance from his chosen family.
****
Maddie sipped her wine, observing Tommy as he animatedly discussed the wedding details. She had let him procrastinate long enough, allowing him to steer the conversation away from the vows. They had covered everything from the guest list to the centerpieces (a beautiful combination of dahlias and calla lilies), the attire (tailored suits, navy for Tommy and maroon for Evan), the menu (a delectable array of Italian dishes), and the cake (a towering three-layer masterpiece with smooth buttercream and tangy raspberry filling).
Maddie knew it was time for Tommy to focus on his vows. She set her wine glass down and turned to him. "Tommy, let's get back to your vows. I want you to close your eyes and think about specific moments with Evan. Focus on how you felt in those moments – the warmth, the laughter, the comfort. Those are the feelings you want to capture."
Tommy closed his eyes, letting memories flood his mind. Evan's laughter, his gentle touch, the quiet moments they shared.
"Now," Maddie said softly, "open your eyes and write. Don't worry about making it perfect. Just let the words flow from your heart."
Tommy opened his eyes, picked up his pen, and began to write. The words poured out, filling the page with heartfelt emotions. Maddie watched, smiling proudly as Tommy found his voice.
****
Buck sat at the firehouse table, his head in his hands as he struggled with the task of writing his vows. The weight of the task seemed to bear down on him, and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed. Well, you could always go traditional," Eddie suggested with a shrug.
Buck shot him a look, making it clear that wasn't an option. "What do I saaay, Cap?" he whined, turning to Bobby.
Bobby looked at Buck with a fatherly expression. "I think the problem, Buck, is that you're trying to find the perfect words, and there's no such thing. Do you know how much Tommy loves you?"
Buck nodded.
"And does Tommy know how much you love him?" Bobby asked.
Another nod.
"Then that's enough," Bobby said firmly. "Tommy knows your heart, Buck. Regardless of what you say, you show him how much you love him every day."
As Bobby's words sank in, Buck felt a weight lift from his shoulders. He sat up straighter, his mind clearer and his purpose focused. The love he shared with Tommy was the foundation, and the vows were simply a way to express that love.
With renewed determination, Buck grabbed a pen and paper, ready to pour his heart out in a way that truly reflected his feelings for Tommy.
****
The remaining days before the wedding passed in a blur, and soon the big day arrived. As the music started, Jee-Yun walked down the aisle where Bobby and Tommy were standing. She spread her petals before running over and jumping into her daddy's lap.
Maddie grasped Buck's hand, feeling it was clammy and noticing he was shaking a bit. "Ready to do this?" she asked.
Buck nodded, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
"Then let's go see your man," Maddie said with a warm smile.
Buck and Maddie started down the aisle, and Buck's breath hitched in his chest. There, waiting for him, was the most beautiful man in the entire world. Tommy was staring back at him, his face adorned with that special, crinkly-eyed smile reserved just for Buck – the "Evan smile."
Buck had to stop himself from running to Tommy. He could not wait to become his husband. Finally, he reached the end of the aisle, and Maddie gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Buck stood next to Tommy and grasped his hands, his heart swelling with love and anticipation. Tommy leaned in and whispered, "Hey, gorgeous," before giving Buck a little wink. The gesture, so intimate and playful, made Buck's knees weak. He nearly passed out from the overwhelming happiness he was feeling in this moment, standing beside the man he loved.
Bobby looked at the two men with a proud smile and began the ceremony. It felt like everything was happening too quickly, and in a blink, it was time for the vows. It had been decided that Buck would read his first, so he began:
"Tommy, I spent so much of my life desperately searching for something that I couldn't put a name to. I was lost, aimlessly wandering through life, and then you kissed me, and everything came into focus. You helped me to see a whole other side of myself and to accept myself for everything that I am. From the moment we started dating, I knew that there was something different about our relationship. Something strong. And then I went and screwed it up by talking about hot chicks on our first date."
The guests laughed politely at Buck's confession.
"But you never made me feel bad. You wanted to let me do things on my own timeline, and you were open to giving me a second chance. And after that coffee date, I swore to myself that I was going to do everything in my power to keep you."
Buck paused for a moment, his eyes locked on Tommy's, before continuing.
"Tommy, you opened my eyes to a whole new world. You have made me feel safe, protected, and like I matter. Your love is my lifeline, and I vow to spend the rest of my life working to be the man that you deserve."
As Buck finished his vows, Tommy, deeply moved by his words, responded softly, "Oh baby, you already are." His voice was barely louder than a whisper, but it carried the weight of his love and admiration for the man standing before him.
Bobby smiled and indicated with a small nod that it was Tommy's turn. Tommy took a deep breath, his eyes glistening as he began his vows.
"Evan Matthew Buckley, you are sunshine personified. For so long, I lived my life with a dark cloud above me. I was scared to share my heart with anyone. I spent so many years in the closet, afraid to admit who I was. And even after I had accepted myself, I still walked around with a chip on my shoulder, mad at the world."
Tommy paused, reaching out to take Buck's hands in his own, his touch gentle and reassuring.
"You changed all that, Evan. You softened my heart and allowed me to be vulnerable. Your love melted my icy heart, and you brought warmth and light into my life in a way I never thought possible."
Tommy's voice wavered slightly, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He took a steadying breath, his eyes never leaving Buck's.
"Ev, your love makes me a better person, and I vow to spend every day of my life protecting you from the harshness of the world and never allowing anyone to extinguish your beautiful sparkle."
As Tommy finished his vows, a single tear rolled down his cheek. Buck, equally moved, reached out to gently wipe it away, his own eyes shining with love.
"I believe you have rings to exchange," Bobby said, and they both nodded, never taking their eyes off one another.
"Do you, Evan Matthew Buckley, take Thomas Michael Kinard to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I do," Buck replied, sliding the ring onto Tommy's finger, his hand trembling slightly with emotion.
"And do you, Thomas Michael Kinard, take Evan Matthew Buckley to be your lawfully wedded husband?"
"I absolutely do," Tommy said as he slipped the ring on Evan's finger, his smile so big it looked like it might actually be painful.
Bobby beamed at the newlyweds, his voice filled with joy as he proclaimed, "Then by the powers vested in me, I am delighted to pronounce you husband and husband. Ladies and Gentlemen, I present to you Thomas and Evan Kinard!"
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idyllic-ghost · 22 hours
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title: Stay in Character! pairing: vernon x gn!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, warnings: reader has a sister with a kid, mentions of childbirth, mentions of stress, anxiety over moving in with a partner synopsis: You're on the verge of panicking - you still have moving boxes to pack and move into your boyfriend's apartment, but you can't leave the fact that your sister is giving birth to her second child while you're babysitting her first. However, your stress slowly dissipates when you walk into your cluttered kitchen and see your boyfriend playing pretend with your niece. wordcount: 5.9k
rating: PG 15
a/n: i keep wanting to write soft fluffy vernon blurbs idk what's happening
tbh i really liked vernon’s outfit in this mv, but these pictures in particular just inspired me idk
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The bumbling sounds from your tiny kitchen caught your attention as soon as you got out of the phone call with your sister's husband. Once one anxious thought was gone, another one appeared out of the blue - what were they doing in there? They weren't messing with the boxes, were they? You took a deep breath, trying to calm down enough for you to have an interaction without yelling.
Rolling up your sleeves, you walked into your kitchen to deal with the next situation. The walls were covered with stacked boxes, so you almost couldn't see the old wallpaper. The noises were coming from your kitchen table, which still wasn't packed up. Vernon was sitting at the table with your niece, and the two of them had put out a paper plate with whatever snacks they could find, three glasses, and a bottle of water.
Your shoulders relaxed as you watched the two of them play pretend. They had clearly been trying to help you pack but had gotten distracted by your miscellaneous items. Vernon was wearing one of your scarves on his head and an old pair of sunglasses you had forgotten about - your niece wearing a matching pair. However, as soon as he saw you come in, he took off the glasses and sent you a gentle smile.
"Is everything okay?" he asked.
It was all so ridiculous. Your sister was in the middle of an unexpectedly early childbirth, in the middle of you getting ready to move into your boyfriend's apartment, and here he was: playing dress-up with your niece. In some weird way, it was just what you needed - how Vernon could know you had no idea.
"She's fine," you finally replied with a tired smile. "It was a little bit of a surprise, but everything seems to be okay... what are the two of you doing?"
"We're just-"
"Stay in character!" your niece complained.
Vernon mouthed "Sorry," before putting the sunglasses back on and turning back to your niece. With his usual, matter-of-fact voice, he asked her what she thought about the weather. Your niece picked up her glass and took a sip of the water, making an exaggerated "ahh" as she put it back down.
"Too much rain," she responded with a nonchalant wave of her hand.
You could see Vernon have to restrain himself from laughing, his hand flying up to cover his smile. After clearing his throat, he nodded in agreement. You should be packing up the last of your stuff, the moving truck will arrive soon, and you should probably text your sister's husband again to ask him to send you updates. But right now, you could feel how tired you were in your bones. So, you sat down on the third chair and let Vernon pour you a glass of water. Then, he picked up the paper plate and held it out to you.
"Gummy worm?" he asked.
"How old are those?" You chuckled as you inspected the candies on the plate.
"I have no idea," he admitted. "But the cookies are from last week, I think."
You took a cookie and silently thanked him. Vernon and your niece continued their conversation about rain, which took a sharp turn when Vernon mentioned thunder - which was apparently very controversial in your niece's eyes. Any anxious feelings you had over moving in with Vernon were slowly disappearing. For a moment, you could truly let go of everything as Vernon kept your niece busy - and if he acted like this in a moment of crisis, maybe the two of you would do well living together.
"Bathroom break!" your niece suddenly exclaimed, clapping her hands together once to signal that the scene was over.
She hopped off her chair and walked away to your small bathroom. You had already taken all of the boxes out of there, so you knew that she would be okay on her own.
"She's a little director," Vernon said.
"She is," you murmured.
He gave you a long look, a silent "Are you really okay?" to which you responded with a nod. Vernon moved his chair closer to yours, wrapping his arms around you and slowly patting your head.
"You're doing good, babe," he muttered against the top of your head.
"Thank you."
"I'll go back to packing up and you could sit with her for a bit," he suggested. "Or I could do anything else you need."
"Packing sounds good," you hummed. "I just need to make sure she's not feeling neglected or anything, you know? My sister was worried."
Vernon let go of you and grabbed your hand to give it a comforting squeeze. He was still wearing the scarf and the sunglasses, and you could no longer keep a straight face. You snort and turn away from him, trying to shield yourself from breaking out into even more laughter.
"What?" he asked and tried to make you look at him again. "Am I not pretty?"
After taking a deep breath, you look back at him with a contained grin. Vernon cocks his head at you, clearly aware of the way he looks now but also determined to keep you smiling. Your niece eventually came back from the bathroom and climbed back onto her chair. The two of you looked at her expectantly as she cleared her throat.
"Bathroom break's over!" she chimed.
"Honey," you said carefully. "Is it okay if Vernon goes away to pack some more stuff and I stay here with you?"
Your niece glanced back and forth between the two of you before extending her hand to Vernon. He carefully removed his scarf and glasses and placed them into her small, outstretched palm.
"You've been replaced!" your niece exclaimed dramatically as she handed you the items. "I'll give you the roll as long as you stay in character!"
As you and Vernon erupted into laughter, your niece continued to mimic the voice of a director before she eventually joined you in your mirth. Everything that could go wrong today, did go wrong - yet, it felt bearable with Vernon by your side. Observing his banter with your niece might have seemed like a man simply engaging in make-believe with his partner's niece others, but to you, it was a deeply serene and comforting scene. You knew with certainty that your future was in reliable hands.
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feedback is always appreciated!♡
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starboyee · 16 hours
Text
My kind of love
rafe cameron x male reader
warnings: smut, fluff (near the end), rough sex, oral sex, arguing (not that much)
a/n: not proofread so if you see any grammatical errors just pretend it's not there
"you know what, fuck you rafe" you yell at the top of your lungs "oh fuck me no how about fuck you y/n" rafe yells back, "then why the fuck are you still here, leave" you scream at rafe "what'd i even do" rafe gets defensive "staying out late as hell even though I told you to come home right away" you say "well how is that all my fault" rafe ask "because you could've at least texted me to tell me you're okay" you yell "well I'm sorry the whole world doesn't revolve around little mister y/n" rafe mocks yelling back at you.
"fuck you rafe" you say angrily "fuck you too" rafe rebuttals "get the fuck out of my house" you say pointing to the door "fine it's not like anything will change" rafe says walking out before slamming the door behind him, you break down in tears after rafe slams the door and rafe gets in his car and begins crying before fixing himself up and driving off, you watching as his car pulls out of your driveway.
rafe drives to a bar and walks in before sitting down a the counter "two tequila shots please" rafe asks the bartender, he thinks about what happened between you to and regrets the things he said, he gets the shots and downs both of them wincing at the taste of both, rafe feels an aching hard on come over him "fuck" he mutters to himself why the fuck does this have to happen to him now.
"I could just handle this in the bathroom" he thinks to himself as he walks over to the bathroom and checks to see if all the stalls are empty, once he's sure he goes into the end stall and pulls out his phone where he goes to a saved audio of you jerking off moaning his name, he begins jerking off but it doesn't feel the same as your hole but he ignores it and tries to get rid of his boner, he jerks off for what feels like forever but he can't get rid of it he texts you.
"I need your help" "what rafe" you respond to the text quickly "I can't get a nut off without you" "and what do you want me to do about it" "be ready when I get home" "and what if I'm not" "y/n please don't play this right now i really need your help" "so you want me to be ready when you get home but when I yell at you for not telling me your out late I'm wrong" "and I'm sorry for that but I really need that hole right now" "no" "when I get home you better be ready" rafe text last as he walks out the bathroom and to his car.
rafe gets home quickly and walks to your room, you sitting there in bed waiting for him "I thought I said be ready" rafe sternly says "and I said no" you sternly say back "y/n please dont start this right now, I have the worst boner ever right now" rafe pleads "how about no" you say with some sass "well then I guess you're not gonna walk by morning" rafe says grabbing you by the waist and kissing you deeply "is that answer still a no" rafe asks smirking "maybe" you say dazed.
rafe bends you over onto the bed and rips your shirt off before taking off your pants and underwear "oh what the fuck rafe that was my favorite shirt" you say mad "shut up, I'll buy you a new one" rafe kisses down your back "whatever" you roll your eyes "keep rolling your eyes and I'll make sure they stay like that" rafe growls in your ear "fuck you" you say "happily" rafe smiles before taking off his clothes flipping you over on your back and putting you on the bed.
rafe strokes his cock over you "you want it" rafe asks smiling cockily "y- yes" you say as drool runs down your chin "then take it" rafe says before shoving his dick in you dry "oh fuck" you yell out "I'm sorry I just need to feel this warmth so badly" rafe says gripping your ass with full force "be a little lighter please" you say "I'll try baby" rafe says leaving hickeys across your neck.
rafe pounds into you hard and harshly as you try to keep going with his pace, but your determination is slowly trickling away "rafe please be lighter" you ask "I can't baby you just feel so good" rafe says incoherently, you feel like your hole is getting absolutely obliterated by rafes cock plowing in and out of it so quickly "rafe I can't take it" you say with a shaky voice "please y/n please just last a little longer I'm so close" rafe moans still thrusting into you like your a flesh light, his long deep strokes but strong and hard thrusts make you feel like your being torn apart.
"oh shit s/w" you yell to rafe who stops his whole body movements, he leans up and sees you fucked out state "I'm so so sorry y/n I didn't mean to hurt you" rafe says hugging you tightly and flooding your face with kisses "no it's not your fault" you say "no it is, I shouldve stop sooner when you said slow down" rafe beats himself up while holding you sweetly "rafe it is not your fault, you just were a little aggressive that's all" you grab his face to look at you and say softly "yeah but I shouldn't be aggressive with you" rafe says gripping the bridge of his nose "eh I like it when you get aggressive" you say kissing him.
you notice his still hard boner hasn't gone down on bit "you need some help with that" you ask pointing down to his dick "yes pretty please" he says "well then you just sit there and look pretty" you say crawling down in between rafes legs and begining to stroke his cock, rafe bites down on his lip to silence a moan that dared to come out "oh no baby let out all those sweet sounding moans for me" you coo making rafe let out a small whimper, you sink your mouth onto his dick and start a rhythm of sucking, licking the tip of his dick and fondling his balls.
"oh fuck I'm close" rafe moans "you like this" you say muffled "mhmmm" he whimpers, you fully sink your mouth onto his cock, the tip hitting the back of your throat as you swirl your tongue around his base and massage his thighs "can I please cum in your mouth" rafe says gripping the bedsheets "mhm" you say still choking on his dick and bobbing your head up and down, rafe wraps a chunk of your hair in his hand and forces your head down "fuckkk" he groans flooding your mouth with his seed.
you lift your head up as the cum drips down your chin "swallow" rafe says looking you deep in the eyes, you swallow it all down with a big gulp "good job" rafe says pulling you into a kiss "we need a bath" you chuckle "then let's take one" rafe says getting up and walking to the bathroom, turning on the faucet and you hear the water fill up the tub, after some time of waiting rafe walks back to the room and picks you up and lays you in the tub before getting in himself, sliding behind you as you lean on his chest.
"I really am sorry for not noticing you were hurtin" rafe says lightly washing you "rafe I'm really fine" you say rubbing down rafes legs "no I should be sorry, you deserve good sex always" rafe says kissing the top of your head "you always give me good sex" you say laying you head on his collarbone "i love you so much y/n" rafe says smiling down at you "I love you too".
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Prompt idea: Holiday celebration get horrendously fucked (birthday, Christmas, Halloween, Passover, doesn’t matter really, dealers choice) and one of them has to comfort the other and help them through a meltdown over their favorite day getting fucked up
Happy birthday and hopefully your day isn’t as bad as you would make Ed and Stede’s!
I wasn't able to get this one edited and posted on my birthday, but it's still a precious prompt and I loved writing for it!! Here's the story of The Time That Stede Fucked Up Passover.
--
"The eleventh plague," Stede said glumly as he watched Ed open a kitchen window to air out some of the smoke, "easily misread cooking directions."
"Well, babe," Ed said over his shoulder, "I'm not sure why you thought that the oven needed to be set to 450 for brisket -"
"I misread the package, Ed," Stede snapped, trying to hide the wobble in his voice.
"Aww, no, that came out wrong." Ed, who had been poking at the smoking, thoroughly blackened brisket sitting on the stovetop to salvage for any edible parts, held out a hand for Stede to take.
Stede pretended he didn't see, looking down at his lap.
It was Stede's first Passover with Ed, and he knew it was a big deal. Ed's mama was coming over for the seder, and Stede had been trying so fucking hard to get it all right. Passover was Ed's favorite holiday! He couldn't fuck it up!
So he did all his research. He practiced reading the haggadah, the text read at the seder - even though Ed would be doing most of the reading, he wanted to be able to pronounce the prayers without asking for help and mark spots where he could raise interesting discussion or questions and (hopefully) impress Ed's mom. He'd figured out voices to use for all of Ed's plague-themed finger puppets to add a bit of levity, triple-checked what they needed for the seder plate, and he'd stressed over making sure dinner was perfect.
When the local synagogue had released sign-ups for pre-made brisket packs, of course he'd signed them up. He wasn't the greatest cook, and neither was Ed, so he figured that having the main course squared away would take a load off his mind and allow him to focus on getting the table set and ready while Ed prepared the roasted sweet potatoes, matzo ball soup, and an extra-big helping of charoset.
And now he'd fucked up his one contribution to dinner, and he hadn't even gotten the table ready, and he'd forgotten to put the wine in the fridge to chill, all because he couldn't even read the package -
"Stede, babe, you need to breathe."
Stede jerked his eyes open. He didn't even remember closing them, but now Ed was kneeling in front of him at the table. He put a gentle, calming hand on Stede's thigh, looking up at him with a small smile.
"I'm so, so sorry, Ed," Stede sighed, scrubbing at his eyes before his tears could fall. "I've ruined everything - I'm the worst boyfriend ever."
"Hey, don't talk about my boyfriend that way," Ed pretended to grumble. "You just misread the instructions. Could've happened to anyone, and you've never made brisket before, have you?"
"No," Stede admitted.
"There ya go," Ed said easily. "You do need to wear your reading glasses more often, though. Not even just saying that because I think they're hot."
"Ed," Stede snorted. "Was any of it edible?"
"Stede," Ed said solemnly, "that thing is burnt to a sizzle. It's basically a rock. It's an ex-brisket."
"Great," Stede sighed. "Your mom's going to hate me."
"She's gonna love you," Ed promised. "Wanna know how I know?"
Stede just pursed his lips.
"Because you tried," Ed said. "You tried so fucking hard."
"That doesn't change the fact that our main course is burnt beyond recognition, Ed."
"C'mon, man, get it straight." Ed rubbed a soothing little circle over Stede's kneecap. "If you think my mama is showing up here without more food than any of us can eat, you're in for a surprise."
Well. That made it a bit better.
"I'm just sorry," Stede said, his shoulders hunching inward with his guilt. "I wanted this to be the best Passover you've ever had -"
"It will be," Ed said, immediately. "Because you're here. And I love you."
"I love you, too." Stede cupped Ed's cheek in his hand, his heart swelling at the way Ed tilted his face into the contact. "Promise you're not mad?"
"Not a bit," Ed said.
Stede leaned in to kiss him, but they pulled apart when they heard a car pull into the driveway.
"The eleventh plague," Ed said cheekily, giving Stede a quick kiss on his way up. "Meeting your boyfriend's mom."
Stede shivered.
"C'mon, babe, she'll love you!" One last kiss, and Ed darted out to meet his mama before she had a chance to start trying to carry things in herself.
Stede took a deep breath, made sure no one could see him for just long enough to flip off the stupid brisket on the stove, and then he ran out to join them.
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probably-writing-x · 2 days
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All The Firsts (Part 2)
Summary: So, could you write something about the reader being in her first relationship with spider (hbh) and her being worried about how she’s new at this?
Warnings: Mentions of sex / sexual acts, cursing, hints at anxiety / overthinking, Missy being a villain (I’m so sorry it just fits the story okay?)
Word Count: 5.8k
Author’s Note: Thank you for the love on part one!! Part three is already in the works if y’all want it??
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You’d spent the whole weekend with Spencer after that. You cooked dinner together on Saturday night and bickered over when the pasta was done cooking. You watched his favourite movie and then made him watch yours. And on Sunday, you went to watch the sunrise over the water and then spent the rest of the day cuddled in bed. Spencer kissed you at every opportunity, like he was reminding you more and more that this was real. You still got nervous at the contact, still weren’t exactly sure if you were doing it right or if it felt as good for him as it did for you. But he seemed to know exactly what he was doing.
“I should really go back to mine,” You mumble, laying between his legs with your back pressed against his chest as he played video games.
He was propped up against the headboard, pausing the game when you speak.
“A few more hours won’t hurt,” He leans down to kiss your cheek.
“Yes, it will,” You laugh, “I’ve still not done my homework for tomorrow, and I need to be home at least some point this weekend.”
He grumbles and tightens his grip around you, “Homework can wait.”
You hum, tilting your head to peck his lips quickly, “I’ll see you in the morning.”
He groans, kissing you once more before releasing his grip on you.
Spencer gets up and walks you down the stairs, even standing at the door to watch you walk the few steps over to your house. He only closes the door when he sees you go inside.
If you thought about it briefly, this entire weekend felt like a fever dream. How had you gone from Friday to now? On Friday, you’d been preparing for your first date, with a guy you’d known for a week, your first experience of anything like this. And in the past two days, Spencer had shown you so much of what you felt like you’d been missing. Kissing you, holding you, making you feel like you were worthy of every piece of affection. Your heart seemed to backflip at the thought, the idea that this was reality.
“There she is!” It’s your Mum who speaks up as soon as you enter the house, “I’d have started to get worried if you were any further away than next door.”
You laugh, “Yeah, sorry, I thought I should come home at least once before the weekend’s over.”
“Oh don’t be silly, you’re young, you’re supposed to be out all the time,” She chuckles, “This is what we’re meant to be putting up with as parents.”
You’d always been close with your parents, mainly because they never had much to worry about. You got good grades, you were always home on time, you helped out around the house, you were never one to be out late partying or off somewhere they didn’t know. You were too much of a golden girl to be a worry for them. If anything, your Mum was a little relieved to see you doing something at least slightly out of character.
“So, Spencer?” She raises her brows at you, “Little Spec that you used to have sleepovers with, Spec that drives you to school every day. When did this happen?”
“Um,” You clear your throat, scratching at the back of your neck, “I don’t know, it’s new. I actually don’t know wh- I don’t know.”
“Oh I don’t understand you young kids these days,” She shakes her head, “Are you dating are you not dating? I’ll never understand it.”
“I should go and do my work before tomorrow,” You excuse yourself, making your way upstairs to your own room.
The curtains are open and so are Spencer’s across the way. He’s sat back on his bed still playing the same game he’d been playing before you left, fully engrossed in the screen.
Do your work!!
You send the text and set your phone down onto your desk, glancing through the window once more to see him smile down at the words on his screen. He looks up to you through the window then and his lips curl into an even brighter smile. You feel your heart flip once more.
———
The following morning, Spencer is waiting in the car like he always is for you. You hurry down and get into the passenger seat, dropping your bag onto the back seats,
“Good morning, doll,” He smiles when he sees you, leaning over to kiss you quickly, “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, ready,” You nod, plugging your phone into the aux.
You’d done this same journey a million times with Spencer. And yet something felt so different about being sat next to him now. He wasn’t just the boy you’d grown up with now, he was your first kiss, your first date, the first time you’d stayed over at a guys house, the first boy you were talking to your Mum about. He was filling in so many firsts.
In that moment, however, you have the realisation that none of those were yet to be firsts for him. He’d had plenty of kisses in his time, had more than enough dates, had a number of girls stay over at his house, his Mum had even met Missy. He’d done all of those things before he’d done them with you. And that was okay. You couldn’t exactly be annoyed at him for experiencing those things before you. What mattered that it was you now. Right? But what if those other girls had been better than you? What if they’d kissed better or been prettier or been more confident or…
“Where’s that head gone?” Spencer speaks over your overthinking, “Because if you’re about to start talking to me about your math homework I’m pulling the car over.”
“No, no, I’m just-“ You half-laugh, looking over to him, “Nothing.”
He smiles, keeping his eyes focused on the road as he moves his hand from the gearstick to instead rest on your thigh, his thumb smoothing over the bare skin below the cut-off of your shorts.
Your skin tingles beneath his touch, seemingly another first for you. But how many girls had sat in this seat? How many girls had he made that same move with? You swallow the lump in your throat and try to ignore it.
———
Spencer parks up in his usual spot and you both get out of the car, him handing you your bag as you do.
“Okay, I’ll see you at the end of the day,” You nod, slinging your bag over your shoulder.
“What are you talking about?” He laughs, reaching for your hand and interlocking your fingers, “Come on, come say hi to the guys, at least stay with us until first period.”
“I-“ You frown, “I never see you much in school.”
He laughs again, turning around to face you, “Got somewhere better to be, (Y/l/n)?”
“I- no,” You smile, following alongside him as he walks you over to the wall where a group of the boys were sat.
You didn’t recognise any of them, apart from Ant. The only other two you’d known were Dusty and Malakai but both of them had left now. Ant is sat with another girl, Harper, and she smiles when she sees you.
“Morning boys,” Spider says, “You all know (Y/n), right?”
“Yeah how’s it going (Y/n)? You’re never with us in the morning,” Ant points out, smiling so you knew he didn’t mean it rudely.
“Yeah Ant’s brain will probably combust if he’s with more than one girl at once, right buddy?” Spencer hits his leg and takes a seat on the wall opposite them.
This spot used to be an old bike park but too many kids got their wheels slashed so Woodsy gave up on the idea of having one. Now, it was just three walls all perpendicular to each other, with the remains of metal railings in the centre. You hop up onto the spot beside Spencer and he leans one of his arms around the back of you - not necessarily around you, just resting there as if he wanted to reassure you.
“How come you weren’t out on Friday Spider?” One of the guys asks him.
“I…” Spider glances at you and then back to the group, “Something came up.”
Harper looks at you across the way and smiles. She must be able to tell you’re nervous. You’re not sure if you should speak or let the others do the talking. Should you be making it more obvious that something was going on with Spencer? Were they all going to question him on it as soon as you left?
“Well, you should’ve been there.”
“Yeah, man, you missed a good party.”
They all go into explaining something that had happened at the party and you try to pick up on names you might recognise. Someone mentions Missy and you feel your chest tighten, a strange reaction, you think.
“Hey (Y/n), I think we have first period together,” Harper mentions, “Maths right? Do you want to walk over?”
“Yeah, yeah sure,” You nod, reaching for your bag.
You hop down from the wall and watch as Harper turns to kiss Ant before she leaves. Oh god. Should you do the same to Spencer. You turn around and look at him and he smiles.
“I’ll see you at lunch?”
“Um, yeah, okay,” You nod, “See you.”
He didn’t make a move to kiss you. But, then again, neither did you. Maybe you should have done. Will his friends think you were weird if you didn’t?
“Sorry, thought you might just want to get away from that boy talk for a while,” Harper leans in to say to you quietly as you’re both walking away, “You and Spencer are a thing then?”
“Oh, um,” You shrug, “Yeah, I guess so, it’s new so I don’t know.”
“You guys have been friends for like ever though right?” She points out, “He mentions you all the time.”
“He does?”
“Oh yeah,” Harper laughs, “Ant was telling me the other week the boys ask for lifts off Spider all the time and he always refuses. They call you his ‘golden girl’. I’m honestly surprised it took him this long to make a move.”
You feel the heat rise in your cheeks, suppressing a smile that you’d save for when you mentioned this to Spider later, “Yeah, I didn’t think anything would ever happen with us. But I’m glad it has.”
You walk through to class with her and go to sit with your friends on the table near the front. They ask you about your weekend and oddly enough you can’t bring yourself to mention anything about Spencer. What would you say? You knew a few of them silently judged him and that entire group for everything. They were so different to you guys. They were loud and outgoing and disruptive. And you guys got your work in on time and spoke about plans for after school or what the latest book you were reading was. They were… just different. And so you liked the idea of keeping the two things separate for a while. At least whilst you were still figuring out what exactly was going on with you and Spencer. You didn’t want to ask for fear of the answer not being what you desired.
———
By the middle of the day, you’re leaving your class for lunch. Your few friends walk out with you and go to turn down the corridor towards your lockers but, as you step out of the room, you’re stopped by someone else.
“Last out of class, I shouldn’t be surprised,” Spencer comments as his hand stops your wrist in motion, “Ready to go to lunch?”
The girls turn around and look at you with a frown, looking between you and him and then down to where his hand still held you.
“Um, I’ll catch up with you guys later,” You smile to them, turning around to Spencer before you can catch sight of their disapproving faces.
“I don’t think you’ve ever introduced me to your friends,” Spencer points out, “Do they know about me?”
“Everyone knows about you,” You laugh, “You’re not exactly known for being incognito around school. In fact, I’m pretty sure you hit one of them with a cake once when you started that food fight after the elections.”
He grimaces, “Yeah, might have to apologise for that one if I want to get in their good books.”
You like the idea of him wanting to impress your friends, the idea that he’d want them to like him. It makes you feel like there is some sort of permanence to this. Some sort of longevity that stretched beyond one perfect weekend.
“Here, you can put your stuff in my locker,” He mentions, taking your books from your arms, “I won’t let you forget it.”
Spencer closes the locker and then continues his walk beside you, his hand brushing yours every so often until his fingers lace with your own. Every little contact from him seemed like a gentle reminder that you really weren’t dreaming this. This was really happening.
You both wait in line to get your food and he places a hand on your back to let you go ahead of him. You still tingle under the touch. He asks you how your days been and tells you he’s thought of another film you need to watch. You ask him if he listened to the song you’d sent him last night and he said he’d already added it to his playlist.
He points out a table over in the corner and the two of you go over, sitting opposite each other.
“So this is technically our first meal out together,” You point out, pushing the rice around your plate, “You’re practically taking me out for dinner.”
“I always thought it would be more romantic than this,” Spider laughs, his leg brushing yours under the table.
“So you’ve thought about it.”
“Well I mean I-“
“There you are!”
Within moments, you’re interrupted by Spider’s friends clambering around the table. Ant sits down next to you and smiles, throwing down a wrapped sandwich and a bag of chips and a can of soda.
“Don’t mind if we join you, do you?” One of the boys sits beside Spider and nudges his arm.
“Um,” Spencer clears his throat, “Course not.”
He looks over to you but you’re already distracted by the chorus of conversation that starts up beside you.
Was this normal? The new normal? If you wanted to see Spencer did you have to spend all this time with his friends too? They seemed okay. But they were talking about a game you didn’t know, and another one of them brought up a school trip that was happening tomorrow. They all seem to speak over each other and yet all manage to understand. You eat your food, not really adding much to the conversation but smiling and nodding so that you at least looked like you were engaged. You wanted to be back with your friends in that moment - they’d be talking to you about a new film that they wanted to see, or a new album that was coming out and you’d agree and have something to actually input into the conversation. You could actually be part of the chorus. But right now you felt like a bystander.
———
Spencer drives you home, of course, and this time he comes round to your house instead of you parting ways at the car.
“I’m back Mum!” You call out as you step inside, tossing your keys into the bowl near the front door.
“Oh hello darling!” She beams when she sees you, “And Spencer! To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“I heard you were making burgers, I’m just here for the burgers,” He grins, “It’s good to see you.”
“Im sure you get taller every time I see you, and you’re only over the way,” She smiles up at him, “Well you’re more than welcome to stay for dinner, as long as you help me open the pickles. I was going to wait for Dad to get home but now you’re here you can try.”
“Of course,” Spencer smiles, disappearing into the kitchen.
“I knew it would happen eventually,” Your Mum turns to you with a smile on her face, one that reminded you of your own, “I knew it!”
You roll your eyes, “Oh stop it Mum. It’s still new, we’re just… seeing how it goes.”
“Got them!” Spencer steps back out into the hallway, “I left the jar on the counter.”
“Oh thank you darling,” Your Mum smiles, “Dinner will be ready in about an hour.”
“Should we…?” Spencer looks at you.
“Yeah let’s go,” You go up the stairs and he follows behind you up into your bedroom.
It was a bedroom of magnolia walls, one of which was covered in displayed vinyl covers, a vinyl player on a table in the corner beside your desk. Your bed was against the same wall as the window and Spencer sits down onto the edge of it as you set your bag down and check your appearance in the mirror above your vanity.
“It feels weird to do the whole ‘meeting the parents thing’ when I already know her,” Spencer mentions, flicking through the pages of the book you’d left on your bed, “Less nerve wracking.”
“Is it normally worse than that?” You ask, “Because that still seemed pretty uncomfortable."
"What do you mean? She loves me!"
"I dont know I just-" You shake your head, "I don't know what to say when people ask me about us. Harper asked about it earlier and I just don't know what I'm supposed to say."
"Well, there’s nothing you’re supposed to say,” He shrugs, “It’s up to you.”
“I think it’s up to you too,” You point out, stepping towards him.
When you’re close enough, he reaches his hands out to draw you in between his legs, looking up at you as you stand there, “Just tell them we’re seeing each other. That’s enough to shut them up.”
“Are we? I mean… are we seeing each other?” Your cheeks are heating up again.
Spencer squints at you, “Yeah I think I can see you.”
You hit at his chest, “You know what I mean.”
He hums and moves his hands around to the back of your thighs, guiding you onto his lap, your thighs straddling either side of his, “Yeah, I think we are,” He mumbles close to your lips, planting a kiss there.
You smile against his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck. He holds his hands on your waist, deepening the kiss. You still weren’t sure what you were supposed to do, but you let him take the lead. You just let instinct take over. Spencer moves one hand to your back as if he wants to draw you impossibly closer to him. He smiles against your lips and shifts just enough to lift you up, guiding you down onto the mattress. Your head drops down to the pillow, hair splaying behind you. He’s hovering over you, hand gripping your hip as yours grip his shoulders, him dipping down to kiss you again. There’s contact and friction and the unfamiliar feeling of his weight on top of you. And something in your brain seems to ignite in that moment.
“Spencer,” You whisper, feeling your heartbeat pound against your chest, averting your eyes away from his gaze, “I don’t want to- I don’t-“
He stops in his movements, his hand still on your waist, looking down at you until your eyes meet his, “(Y/n), I didn’t- you know that’s okay, right?”
He shifts his weight until he drops down to the mattress beside you, leaning up onto his elbow so that he doesn’t lose your eyes.
“We don’t have to do anything,” He assures you, “I’m not in any rush.”
You look at him for a second and take a deep breath, “But I know you’ve… you know, you’ve done all of that before. Isn’t it weird for you if I don’t want to do any of that yet?”
He shakes his head instantly, “Absolutely not.”
There’s a tightness in your chest and for some reason, the longer he looks at you the more you feel like you’re going to cry under his focus. You can feel your bottom lip threatening to tremble.
“(Y/n) you’ve not done this before. You’re not supposed to know what to do or how to act or what to say - it’s okay to figure all of that out. I just want you to feel like you can tell me when things aren’t what you want, okay?” He holds your hand in his, “And if you ever feel like you can’t tell me, that’s when we’ve got a problem we need to fix.”
You smile and nod at him, not sure of any words that fit the moment, not sure of any words that you could get out without your voice breaking.
“Okay, can I kiss you now?” He smiles at you, leaning in and pausing just inches from your lips.
When you nod, he kisses you softly with a smile on his face. You feel your heart skip the same way it had done after your first kiss.
———
Your Mum was surprisingly relaxed about you and Spencer being together. She didn’t even think twice about saying he should stay the night. Maybe she was just happy to see you happy. Or maybe her old dreams for you were finally becoming a reality and she just wanted to hold onto it. You eat dinner with your parents and then watch a film with them downstairs before Spencer’s eyes start to slowly lose their energy and you tell your parents you should probably go to bed. He used a spare toothbrush and waited for you in the bathroom whilst you got unready, he sat on the toilet and read the ingredients of your skincare - stumbling over the complex spellings. He followed you out and back into your bedroom, closing the door behind him gently.
“Okay, full transparency, I normally sleep naked,” He raises his hands as if he’s surrendering the information.
You laugh, “Well, thanks for telling me.”
“But I can sacrifice that freedom for tonight and at least wear boxers,” He nods, pulling off his t-shirt and hanging it over your desk chair.
He’s toned and his muscles seem even more so defined in the dim light. His shoulders are broad and seem to contort so intensely that it makes the soft features of his face look almost misplaced on him.
“Are you staring at me, (Y/n)?” He grins, stepping towards you.
“Just-“ You swallow the lump in your throat, “Looking.”
“Looking?” He cocks a brow, wrapping his arms around your waist as soon as you’re within reach.
He buries his face into your neck, planting a soft kiss into the crook before tightening his arms and lifting you from the ground. You let out an involuntary squeal and wrap your arms around him as he carries you over to the bed, planting you down on the side closest to the wall before dropping down onto the mattress beside you. His arm is already outstretched, waiting for you to tuck in against his chest. You lay there and feel his heart under your head, swirling patterns with the tip of your finger around the bare skin of his torso.
“So I wanted to ask you something,” You take a breath, “How does this all work now? Like… if we’re… whatever we are… how does it work at school?”
“Do you mean with lunch? I’m sorry they all came over and sat with us, it’s just a force of habit and they probably didn’t think anything of it but-“
“No, it’s okay,” You say softly, looking down at a crease in the sheets on your bed, “I just mean in general - lunch, classes, before school - if we’re… i mean, should i be with you the whole time?”
“Do you not want to be?” He chuckles, “Because if I’m keeping you from-“
You lean up onto your elbow and roll your eyes, “That’s not what I meant!”
He laughs again, brushing your hair back over your shoulder, “There’s no rule book, (Y/n). I want to see you as much as I can but that doesn’t mean you should be worried about having to spend all this time with my friends too.”
“I know but like… Harper’s with you guys,” You shrug, your index finger drawing circles on his chest, “Would they think it’s weird if I’m not with you?”
He leans up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead, dropping back down onto the pillow before he says, “They can think whatever they want.”
He tightens his arm around you and pulls you back into him, wrapping both of his arms around your body in a tight embrace.
“We should get some sleep,” You mumble into him, arm draped over his torso.
It was strange to you how quickly you settled into contact with Spencer. You’d never done anything like this. And yet when he held you, when he touched you, it felt like it was just natural. It wasn’t as scary as you thought it would all be. Sure, some parts of it still were. But you weren’t as scared as before.
———
The following morning, Spencer leaves early to go and pack a bag. There was a school trip this week - in these cabins in the woods, surrounding a vast lake. All of your year group were going and more often than not it was an opportunity to hide drink and add to the complex web of gossip that already existed. You were almost packed anyway, putting the last couple of bits in, a book for when you got bored, a notebook and a few pens, an extra outfit just in case.
He texts you to make sure he’s not forgetting anything and then you go downstairs to meet him. He drives with his hand on your leg, singing along to the throwback playlist you’d queued. He pulls into his parking space and the bus is already waiting as students file on. His friends are still hanging around outside, yelling at him to come over when they see him get out of the car.
“I think I’m going to meet my friends on the bus,” You mention as you’re walking over, feeling a little nervousness in your voice, “Is that okay?”
Spencer looks at you and smiles, “Of course it is.”
He glances at his friends momentarily and then leans in to kiss you softly - it was quick but he didn’t rush, squeezing your hand before he heads over towards the boys. One of them swings his arm over Spencer’s shoulders, saying something incoherent before glancing over at you and grinning. You make your way onto the bus and go to sit in the few seats your friends were already occupying. They ask you if the Spencer White had seriously just kissed you outside and then complain at you for not telling them sooner. They weren’t as judgy as you’d expected. More surprised. They want to know how it happened, when it happened, was he a good kisser?
Spencer and his friends all pile into the bus and stumble over each other to get to their seats. They’re loud and take up space and your friends seem to exchange a glance between each other that they’re almost hiding from you. Like they want to complain but figure you’re not the one to complain to.
Spencer sits in the seat behind you and your friend, Ant sitting in one of the seats opposite as the other boys fill in the space. Missy and Sasha walk on, taking the row behind Spencer. You realise this is the first time you’d properly seen her since you and Spencer had got together. You hadn’t thought about it enough, clearly. But when you see her sit down you feel your stomach turn a little. She’d done all of this before. With Spider. Had he done all of the same things with her? Had he taken her to the same spot to swim? Had he fallen asleep watching a film with her? Had he kissed her the same way? She might’ve been better than you were, too. She was more experienced. She knew more of what to do, probably more confident in doing it too.
“So, our boy Spider’s in for a fun trip,” Ant wiggles his brows at his friend, “Should we be expecting a pregnancy by the end of the week?”
“Fuck off Ant,” Spencer returns quickly, and it’s as if you can feel his eyes burning into the back of your head.
“Come on, I’d be a good uncle!” Ant defends.
You glance over your shoulder and see Spencer laughing at him, a bright smile on his face. He turns over to you and rolls his eyes, his smile not faltering. You feel the heat in your cheeks again.
“Spider with a kid?” Missy laughs outwardly, “He’d give up after a few months, might not even make it to the birth.”
“Yeah I think Spider could be used as an example of why contraception is a good thing,” Sasha adds.
You turn around a little, like you want to tune into the conversation. They thought so little of him.
“I wouldn’t speak so soon, our boy’s married off now,” Ant raises his hands and he looks at you with a smile like he is reminding you he means well.
Harper hits at his arm as she sits down as if hoping it would take back what he just said. She looks at you and shakes her head.
“Married off? To who?” Missy persists.
“(Y/n).”
One of the boys says it but you don’t know which one. You feel your stomach churn again and that strange sort of numbness in your body where you wish you could just disappear into the seat beneath you. You didn’t like being the centre of attention like this. And it seemed to be a new common occurrence now that you were with Spencer.
“(Y/n)?” Missy doesn’t laugh but she might as well do, like it’s the most surprising news she’s heard, “You must be joking.”
Nobody says anything at first. And you feel the urge to get up and pretend this had nothing to do with you. You could just go back to being invisible, to existing away from the conversations of these people. To no longer be a topic of their discussion.
“Why would that be a joke?”
Even when you say the words you’re convinced they haven’t come from you. Surely not. You wouldn’t say anything. You would just sit there and not say anything. But you had done. And now even more eyes seemed to be on you.
You turn around and Missy is looking at you directly. Her arms are folded, her head cocked to the side, her eyebrows raised just slightly as if she’s analysing you.
“You’re smart, right?” She shrugs, “Shouldn’t take you long to figure it out.”
You don’t say anything more, turning back to the front of the bus. Your friends look at you but dont say anything and you feel Spencer move behind you as if he’s going to say something. But he doesn’t. He sinks back into this seat and the boys carry on a conversation like nothing has happened.
———
You’re in assigned rooms for the trip. And it’s just your luck, isn’t it? You, Harper, Amerie and Missy.
“Well, this looks cosy,” Amerie says as the four of you step into the room.
It’s a typical cabin bedroom, walls of wooden slats and a roof just the same. A wooden floor decorated with an aged carpet rug that was fraying at either end. There’s a window on the far side, a single pane that looks like it could be made of plastic. It looks out over to the water, seemingly a redeemable feature of the setting. There are two bunk beds, one either side of the room, either side of the window. The mattresses are thin, the pillows even thinner, blankets folded in a square on the ends of the bed beside a rolled up towel.
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding,” Missy grumbles, dropping her bag down onto one of the bed, “This can’t get any worse.”
“Yeah, it can’t,” You mumble, sitting down on the opposite mattress.
Missy looks over at you as she sits down, taking a deep breath.
“Missy, don’t start something,” Harper says quickly, glancing at you with a sympathetic furrow between her brows.
“I just-“ Missy raises her hands as if gesturing that she came in peace, “I want to know what Spider’s told you. I mean, I dated that guy. I know what he’s like. What’s changed that he’s suddenly got to you?”
“Got to me?” You frown, “What do you mean?”
“He spoke about you a lot and when i asked him about it he said you two were just friends or whatever,” She shrugs, “Like, he told you he could never imagine seeing you like that.”
“Missy,” Harper’s voice is more of a warning tone now, like she can see exactly where this is going and what’s to end up ahead of it.
“Im just saying, he used to tell me he felt sorry for you - so is that what this is? This is just him feeling really, really sorry for you?”
You feel a lump form in your throat and you can’t figure out the right way to respond. What could you say? What did she want you to say?
Before you can say anything else, there’s a knock at the door. Amerie goes over to open it, mumbling something about it being a relief that something would break the tension.
“Fucking terrible timing Spider,” She winces, stepping aside at the doorway as if opening up the room.
You look over and he’s stood there. His hair is flopping on either side of his forehead, the smile on his face faltering at the sight. You and Missy sat opposite each other, your mouth empty of any words and your eyes brimming just enough with tears that hadn’t fallen. That lump still in your throat making it feel like it was impossible to breathe.
“(Y/n)?” He frowns, glancing between the girls as if he’s hoping at least one of them will give him an answer, “What’s happened?”
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A bit of a loaded question, I know, but do you have any TF ships you prefer and would like to share?
I need you to be aware that you're opening pandora's box here. The vibes range anywhere from "god this is hot" to "god this is cute" to "their dynamic is so fucking interesting and i want to study them under laboratory conditions" to "this hurts so much and I need the drama, I am CRYING" to smashing barbie dolls together. I have crackships you ain't even THOUGHT about. I throw ships at the wall just to see if they stick. I like a lot of ships. Arguably too damn many. So many that I'm putting this under a cut to spare people from the long post. So many that I have to sort them by continuity so you're not staring at an unorganized list longer than do you love the color of the sky.
TFA
shockbee I feel has a lot of the potential for shockwave fearing what happens when bee finds out he's not longarm. Like a lot of the scenes in auto boot camp read to me like shockwave really did want bee as an ally while he climbs the ranks, and there's some juicy potential for shocker starting out as just using him until he actually catches feelings. Especially in aus where bee really did join the elite guard. Like can you imagine the drama. The heartbreak. The trust issues. Bee realizing he never really knew the guy he could trust most. Wondering if he's even safe to be around. If anything was even real. Shockwave wondering the same things. Hhhhhhhhh.
I do enjoy shockblurr conceptually but I'm not crazy about how they're usually portrayed in the fandom bc I feel like we're all forgetting that shockwave is a ball of anxiety and murder, and Blurr is a straight laced fuckin nerd who can't shut his mouth. An overpowered, highly capable nerd, but a nerd still. I like what the artist katzske does with them a lot tho.
I'm also a blitzbee enjoyer but on a less "bee can fix him and itll be so sweet" level and more "god imagine how annoying they'd be together." Looney Tunes levels of fucking with people. Either that or bumblebee is just horny on main and really likes the thought of bagging a con, but then he goes and catches feelings.
prowlbulk owns my entire heart. They're so sweet on each other and prowl really respects and appreciates bulkhead way more than bulky's used to. And bulkhead admires so much of prowl's skill and perspective. They work so well together as a couple and it's fucking adorable. With a hint of tragedy bc. Well. You know.
Bulkbee is also incredibly cute bc I'm a sucker for besties that very slowly realize they love each other so much it makes them look stupid. Good in romantic or qpr flavors. Bee already climbs all over bulkhead like a squirrel, they're so fuckin affectionate and very very stupid in social settings.
I like Optimus and blackarachnia from a drama standpoint bc God. They are tragic. They are MESSY. I genuinely think there's no happy ending for them. The trust is gone. But they still miss each other so much and they just CANT move on, so they keep stringing each other along. They're just hurting themselves and each other every time one does anything nice for the other. It's the kinda shit that just slowly rips your heart out. OP please don't text your ex. OP pLEASE
Megop is a classic but I feel we as a fandom underutilize how much Optimus pisses off Megatron. He is an asshole cat knocking shit off the counter for attention. Megs lets him be worse when he is so so fucking tired of being good. He loves that he hates him and he hates that he loves him. Full on "my esteemed rival" "dearly detested." Fighting each other is cathartic and addictive. Megatron finds it infuriating but he can't deny how much he likes having a worthy opponent, how fitting it is that the cosmos sent him so deadly a nemesis, and yet how lame it is that he was so forgettable at first so now he feels dumb being mildly obsessed with him. Optimus is just glad he has someone who doesn't expect him to be perfect and nice and upstanding. He can vent out a lot of his less noble feelings or impulses that he's had completely repressed for ages. The pressure's off in a lot of ways. And I think in an enemies to lovers sense, watching them figure out how to make that setup and that very odd mutual desire to be in each other's lives into something healthier could be really compelling. Or tragic in a "why did I let myself need you? Why the fuck did I let myself need you?" way.
Beeprowl is funny but I only really like it in a "you annoy me SO MUCH let's make out about it" way. Nothing committed, just dispelling the tension without having to kill each other. It is just kinda nice seeing them have genuinely sweet moments though. Squidbob ass relationship.
Lugnut and Strika are the perfect Decepticon power couple and I love them so much. So very much. Lugnut loves his big terrifying wife capable of leveling cities, and she loves her sweet devoted husband who could throw her across the room. I think they break chairs over each other's heads for fun and have been trying to seduce Megatron into a threesome for ages.
Shockwave and Megatron are also incredibly good. The loyalty. The "I commit my whole existence to you. I am yours, in mind body and soul. I will go wherever you need me to, I will put myself in immeasurable danger for you, just please say I'm doing a good job" and "all my efforts would be lost without you. In a world where I have been vulnerable and terrified, where I have been stabbed in the back by people I thought I could wholly trust, I can look at you and know, unwaveringly, you won't do the same. I trust you completely." It's Delicious. It's absolutely codependent but god it's tasty.
Also honestly? Bulkhead and the constructicons could make a pretty cute throuple. He wants them to be better. They want him to be worse. He just wants them to do honest work and they want him to stop letting stuffy, elitist autobot society control him so much. They love each other, they're friends (even if the constructicons don't totally remember the first night they met him). And they really do enjoy each other's company. They're just guys being dudes. Just dudes being guys. Just guys being gays. (It's also just nice when bulkhead gets to be the smaller one, scrapper totally carries him around like a big ol' cat).
I really like prowl being torn between lockdown and jazz. They're the devil and angel on his shoulders. Lockdown tempting him into relapsing, feeling himself fall into old habits, forsaking everything he's learned about patience and respect and being conscientious of the world around him. Jazz picking him back up when he slips, making him WANT to keep being better. And prowl can't decide if he wants to be loved in spite of all his toxic traits or BECAUSE of them. It's got me in a chokehold, your honor.
Megastar is fun in tfa because 1. It's implied Megatron never actually abused starscream while they were on the same side (the first thing starscream says after waking up from being shot is "YOU DARE STRIKE ME, MEGATRON?" which reads to me like this is a new development). Megs doesn't actually hurt anyone working for him other than Sumdac, who he fucking hates (at least not on-screen), and the only reason he was as aggro to starscream post-revival was because he knew screamer is the reason he spent all that fucking time as just a severed head. He used to actually trust him, sort of, even if he was a scheming, sycophantic little weasel. And 2. It's pretty obvious they have history together. I genuinely truly believe they were exes and Starscream only planted a bomb on him because he couldn't be fucking normal about the divorce. You look at how they bitch at each other in deep space and then immediately fall into what is most likely their old dynamic of getting things done and shooting the shit and tell me they never had an intense romantic stint that went horribly wrong. Starscream calls him Meggy in his internal logs for fucks sake.
Ratchet x Arcee are also very very cute together. Old married dorks. Ratchet's so soft with her and he wants her to be okay. She genuinely likes him and he makes the nightmare she's subjected herself to bearable. "Don't call me sir, I work for a living!" They're both horrifically traumatized, they understand each other on a level most bots can't, and they can ground each other when it gets bad. God. You know they're slow dancing in the kitchen together. You know they're sickeningly domestic with each other. They are holding hands in the park on a comically small bench on earth right as we SPEAK.
Oh also sumdac x megatron. It started as a crackship of mine but I really love the idea of sumdac feeling legitimately guilty for taking Megatron apart and unknowingly violating him the way he did, even if Megatron is terrible. Like the dynamic of "you lied to me" "if I told you who I really was, I would be dead. I don't owe you the truth when you held me captive. I was vulnerable. I was TERRIFIED. I did what I had to in order to keep myself safe. And you come to ME with accusations of doing you wrong? When YOU held all the power? And then when I'd taken back the power you left me without, made you feel what I felt, I'm a monster?" "I never meant to hurt you" "Well you did. And now you know just how much damage you did." Like it's such an interesting angle, ESPECIALLY when you consider that sumdac probably grew to legitimately care about Megatron while he was in his lab. He wanted to do right by him. He wanted to see him restored and thriving. He was his robot buddy that made a birthday gift for his kid once. Some part of him probably misses him after he's gone, some part of him probably feels guilty too, even through all the rage and hurt and fear and betrayal. That's complicated feelings!! That's juicy!!!!!
I like the thought of Shockwave and Optimus but that's mostly for sexy reasons. Something about a big, smooth talking, scary cryptid monster, very well spoken and elegant, seducing Good, Upstanding Autobot Optimus to The Dark Side. This is mostly because Optimus is a huge nerd and so is Shockwave. I think Shockwave could potentially pique his interest with uncensored versions of the history Optimus is already a huge dweeb about, and seal the deal with a few gentle touches and honeyed words. From Optimus's perspective this is Very Obviously a Honeypot Trap but the trouble is Shockwave is very hot and very sweet on him and starting to seem less and less evil so he's not sure how long he can keep his guard up when the temptation is this strong. He has a duty to fight Decepticons and shut out their lies but man. He's so tired. And Shockwave's berth is very warm. There is something satisfying about seeing him choose to be selfish after nearly a whole show of him taking the high road. (It's even better if he gets attached when eventually Shockwave's Cool Sexy Collected vibes falter and he sees how much of an anxious, panicky dork he actually is)
I also just kind of like the idea of team prime being a polycule (other than ratchet, who is just watching the young bots having relationship drama and rolling his optics (the age gap and mentor role make me personally a little uncomfortable but I have nothing against people who do include him, they're all adults, its chill)). I like the thought of these losers getting home after a long day and collapsing into a cuddle pile, either on the couch or on the floor. They all love each other so much already, I think they should kiss about it, but they're super repressed so it's So Very Shy and Cautious and Sweet.
The same goes for the Decepticons but more in a "cons are pretty casual about sex anyway, they're in close proximity, and they tolerate each other at least so nearly everyone has a fuck buds setup with each other" way. I feel like the autobots are super repressed in that regard so the cons started leaning into being sluts to stick it to the mech along with all the other freaks shit they're cool with. God help Blackarachnia, she goes from Autobot repression to all her coworkers being sluts on main and she Does Not Know what to do about that (also it would make a lot of sense if that's why she started leaning into the femme fatale thing so hard)
TFP
Megop is also Very Good here. Literally the most divorced robots to ever exist. Megatron NEEDS Optimus back and Optimus still holds a torch for megs, but it's so fucking funny because they're clearly on fundamentally different levels of "I miss you." Like Optimus is kinda sad and he does want the old Megatronus back, but Megatron does these whole fuckin elaborate stunts to get Optimus to pay attention to him again and then locks himself in his room with a pint of ice cream and dark energon to cry about him. Mans is NOT coping. Alternatively, Optimus is coping just as poorly on the inside and he really does still love Megatron just as much but he knows that's a selfish desire that he quiets with everything else he sacrifices about himself in the name of being a good leader. Least repressed Optimus.
Optiratch my beloved. Gay old men who would do anything for each other, even when they really don't agree on how to proceed. They're best friends, they're husbands, they're crushing on each other and they think it's unrequited, they just started dating, they've been married for eons. All of it works soooo well. They know each other well enough that they can communicate by just kinda grunting in specific ways. I need them to hold hands SO bad.
Bulkhead and wheeljack should get to kiss on the mouth I think. If Arcee can call Wheeljack Bulkhead's boyfriend, and bulkhead does not deny it, logic dictates they should in fact French kiss sloppy style for a whole minute on live TV. It can happen. Only on the hub.
KOBD are adorable together, they are so unhinged and stupid and they love each other so much. Like the team rocket of the nemesis. Breakdown loves his husband soooo much and knockout misses him so bad when Silas gets him. And you KNOW they're freaks bc knockout is totally convinced that breakdown would've loved seeing how he torments Silas in bd's body. He's probably right about it too.
I also wholly support Ms. June Darby for trying to seduce Optimus. Me too girl, get that robo ass. Go get jack a new cooler dad. It's also very cute to imagine Optimus, the bigass 30 foot robot, the stoic leader of the Autobots who keeps stonefaced through just about anything, flustered and crushing on a very small and very flirty human.
For some reason the show was kind of trying to tease Bulkhead x Arcee for exactly one episode and then never again and like. Look. I understand it was a forced het ship that was there to distract people from how gay they accidentally made the show. I know it'd probably just be Arcee rebounding after losing Cliffjumper. But I think them having a fwb type relationship while she works through her feelings could be interesting. Though this could just be because Bulkhead is big sweet and comforting and him holding anyone and making them feel safe while they're Going Through it is enough to get me saying God I Wish That Were Me.
Bumblebee and Smokescreen appeal to me in the same way seemingly very hetero frat bros who are apparently a very sweet and affectionate gay couple do. It's an inherently funny irony and also theyre just both cute himbos.
TFP Megastar is horrifically unhealthy in general and there is absolutely no way in hell it could work out. Not pre-war, not post-megs-redemption, nada. Which is why it has my brain in a chokehold. This is one of the ships I like because it's fascinating and because god it HURTS. Like I have my gripes with how the show portrayed the abuse overall but there were some things they were cooking with. Starscream being an obvious victim but then turning around and inflicting it on everyone around him? Girl no, the cycle of violence and abuse!!!! Girl no, you're refusing to do the complex emotional work of accepting that what happened to you wasnt okay and thus you carry out the behaviors you've gaslit yourself into thinking are normal!!!!!! Girl no, society has failed you and you have no support systems to help you break the cycles, but you also simply refuse to try in the first place because your pride wouldn't allow it!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No girl!!!!!!!!!!!!!! The cortical psychic patch was literally my fave showcase of their dynamic in the whole show. "I don't want to play this game anymore!" Like jfc ouch. Also the thought of post redemption Megatron lamenting how he treated Starscream, not having considered the damage he's done to him before now. Trying to make it right and only making it all worse by inserting himself into Starscream's life again and realizing how badly he's broken him, how fucked it is that Starscream seems to revere him after EVERYTHING. God. GOD. I'm in agony.
Rescue Bots
Speaking of starscream in the cycle of abuse, KOSS has postcanon potential. (Post Predacons Rising, rid does not exist 😌) Like. They've proven they feel some type of way about each other. "I've always admired your lustrous finish." "😏" But Knockout was the first person in starscream's life to set a boundary in a healthy way. And when starscream inevitably ignores those boundaries and knockout leaves, you know how much it fucking hurts starscream to realize how badly he fucked up. But of course, the pride. He can't apologize. Can't admit he's the reason knockout betrayed him. So he'll choke back the tears. He'll try to, anyway. But he can't stop the agony in his voice while he feebly spits out "Fine! I hope Unicron eats you too!!" You know the second they shut the door on him, the waterworks started, and so did the closest thing to self reflection Starscream's ever done. He Has the Potential to be Better with Knockout, but he NEEDS to put in the work, and the suspense of wondering if he WILL fucks my whole shit up.
It is so close to canon that blades and bumblebee are boyfriends. Hell I believe it pretty much IS canon. He loves that bug so much. He gets jealous when he hangs out with Dani and not him. He hugs him for a photo the first chance he gets. And since we know blades is confirmed as being into dudes, I think we all know what they were getting at. TFP bumblebee has an anxious twink boyfriend that lives in Maine and we have no idea whatsoever if the rest of team prime knows.
Graham and boulder pine for each other like you would not believe. Once again, pretty much canon. You can't just have boulder keep telling Graham "well I like you just how you are" when Graham's trying to impress a girl and expect me to not think he has a big stupid gay crush on his best friend. They love each other so much as partners and as friends, I know damn well they'd be SICKENINGLY cute together as boyfriends. They'd probably try to stealth it at first bc a human and a giant robot alien in love? What'll the others think?? Gotta keep it secret. Sneaking off into the woods so Boulder can work on his "art projects" but in fact they are kissing. They're not as slick as they think they are, Chief Burns 100% picks up what's going on but he lets them think they're sneaky. Nobody actually has any problems with it other than Kade making fun of them a little but don't worry that's just him projecting.
On the opposite side of the spectrum, Heatwave and Kade are the worst fucking tsunderes about crushing on each other. Between heatwave refusing to let down the brooding tough guy persona and kade being so insistent on staying hyper masculine (to the point where mild internalized homophobia is inevitable), neither of them can just be honest about how much they mean to each other and they gotta resort to getting each other's attention by being mean in very low stakes ways. I am drowning, there is no sign of land, you are coming down with me, hand in unloveable hand, except they're not drowning and they're just dunking each other in a kiddie pool repeatedly.
Heatwave and quickshadow are fun for similar reasons but with less shit lord pranks and/or lowbrow bitching, and more classy verbal sniping and sparring with each other because heatwave thinks it's hot when quickshadow kicks his ass. They're insufferably competitive and I think that could be very fun and incredibly messy, especially since they both need to learn how to communicate. Very bisexual, they are forced to share the brain cell, 10/10
I also just enjoy the idea of all the bots being in a polycule the same way I like the idea for TFA's team prime. They're very sweet together and they clearly care about each other a lot. Its just kind of nice when they all hold hands together, you feel me? They're sneaking off to kiss in the bunker bc they don't know if the humans know dudes can like other dudes. They are also not as subtle as they think they are.
Oh also doc Greene and chief burns dated once when they were teenagers and it didn't work out but they stayed besties, nobody can change my mind on this.
Beast Wars
Dinobot and Megatron are exes, 100%. Dinobot is probably the only being in the known universe that Megatron actually kind of cares about other than himself and his rubber duck. Otherwise he wouldn't keep trying to fucking clone him to make a version that will never leave him. There's also some implications here and there that Megatron really did want the world to be better for Predacons (along with the desire for power, anyway) and that preds are genuinely treated unfairly, so there's a pretty compelling angle of dinobot having been drawn to megatron because he saw someone with noble goals and a way to fix their fucked up world before becoming disillusioned with the dishonorable tyrant he turned out to be.
Dinobot and Optimus are also very good together bc it really truly feels like Dinobot finally found the guy with honor he thought he saw in Megatron. And he's infuriating half the time because he isn't nearly as bloodthirsty as he's used to, but GODDAMN does he make him Feel Things. The entire episode Gorilla Warfare has me obsessed with them. The bitching. Dinobot freaking the fuck out and Optimus tenderly removing the seed pod stuck to the back of his neck that was freaking him out and only laughing at him a little. Dinobot constantly trying to choose violence. The stupid smile when Optimus also chooses violence and Dinobot realizes he fucked up. THE BEDSIDE VIGIL. "It was my shift" AND YOU KNOW THEY WEREN'T TAKING SHIFTS. THE FLOWER ON THE BEDSIDE TABLE. "it is good to have you back." "Back home or back to normal?" "...both." THEY'RE HOMOSEXUAL, YOUR HONOR.
Dinobot (shit maybe I just really like dinobot) with Rattrap is good for similar reasons but the vibes are totally different. DoOp is all soft and sweet and patient and light ribbing, Dinotrap is talking shit at each other as a love language. Dinobot is a good guy but he's also, fundamentally, a bitch. Rattrap has proven he can match his freak by bitching right back. They love each other by pretending to hate each other. To the point where if Rattrap doesn't hear any comebacks he genuinely starts worrying because "oh, we aren't playing the game, why aren't you playing, are you okay?" They have so many soft tender moments where they prove they actually love each other. Their last conversation is talking shit!!!! "You're just a slag spouting saurian, but it's nice to know where you stand." "Upwind of you for preference, rodent." They loved each other!!!!!! Rattrap is fucked up over losing him!!!!!!!!!!! It's bittersweet, it's tragic, it hurts so bad and I love them so much!!!! They're stupid your honor!!!!!!!!!!!!
On a much sillier side, I do love Rattrap x Rhinox. Rattrap kissed that man twice. On the mouth. On screen. Annoying little gremlin who goes "nyehhhh" x big stoic dude who goes "hn." And they're both tech guys so they probably work on projects together a lot. And they all survive and are fine bc beast machines isnt real 💖
I have my problems with Silverbolt in general but I cannot deny that he and Blackarachnia are pretty damn cute together. He loves his girlfriend, they trash her shitty ex together, she loves that he doesn't try to change her. She gets to be the bad girl and the sweet knight in shining armor still loves her. "Dark poison of my heart" like c'mon.
Airazor and Tigatron are also pretty cute AND they have the honor of being the first canon gay couple in the tf franchise bc of the Japanese dub, which made Airazor a dude but left the romance unchanged (the Japanese dub was also just generally fuckin insane tho so it's not all that shocking).
Waspinator and Terrorsaur are boyfriends for real and for canon, John hasbro told me himself.
RiD 2001
I ship skybyte with that one girl that lives in a state of constant talking-car-based torment. Why? Because when I watched rid with my roommate we had a running joke that eventually they'd meet and have a whole robotfucker romcom arc and it kinda just stuck. This is my only rid ship and I will not be taking criticism on it.
Cyberverse
Bumblebee, Hot Rod and Cheetor are in a polycule together and nobody can tell me they aren't. Just how it's gotta be.
I want Perceptor and Dead End to kiss so badly. They're technically canon already given how hard the creators ship them. They hold hands your honor. "only a bolthead would go out there... UGH I'm such a BOLTHEAD" HES IN LOVE YOUR HONOR.
Hot Rod and Soundwave are great as enemies to lovers, they're so annoying 💖. I feel like they'd start playing gay chicken and be married with three kids wondering when the other guy is gonna back out.
SHOCKWAVE AND WHEELJACK OH MY GOD. fellas is it gay to program your drones which are just tiny versions of your own altmode to dance funny to Tetris music specifically because it makes your lame ass boyfriend laugh and then keep that function eons after you break up and still remember exactly what the command is? Fellas is it gay to get kidnapped by your ex and then get really excited about all the cool shit he's been making while you were separated? I wish they could've gotten a happy ending man, they could've been so cute together.
I don't ship it romantically but I believe in Grimlock & Arcee qpr. They love each other so so much they would've readily died for each other. I love their dynamic, they're insane 💖
Same goes for Shadowstriker and Soundwave tbh. Decepticon besties, and Shadowstriker being aro kinda just feels right. I like to think they cuddle and talk shit about Shockwave while Sounders blasts heavy metal. They play cod as the most insufferable duo.
Megop in cyberverse is so good because it really feels like they Had a relationship but it was unstable and moved too fast and they just assumed they were on the same page about things without communicating properly until suddenly they were in serious disagreement, and TRIED to work it out in a mature way but they were simply Doomed From the Start. And then it culminates in a whole fucking war but it rages so long, and they are so tired of fighting, and they realize they want to try again because nobody was really to blame for how things ended because they both handled it poorly. I wish they got that chance to try again properly. I wish when Optimus retired to just fuck around and vibe, he could've taken Megatron with him. I wish they could've fallen in love all over again.
Oh also Slipstream and Windblade being lesbian enemies to lovers bait was Fucking Phenomenal and I Love it So Much. They're smug and terrible and I want them to make out. They can make each other worse 💖
G1
I have not seen that much of g1 but I do know a few things are absolute truth.
Soundwave is gay for Megatron. This is arguably reciprocated.
Shockwave is gay for Megatron. This is not reciprocated but it is taken advantage of.
Starscream vacillates between gay for Megatron and trying to kill him. Megatron seems to reciprocate but only a little bit. Enough to keep him alive because he's cute. But megs also gets a lot of cuteness aggression so he feels the need to chuck starscream against the wall every now and then.
Powerglide and Astoria are tied for the pinnacle of robot on human romance in the entire tf franchise with Tracks and Raul, and if none of them come back in ANY tf media, I will riot.
Cliffjumper and Mirage have fucked at least once.
Wheeljack and Ratchet are gay married.
Optimus is bisexual and he loves elita-1 but there is something distinctly homoerotic going on with Megatron.
Conclusion
I like when the robots kiss <3
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bridgyrose · 1 day
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Ruby paced around the library as she muttered to herself, still not sure what she was even going to tell Blake and Weiss. Coco hadnt exactly made any of her feelings any clearer, only really muddying things up more. And yet, it wasnt like she could say Coco was wrong even if she wanted to. All she could do was pace and feel her heart race as she waited for her teammates to show. 
The minutes ticked by and soon Ruby found herself sitting down as she waited, fingers tapping against the screen of her scroll as she watched the time. An hour had passed since she texted her teammates, an hour of waiting as her nerves started to get the better of her and still no closer to having the words she wanted to tell them. A sigh left her lips and she leaned back in her chair. “Maybe this was a mistake.” 
“What’s a mistake?” Weiss asked as she walked over. “Sorry it took us so long to get here.” 
Blake nodded and sat down next to Ruby. “Yang wouldnt let us leave until we gave her our opinions on a few items for the dance. Not that she’ll really listen to us anyway.” 
“Yeah, she does get pretty excited about this stuff,” Ruby said as she rubbed the back of her head. “Though, I’m sure the dance will be fine.” 
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Weiss asked. “You made it sound important.” 
“Y-yeah,” Ruby nearly stammered with a blush. “I-I wanted to talk to you both about… us.” 
“Us?” Blake asked. “What about us?” 
Ruby went quiet as her words escaped her, not that she had all the words together. “I-I uh… I think we make a good team! And that we should… talk about… maybe spend more time together and…” her voice trailed off for a moment as she felt her heart race. “And to help me be myself again.” 
“Yourself again?”
“You mean like how you havent been focusing in class and the way you’ve been trying to avoid us?” Weiss asked. 
“I havent been trying to avoid you,” Ruby said as she looked away. “Ive been distracted and-” her words started to quiet as she tried to find the right words again. After a moment of silence, she slowly stood up. “Actually, I think this is a mistake. I’m sorry for-” 
“Ruby, what’s going on?” Blake asked as she put a hand on her shoulder. “Whatever it is, Weiss and I can help.” 
Weiss nodded and flashed a small smile. “If you dont tell us what’s going on, then we cant help.” 
“*Its not anything you can help with,*” Ruby thought to herself as she sat back down. “Its not… you cant… I’m… I’m distracted… by both of you.” 
“What do you mean?” 
“I cant get either of you out of my head.” Ruby took a breath to try to slow her heart as she felt it pound again, her fingers shook as she clutched the fabric of her skirt. “Maybe I’m sick or something but… at some point I couldnt stop thinking about either of you. My heart flutters when I’m near you, my cheeks heat up, and then I-I lose focus and… and then I…I…” She stopped once she felt her words get caught in her throat, more nervous than she’d been before. 
Blake smiled and rubbed Ruby’s back. “Sounds like love to me.” 
“Its not love!” Ruby half yelled. “Its… its not love, its… its something else. I want you both close and I want to be with you both but not… I dont love you, I just like you both.” 
“And we like you too,” Weiss said, a small blush crossing her own cheeks. “And I know we both want you in our lives too.” 
Blake nodded. “Though we should start getting back to the dorm. Its almost curfew and we dont need to get in trouble again.” 
“Yeah, we should head back.” Ruby stood up with Blake, her heart no longer pounding in her chest but her blush still just as deep as it’d been. And yet, she still didnt feel any less nervous around Blake or Weiss, the two of them still in her mind as she walked with them.
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theravenclawgirl7 · 9 hours
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I Lied
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You and Ellie met on a dating app, you lied about something minor, and she finds out (but is cute and fluffy, and a laugh is had).
Hi haven't written anything in a long while so forgive if this is absolute shite🙏🏻🙏🏻. This just popped into my head totally not based on anything real, no definitely not.
"Hey baby," Ellie greets as she walks through your shared bedroom door. She's slightly hunched over and shuffling her feet showing that she had a long, exhausting day.
You pop off the bed and wrap her in a hug. She melts into your embrace.
"You tired baby?" you question. You can feel the movement of her nodding her head against the crook of your neck. She must be really spent if she can't even say yes.
Usually, the moment she gets home from work she's either ranting about her incompetent coworkers or she's excitedly sharing a new fact she learned about that week's hyperfixation.
Her silence is a bit off-putting. You feel the need to hear her voice so you prompt her, "What can I do for you?"
The silence rings out for a moment, the only sound to be heard is your breath and hers intermingling. Then she's responding, "You know that time you told me you cooked pad thai before we started dating?"
You furrow your brows in confusion. You can recall when you told her that over text, in the dating app you met on, but you're a bit confused as to why she's bringing it up now, or why she even remembers that at all.
"Yes," you say hesitantly, wondering where this conversation is going.
"Can you make that? It sounds so good right now." She asks with puppy dog eyes.
For a moment you're caught off guard. You never thought she would ask you to make her pad thai after that conversation and you worry for all of two seconds before bursting into laughter.
Ellie pulls away from the hug and looks at you with confusion. She props her hand on her hip and watched as you double over with laughter before righting yourself and calming down.
"Oh baby, I'm sorry but I lied," You giggle again, "I tried to make pad thai but it turned out so bad. I only told you I made a good pad thai because I wanted you to think I was this sexy girl who could cook well," you let out one last chuckle when you finish your explanation.
Ellie's jaw is hanging open, "What if I was only dating you for your pad thai-making abilities?"
You chuckle at that as well. There is no way this woman is only dating you for your cooking skills, that's for sure.
"I'd say you're full of shit. We've been dating for two years and you have not once brought up my homemade pad thai." You prop a had on you hip and raise an eyebrow waiting for her retort.
She throws her head back with a laugh before enveloping you in her arms, "You're such an idiot, I love you."
You smack her arm playfully, "Hey I'm not an idiot, and I love you too."
"You're right, you're not an idiot my love." She says the last bit against your lips before connecting them.
When you break apart she looks down at you before asking, "Well now what are we going to eat?"
You shrug, "We can order Thai food for delivery."
"See this is why I love you, you're a problem solver." She places quick kisses across your cheeks and the bridge of your nose causing you to giggle.
"Okay okay get off me so I can make the order," you laugh as you push her away.
"I love you," she throws out as you walk out of the bedroom towards the kitchen.
"Yeah, yeah." you laugh, giddy over your girlfriend.
so yeah there ya go. idk what this was i just really need to get back into the habit of writing. this wasn’t proof read so sorry about any mistakes. i’m gonna keep writing so trust better stuff will be posted🙏🏻
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kikimurphys · 2 days
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Behind Closes Doors (Part 8)
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Warging: Smut
Much to your luck, you hadn't crossed paths with him on set, and you busied yourself steaming the dresses and suits the actors needed for their scenes and sewing beads back onto a skirt that had ripped. By lunchtime, you were exhausted.
When you got out of work, you headed to your apartment after picking up some take-out tacos. You had been craving something spicy all day. Once inside your apartment, you took off your heels and flopped onto the couch, legs up. They were swollen from having to stand in heels all day. "Ugh, why do I insist on dressing up? I always forget how pregnant I am," you muttered to yourself. And they weren’t even that high, to be honest.
After you finished eating, you placed the dishes in the sink and got yourself a glass of juice. God, you were so in the mood for a drink right now after the day you had. You had managed to not think about Cillian all afternoon, at least not as much as you used to.
Just as you stepped into your bedroom to change into your pajamas, the doorbell rang. You froze. Who could it be at this hour? You glanced at the clock—8:45 PM. With a sigh, you put your glass down and walked to the door, hoping it wasn’t anyone who would demand too much of your time. You were really tired and began to feel hot in your long-sleeved dress, all you wanted was to go to bed. You peeked through the peephole, standing on your tiptoes, and your breath caught in your throat.
Cillian stood there, looking as disheveled and tense as you felt. God, you had totally forgotten to text him back. Your first instinct was to ignore it, pretend you weren’t home, but you knew he wouldn’t leave that easily. Taking a deep breath, you opened the door.
“Cillian,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “What are you doing here?”
He looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of worry and determination. “We need to talk,” he said simply.
You stepped aside to let him in, closing the door behind him. You led him to the living room, where you both sat down, the tension between you palpable.
“I’ve been trying to reach you,” he began, his voice soft but insistent. “You didn't respond to my text.”
“I’ve been busy,” you replied, avoiding his gaze.
Cillian nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Look. I’m sorry. I was an asshole this morning. I can't even begin to imagine the amount of pressure you are under, and I feel terrible that you felt like you had to hide the fact you are pregnant from me, or to even think that I wouldn’t be a part of her life, or… yours.”
You bit your lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions his words stirred up. “I thought it would be easier if I just handled everything on my own. You have your own life, and I didn’t want to complicate things for you. You didn’t have to leave her.”
He reached to hold your hands in his. “The thing is, I wasn’t happy with her. Leaving you was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his confession. “Why did you do it then?” you asked quietly, confusion and sadness in your voice.
“I don’t know,” he looked away. “I thought I was doing the right thing... and I ended up hurting the one person I didn't want to hurt, and I'm terribly sorry about it.”
“You did hurt me, Cill,” you stopped and sniffed as you began to feel tears well up in your eyes. “I was so confused when you dumped me, and then when you got back with Siobhan… I felt like I meant nothing to you. It was like you just erased everything we had.”
Cillian’s grip on your hands tightened, his eyes pleading. “I never wanted to erase us. I was scared and I made a mistake, a terrible mistake. I was genuinely happy when I was with you. Please believe me, I want to be with you. I want to be with our daughter. You are the one I want.”
“Do you mean that?” You were shocked by his confession. Did he really feel the same as you? You had convinced yourself that you didn’t mean anything to him more than sex and a good time.
“Yeah,” he responded quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. He reached out to cup your cheek with his hand and gently wiped away a tear. “I love you, Y/N. And now that we have this baby on the way,” he stopped and placed a hand on your bump. You felt your baby move at his touch. “I don’t ever want to let you go again.”
Love? Did he say love?
“But what about your family? Your life? I mean—” You were still unsure and couldn’t believe his words.
“None of it means anything without you,” he said, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m ready to tell everyone about us, about our daughter. I want to give you the place you deserve in my life. No more hiding, no more secrets.”
His words washed over you, soothing the doubts and fears that had been swirling in your mind. You searched his eyes for any sign of insincerity but found only earnestness and love.
He leaned closer and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss was tender, his hands holding your face in place, while your arms reached up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart against your chest.
As the kiss deepened, you suddenly pulled away, a mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Promise me," you said softly, locking eyes with him.
"What?" he asked quietly, his gaze searching yours.
"Promise me that you won't break my heart again," you pleaded, your voice tinged with vulnerability.
Cillian's expression softened, his fingers brushing gently against your cheek. "I promise you, Y/N," he replied solemnly, his voice filled with sincerity. "I won't ever leave you again. I love you."
He leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more passion and eagerness. Your lips moved in sync, tongues intertwining as the intensity of your desire for each other grew. Feeling his hands grip your hips, he swiftly pulled you into his lap. Straddling him, you felt the immediate rush of heat between your legs. “I love you too,” you murmured between kisses,  your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer to you. His hands began to caress your legs, running up and down as your dress bunched up at your hips. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your arousal. Through your dampened panties, you could feel his growing erection press against you.
“I've missed you,” he said as his hands moved to your breasts, massaging them through the fabric of your dress, and he began to trail kisses down your neck to your cleavage. You let out a moan and began to grind against him, your need for him growing more intense with each passing second.
“I missed your moans,” he murmured, his hands moving to the hem of your dress, lifting it up. You raised your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, leaving you in just your bra and  panties. He took a moment to admire your body in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes filled with desire and adoration.
"I missed you too." You leaned in to give him another passionate kiss, your hands roaming over his back. He reached to unclasp your bra, and you shivered at the sensation of his fingers against your skin. The bra fell away, and his hands immediately found your breasts, kneading them gently.
He leaned in to kiss you again, this time with more passion and eagerness. Your lips moved in sync, tongues intertwining as the intensity of your desire for each other grew. Feeling his hands grip your hips, he swiftly pulled you into his lap. Straddling him, you felt the immediate rush of heat between your legs. “I love you too,” you murmured between kisses, your hands finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer to you. His hands began to caress your legs, running up and down as your dress bunched up at your hips. Every touch sent a shiver down your spine, heightening your arousal. Through your dampened panties, you could feel his growing erection press against you.
“I've missed you,” he said as his hands moved to your breasts, massaging them through the fabric of your dress, and he began to trail kisses down your neck to your cleavage. You let out a moan and began to grind against him, your need for him growing more intense with each passing second.
“I missed your moans,” he murmured, his hands moving to the hem of your dress, lifting it up. You raised your arms, allowing him to pull it over your head, leaving you in just your bra and panties. He took a moment to admire your body in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes filled with desire and adoration.
"I missed you too." You leaned in to give him another passionate kiss, your hands roaming over his back. He reached to unclasp your bra, and you shivered at the sensation of his fingers against your skin. The bra fell away, and his hands immediately found your breasts, kneading them gently.
You arched your back, pressing closer to him, feeling the heat of his body through the fabric of his clothes. Your hands moved to his shirt, fumbling with the buttons in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. Finally, you managed to undo his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders. Your hands explored his freckled chest, tracing the contours of his muscles. He groaned softly at your touch, his hands moving down your torso and resting on your bump. The sight of your growing stomach turned him on even more. His hands reached your panties, and his fingers slipped under the fabric, beginning to massage your wet pussy.
"You're so wet," he said between kisses.
“Just for you,” you breathed out, craving his touch. He entered a finger, and a gasp escaped your lips as he began to trail kisses down your cleavage to your breasts, teasing and nibbling your nipples.
Your eyes closed, your mouth open from the ecstasy. “Ah, I missed how you make me feel.” The sensation was everything you had been wanting. You had been so horny the last few weeks and were more sensitive than usual due to your pregnancy.
“And how do I make you feel?” he asked playfully, his breath hot on your skin. Adding another finger, he pumped in and out of you slowly as his mouth continued to work its magic on your breasts. The combination of his skilled fingers and the warmth of his mouth sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You held onto his shoulders, rocking your hips against his hand, seeking more friction, more of him.
“Oooh, so good,” you whined, throwing your head back, your face contorted with pleasure.
He reached up to kiss you, his free hand cupping your breast and his thumb playing with your nipple as he devoured your mouth, swallowing your moans.
“Oh, fuck,” you gasped. Your movements became more erratic as you rode his hand. He curled his fingers inside you, hitting that perfect spot. "Come for me, baby," he whispered, his voice low and commanding.
The intensity of his words and the rhythm of his fingers pushed you over the edge. You clutched onto him, your body trembling as waves of ecstasy washed over you. “Oh my god!” Your cries of pleasure filled the room, your nails digging into his shoulders as you came hard around his fingers. He held you through it, his fingers never stopping until you were completely spent.
Breathless and trembling, you collapsed against him, your forehead resting on his shoulder. He gently withdrew his fingers, his other hand softly stroking your hair. “You’re incredible,” he whispered.
“You’re not too bad yourself,” you laughed, looking up and meeting his eyes. You leaned in to kiss him, your lips lingering on his, full of desire and affection.
With one hand still tangled in his hair, you reached down with the other to cup his erection through his pants. He was rock hard, and a low groan escaped his lips at your touch. His hand roamed down your back, grabbing your ass and giving it a little squeeze before he took your arms and placed them on his shoulders. With a swift motion, he grabbed your thighs and lifted you effortlessly, walking you to your bedroom.
@mamawiggers1980 @xsweetcatastrophe @thistheivyseason @galactict3a
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beevean · 2 months
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I keep thinking of this interpretation of N!Hector (at the bottom). How, essentially, his growth revolved around his conception of love: how he's at his core a broken, love-starved man who had to learn how to let go out of selflessness.
They make some valid points. So I want to put together why the story still wastes a very intriguing concept and its morals are still disgusting.
Let's take N!Hector purely from this angle. His sloppy writing starts to make sense. N!Hector never warms up to Carmilla, because his last memory of Carmilla is her beating him up after she revealed that her apparent respect was a lie. Dracula is on thin ice: he was the first person who was nice to him, but he lied to N!Hector about his real plans, and most importantly, got convinced that he might have died if Dracula actually succeeded. (still doesn't stop him from wanting to resurrect him)
Lenore is "nice" to him. Lenore not only praised his voice, the strength of his character, etc., but she also has shown that she wants to be with him for no ulterior reason, and that she wants to protect him from mean Carmilla.
So N!Hector is totally fine with her. It's okay that she beat him that one time, because it was his fault (granted, an abused person might think like that...). It's okay that she made a sexual game out of taking him out with a leash: that's just how vampires are, right? It's okay that she used sex and took advantage of his feelings to put a trapping ring on him: it was with good intentions. It was for his sake. It was to protect him.
So, N!Hector falls in love with Lenore because she did everything in her power to keep him in a gilded cage, including resorting to rape by deception. Abuse is love. Selfishness is love. He, too, loves like a vampire, shown by the way he surrounded himself with pets magically compelled to be loyal to him, so the two have the same love languages.
This speaks of a profoundly ill mentality, the byproduct of a lifetime of abuse. It's a delicate topic that should be treated with the utmost respect.
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exhibit a: respectful writing that truly gives trauma the gravitas it deserves.
After some more bonding over how similar Lenore and N!Hector are because no one loves them and they're just victims, they're so like each other fr fr, we get to S4E6. In a way, we can see N!Hector's actions here as a mirror to what Lenore has done to him: she used treachery to turn him into a tool and so "keeping him safe", and so he used treachery to cage her and protect her from N!Isaac destroying the entire life she built with the others. This is mercy for him. This is an act of love. Protect Lenore and stay close to her, but everyone else can die, even if it hurts her. I see the intention, I really do.
But add to this the fact that N!Hector's whole plan was for the sake of resurrecting Dracula, therefore risking another mass slaughter, for no other reason than to feel better about his mistakes, and we're starting to see a problem.
We're near the end of the show, and N!Hector hasn't grown one bit. Not morally, and not emotionally. He still has no empathy. He still loves like a vampire. He still has no self-respect. He went through unimaginable torture, and he's still the "manchild" we were supposed to laugh at in S2 - except now he's marginally cooler, I guess.
(also, is it really "love" if N!Hector genuinely thought N!Isaac would kill him and he accepted it? He didn't plan to stick around, he didn't plan to "keep" Lenore with him. So the point starts to fall apart.)
But then N!Isaac makes a speech to him about agency and the will to live, and a few episodes later, N!Hector has his "magnificent" growth. His sign of maturity is letting Lenore die. Not keeping her close, despite her being the kindest person to him (although I suppose N!Isaac will quickly replace her lol). Letting this woman, both a victim and an abuser, commit suicide on her own terms, the terms he never had, is N!Hector finally learning how to love.
All very nice and wholesome. On paper.
Lenore is forcibly made to be sympathetic in S4, to the point that it becomes blatant lying. Suddenly she has no sexual interest in N!Hector anymore, after all she did to him (and very interesting, that Lenore was only aroused when he was her prisoner - now that he has more freedom and seems to like her as a person, she doesn't care anymore). Suddenly her smug demeanour has vanished, treating him with almost real respect. Suddenly there's more focus on how alone she is, and how she and N!Hector can relate to each other and only have each other in the world. It's disingenuous, and all so that I could pity her, and believe that these two would care for each other, and be touched that N!Hector's big love gesture is allowing Lenore to find freedom from her unnatural existence, while in reality I'm just frustrated that this rapist got to find freedom from the consequences of her actions - she doesn't even feel bad for what she did, "I'm sorry for everything you went through", so much for growing to love him. It's not even framed as him being free of her, but her being free of herself, fuck that guy I guess. Hell, even her phrasing implies that the main reason she sunned herself was that she wasn't willing to live in a cage, even with Hector, basically throwing a tantrum because she didn't have power anymore. I get reading between the lines and connecting that what triggered her suicide was the realization that as a vampire she's inherently doomed to go insane with craving power, but she really painted herself in the worst light.
I can't even say that the show forgot about her previous behavior: it specifically calls out to Lenore "solving Hector's problem", but makes it a joke that is quickly brushed off. We are meant to be endeared at Lenore using sex as a tool of deception. Yeah, silly Lenore, that was awkward I guess. More seriously, Lenore neither had a solid change of heart/realization that she behaved like a monster in the name of her "good intentions", nor is she tragic enough compared to her actions - at most I can understand where part of her behavior is coming from, like her being happy to show her strength by beating N!Hector into the ground, but I don't feel sorry for her. The story had the chance to emphasize her conflict with her vampiric nature, if I was really meant to pity her hopeless existence, but it doesn't take it. So I have no reason to care about her, or think she's a good person for N!Hector. The fact that she is the kindest anyone has ever been to him doesn't mean that she is kind, just that this poor man has been spit on far too much.
And maybe N!Hector really is too broken to understand that being raped is bad. Maybe his abuser choosing to waste time around him feels like a banquet for someone as love starved as he is. But is that how he ends? Still not getting it? Still not feeling anything about the way he has been treated all this life? Is he really completely not conflicted about the two-faced way Lenore treated him?
And what about his relationship with humanity? Is writing a book about his mistakes really the best he can do? N!Isaac realized off screen that he wants to change the world for the better: what is, effectively, N!Hector's change in this aspect? Sure, maybe he won't keep resurrected pets anymore, but after jotting down how much he has fucked up in life, what does he want to do? What was his journey, made of nothing but suffering and mockery and the lesson "you are stupid for trusting", for?
If I am to read N!Hector as a victim of deep abuse, so damaging that he has lost all sorts of empathy, morals and self-worth... what is, then, the story told through him? He doesn't get better. He doesn't even get worse, in the same way Isaac did, for example - I proposed an ending where he snaps and sets the castle on fire as a bookend with his abusive childhood, which would have been tragic, but ofc it didn't happen. The climax of his journey is that he holds no resentment towards a woman who was both kind and cruel to him, and simply chose to forgive all the bad that was done to him without any struggle. He accepted the crumbs and lapped the plate.
The message: forgive the people who hurt you, if they think they are only helping you - in fact, don't even think about it. Not because it's unhealthy to let yourself be consumed by resentment. Because if they hurt you for your own good, then they are good people deep down.
Steven Universe became the internet's laughing stock for far less.
(it's not even that Lenore was his mother, or his long-time wife, someone that could be genuinely hard to distance yourself from if they abuse you. They knew each other for maybe two months.)
I cannot empathize with N!Hector, and I can't even sympathize with him, because this is not a character arc, this is a slop job. I don't think Lenore is so nice because she deigns to speak to him, and I don't think her wanting to protect N!Hector can make up for her disgusting behavior in S3. I have no reason to be happy that N!Hector is "free", because he's in the same position he started from in S2: cooped up in a castle, uninterested in getting closer with humankind, alone. And I have no reason to be sad that Lenore killed herself, because the story did a poor job of convincing me that she deserved to be happy with the man she treated like a pet before her character was disingenuously defanged.
I can assure you: Ellis did not have any intention of writing a story about how abuse warps your conception of love. He just liked kicking around a ball in the shape of a character, and then gave him a rushed "good" ending (that still feels bittersweet compared to all others) because of backlash. Trying to see a coherent arc here is like trying to squint to see an image on a magic eye poster, and the effort is not worth it. N!Hector deserved better, and abuse survivors deserve to be represented by characters written with love, not spite.
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cuddlytogas · 3 months
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So I accidentally almost got into an argument on Twitter, and now I'm thinking about bad historical costuming tropes. Specifically, Action Hero Leather Pants.
See, I was light-heartedly pointing out the inaccuracies of the costumes in Black Sails, and someone came out of the woodwork to defend the show. The misunderstanding was that they thought I was dismissing the show just for its costumes, which I wasn't - I was simply pointing out that it can't entirely care about material history (meaning specifically physical objects/culture) if it treats its clothes like that.
But this person was slightly offended on behalf of their show - especially, quote, "And from a fan of OFMD, no less!" Which got me thinking - it's true! I can abide a lot more historical costuming inaccuracy from Our Flag than I can Black Sails or Vikings. And I don't think it's just because one has my blorbos in it. But really, when it comes down to it...
What is the difference between this and this?
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Here's the thing. Leather pants in period dramas isn't new. You've got your Vikings, Tudors, Outlander, Pirates of the Caribbean, Once Upon a Time, Will, The Musketeers, even Shakespeare in Love - they love to shove people in leather and call it a day. But where does this come from?
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Obviously we have the modern connotations. Modern leather clothes developed in a few subcultures: cowboys drew on Native American clothing. (Allegedly. This is a little beyond my purview, I haven't seen any solid evidence, and it sounds like the kind of fact that people repeat a lot but is based on an assumption. I wouldn't know, though.) Leather was used in some WWI and II uniforms.
But the big boom came in the mid-C20th in motorcycle, punk/goth, and gay subcultures, all intertwined with each other and the above. Motorcyclists wear leather as practical protective gear, and it gets picked up by rock and punk artists as a symbol of counterculture, and transferred to movie designs. It gets wrapped up in gay and kink communities, with even more countercultural and taboo meanings. By the late C20th, leather has entered mainstream fashion, but it still carries those references to goths, punks, BDSM, and motorbike gangs, to James Dean, Marlon Brando, and Mick Jagger. This is whence we get our Spikes and Dave Listers in 1980s/90s media, bad boys and working-class punks.
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And some of the above "historical" design choices clearly build on these meanings. William Shakespeare is dressed in a black leather doublet to evoke the swaggering bad boy artist heartthrob, probably down on his luck. So is Kit Marlowe.
But the associations get a little fuzzier after that. Hook, with his eyeliner and jewellery, sure. King Henry, yeah, I see it. It's hideously ahistorical, but sure. But what about Jamie and Will and Ragnar, in their browns and shabby, battle-ready chic? Well, here we get the other strain of Bad Period Drama Leather.
See, designers like to point to history, but it's just not true. Leather armour, especially in the western/European world, is very, very rare, and not just because it decays faster than metal. (Yes, even in ancient Greece/Rome, despite many articles claiming that as the start of the leather armour trend!) It simply wasn't used a lot, because it's frankly useless at defending the body compared to metal. Leather was used as a backing for some splint armour pieces, and for belts, sheathes, and buckles, but it simply wasn't worn like the costumes above. It's heavy, uncomfortable, and hard to repair - it's simply not practical for a garment when you have perfectly comfortable, insulating, and widely available linen, wool, and cotton!
As far as I can see, the real influence on leather in period dramas is fantasy. Fantasy media has proliferated the idea of leather armour as the lightweight choice for rangers, elves, and rogues, a natural, quiet, flexible material, less flashy or restrictive than metal. And it is cheaper for a costume department to make, and easier for an actor to wear on set. It's in Dungeons and Dragons and Lord of the Rings, King Arthur, Runescape, and World of Warcraft.
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And I think this is how we get to characters like Ragnar and Vane. This idea of leather as practical gear and light armour, it's fantasy, but it has this lineage, behind which sits cowboy chaps and bomber/flight jackets. It's usually brown compared to the punk bad boy's black, less shiny, and more often piecemeal or decorated. In fact, there's a great distinction between the two Period Leather Modes within the same piece of media: Robin Hood (2006)! Compare the brooding, fascist-coded villain Guy of Gisborne with the shabby, bow-wielding, forest-dwelling Robin:
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So, back to the original question: What's the difference between Charles Vane in Black Sails, and Edward Teach in Our Flag Means Death?
Simply put, it's intention. There is nothing intentional about Vane's leather in Black Sails. It's not the only leather in the show, and it only says what all shabby period leather says, relying on the same tropes as fantasy armour: he's a bad boy and a fighter in workaday leather, poor, flexible, and practical. None of these connotations are based in reality or history, and they've been done countless times before. It's boring design, neither historically accurate nor particularly creative, but much the same as all the other shabby chic fighters on our screens. He has a broad lineage in Lord of the Rings and Pirates of the Caribbean and such, but that's it.
In Our Flag, however, the lineage is much, much more intentional. Ed is a direct homage to Mad Max, the costuming in which is both practical (Max is an ex-cop and road warrior), and draws on punk and kink designs to evoke a counterculture gone mad to the point of social breakdown, exploiting the thrill of the taboo to frighten and titillate the audience.
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In particular, Ed is styled after Max in the second movie, having lost his family, been badly injured, and watched the world turn into an apocalypse. He's a broken man, withdrawn, violent, and deliberately cutting himself off from others to avoid getting hurt again. The plot of Mad Max 2 is him learning to open up and help others, making himself vulnerable to more loss, but more human in the process.
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This ties directly into the themes of Our Flag - it's a deliberate intertext. Ed's emotional journey is also one from isolation and pain to vulnerability, community, and love. Mad Max (intentionally and unintentionally) explores themes of masculinity, violence, and power, while Max has become simplified in the popular imagination as a stoic, badass action hero rather than the more complex character he is, struggling with loss and humanity. Similarly, Our Flag explores masculinity, both textually (Stede is trying to build a less abusive pirate culture) and metatextually (the show champions complex, banal, and tender masculinities, especially when we're used to only seeing pirates in either gritty action movies or childish comedies).
Our Flag also draws on the specific countercultures of motorcycles, rockers, and gay/BDSM culture in its design and themes. Naturally, in such a queer show, one can't help but make the connection between leather pirates and leather daddies, and the design certainly nods at this, with its vests and studs. I always think about this guy, with his flat cap so reminiscient of gay leather fashions.
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More overtly, though, Blackbeard and his crew are styled as both violent gangsters and countercultural rockstars. They rove the seas like a bikie gang, free and violent, and are seen as icons, bad boys and celebrities. Other pirates revere Blackbeard and wish they could be on his crew, while civilians are awed by his reputation, desperate for juicy, gory details.
This isn't all of why I like the costuming in Our Flag Means Death (especially season 1). Stede's outfits are by no means accurate, but they're a lot more accurate than most pirate media, and they're bright and colourful, with accurate and delightful silks, lace, velvets, and brocades, and lovely, puffy skirts on his jackets. Many of the Revenge crew wear recognisable sailor's trousers, and practical but bright, varied gear that easily conveys personality and flair. There is a surprising dedication to little details, like changing Ed's trousers to fall-fronts for a historical feel, Izzy's puffy sleeves, the handmade fringe on Lucius's red jacket, or the increasing absurdity of navy uniform cuffs between Nigel and Chauncey.
A really big one is the fact that they don't shy away from historical footwear! In almost every example above, we see the period drama's obsession with putting men in skinny jeans and bucket-top boots, but not only does Stede wear his little red-heeled shoes with stockings, but most of his crew, and the ordinary people of Barbados, wear low boots or pumps, and even rough, masculine characters like Pete wear knee breeches and bright colours. It's inaccurate, but at least it's a new kind of inaccuracy, that builds much more on actual historical fashions, and eschews the shortcuts of other, grittier period dramas in favour of colour and personality.
But also. At least it fucking says something with its leather.
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hallwyeoo · 1 year
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Ellie’s memory of the golfing scene and what it tells us about her.
🚨spoilers for tlou2🚨
I think Ellie’s flashback to Joel’s death is very telling of how she internalized the event and the meaning she applied to his death. It’s also a good demonstration of her relationship to autonomy. Let’s break down the elements that were inconsistent with the actual event:
The stairs/hallway are much longer than they were. This suggests a sense of helplessness, an inability to get there fast enough. Joel is constantly out of reach.
There is blood on the floor outside of the door. Not entirely certain on this one but my hunch is that she blames herself for not seeing more obvious signs of violence/not knowing something was wrong sooner.
The door is locked, another roadblock in her path to Joel. She can’t access him, she can’t help, he needs her and she isn’t there.
Most importantly. Joel yells “Ellie, help me” (which he didn’t in the actual scene, he just screams. He doesn’t say a word in the actual scene)
Ellie hearing Joel scream for her help, calling for her while being horribly beaten, and her being repeatedly impeded on her way to him suggests that what she took away from his death is that she wasn’t enough. They always helped each other, always had each others backs, always got up. Ellie views his death as a failure. She was too slow, too weak, not smart enough to save him. She failed him when he needed her most. She is absolutely helpless to save him, just like she was helpless to save Riley, Tess, Sam, and Jessie (and Marlene, and humanity, and and and-).
Once again, Ellie makes a decision (staying with Riley, going to the fireflies, staying with Joel, being the cure, trying to forgive Joel) and once again her autonomy and ability to find closure is ripped from her.
This is the inciting incident of tlou pt2, this is the moment where Ellie’s whole world shatters the same way Joel’s did at the start of pt1. Ellie enters into the same cycle (which I like to call the “Joel cycle” because… yeah.) that he did, and throughout pt2 she stays in the “20 years later” phase of the cycle. She is changed, she has lost her light, lost what she fought for. She lost her chance to genuinely forgive Joel and rebuild their relationship. She is stuck in a gruelling and violent world that she has no anchor in, at least not anymore. His death is so sudden and so incredibly violent that it practically gave her (and me as well, tbh) whiplash. She’s in a state of total shock.
On another devastating note, this is one of the three times in tlou that we see Ellie beg (that I remember). The first is begging Joel to get up at the university of Eastern Colorado, the second is begging him to get up and for Abby to stop, and the third is begging Abby to not kill Dina because she’s pregnant. (Two times she begs Joel to get up, one time he doesn’t. Two times she begs Abby to spare her family and one time she does. What a beautifully haunting contrast)
To wrap up, every person creates an internal narrative, a story of their life that is crafted from their context and lived experiences. The meaning we derive from those experiences doesn’t always reflect the truth, and that can sometimes bite us in the ass majorly when we experience a traumatic event. We tend to want to find someone or something to assign blame to, some reason or rationale to why it happened. We tell stories. We write them in our minds about ourselves and what happens to us and what that says about us.
But Ellie is wrong. Joel’s death happened in response to a conscious and willing choice he made. It is in no way her fault, and there was absolutely no way for her to know or to stop what was happening. I think Ellie knows that much on an intellectual level, It just doesn’t change how devastated she is over the whole event. It can’t change the fact that she FEELS as though this was all her fault, that Joel did what he did to save her, that she could have saved him. That she should have.
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