#which I do understand but doesn't make it hurt less

[emblazons]

forewarning: this is the longest "this is mike's arc and I'm tired of denying it" breakdown i've done in a min (it's def about gay mike bar none so. skip if you want)

I keep reading posts about "where Mike is with his feelings for Will" all across the dash now, and...while I get the idea of wanting a Mike as devastated by not hearing from Will as Will was because Mike's aware he has romantic feelings, *Arya Stark Voice* that's not him?

In the show, Mike Wheeler wears his heart on his sleeve. He is prone to emotionality and doesn't really track his feelings within himself the way Will does—is "less interior," for a lack of a better phrase, which both plays dramatically into how things are playing out with both El and Will and makes it (dare I say it) out of character to believe he's as "hurt by his own hope" as Will is when it comes to mutual feelings.

Let me see if I can explain.

First: I think it's important to keep in mind that, at least with Mike, you get someone who will subconsciously act on "inner truths" before he even realizes they're true about him—and someone who will behave according to whatever external reality deems "correct" until he realizes 1) its bullshit or 2) its not true for him personally. We see this season over season:

First with how he willfully breaks rank with authority (his parents, the police, even the community) first to find Will and then again breaks rank with even his friends to protect Eleven in season 1

Then in S2 when he throws "proper" behavior to the wind (which is even slightly acknowledged in Will's 'don't tell the others' / 'crazy together) to be there for + lowkey confess the depth of his feelings to Will (everyone say thank you shed scene)

Again (though slightly different) in S3, with how there's this bubbling thing being gay he doesn't realize has started to manifest itself—cue that comment the duffer's made forever ago about S3 being about "the monster of puberty," aka when people start to understand their own attractions—until the very end of the season with how he realizes he's not attracted to El

And finally in S4, when he consciouslly knows for a fact he's not into El and tries to hide it—quite poorly, because, as I said, he can only abide a "lie" when he doesn't realize it is one—but hasn't yet realized that the thing bubbling up inside him THIS season (that keeps slipping out without him realizing it) is his attraction to/romantic feelings for Will.

In Season 4 especially, its easy to track how this "I can lie...until I know it is one" affects Mike's romantic prospects; we see plainly that his lying about his feelings to El during the monologue was a failure because the power of Mike's whole character is rooted in the importance of him being true to himself and his heart. Season over season, we've seen that Mike has to be honest with people once he knows what he feels in order for his leadership to be effective—and by S4, he knows he doesn't love El romantically (+ has known for a HOT minute, aka since his little S3 post-kiss revelation)—which is why he tries to skirt around the issue with that "I care for you so much" rather than lie to El's face about his lack of romantic feelings.

Basically: once Mike consciously knows something is not right in either the world or inside himself, he has to act on it...or suffer the consequences of his lack of honesty. But then....what does that have to do with him not being the one "not trying to be in love" with Will?

Despite the fandom urge to deny it even in the wake of The Duffers and Finn Wolfhard themselves telling them it's true: Mike being oblivious to his own feelings, or at least consciously unaware, of his own romantic feelings for Will is a solid amount of what's driving his character's growth right now. Mike "friends don't lie" Wheeler has spent the entirety of this show trying to be as honest as possible with the people around him, and we've clearly seen as of S4 what happens when he isn't honest—the world (quite literally) falls apart.

When it comes to his romantic arc especially, it's important to remember this is true, because it means, through logical deduction, that Mike isn't hiding the fact that he has feelings for Will throughout season 4—he's hiding the fact that he's not in love with his girlfriend the way he's supposed to be, which both plays into the whole forced conforming through-line of the season and explains the crux of his narrative even as we are primarily shown that experience through Will's eyes—unreliable as they are. The thing leaking out of Mike without his knowledge is the fact that he likes boys—but the thing he's consciously hiding and lying about is the fact that he doesn't like girls the way he knows he's supposed to.

Now: does that mean he doesn't have a million subconscious responses to things regarding Will—one's rooted both in his attraction to men and his friendly/romantic/evolving feelings for him? Absolutely not. Half of what drives Mike's S4 narrative was built into his wordless/subconscious actions throughout S3, from the way we see him look disgusted with girls when they're mentioned, the way he take's El's hands off him when she tries to kiss him, and even the way he looks conflicted by her kiss at the very end of the season. Just because Mike is consciously unaware that something is happening to him doesn't mean the thing isn't happening—it just means that Mike himself is oblivious to it.

Even so: Mike being oblivious to the fact that he's attracted to men/in love with Will means he isn't consciously trying to keep himself away from Will—which is clear, if you pay attention to every moment before he gets guilted into remembering he has a GF by Argyle.

Basically, the crux of Mike's own experience with his problems is—

"I don't love El the way I'm supposed to, and it's going to cause problems if I can't do that for everyone I care for,"

not

"I am trying to hide my feelings for boys/Will and have to pretend they aren't there to be normal."

—which is a subtle but critical distinction in understanding both where he is by the end of S4 and where he's headed moving into S5.

Now: I get that it's more fun to imagine a Mike fighting his feelings for Will consciously throughout S4, but....that's Will's story and experience of his feelings, not Mike's. Mike is fighting with his lack of attraction to women more than his attraction to men/Will—which is also why you see it slip out so much despite the time/era/what he knows of what happens to gay men in Hawkins.

If Mike knew he loved Will/boys consciously, he'd be much more afraid of himself and Will than he is even as of the last shot of S4—but he's not, which is shockingly telling if you consider how he already knows what he doesn't feel for Eleven. Once he does know what he feels—his "a-ha" moment about liking Will, the same as his consciously realizing he didn't love El "like that" as of end of S3—it will be impossible for him not to address it in himself...and finally be honest/undo the damage of The Lie he told El (he loved her) during the monologue.

That's the (canonical) trajectory of Mike "The Heart" Wheeler—and why him being oblivious to his feelings for Will, not just "secretly longing without wanting to indulge hope he might have the boy he loves" the way Will is experiencing moving into S5. 🤷🏽‍♀️

[whumpitisthen]

Whumper who is part of the team 💞

I left a bit of a tag dump on a largely unrelated post about how much I adore Whumper who is part of the good guy team, and I have decided to make a post about it as the more I think about this concept the less normal I become so here it is

Whumper is part of the team, but everyone knows to be wary of them

Although they are dangerous, scary and even sadistic at times, everyone agrees that having their power and intelligence on our side is much better than to have them be on the enemy team instead

Because of what they bring to the team — and also because everyone is a little scared of them — Whumper's faults are a little easier tolerated than other teammates', and a young Whumpee who always gets in trouble and hasn't really had the time to get to know Whumper might find this blatant favouritism a little frustrating

Whumper also doesn't have to train all the time, or be present for strategy briefings, or to even really go out on missions with the team. They are always on their own, left to do their own thing, go on special, dangerous missions and the rest of the plan the team must follow tends to center around Whumper

A rookie Whumpee may be annoyed that Whumper gets to do all that, they may become curious of what Whumper really does, or even start idolising Whumper, because they are clearly so strong and smart and trusted, they must be so cool. They probably should not do any of that.

Nobody bothers Whumper when they're in a bad mood. Nobody enters Whumper's room under any circumstances, especially not alone. Nobody shall mention "the previous Whumpee" around Whumper. If Whumper is in a strange, unsettling mood, and seems a bit too friendly and interested in you specifically, you excuse yourself and make a swift escape from the situation. Call Leader if Whumper won't leave you alone. These, and many more rules are set in stone at HQ, and Whumpee is more than a little terrified of Whumper every time they learn of another weird unspoken rule that everyone knows to follow

Whumper loves rookies, and tends to play up their mysterious, dangerous persona in front of them for fun. A disgruntled Medic bumbles something about not letting Whumper get to them, but Whumpee has been sufficiently got to already, staring at Whumper with wide eyes

For whatever reason, Whumper and Whumpee are on a solo mission together. Whumpee is intimidated by Whumper, a little scared that they will follow up on a threat or insinuation they had made before about hurting them, but what actually happens is that Whumpee gets to witness first-hand the brutal efficiency and cruelty with which Whumper works, watching as they tear through the problem effortlessly, mowing through an operation that would have taken the rest of the team a whole week and careful planning to succeed at. Whumper tells them this was just a small favour, nothing major. They finally start understanding Whumper, and why they are such an important part of the team

Whumper leaves for a while, and Whumpee's first time hearing about them is through a desperate team begging them to come back when they face an unkillable, unspeakably powerful threat that they tried and failed to stop. Whumper shows up last minute, and fixes the issue in the snap of a finger with a smile on their face, mentioning how Leader could've just told them how much they missed them and they would've come back

The absolute, horrid carnage Whumper leaves after 'fixing' the team's issue leaves the whole team speechless, suddenly reminded in a massive, unbelievable show of strength and cruelty of just how powerful Whumper truly is. Whumpee has a lot of questions about Whumper for the team after that, namely: who the hell was that?; what the hell did they just do?; and oh my god, what the fuck?

After days of missing, Whumpee is found in Whumper's room tied to a chair, evidently kept there and tortured. Whumpee is so glad to have been found, yelling about how Whumper has always been so weird and unsettling, and how they bullied them and abused them all the time, and how they can't wait for them to be gone, but Medic has to tell them with an aching heart as they fix up their countless injuries that they always knew Whumper hurt them, and that they can't do much about it. Not even Leader can get them to behave without fucking up the system they have in place, and they simply can't afford to do that to the entire rest of the team. The best Whumpee can do is avoid them, or leave the team altogether — but Whumper might go catch them again if they try.

Whenever the team fails to interrogate someone, Whumper is sent in. They are always successful. Whumpee is sent down to ask if Whumper found out what they need to know, and is horrified by the state of the prisoner. Even worse, once they hear everything they need to know, Whumper ushers them out, ready to continue the torture. Whumpee innocently asks them what for if they already know everything they need to, and Whumper pauses to grin at them and ask if they want to join and see.

For a more found family type team: Whumper joins the dinner table for the first time. Everyone falls quiet. Or alternatively: Whumper stops having dinner with them. Whumpee grows concerned and brings a plateful up to Whumper's room. They do not appreciate it as much a Whumpee thought they would. This can go in so many different directions from soft fluff to just horrible awful times

Whumper reminds Leader of how voluntary their subordinacy is by roughing them or a teammate up a bit and showing them how helpless they would be if they decided to get on Whumper's bad side

Whumper is Leader.

Whumper is Medic

Whumper is indesposable

A hostage taken from the enemy confesses to how badly Whumper hurt their own teammates all the time, and shows some very nasty scars Whumper left on them too. The team is horrified

Whumper has something to hide, so they don't let their ex teammate spill anything, killing them before they can, or shutting them up any time they try

Whumper has nothing to hide, and listens with a grin as all their past cruelty is brought forth again. As if the team that they work for wouldn't already be more than aware of all that and more. Well if they weren't, now they can add all that to the list filled with their more recent cruelties

Whumper "accidentally" hurting Whumpee all the time. Whumpee is intimidated into not saying anything about what's really going on

Whumper slowly softening up to their new wholesome team. They can eventually grow fond enough to not be a colossal asshole to them all the time. Or they could go more in the "if anyone but me dares to hurt these idiots, there will be hell to pay" direction

Whumper is a cat. They claw at kind hands for no reason, they get the zoomies and cause chaos, they need to be fed on time or they become pissy, if they fall asleep on top of someone that someone will simply have to stay deathly still and wait for them to wake up because Whumper hates being woken up and once or twice a month they bring home half alive prey they caught to show off and play with. They also purr. If i have anything to say about it

They aren't close at all with the rest of the team yet. Whumper being here is a new thing. Everyone is on edge. It is unpleasant to share a room with this fucking maniac. Their eyes find teammates who they have history with, lingering on scars, or even fresh wounds hidden under clothes that they know fully well will never fade. Their smile is knowing and spiteful

"Does it hurt still? The cut I gave you? I remember how you screamed; it must ache still. How lucky that we are on the same team now, wouldn't you agree?"

No one knows Whumper at all. They are like a ghost. They show up, they do their job, they disappear. One day, Whumper stumbles into Medic's, and wordlessly climbs onto the table. Medic fixes them up with as few words as possible, and after a long, uncomfortable stare from Whumper, agrees to never say a single word about this to anyone

Whumper is a fighter. They live for the battlefield, having a little too much fun mowing down hordes of people. This is Whumpee's first time seeing them in action, and they can't help looking away right before Whumper crushes a defenseless, already incapacitated enemy's skull under their boot

Whumper knows the team way way way too well. They did stalk them for years before they joined. They know just how to get under their skin, and it's both infuriating and terrifying

Anyone who tries to break in at the dead of night answers to Whumper. The rest of the team may not even find out about the spy who tried to infiltrate them for a couple weeks, before Whumper decides to offhandedly mention that they have a hostage in their room and they are ready to talk

Here's the unhinged tags that inspired this if anyone wants to see

Masterlist | Ko-fi

[gale-gentlepenguin]

Throwing this in asks instead of a reblog so you can not have it hanging off your post if you don't want it.

Re:Curse on Marinette

It's only a curse because of Marinette's own flaws(which, if acknowledged is excellent for a narrative) See, it's only a curse because just like Gabe she sees Adrien as a special porcelain object, to be handled and admired, but still an object.

Marinette is very *different* from Gabe in execution at the moment, but with the narrative claiming Gabriel really loved him... The parallels grow. Gabriel is just Marinette further down the same path. Yes she gave Adrien back control of himself, but she's got plenty of time to change her mind if she continues down the Gabriel road. 'Adrien needs to be protected' is denying autonomy in silk-wrapped terms.

Will knowing the truth hurt Adrien? Yeah, of course. The healthy thing to do is tell him and then *be there to support him* as he works through his reactions to it.

This is the same Adrien who with care, patience, and kindness supported Marinette through her trauma-recovery in season 5. This guy, this is the one who is 'too fragile'? What does that make her?

This isn't directed at you personally, just addressing the narrative setup broadly and the reads that doesn't seem to quite fathom what they are suggesting.

I understand where you are coming from… but I disagree.

I think it’s less about Marinette viewing Adrien as porcelain and more like

“What person would not have a complete mental break after learning all of this?” Not to mention the potential magical shenanigans that comes into play here.

Marinette, a 14 year old girl is forced into a situation that any individual would find IMMENSELY FUCKED UP. There is no easy way of telling a person that everything they know is a lie and that their existence resulted in the deaths of his parents. Flaws or not.

Not to mention, there are other people that could tell Adrien these facts but don’t have this level of emotional trauma and blackmail to deal with. Such as Nathalie.

Marinette is a victim here. And WILL be receiving all of the blame for s*** completely out of her control.

Now don’t misunderstand. I ABSOLUTELY HATE everything about this. Gabriel is a monster for this. It’s TERRIBLE Writing. (It can be saved if handled correctly, but I have reasonable doubt).

But the one thing I can’t do is blame Marinette. Because there are others that could better handle this, but because she is Ladybug it’s all on her.

[crownmemes]

Advice Sentences

(Sentences to send to muses that need a little advice. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Life never turns out the way you think it will."

"There's no such thing as forgiveness. People just have short memories."

"It never hurts to try and see ourselves as others do."

"If you insist on living a dream, you may be taken for mad."

"There are always repercussions for failing; the key is to adapt before they arrive."

"To kill the snake, you have to cut off its head."

"You must strive to find your own voice, because the longer you wait to begin, the less likely you are to find it at all."

"Do as I say, not as I do."

"There's a thin line between obligation and obsession."

"No game is worth playing if you can't win."

"If you make a mess on your own doorstep, you're bound to slip on it."

"None of us go on forever."

"You can't win them all."

"There are always unintended consequences to everything we do."

"No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world."

"If there's one thing I've learnt, it's you can't run away from your own life."

"A lie is most convincingly hidden between two truths."

"Every choice you make has a consequence in the future. One wrong choice and you lose."

"We all have a great need for acceptance, but you must trust that your beliefs are unique - your own - even though others may think them odd or unpopular."

"You were out of line today."

"Don't do anything rash."

"There's a time for daring, and there's a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for."

"Don't ask a question you don't want to know the answer to."

"Eccentrics are only tolerated so long as they come up with the goods."

"There's no point in fighting battles you can't win."

"Nothing makes a smart man stupid like a thirst for vengeance."

"Nobody gets rich on their own money."

"My advice? Don't dwell on that man's petty deceptions."

"You want my advice? Never sleep with someone you work with."

"Just a quick tip; you never want to block a punch with your face."

"To truly defeat an enemy, you must know him better than yourself."

"Your reputation won't last if you don't do your job!"

"If you live the lie long enough, you become the lie."

"Sucking the marrow out of life doesn't mean choking on the bone."

"Out of order is no good to anyone. Out of step is much better. That way, you tread on the bits the other people miss."

[archie-sunshine]

sorry i love thinking about rodimus and drift's relationship and all it's complexities.

because like. it's not healthy. in the slightest. rodimus is actively using drift to justify his more negative behaviours. he literally talks about how he doesn't listen to either magnus or drift because one is too negative and one it too positive so he ends up being able to do what he wants.

there's also that one scene in the shadowplay arc where it's implied he starts calling drift slurs if he doesn't pick up his phone fast enough.

this scene btw

like obviously rodimus could be calling him anything but considering drift literally ends that statement with "anyways, let's move on" it's probably not the nicest thing. which is not indicative of a healthy friendship

but the thing is it kinda goes both ways. the lost light is a ship away from the rest of cybertron, drift is able to put some amount of distance between himself and his past and there's a sort of buffer that likely comes from being around rodimus

cause like. the thing is. drift isn't some sort of hippy chill guy. that's an act he puts on for everyone else. like he's still spiritual, that's a big aspect of his character, but he's still very much a morally grey guy. he's shown to have zero issues with throwing himself headlong into combat. there's one scene where he literally gets pissy at rodimus for kill stealing him

and in the sound of breaking glass which is the in between scene after the tyrest arc, we learn that drift doesn't leave for rodimus' reputation or his sake, he leaves for the rest of the crew.

quote

"When I put this sword through my spark, I saw something."

"What, like a vision?"

"Kind of. More a sense of how thing would play out. It was abstract and it was fleeting, and every time I call it to mind it becomes harder to interpret, but something is around the corner, Rodimus - and a year from now, or 50 years from now, that something will arrive, and we won't be able to stop it unless we find the Knights. And I don't care if you thin, 'Oh that's just Drift being Drift,' because I'm convinced that you need to remain in charge. People can come and go - they can die - but you have to be here, otherwise we will fail. And so the simple the solution - the only solution - is that I take the blame for this."

"I won't let you do this for me."

"I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for everyone else."

End quote.

i don't know. i feel like this conversation is really important to understanding drift and rodimus' friendship that a lot of people miss because sometimes they don't read the interlude's.

drift and rodimus are not a healthy friendship but neither of them are actively trying to hurt the other. it's a mutually destructive relationship not just rodimus trying to take advantage of drift while drift is blissfully ignorant. (i really hate how people woobify drift. he's not some uwu spiritual hippy who is ignorant of how bad of a person he is. he's putting on a persona for everyone else to make them more comfortable around him, even if it makes him miserable and/or devalues him as a person in the eyes of others. that's why ratchet is good for him, because he doesn't care. he likes drift for drift.)

and that's a thing a lot of people seem to misunderstand about rodimus. he's not like, willfully ignorant. he's painfully aware of how badly he's fucked up on so many levels. that's a key aspect of his character arc. he recognises that he needs to grow and change

anyways hopefully this doesn't come off as annoying. i just really like thinking about the characters in mtmte and i think that a lot of people tend to conflate a lot of fandom personalities with the canon ones. something something, that every 3 months people should have to reread the source material

I have said this to literally everyone i've asked to read mtmte, and i will say it again:

RODIMUS STRAIGHT UP SUCKS.

LIKE FOR A REALLY REALLY LONG TIME.

The whole point of the story is that rodimus is a less than great guy who demands too much of people, disregards them, uses them, etc. and then he LEARNS. through having a thousand rocks thrown at him! that he needs to stop sucking!!!

They both enable each other's worst qualities. they are FULLY bad for each other. I have a soft spot for that kind of thing sometimes.

... BEFORE they go through their own separate character arcs.

I agree with everything you've laid out, because you ARE right, however, I argue personally that POST CANON driftrod can be healthy. I have a whole fix it fic planned about it, i believe they should kiss, etc etc

Like i'm a driftrod defender and i can say for certain that their initial friendship is very very bad for both of them, but I can SEE the POTENTIAL of them both growing as people, having to do that separately, and being able to come back together happily.

BUT GENUINELY PLEASE DONT FIGHT ME ABOUT STUFF LIKE THIS IM SCARED I DONT WANT TO BE INVOLVED IN SHIP WARS-

[twpsyn-who]

I'm going into 2023 with the next goals and fuck my life if I don't achieve them :

- Find someone to go with me to the Palaye Royale's concert and fucking have fun at my first concert ever

- Buy my own place cuz staying with rent is shitty and makes me wanna d i e

- FINALLY meet with my "too busy with life" friends because I'm a lonely bitch and the last thing I want is to have my ex as the only friend available in my life

- Buy at least one more plushie (cuz this year I tried to stop myself from getting them and now I'm sad)

[incesthemes]

as i've rewatched seasons 1 and 2 of supernatural i've been pondering and hypothesizing reasons why john was so adamant on not letting sam know about his destiny. why he was so intent on keeping this secret, why he didn't want sam knowing about monsters, why his role in their hunts appeared to be research-oriented and thus away from the action. my perspective on ignorance and censorship is that it enables further harm, so if john were going to effectively protect sam, it would stand to reason that sam should have a comprehensive understanding of his destiny and what he's up against: give him the tools to fight.

this is obviously not the route john went, so then i have to question why that is—what about censorship was so appealing to him that he thought it not only the best way to keep sam safe, but perhaps even the only way to keep him safe, based on how he begged even dean to keep sam's fate a secret from him in his final words?

so i got to thinking. namely, about the fact that azazel wants sam to be hunting: he killed jessica with the intent to drag him back into the life, which implies that if sam is hunting, he is going down the path azazel wants him to go—he's following his destiny. this aligns with the everpresent theme throughout season 1 that hunting is a monstrous lifestyle, that hunting turns people into monsters. if sam is destined to become a monster, then hunting is the most sure-fire way to get him there.

if azazel wants sam to hunt, then john would need to take the logical opposition and keep sam out of hunting—so, he wouldn't tell sam about monsters until he has to, he'd give sam more passive roles once sam is participating in hunts, he'd train sam in self-defense but not explain why. and importantly, he wouldn't talk about mary, who is the root cause of this lifestyle, the impetus for their revenge quest, more than he has to. if the goal is to keep sam as far away from hunting as possible, and if john is someone who thinks ignorance keeps someone safe, then this more or less explains most of how sam was raised: on the fringes of the family, excluded and sheltered.

but weirdly enough, it wasn't until i was reading east of eden the other night that i finally understood the perspective being presented: late in the novel, the character lee says "when the first innocence is gone, you can't stop."

it made me remember that sam picks. he is a character who wants to understand the world around him and his place in it. if something is bothering him, he turns it over in his head until it consumes him. dean places doubt in sam's head in 2x10 and it obliterates him by 2x11. he's convinced he's going to become some horrible monster because he never stops thinking and trying to figure things out. when his memory is wiped in 4x17 and normal guy sam wesson finds out his coworker is the guy from his weird dreams, he pursues him relentlessly until they're back hunting. when he discovers the wall death put in his mind to keep his hell trauma out in season 6, he pushes and can't stop until it starts crumbling around him. he's intelligent and clever and he wants to know everything. and when he doesn't know, he picks.

and the only way to stop a person like that from picking is to not let them know that there's something to pick at in the first place. that's what the quote from east of eden means: once you catch wind of something, you want to pursue it until you're satisfied. curiosity kills the cat.

and what john is up against is fate itself. something that isn't supposed to be messed with, something that's supposed to be unavoidable. so trying to thwart it is tricky business. he has to be careful.

i think working under that logic his response makes sense, even if it wound up being a self-fulfilling prophecy anyway—sam was always going to find out, and sam was always going to pick. there was nothing john could do in the end to stop it, and trying to keep sam ignorant only made him that much more desperate to know. but that's the great tragedy of it all: john was given an impossible choice, and he's a deeply flawed character. he did what he thought was best, and it only made things worse.

i like this interpretation because it ties all of john's choices together really well; it explains a lot about his character and gives a nuanced and rather reasonable explanation for why he did what he did: a dad who wants the best for his kid does what he believes will set him up on the path to success. when the first innocence is gone, you can't stop—so john does his damnedest to keep sam innocent, even to his dying breath.

the problem comes down to that someone's damnedest isn't always good enough, and that sometimes someone's damnedest ends up benefiting the enemy instead.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

[pericky; a look into ricky's head during their meeting.]

---

"I'm glad you came, I wasn't sure you would." The wine pours, the sound of it drowning out the missing word in that sentence: back.

Of course, is the response, and the part of Ricky that's spent twenty years tearing itself apart to understand why vibrates with relief. It doesn't matter anymore. Of course, of course, he thinks giddily along with the words. He never needed to wonder why Pericles wasn't coming back in the first place; he was always going to.

I'm happy you invited me, and of course he thinks again. A lifetime of pretending he wasn't always going to either falls away. However harsh and lonely the world has been, all's right with it again; and the shy voice of the boy inside him that he's tried so hard to kill says, so quietly, I missed you.

[specialagentartemis]

I would argue that to my recollection Murderbot in fact does not do a single on-page murder until Network Effect.  “These people are actively trying to kill me so I have to kill them back to protect myself/my clients/my friends” doesn’t count as “murder.”  Only in NE does it join its noble predecessors GLaDOS, Hera, and Breq in Actual Revenge Murder

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[soy-sauce-and-mothra]

Hey! Are there blacksmiths in your story? I'm a hobbyist blacksmith and I'm here to help!

Blacksmithing is one of those things that a lot of people get wrong because they don't realize it stuck around past the advent of the assembly line. Here's a list of some common misconceptions I see and what to do instead!

Not all blacksmiths are gigantic terrifying muscly guys with beards and deep voices. I am 5'8, skinny as a twig, have the muscle mass of wet bread, and exist on Tumblr. Anybody who is strong enough to pick up a hammer and understands fire safety can be a blacksmith.

You can make more than just swords with blacksmithing. Though swords are undeniably practical, they're not the only things that can be made. I've made candle holders, wall hooks, kebab skewers, fire pokers, and more. Look up things other people have made, it's really amazing what can be done.

"Red-hot" is actually not that hot by blacksmith terms. when heated up, the metal goes from black, to red, to orange, to yellow, to white. (for temperature reference, I got a second degree burn from picking up a piece of metal on black heat) The ideal color to work with the metal is yellow. White is not ideal at all, because the metal starts sparking and gets all weird and lumpy when it cools. (At no point in this process does the metal get even close to melting. It gets soft enough to work with, but I have never once seen metal become a liquid.)

Blacksmithing takes fucking forever. Not even taking into account starting the forge, selecting and preparing metal, etc. etc. it takes me around an hour to make one (1) fancy skewer. The metals blacksmiths work with heat up and cool down incredibly fast. When the forge is going good, it only takes like 20 seconds to get your metal hot enough to work with, but it takes about the same time for it to cool down, sometimes even less.

As long as you are careful, it is actually stupidly easy to not get hurt while blacksmithing. When I picked up this hobby I was like "okay, cool! I'm gonna make stuff, and I'm gonna end up in the hospital at some point!" Thus far, the latter has yet to occur. I've been doing this for nearly a year. I have earned myself a new scar from the aforementioned second degree burn, and one singe mark on my jeans. I don't even wear gloves half the time. Literally just eye protection, common sense, and fast reflexes and you'll probably be fine. (Accidents still happen of course, but I have found adequate safety weirdly easy to achieve with this hobby)

A forge is not a fire. The forge is the thing blacksmiths put their metal in to heat it up. It starts as a small fire, usually with newspaper or something else that's relatively small and burns easily, which we then put in the forge itself, which is sort of a fireplace-esque thing (there's a lot of different types of forge, look into it and try to figure out what sort of forge would make the most sense for the context you're writing about) and we cover it with coal, which then catches fire and heats up. The forge gets really hot, and sometimes really bright. Sometimes when I stare at the forge for too long it's like staring into the sun. The forge is also not a waterfall of lava, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Welding and blacksmithing are not the same thing. They often go hand-in-hand, but you cannot connected two pieces of metal with traditional blacksmithing alone. There is something called forge welding, where you heat your metal, sprinkle borax (or the in-universe equivalent) on it to prevent the metal from oxidizing/being non-weldable, and hammer the pieces together very quickly. Forge welding also sends sparks flying everywhere, and if you're working in a small space with other blacksmiths, you usually want to announce that you're welding before you do, so that everyone in a five-foot radius can get out of that five-foot radius. You also cannot just stuck some random pebbles into the forge and get a decent piece of metal that you can actually make something with, Steven Universe. It doesn't work like that, Steven Universe.

Anvils are really fucking heavy. Nothing else to add here.

Making jewelry is not a blacksmithing thing unless you want jewelry made of steel. And it will be very ugly if you try. Blacksmithing wasn't invented to make small things.

If there's anything here I didn't mention, just ask and I'll do my best to answer.

[viosjaan]

.

[primofate]

"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left

Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts

Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  

Aether

gets flustered

"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."

he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?

Starts to second guess if he really gave you that

Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment

Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark

"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"

Albedo

stares at it for the longest time.

There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.

Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever

"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"

Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it

Brews about a 100 of 'em

Alhaitham

Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye

"I'd advise you to hide it,"

he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out

but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you

"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."

He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.

"...I best be going now."

He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.

Ayato

chuckles to himself

"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"

but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.

Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"

You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.

Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"

Cyno

is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.

Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.

Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind

Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...

Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.

"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."

You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding

Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.

Dainsleif

Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.

Points it out immediately

"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.

"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...

"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"

Diluc

is surprised, then apologetic

He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night

Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.

"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"

Is seriously considering repenting about it

Itto

"Whoa--"

Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers

"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully

No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say

"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"

You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment

Kaeya

smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.

"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"

winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.

"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"

is only half joking

Lyney

mischievous laugh

is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic

"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling

"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"

Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"

always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.

Neuvillette

clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water

"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.

"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.

"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"

points it out by gently thumbing at it

Scaramouche

shit-eating grin at the sight of it

Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.

"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now

but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"

Tartaglia

laughs but is slightly apologetic

"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.

"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"

I think you know what or where he's thinking about

Tighnari

Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.

"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"

He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously

He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"

He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.

"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.

Wriothesley

laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards

Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically

"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms

Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"

Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.

"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"

Xiao

Freezes while looking at it

For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.

"...Y/N..."

seriously does not know what to say

stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"

You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.

Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"

Zhongli

chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.

"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"

he again chuckles as he explains.

"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"

brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it

End

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[nereidprinc3ss]

you know the killer doesn't understand

in which spencer is so terrified he's going to hurt you after he gets out of prison that he can barely touch you. an argument ensues.

angst (+ comfort) warnings/tags: established relationship, fem!reader, mentions of violent intrusive thoughts (non-specific), arguing, yelling, use of the word rape, nightmares, happyish ending, mention of showering together, it's a bad time but it's also a good time for us woo i love angsty angst a/n: i miss posting for real so bad i dug up this draft which was mostly finished and polished it up. i think i really like this one and it was based on a request but i lost it:( i hope u guys enjoy this, pls lmk<3

Spencer is by no means happy with his sudden fear of touching you—it makes everything in his life significantly harder and less convenient and he hates that he’s constantly afraid he’s going to break you. He hates watching you hold back from attacking him with a hug when he enters a room like you used to, and he feels terrible every time you ball up on the opposite side of the couch as he reads, waiting for an invitation into his lap but too scared to ask for one (he’ll always hold out his arm for you, though—he’s not cruel.)

You’re adorable in the way you stand at the foot of the bed in your pajamas, arms behind your back like it’s not your bed too, but it makes him feel terrible. This isn’t at all what he wanted for you, and in all honestly he’s thought about ending the relationship because he knows he’s being an absolutely awful partner—but he just can’t bring himself to. Instead, he gestures for you to get into bed, and you curl up under the covers close to him but not against him, and he’ll play with your hair and read for a while because he can’t sleep very well. Eventually he’ll assume the position of sleep, but some sick part of him doesn’t know what to do with the sounds of the city and the fan instead of the sounds of a hundred men rolling and sniffing and shuffling around their echoey cells. He doesn’t understand warmth anymore, or softness, or nice pajamas or fluffy pillows. He’s starting to think he doesn’t understand you. And that’s the worst thought of all. 

So he essentially dozes for the first week, on and off, always exhausted in the mornings but what’s new. When he can’t sleep, he turns his head to watch you breathe—some beautiful, sweet creature dreaming in his bed, unwaveringly loyal to him even though he can hardly stand to touch you for fuck’s sake. You’re beautiful, and it makes him feel better to watch you, even if he can’t touch you. Not now that he knows what he is capable of doing to another person. What if he has some sort of PTSD—PTSS, thank you, Luke Alvez—induced dream and does something terrible to you in his sleep? It’s not like you’re tiny, but he’s stronger, he knows he is, and lately every time you get too close he remembers exactly what it feels like to exert the full force of that strength, and what it feels like when someone else unleashes their own onto him. 

They’re just intrusive thoughts, and in them he doesn’t hurt you intentionally, but he always feels a little bit sick now. He is so, so sick. A bull in a China shop. Spencer knows exactly how breakable humans are—it’s his job to know. If he left so much as one red mark on you by accident, he’s quite sure he’d drill down to a previously unknown rock bottom. And if he reaches that point, he doesn’t know if he’d ever deserve to come back. 

Every day it seems to become clearer that the only humane thing to do is break up with you. But for now he’ll watch you sleep—the delicate rising and falling of your chest, the way you curl in on yourself because you can’t curl into him. In sleep you look so peaceful and content. You never look that way awake, anymore. Not when he’s around, which is pretty much always. At least he can’t disappoint you while you’re asleep. 

Or so he’d like to think. 

Until one night, about a week and a half after he gets home; you whimper in your sleep. It’s so quiet he could’ve missed it, but he doesn’t, and then he watches your smooth brow furrow with worry and he knows you’re having a nightmare immediately. 

Spencer panics—before, he would have woken you up and held you and comforted you until you fell back asleep and it would have been so simple. Now he’s frozen, afraid to touch you but not sure if he can just lie there watching you so afraid and not do a thing about it. 

In the end, you choose for him—and it only takes a few moments. You’re close enough to him that it’s easy for you to close the few inches even in sleep, and maybe you’re slightly conscious but not enough to remember you’re not supposed to touch him. 

He stops breathing as you fold yourself against him, muttering worried nonsense—he catches his name, once—nestling against his chest, one searching arm gently draping over his waist. Every muscle in his body is rigid, and his thoughts—his mind goes… completely fucking blank. 

Suddenly, all he’s known, all he’s ever known, is the smell of your hair, the warmth of you seeping through layers of clothing, and the weight of your arm over him. Everything he ever was ceases to exist, and he’s just this, right now. The person you’d turned to unconsciously for comfort, so sure, so trusting that he would keep you safe. He can feel your breath for the first time in months. Slowly every tense muscle unspools. For the first time in a long time he doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like his entire body is spring loaded and ready to attack at the slightest provocation. Spencer allows himself to hold you, and part of it feels like betrayal because he knows how badly you need this from him while you’re awake but mostly he feels like he could cry. His thumb rubs circles into the middle of your back and your head tucks so perfectly under his chin while he studies the rumpled sheets where you’d been lying a moment ago. He almost feels like sticking his tongue out to gloat at your half of the mattress—haha, look who gets to hold her now—but instead he sighs, shakily, and squeezes his eyes shut. 

You don’t make another sound for hours. 

He’s reluctant to let you go when you begin to stir around six AM, but forcibly holding onto you is so far from what he wants to do that he manages. You roll back over to your own side of the bed, and he continues admiring you from afar until he falls asleep. It’s the best three hours of sleep he’s had in a very long time. 

Of course, you don’t remember it. When you wake up your sadness resumes, and so does the pretending like you’re not sad, but you’re a very good sport—and it helps that he’s feeling much better this morning than he has since he got back. 

“Good morning,” you whisper faintly, still blinking as you watch him longingly from your spot. 

Spencer pushes himself up onto an elbow, and you watch with big eyes as he leans over you, stroking your cheek with his free hand. 

“Good morning. You sleep okay?”

Your brow flickers, and he realizes it’s not a question he asks every morning, and you’re probably distracted by this overt display of affection, but you answer it obediently anyway. 

“I think so. I had weird dreams.”

He hums. 

“About what?”

It’s quiet for a moment as he takes in the exact spattering of microscopically fractured pigment over your irises. Your voice is small when you finally speak. 

“Do I have to tell you?”

That hurts. 

“No. But it might help.”

Coming from him? Ironic doesn’t even begin to cover it. 

You acknowledge him with a small hum of your own, studying him with soft, mistrustful eyes. 

He can’t help it anymore—Spencer leans down and gently kisses you, so tenderly, so chastely, it makes his own head spin. He hasn’t kissed you like that since you picked him up from Milburn. It’s long overdue. 

Which is why he’s not expecting you to start crying. He pulls back immediately, not far, just enough to assess your expression. 

“What’s this? What’s wrong, angel?” He frowns. Your lip quivers in a way that feels like a blow to the chest. 

“That’s not… you’re…”

“What? What is it?”

A fat tear finally traces a path down your cheek and when you speak your voice breaks in the most fragile, devastating way. 

“You’re not being fair.”

He has no neat question to summarize all the bafflement your accusation inspires in his lately cloudy head, but the wildly confused look on his face must be prompt enough.

“I’m trying really hard to respect your space and boundaries and not upset you but my feelings are hurt, Spencer, I don’t know how they couldn’t be. I feel like you don’t even like me anymore. I’m embarrassed around you because I feel like I care about you so much more than you care about me. And then you—and then you wake up one morning and you think it’s okay to act like you love me again but I can’t—I c—” you stop, obviously frustrated—now crying in earnest and lacking the words. “You can’t be mean to me. I know you’ve been through a lot and I’m sorry but you can’t treat me like that. I’m a person, too.”

His chest aches and he swallows down barbed wire.

“I’m not acting like I love you. I do love you. More than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything in my life. That’s not an act.”

It’s not an adequate response, but your words are still spinning in his head until he can’t keep up with them. He’s not used to this, anymore. The language you two had developed is so foreign now. 

Maybe he just doesn’t know how to talk to you. 

Resignation—a too-calm recognition softens the stormy look that has brewed on your face. As soon as it’s gone, and you’re looking at him placidly, he realizes he’s afraid. 

“Well, that’s not enough,” you whisper. 

Spencer feels like he’s been shot as you push the covers aside and slip out of bed. And he knows what that feels like. 

“Where are you going?” And then louder, when you don’t hear him because you’ve already left the room, “Where are you going?”

He follows you through the apartment as you march purposefully for the door, slipping shoes on and grabbing your keys and coat. 

You barely look over your shoulder as you leave, slamming the front door behind you. Things shake from the impact. A mini earthquake. 

Spencer is too stunned to follow you. 

It’s not until a few minutes later when he goes to call you that he realizes your phone is still sitting on your bedside table. He stares at it, tasting metal, because he has absolutely no way to reach you or guarantee your safety. There’s no way for you to call him, or anyone, if you get in trouble—and he fears that you’ll retaliate against him by doing something stupid and dangerous. 

He only just manages to stop himself from calling the police and asking them to start looking for you. Only just recognizes it to be an overreaction. 

Besides, he’s not feeling particularly fond of the criminal justice institution these days. If it came down to it, he’d trust himself and his team over the cops any day.

The team. They’re always a resource. If worst comes to worst, he thinks, robotically making coffee as he tries to talk himself down, and she doesn’t come home before dark, I’ll call all of her closest friends. If she doesn’t come home before the morning—the thought makes him feel sick—I’ll deploy every fucking resource at my disposal. 

Maybe that’s an overreaction, too, but he has to find a way to self-soothe somehow. Planning makes him feel better. Being prepared for the things you never see coming makes him feel better. It’s impossible, of course—but the illusion of control is stubborn and so seductive. 

Thankfully, it doesn’t come to that. 

At around 2 PM, he receives a couple of texts from Garcia that are a massive relief. 

Penelope: She’s at my apartment

Penelope: BE NICER TO YOUR GIRLFRIEND!!!!!!!

The series of emojis that follow (including an octopus?), he doesn’t even try to decipher. He simply drops his phone and sighs deeply into his hands, releasing an extreme amount of paranoid tension that had been tying him into knots. Lately, he’s had this sense that everything is fleeting—that the things he takes for granted are painfully, violently impermanent. It doesn’t take anyone with a degree to figure out why he’s been feeling that way, but it’s so all-consuming he’s not sure how to cope with it. Just a few days ago, he’d been wondering how to break up with you. Now he’s asking himself how the fuck he thought he’d be able to do that when he’s barely functioning after a few hours without you.

It’s a question he still hasn’t answered by the time the front door opens at 10 PM. It’s clear by the deer-in-headlights look on your face that you hadn’t been expecting him like this—leaning over the counter, half-empty mug by his hand, staring at nothing in particular and waiting for you to come home. Neither of you have changed clothing since this morning—not that you could—but you look apprehensive as you close it behind you, never facing away from him. The whole thing is like a teenager being caught sneaking back in by a weary parent. 

For a moment the silent confrontation stretches into the horizon, a non-specific point as neither of you seem inclined to be the first to talk. You just watch him watching you—leaning against the door rigidly as if you can’t get far enough away. But he’s too tired for this. Too worn out. 

“How’d you get home?”

You swallow. 

“Penelope.”

Spencer nods slowly, rolling his bottom lip between teeth and finally looking away. 

“You really should have brought your phone.”

You scoff, peeling yourself from the door. 

“Of course that’s what you’re worried about.”

It’s the same situation as this morning, but in reverse—him following after you down the hall as you storm toward the bedroom. 

“Wh—should I not have been? You scared me—” he says your name, barely catching the door before it can slam in his face. “I was worried about you.”

“Why?” you face him, laughing bewilderedly as if the situation were at all funny. A kind of manic energy crackles from the surface of your skin and in your eyes that renders him unable to think of a reply. “Because you thought I would get raped and murdered and then you’d be sad?”

“Yes!” Spencer yells, eyes widening as he fails to contain his frustration any longer. “That is fucking exactly why I was scared!”

You step forward, getting in his space. It jars him, momentarily—he wants to get away from you. Being angry and so close to you is terrifying. What if he lashes out? What if he hurts you? He’s seen crimes of passion. His blood is freezing in his veins. 

“Of course you didn’t give one single fuck that I left you. You didn’t think for one fucking second that I might be tired of this. That wasn’t what you were scared of at all.” For every inch you near, he backs away. Another scorned, bitter laugh from you that feels like poison coursing through his entire circulatory system. You notice everything, eyeing him up and down as he cowers from you. “What is this, Spencer? If you hate being near me that much, just fucking break up with me.”

You’re close enough that he can see the tears welling in your eyes, but he’d know they were there even if he couldn’t observe them. He would hear it in your voice. He would feel it. But he can’t do anything about it. Right now, he’s paralyzed. 

“If the only thing holding you back is wanting to spare my feelings, just fucking do it. This isn’t better. I don’t give a fuck if it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me, too, but I’m not just going to ignore it anymore.”

There’s no more room. The wall is at is back. 

“Honey, please back up,” Spencer breathes. Last time his back was to a wall, he’d been gagged and beaten. Don’t lash out. She never hurt you. It wasn’t her. 

“Don’t tell me what to do!” you shout, as tears begin to spill over your cheeks. “Either break up with me or stop telling me to go away!”

At that moment, as you break down and your words become muddled with sobs, you raise your fist. 

Spencer watches it approach his shoulder as if in slow-motion. 

On instinct, he catches your wrist.

There’s a lull as he waits for something to explode, for something to go terribly, deeply wrong—

But it doesn’t. 

He realizes his grip is gentle. He realizes you’d never actually hurt him like that. He realizes how little resistance he’d found when he stopped what was sure to be nothing more than a petulant, petty bump against his shoulder—a maneuver that wouldn’t have hurt in the slightest. It was nothing more than a desolate, childlike display of feelings bigger than you know what to do with. 

In the second that it takes him to realize all of this, to realize he is not endangering you in the slightest, nor you him, you’ve begun to truly sob. Standing just inches from him, head angled down as he holds your wrist carefully, you are the picture of a girl who has been running on empty for a very long time and has nothing left to give. Spencer twines his arms around you, tucking your head under his chin and slowly rubbing your back like he’d never forgotten how to hold you. It stuns you, and the tears pause for just a second—before you’re wrapping desperate, weakened arms around him and sobbing even harder, albeit silently, into his shirt. 

“I don’t want to break up,” he whispers, his own voice shaky with understated emotion. “I’m sorry. Please don’t say that. I don’t want that.”

“What’s wrong with you?” You cry, a desperate plead caught between sobs that wrack your body against his against the wall. And he knows it’s not an accusation. It’s not an insult. It’s a question born of confusion and fear. It’s what a child might ask a sick dog while tears stream down feverish cheeks. And it’s completely appropriate, considering he never tells you anything anymore and he’s only just realizing how scary that must be. Spencer is back from prison but you may as well still be living alone for all that you know about him. He tangles a hand in your hair and holds you against his chest, breathing you like nitrous oxide. 

“I don’t know,” he whispers. The room beyond blurs as he stares at nothing, focused only on the tingly euphoria of feeling you under his hands clashing with the ever-present and crushing shame that he couldn't do it sooner. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you—to be sorry.” Shuddering breaths and gasps still cleave your sentences in half, and Spencer listens so intently he thinks there might be harmonics hidden in the layers of your voice. He clings to every syllable like you’re wielding the word of god in a five-foot-something body. “I just miss you so m—much. I want you to—to love me.”

“I do,” he promises immediately, lips pressing to your ear. “I do love you. So much. So much.”

When you don’t respond, he’s not exactly surprised. He almost asks what he can do, what you need—but is quite sure that’s not the right move. Instead he doesn’t say a thing. Only holds you.

Later, you’ll pull back and he’ll swim in your teary gaze, and then kiss you. He’ll trace silent apologies into every inch of your skin under the torrent of the shower, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you understand. But for now, for the first time in months, you’re holding each other, and that’s all either of you need.  

[catgirlwizard]

.

[m-ayo-o]

going to the dentist after giving a bj~ doctor geto notices signs of palatal petechiae /bruising on the roof of your mouth/ on his sweet and shy patient !! 18+ explicit oral wc 2k

"Come in, sit down, Miss ..... And how was your weekend?"

You recline back on the chair, feeling a little nervous, filling your regular dentist in on the date you had on Saturday.

"Oh? Was he a keeper?"

"It went well, but I don't think it's anything serious..." you trail off. You were a little disappointed, despite the amazing evening you two had together, not to mention the great sex.

"Oh, that's a shame," he replies less than wholeheartedly.

He pushes his glasses up his nose and flicks through some paperwork, not keeping you waiting for long.

He turns to you, addressing you politely as always.

"Just a regular check up today?"

"Mhm" you nod a little stiffly, making him chuckle.

"Aw, you're not still nervous, Miss ....., you've been coming to me for months now."

You don't want him to take it personally. The whole process is just a bit intimidating. You were quite jumpy around dentists anyway, but after meeting such an attractive one your nerves have only got worse. You're constantly aware of where you're looking, trying not to embarrass yourself and focusing on not drooling all over him.

You shake your head, again, like a robot. He can see right through you and your petty crush that's becoming blindingly obvious.

"Here," he pulls his surgical mask over the lower half of his face, "how's that? Less scary now?"

You see his eyes are still smiling through his glasses and you can't help but giggle at his attempts to ease the tension. But you feel your face starting to heat up, especially under the bright light above your head.

"Just lay back and get comfortable, let me take a look, ok?"

You take a deep breath and tilt your head back, preparing yourself for his closeness.

His cologne is dreamy, his body is warm... and his eyes--

"Say, 'ah' please," he instructs you softly. His voice is so deep and calm he always makes you swoon. But now you have to show him the inside of your mouth... It makes you cringe so bad.

What if you didn't brush as thoroughly as you thought you did? What if there's a tiny piece of your breakfast stuck between your teeth? What if you need a filling!!?

Your worries are endless, but you open up, allowing his gloved fingers and metal tool to invade your mouth.

The smell of rubber enters your nostrils and you wince slightly at his gentle prodding motions.

"Flossing?"

You give him an awkward 'ah hah'

"And wearing your retainer?"

"Nn hn" you nod.

"Looking good. Open a bit wider, please."

He pokes around right at the back, checking your wisdom teeth.

"These been giving you trouble?"

"A-ah"

"Good a-and- oh-"

His sentence falls off and his words are caught in his mouth. You've never heard him stutter before, and he's blinking rather rapidly behind his glasses which appear to be steaming up a little. You give him a quizzical look, arching an eyebrow, wondering what caught his tongue.

"It- it's just a little... bruising. On your soft palate."

What an unprofessional thing to say. But he couldn't help it- it's just so shocking to think of a girl like you doing something like that.

But you don't understand the implications of his comment at all. He leans back and takes off his gloves, concluding your in depth inspection for today quite abruptly.

"Is it bad to have bruises there? It- it doesn't hurt-"

He sighs. He shouldn't have said anything, now you're just starting to panic.

"Is it something serious?"

"No, no," he tries to brush it off with one of his signature easy smiles, but you keep asking if you're going to be ok and if it's a condition, getting more and more stressed out.

He pulls off his surgical mask and sets his glasses on the counter, looking you up and down- he can't believe he's going to say something like this to you; his sweet patient.

"It's just," he massages his brow and pushes his black hair out of his face, "from... pleasuring a man."

"..."

"I'm sorry. I... didn't mean to embarrass you," he says, despite the unmistakable pink rising on his cheeks, "I shouldn't have commented and-"

"It's-- okay--" you start giggling.

Finally, the ice is broken by such a silly comment. You don't know why you're finding it so amusing that your charming dentist has just found out what you were really doing this weekend. But seeing his reaction- his flushed cheeks and the way his dark eyes are looking down- he's flustered. Your smooth talking, fine looking dentist is flustered!

"I-- I should be more careful-- of when I arrange my appointments-!!"

He can see you're not offended by his comment at all and that, in fact, you finally look comfortable now you're laughing hysterically in the medical chair where you usually sit so awkwardly.

"It's not a big deal, I was just a little... shocked," he muses, continuing to explain himself. He doesn't know what he's saying, as long as you keep laughing he doesn't care.

"Shocked? Oh, why would you be shocked, Doctor Geto? I told you I had a date!" You say with a smile on your face, watching his embarrassment grow.

You're starting to like this look on him, and he's loving every second of your cute giggling fit. However, he'd prefer if your conversation took a different turn.

"After a date- he must've been quite something," he dials up his flirty tone again.

You reciprocate, giving him a sly smile before saying, "It's not a big deal, Doctor Geto."

"Suguru," he replies with seduction seeping into his tone, "and maybe his wasn't..."

His eyes flick down south, drawing your attention to the tent in his suit pants that's been resting heavy there since the thought of you giving head crossed his mind.

He couldn't help picturing how pretty you'd look, and how you'd sound. Oh, just imagining the sounds are driving him to madness. He thinks he must be half mad, suggesting something like this with his patient. But his next appointment is in over an hour, and he's seen the way you look at him, knowing that part of the reason you're so shy is because you find him so unbearably attractive. He can tell he has an effect on you.

And he seems to be in luck, since you're feeling very enticed to take this flirtation further. You slowly but purposefully drag your eyes away from the sumptuous swell between his legs, up the well fitting seams of his shirt, and find the gorgeous outline of his face before locking eyes with him in the most seductive manner.

"Suguru," just hearing his first name pass your lips makes him twitch- he's gonna need more than a dick sucking at this rate, "I think what you have in your pants... is a very big deal."

Perhaps the biggest you've seen- through his clothes, anyway.

"Why don't you come over here and find out?" He replies without skipping a beat, beckoning you over to him.

You bite your lip and slink towards your dentist where he sits with his legs spread in his office chair. He watches your body move like a pendulum, until you reach him and place a hand on his shoulder, feeling the muscle there.

"Get on your knees for me."

There's something in his tone- in his confidence- that makes you bend down and get between his legs without thinking twice. You look up and watch one of his hands reach behind his head where unties the neat bun of his black locks, letting them fall over his shoulders.

He reclines on his seat majestically as you unzip his pants, not wasting a second longer in starting to pleasure him.

The swell you saw through his pants? Yeah, it was deceiving. Now you've got it resting in your hand you can see every thick and juicy inch. You lick the underside up and down, really slow, making him sigh.

"Good girls don't tease." He chastises through bite swollen lips.

"'m not a good girl."

He lets out a little laugh, then tugs on your lip with his thumb, opening your mouth slowly.

"I'm about to make you one."

~

"You're so fucking gorgeous."

He's breathless from the way you're sucking him, pushing your hair back to see how he sinks in and out.

He lets you do it for a while, admiring you getting messy, finding the perfect rhythm to tease his cum out.

But he needs more.

His hand slinks to the back of your neck and he starts guiding you deeper.

"'m gonna put this pretty throat of yours to good use now, ok sweetheart?"

He warns you gently, with his hips starting to move when you nod and continue sucking on him.

"Your date didn't do it like this, did he Miss .....?"

He knows he didn't, from the bruises on your throat he can tell the man barely touched you back there. But it was enough for his keen eyes to catch- and god he's glad he did now he's in your mouth. He starts to build himself up, nearly choking you with his dick, and he can tell he's going to leave even bigger marks back there.

He uses your soft and warm throat to bring him up to the edge, grabs your neck and takes himself over with breathless words tumbling from his lips.

"That's it, told you I could make a good girl of you- sso fucking good, hm, taking my cum-"

Your whimpers and gagging noises coax out a loud groan from his chest, he fucks his cum in your mouth and slowly slides out.

He tastes salty and tangy, and a little sweet. You swirl your tongue up his shaft and over that swollen, leaky tip, cleaning every drop off him.

He tilts your head back slowly.

"Let me see. Oh, fuck sweetheart~"

He wants to go again.

You see a look in his eyes that tells you he needs it. You return a similar expression and stick out your tongue, showing him the mess he made, and he arches right over as if inspecting you again.

And he's pleased to see the bruises on the back of your throat have only gotten bigger, where his cock head was rutting into you.

You close your mouth and swallow, lick your lips and start to tidy yourself up.

Your dentist looks at his watch and, with less than 15 minutes left until his next appointment, decides that he can't go for another round today.

"Can I give you my personal number?" He asks as he finishes buckling himself up again and finding his glasses.

"Yeah, okay Docto- um, Suguru," you smile and pass him your phone. He adds his details and slips your phone back, bringing you closer, and places a soft kiss on your cheek. Despite just sucking the man off, his sweet actions get your stomach flipping and your cheeks heating up. You hold onto his chest and feel his hands on your back as his lips caress your face, finally landing on your lips. Your noses nudge each other gently and his tongue slips over yours before he releases you and tells you he's got to get ready for his next patient.

"Just text me, ok? I'd love to repay the favour."

He smiles and watches you reapply your lip gloss that smeared off.

"Mhm, I will Suguru," you chirp and place a sugary peck to his cheek and waltz out of his practice. You can't believe you just did something like that... but with him, you'd do it anytime.

You'll be sure to call your sweet dentist before your next appointment.

suguru | m.list