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#which is why it just makes me think it’s something more personal or pointed driving the callouts
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I think the hardest thing in writing for me sometimes is the like “show don’t tell/let people communicate through subtext/Normal People don’t just walk around openly explaining their motivations for everything That’s Unnatural” thing because like.. I literally DO walk around openly explaining my motivations for everything, that is how I talk, I am an analytical detail oriented over-communicator who explains everything as thoroughly as possible and and will give a fully detailed 2 minute long answer to something simple like “how are you doing today?” .. like it’s hard to make things sound Natural and Normal when you yourself are inherently unnatural and abnormal in your methods of communication to an extent lol
#''hey. whats up? you look kind of sad.. is something wrong?''   normal answer (apparently how people are supposed to talk): *looks away#remosefully and stares into the distance* ''n-no.. I'm fine. don't worry about it.''   abnormal answer (how I would respond): ''Yeah I#'m mostly fine. I was just thinking about what the future is going to be like 30 years from now and if I'll ever actually accomplish anythin#g that I want to. which makes me feel X way for XYZ reason. you see because I had a dream last night that made me think of *continues to exp#lain my exact emotional state and inner thought process completely matter of factly in exact detail for 5 more minutes*#tfw you would be a badly written character if you existed in a story lol#This is also why I struggle making conflict because most conflicts can be resolved through conversation and I personally love to have long#detailed conversations about everything. Like literally I don't have hardly any conflicts interpersonally because if something happens it's#immediately followed up with like ''hey sorry if my tone of voice sounded a bit pointed or harsh. when you were talking to me I was trying#to balance all the stuff I was taking up the stairs and also my leg hurts so I think all my mental energy was being used there and I just#didn't feel like talking. I should have just said 'wait a minute and we can discuss it inside' instead of trying to end the conversation qui#ckly in a short rude way.' ''oh yeah thats fine. I thought it was something like that. sorry for hounding you about the topic as well. i#havent eaten in a while so I think I'm just a bit prickly at the moment. we should both rest for a while and destress from the store#trip and then talk about it later. maybe after lunch?' 'sure. sounds good.' like LITERALLY. lol#it is so hard for me to write characters who are bad communicators or don't understand their own internal states or arent constantly#analyzing their own actions to understand what they do/don't feel and why and what the cause of it is and etc. etc. etc.#I just naturally want everyone to perfectly undertsand everything and communicate amazingly and have complete self awareness and#logical presence of mind gjhbj.. which like.. of course comes across as unnatyural and also those type of people rarely ever get involved in#conflict and conflict is APPARENTLY what drives stories (even though I don't like most conflicts and just want to resolve them lol) so ...aa#I mean you can get around this to some degree by the fact that (at least in my opinion) no rule for dialogue is 100%. dialogue is good if it#sounds naturally like it comes from the character who said it. It can be meandering and pointless and rambly IF that matches the character.#it can be dry and overly self aware IF your character is that way and it suits them. So like throwing in a few detached scholar types or lik#e '5000 year old cave dwelling hermit' type people is good for me and works BUT the thing is an ENTIRE cast of characters can't be that way.#at some point - even in a setting where everyone is reserved and academic (like a research camp in the wilderness full of scholars and stuff#) still SOMEBODY has to be the one who's conflict prone and doesn't pristinely understand all of their emotions and etc. etc. Because statis#tically that is still literally the majority. Kind of like my tendency to make everyone 100% aromantic and asexul when it's like.. YES.. may#be 2 or 3 or even 4 out of 10 of them could be that way. but like.. an entire group? a diverse group of 10 people from all walks of life and#EVERY single one is like that??? hgjh . you have to add realistic variety#As much as I'm pro 'have more stories where sex or romance are literally NOT involved at all in any capacity since it's already oversaturate#d in media' I'm also dedicated to realism. alas. (at least as realistic as you can get in a fantasy setting lol)
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chiritori · 24 days
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contemplating asking my crush to hang out…
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wavesoutbeingtossed · 5 months
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#throwing my two cents into the ring#(cents? ring? ok mixing sayings whatever)#because I am officially on vacation for a week and have nothing better to do#but with all this dm stuff getting dredged up again#it is curious that Taylor and her team are consistently going after her when superficially it doesn’t make much sense#like she’s one of the most powerful women in the world#and everyone knows dm is a hack#like why give her more oxygen#which is why it just makes me think it’s something more personal or pointed driving the callouts#like yeah the things she’s said are shitty#but other than the mc and Jason lies from the other week#the stuff she’s posted isn’t much different than what other outlets were saying#and yes now we know why the wedding stuff in particular was a sore spot#but it’s beyond obvious it’s fake because if the secret marriage thing had been true it would have come out by now#so people know dm doesn’t know shit and doesn’t have a source in Taylor’s camp#so again it just makes me think that there’s something more behind the scenes that’s driving this#because I’d think any publicist and even any experienced celebrity would advise not to engage with this and let it blow over#especially at her level of fame and influence#so whether dm has harassed her or her friends#or the connection with the k*rd*shi*ns#or something else entirely#i think whatever is going on is being driven by something more serious/concerted than just shutting down rumours#because yes she’s clearly said she’s done letting other people drive the narrative about her own life (good for her btw)#but this is some organized shit happening#it’s very interesting but it seems like unless you’re a fan and you can read between the lines#and understand the history driving it#it kinda comes across as some mean girls drama#and those takes are annoying to read#tag novel#thank you for coming to my ted talk
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inkskinned · 6 months
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it is the first snow today. i think we should all have off work, even though it didn't stick. i think there should be 4 national holidays, one for each season. happy first snow, go home and make cookies. for spring it can be the first crocus. for summer the first lightning bug. for autumn, the first golden leaf. go home, kiss your dog, feed your cat (who is absolutely already-fed but somehow still starving.)
i think we should all take more showers together, but i mean that in the soft way. i mean it like taking a nap. two years ago i had 5 adult friends in my queen bed, all of us laying across each other, head over belly over thigh over hand. any time one of us would giggle, it would ripple over each of us, like pulling on a spiderweb. kim actually needed to nap and didn't get to sleep and i am still sorry for it even though this is one of my most precious memories.
i think we should all wash each other's hair, i mean. i walk my dog and i watch someone put up twinkle lights around their front porch. alex and i just moved, and i love the neighborhood. already so many of our new neighbors have stopped by to say hello. the nice lady downstairs also collects plants, like me. she gave us her number on a pink post-it note. i am trying to decide whether to make her cookies or brownies.
i am going through a very hard time. something bad happened this weekend that i do not wish to discuss. it is hanging over me. i think of the green ribbon, and the woman who had her throat cut. it feels like that sometimes, inside of my body. like i am walking and talking despite being half-corpsed. like i am hanging on by a ribbon, standing on some kind of cusp. i keep saying - at least it wasn't worse. we are so lucky it wasn't worse. the idea is river-rock smooth now, all the edges worried off.
in this very dark night - the sun sets by 3 now - people don't need to, but they try anyway. they paint the missing light into things. i have an embarrassing number of missed calls and texts, but i feel the love from them nevertheless - hey. if you need something, i'm here. i will bring you food/puzzles/anything. i got you.
i think we should all have a big group chat where we do errands with strangers. this week i got lost in a home depot, which is wild because i'm a lesbian and we are actually hatched in a lowe's lumber section. there were two other women in the whole store. we ended up shopping together, at first by accident (we all needed things in the same aisle), and then because, well, why not. one of the ladies was taller than me, so she pulled down the screws i needed. i am agile and have the personality of a raccoon, so they sent me after anything below 3 feet. we talked about holiday plans and never learned each other's names, but did learn all the drama about each other's families.
i am making you cupcakes, because i have so much affection i want to pour it into batter. you ask me if i am eating enough per meal. i wrap your gift twice, trying to do it prettily. i get excited to give it to you, just because i hope you'll be excited too.
my parents drive an hour just to see the new apartment and to do the parent thing; standing in the kitchen saying things like "oh you'll get so much use from this dishwasher" and "well, you could paint that" and "when your mother and i moved it was uphill both ways and in a snowstorm and of course your brother was an infant." my mother brought me a plant for housewarming. i always say i love you before she leaves.
i play dnd on tuesdays still, after all these years. we all keep that night free. at one point, between grad school and marriage and all of it, we had to have a serious discussion about how to keep it running. we will keep going, we decided eventually. just to see each other, even if we don't play - you are all important to me. sebastian is not prone to affection but last night he stole my usual sign off - i love you all, be good, he said. he was laughing.
i don't love the winter, actually. i like snow in theory, but i grew up in the north, and am too-familiar with the season of "mud and sludge". i don't like being cold. but i do love something kind of soft and rare: every year around this time, people remember oh yes. you and i are human together. and i have love to spare.
it is the first snow, and something in my heart is finally warm again. i have spent what felt like the last 18 months just going-through-the-motions. it has felt blank and immediate, like i would never actually feel again. that sounds extremely trite and stupid - but that is the boring and familiar experience of depression. life just washes up against your windows, and you watch it happening. you see things that should be lovely and affecting, and it just whispers too-thin. i was desperately uncreative. uninterested in my hobbies. unimpressed by my writing. i told my therapist, often, i don't know how to find hope again.
almost sheepishly, something strange and lovely is burning in my chest. i keep not-looking at it, worried it will scamper back into the shadows again. it is skittish and wild, but it is so warm i want to sink my hands into its fur and feel it breathing. i love-hate it: if it's real, it can hurt me when it leaves again. but i am icarus-born, sun-lover and poet: i can't help myself. despite my best intentions, i am falling in love with life again.
i am planning to make cookies for my friends. alex and i are going to go christmas tree shopping. we picked out matching dish towels last night, and they have little mushrooms on them.
i love you. it does come back. yes, even after a long time. even for you. i promise. keep trying. you will wake up and it will be a day you can smile about.
write me when you get there. we will take the day off of work, and i will wash your hair, and we will both be laughing.
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vanessagillings · 2 months
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I’m posting the ever-so-rare photo of myself alongside one of my characters based on my childhood because today is World Autism Acceptance Day, and I wanted to show my little corner of the internet who this particular autistic person is:  
I was officially diagnosed in February, at age 38 (I’m now 39). A lot of people thought I couldn’t be autistic.  Some people who know me in real life still don’t.  And until around 10 years ago, I didn’t think I could be either, because I was nothing like the stereotype media portrays. I was told that autistics lacked empathy (untrue), and never played make-believe (also often untrue) and only enjoyed STEM.  I was — and am — an empathetic artist -- and make believe?  I can spend days sketching finely bedecked bears brewing tea or carefully choosing the right words to weave tapestries of fiction — though perhaps my hyper focus was a bit of a red flag.  Even so, how could autism describe me?  I was a good student.  I got straight A's. I didn’t act out in class.  I can make eye contact…if I must.  And lots of girls hate having their hair brushed with an unholy passion, right?  Clearly I swim in sarcasm like a fish, so autism couldn't be why I was so anxious all the time, could it?
If someone had told me when I was younger what autism ACTUALLY is — instead of the nonsense I’d seen on screens — I would have seen myself in it.  I didn’t hear that autistics have sensory issues until I was in my mid-twenties, which is when I first began to really research autism symptoms, and I had almost all of them:  sensitivity to light, smells, fabrics, temperatures, textures, and certain touches, all of which make me feel anxious, I fidget (stim), I never know what the hell to do with my hands or where to look, I talk too little or too much, I have special interests, I have entire animated movies memorized shot-by-shot and can remember the first time and place I saw every movie I've ever seen but I often forget what I'm trying to say mid-sentence, I echo movies and tv shows (my husband and I have a whole repertoire of shared echolalias, making up about 20% of our conversations), I was in speech therapy as a kid, I have issues with dysnomia and verbal fluency, I toe-walk, I can't multitask to save my life, I like things just-so, I’m deeply introverted but not shy, I need to recover from all social interaction — even social interaction I enjoy — and I find stupid, every day things like grocery shopping, driving and making appointments overwhelming and intensely stressful, sometimes to the point where I struggle to speak.  It turns out, I am definitely autistic. My results weren't borderline. Not even close. And while these aren’t all of my challenges, and not everyone with these symptoms is autistic, it’s definitely something to look into if you present with all of these things at once. 
So why did it take me so long to get diagnosed? The same bias that exists in media threads through the medical community as well, and because I'm a woman who can discuss the weather while smiling on cue, few people thought I was worth looking into. Even after I was fairly certain I was autistic, receiving an official diagnosis in the US is unnecessarily difficult and expensive, and in my case, completely uncovered by my insurance.  It cost me over $4000, and I could only afford it because my husband makes more money than I do as a freelance illustrator — a job I fell into largely because it didn’t require in-person work; like many autists, I have been chronically underemployed and underpaid, in part due to physical illness in my twenties, which is a topic for another day.  But it shouldn’t be like this.  It shouldn’t be so hard for adults to receive diagnoses and it shouldn’t be so hard for people to see themselves in this condition to begin with due to misinformation and stereotypes. Like many issues in America, these barriers are even higher for marginalized groups with multiple intersectionalities. 
It’s commonly said that if you’ve met one autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person.  This is why it’s called a spectrum, not because there’s a linear progression of severity (someone who appears to have low support needs like myself might need more than it seems, and vice versa), but because every autistic person has their own strengths and weaknesses, challenges and experiences, opinions and needs.  No two people on the spectrum present in the same way.  And that’s a good thing!  No way of being autistic is inherently any better than any other, and even if someone on the spectrum struggles with things I don’t — or can do things I can’t — doesn’t make them more or less deserving of respect and human dignity.
But speaking solely for myself, the more I learn about autism, the happier I am to be autistic.  I struggle to find words and exert fine motor control, but my deep passion and fixation has made me good at art and storytelling anyway.  I find more joy watching dogs and studying leaf shapes on my walks than most people do in an entire day.  More often than not, the barriers I’ve faced weren’t due to my autism directly, but due to society being overly rigid about what it considers a valid way of existing.  My hope in writing this today is that maybe one person will realize that autism isn’t what they thought — and that being different is not the same as being less than. My hope with my fiction is to give autistic children mirrors with which to see themselves, and everyone else windows through which to see us as we actually are.
If you’re interested in learning more about autism or think you might be autistic, too, I recommend the Autism Self Advocacy Network  autisticadvocacy.org and the following books:
What I Mean When I Say I’m Autistic by Annie Kotowicz
We're Not Broken by Eric Garcia
Knowing Why edited by Elizabeth Bartmess
Unmasking Autism by Devon Price, PhD
Loud Hands edited by Julia Bascom
Neurotribes by Steve Silberman
(trigger warning: the last two contain quite a lot of upsetting material involving institutionalized child abuse, but I think it’s important for people to know how often autistic children were — and are — abused simply for being neurodivergent).
Thanks for reading 💛
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loveemagicpeace · 6 months
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🍸Saturn in Houses🍸
A lot of people ask me about Saturn in houses so I decided to make a new series about Saturn in houses in general.
☕️Most important thing about Saturn is that Saturn represent time , age ,reward , growth but in some kind of different way than Jupiter. Also represents your way of coping with life,things that you are more serious about and more responsible with. It also represents holidays. The planet is known for its reality and practicality, but also for its tendency to excessive strictness. His expectations may be too high. A strong Saturn in chart can indicate that we want to control everything in our life to the point that we consider ourselves a failure if we fail to reach the goals we have set for ourselves. However, Saturn provides the desire for we develop the areas in which we feel weak and this weakness can therefore become our greatest virtue. Strong Saturn connection between two charts in relationship (especially if saturn is in aspect with the moon or the sun) indicates a serious long-term commitment that can last forever (whether we like it or not). Saturn can also be cruel sometimes because it is the planet of hard reality but it also the planet that help us the most to achieve something much more greater than that.
🫧Saturn in 1st house- in your early age you can have problems with yourself image ,with your appearance ,confidence & energy. It can also be hard for you to express yourself. With Saturn here you can feel weak sometimes. You can feel like you don't have that much power that other people do have or you can feel like you are not good enough. Many people may underestimate you. Many times you can give off a very different energy than it really is (especially when people meet you for the first time). You are a more closed person and you only give energy to those who deserve it.
✨Saturn in 2nd house- maybe it's hard for you to find your value or set boundaries for yourself. You have very strong and serious approach to money you will never buy something that it's like I don't know some random thing. Also a lot of people think that you cannot work with money or things related to money maybe people don't trust you with that but this is all because they don't really know how smart you actually are. Low self-esteem is a characteristic trait of this placement in astrology. Self-confidence doesn’t come easy to you, though.
⭐️Saturn in 3rd house- many people underestimate your thinking, expression, intelligence. U can usually get insecure about the way you speak or the way you say some things. I think the fear in this house is that you are afraid that you will say something wrong. You have to be confident in whatever thing you say and you should say confidently because you are intelligent ,you're smart. You can also be a good writer & speaker. Many people can pass their driving test late, but that's exactly why they drive much better than others. You can get along better with your siblings later in life. You are capable of seeing things in depth.
🎧Saturn in 4th house- you can have a lot of rules in your early years. You grow up with rules at home that you can stick to. Your parents are more strict with you and allow you to do certain things later. I just feel like that parents will buy you a phone later in life or something. People usually come from a family where they weren’t emotionally nourished. But it's not always like that because when it comes to family the Moon is great indicator for how you feel at home and how you vibe at home. So saturn doesn't mean that your family cannot be good. You can also be the person who grows the fastest in the family.
❄️Saturn in 5th house- dating life can be very serious topic for you. You cannot date people with whom you don't feel that you can have committed relationships with. Saturn brings a strong desire for fame, recognition, and success but may result in delays and disappointments in love life and artistic creations. U can also struggle to find love. You can also have very high standards when it comes to love because 5th house represent dating ,represent meeting people and flirting and falling in love so usually people who have Saturn in 5th house are very serious when it comes to that. In some cases, your partners are older than you. Often, your love life significantly improves after the age of thirty. Your best relationships will probably come later in life. As you become more carefree and spontaneous, you become more attractive to others.
🍃Saturn in 6th house- you can have a lot of struggles in the work. You feel that working is just anxiety for you or when you work, people are just rude or mean to you. You are always in the shadow at work. People find you like you are not good enough or you don't do the job good enough. You can also stress a lot about your health and you can also be obsessed with being in the some kind of routine or having some lifestyle. Being healthy all the time.
🐚Saturn in 7th house- there can be issues with your relationships. You can have relationships in your early years or you don’t have for a long time. You usually have many karmic relationships from which you can learn a lot. Saturn helps you to choose the right person for yourself and to be happy in the end. You are a person who is serious when it comes to a relationship (when you find a person, then that person is the one and only for you), you hate cheating, and when you decide to leave then you leave. Saturn can also bring a sense of responsibility and duty to relationships. The individual may take their relationships seriously and work hard to maintain them.
☁️Saturn in 8th house- there can be a lot of family secrets that family kept from you. People with Saturn in this house usually feel very lonely or alone in their soul. They have this mindset that you are all alone in this world. You are aware of the hard truth in life that people don't. You can fear the death of loved ones. If you overcome the challenges of your Saturn in the eighth house, you will be able to understand people very well. You can develop a talent to see into the soul. Saturn here gives you a deep understanding of life, death, crisis, transformation, and sometimes a talent for healing.
⚡️Saturn in 9th house- Saturn gives you a deeper view of the world in which you live. Saturn in ninth house people have very strict moral code. This placement indicated a religious person, someone who either follows the set rules or makes their own views. You meet new people and experience new activities that make you see the world from a new perspective. You can also meet a lot of people that change your perspective and your mindset. But there can also be a deep fear of new views. Maybe you don't feel like you're not smart enough or that you're not educated enough.
🖤Saturn in 10th house- You usually go over many obstacles to finally achieve what you really want. Many people have problems with whether they will ever be successful or achieve it. But in the end, they achieve even more. Many times people don't believe in you and see you as a person who will never be that successful and then you surprise them all. You can learn a lot from your father and your father can be your role model or a person who helps you through life. The best advice will give you your father.
🫐Saturn in 11th house-you can have a lot of karmic friendships and you can change a lot of friends in your life. Every friend that you have is the friend that you have to learn something from them. Your hopes and wishes are another important life area associated with this house. It shows everything that comes into your life and how your dreams can come true. Saturn in eleventh house suggests that you are quiet and reserved when in a group. Sometimes you feel invisible: it feels like no one hears you out in a group. In this lifetime, you have to learn how to have a healthy relationship with groups and how to behave in your social circle.
🥃Saturn in 12th house- The individual may experience a strong sense of responsibility towards charitable or behind-the-scenes work. Sometimes you don’t let even those the closest to you to see your weaknesses. As a child, you had to learn to hide your feelings, especially the negative ones. You absorb all the energies around you, and if you are surrounded by negativity, it can affect you badly. It can happen that you have a job that requires you to be isolated in some way. Maybe you work in a hospital or prison. You are often unaware of the reason why you are in pain. If you have planets in the twelfth house, you can benefit a lot from psychotherapy. But when you have Saturn return you can benefit a lot from it and you can become very spiritual opened and you can have a lot of blessings.
🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸
✨Ig-bekylibra✨
-Rebekah📀💘☁️
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yandere-romanticaa · 1 month
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Recently, the surge of AI has caught everyone's attention and I've been working on this little experiment.
Down below the cut are two fics and this is how I planned it - one was made up by using AI (more specifically, Chat Gpt) while the other one was written by yours truly. Below both fics will be a poll and I would like for you, my dear readers, to guess which one was AI. Personally, I don't think it'll be a difficult challenge but seeing your reactions and comments on this should prove to be an interesting endeavor.
This was posted on April 17th. And, in 7 days, I shall reveal which fic was written by me, and which one was done by AI.
Now then, let's get on with the show.
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🥀 Story One.
In the dimly lit alleyways of Yokohama, Fyodor Dostoevsky stalks his obsession, (y/n), with unwavering determination. His fixation transcends reason, driving him to extreme lengths to possess (y/n)'s affection.
Fyodor's obsession with (y/n) began innocently enough, a mere curiosity sparked by their untapped potential and innocence. But as time passed, that curiosity twisted into an all-consuming desire, festering within Fyodor's mind like a venomous serpent.
Each night, Fyodor would follow (y/n) from a distance, his heart pounding with anticipation and longing. He would watch as (y/n) laughed with their friends, oblivious to the dark presence lurking in the shadows.
But Fyodor's love was not the gentle, nurturing kind. It was possessive, suffocating, and dangerously obsessive. He couldn't bear the thought of (y/n) belonging to anyone but him, couldn't stand the idea of anyone else basking in the warmth of (y/n)'s smile.
As his obsession deepened, Fyodor's mind became consumed with dark fantasies of possessing (y/n) completely. He would spend hours meticulously planning every detail of their future together, envisioning a life where they were inseparable.
But fantasies were not enough for Fyodor. He needed to make them a reality, no matter the cost. And so, he began to weave a web of deception and manipulation, carefully orchestrating events to bring (y/n) closer to him and drive away anyone who dared to stand in their way.
But as Fyodor's plans grew more elaborate, so too did the danger. (y/n)'s friends grew suspicious of Fyodor's intentions, sensing something sinister lurking beneath his charming facade. And as they delved deeper into Fyodor's past, they uncovered secrets that threatened to unravel his carefully constructed world.
But Fyodor was not about to let anyone come between him and his beloved. He would do whatever it took to protect their love, even if it meant resorting to violence.
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🥀 Story Two.
Shimmering waves of starlight engulfed the man in white as he monitored his target from a safe distance, hollow purple eyes gleaming with excitement. He could feel his long fingers twitching with anticipation in his warm pockets, a stark contrast to the chilly wind on this fine spring evening.
He needed to be patient. Because patience was indeed, a virtue.
And Fyodor was a virtuous man. Perhaps not a good one, but he would gladly take the title of virtue.
Would you bestow upon him such a title? Would you do so, if you ever found out that he had taken such a keen interest in you? The rational part in his mind said no, of course not. Unlike him, you were blessed with normalcy. There was nothing extraordinary about you - no ability, no wealth, no status.
Nothing.
You could have been squished like a bug beneath his heel and the world would just keep on going as it always would. Sure, there would be some individuals who would miss you dearly but even they would move on at some point.
Such was the nature of humanity. How cruel, he thought to himself.
Fortunately for you, Fyodor was no ordinary man. Despite his predicament, he had grown fond of you. He was not sure why but after a while, he stopped asking such trifling questions as to why he troubled himself by giving you so much attention.
It was pointless to make sense of the senseless.
Right here, right now, all he wanted was to enjoy this quiet evening by his lonesome, as he tailed behind you like a creeping shadow. He would reveal himself to you properly when the time was right, when he felt you were strong enough to take him.
Fyodor just needed to wait a little bit longer, just long enough to see how he should proceed with you in case things went south.
In the meantime, he would gladly spend every waking moment simply watching you for his own personal pleasure.
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🥀 TAGS: @yanroma, @oneoftheprettynerds, @misdollface, @sxy0ung, @rosemary108233, @c4xcocoa, @gettinshiggywithit, @ophticcus, @lakxcpsta, @ranposgirlboss, @robinaxolotl, @acornwinter, @enoojnij, @ishqani, @osachiyo, @bluepeanutharmony, @kaithegremlin, @fyodorscockslut, @wcayaw, @luna-mariko-akatsuki, @lovelyyz, @queenofspades403
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APRIL 24TH - Story One is AI.
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thefudge · 3 months
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Advice for writing smut???
gonna do bullet-points of things i tend to live by when it comes to smut (this is just my opinion):
don't switch styles: the way you write the smut has to be consistent with the way you write the rest of the story, so if your story is more comedic or romcom-y in nature, the way you write the smut should have those stylings. i personally find it very jarring when authors decide to break the format for the smut, almost like the story has to stop for the sex intermission; if you're writing a horror story, the smut must be informed and influenced by that genre, and if you are breaking genre for the smut portion, tell us why you're suddenly switching gears (it has to be an aesthetic choice you're making on purpose). likewise, if your style in that story is more lyrical, the smut has to be somewhat lyrical too, or if your story is more cormac mccarthy-esque-cut-and-dry, the smut can't suddenly involve an effluvia of purple, sappy prose. integrating the smut in the story and treating it like any other part of the story is key to me. too often i've seen ppl switch to this anonymous pornified style when they get to the smut
which brings me to specificity. i'll talk about het sex, since that's what i tend to write most: not all men are going to be fingering or eating pussy the same way, not all dicks are big and they shouldn't be, not all women immediately get excited by fingering, not everyone moans the same way or makes the same sounds. you're writing about particular characters so it has to be particular to them. i know this is very old advice, but i think it bears repeating
there isn't an exact formula or sequence you have to follow, there aren't precise steps, you don't have to go "well, first he has to kiss down her neck, then reach the boob area, then play with the nipples, then put the nipple in his mouth, then slowly go down on her, then prepare her for entering her etc. etc. etc." this can get boring and repetitive and you start thinking of your characters as these mechanical dolls who have to fuck for your audience. and that can be a vibe too, if you do it on purpose. but sometimes you can get stuck in a porn routine (and ofc, having only the guy show initiative can also get boring)
in order to break that, insert some character moments. what are the characters thinking during this? sometimes they might be thinking of something completely unrelated on the surface, but which has a thematic relevance that can make the scene hotter. likewise, maybe they're doing smth that seems unsexy on the surface, but which, within the context of the story might be really hot. sex doesn't just involve, well, sex, but so much weirdness and humanity and creativity. two bodies (usually) are trying to do this really awkward thing together and they might have a lot of baggage and history to inform it. there's a lot you can do with that.
don't make it glossy and clean, where everyone smells of strawberry shampoo and there is never anything out of sync. the most boring smut tends to be the kind where no one makes any mistakes and everything is super efficient. i imagine it feels like using an industrial pump to milk various farm animals.
and you know what? you can make that hot too. you CAN write a kind of robotic efficient smut and make it really interesting based on the context. let's say you're writing a 1984 AU fic where ppl are forced into intimacy only to procreate and their sex drive is diminished. you can play with that premise and lean into the dehumanizing industrialization of sex, but you have to mean it, aka your narratorial voice must be conscious of these factors.
if you're writing dubcon, make the dubious part present, make sure you draw out the ambivalence and ambiguity. if you're writing noncon, the character whose consent is being violated has to be transformed by this in some way. it can be forced pleasure, for instance, but not only. it has to be a journey for them too, some kind of spiritual pit, or a form of access to terrible knowledge. i know this is a personal thing, but noncon doesn't work for me if the character being noncon'd is just sort of *there*, suffering passively. i think that sort of dead passivity can be done very well too, but the narratorial voice has to persuade me.
that being said, don't be afraid of fear in consensual sex. terror and vulnerability are a part of consensual sex too, imo, and again, depending on the story and the characters, there's a lot you can explore there
i personally find it really hot when the narratorial voice starts discussing some of the ideas that the story wants to convey during the smut. so like, you can characterize person A and outline their worldview and their plans while they're ramming person B, and the thinking & fucking are thus entwined. idk, i dig that
speaking of which, smut can convey world-building details and social/philosophical ideas, not just emotions and character beats
not all smut has to end with mutual orgasm or even one-sided orgasm, it depends what you want to do or where you want to go. again, you don't have to follow a sequence. plus, it's fun (and hot) to write about frustration and failure too.
if you want to mix up the descriptions, resort to the story & characters. you'll find it's easier to describe someone fondling a boob in a new or at least interesting way if you're thinking about that particular character in that particular story, and not just Man X from planet porn (sorry to be snarky, but mainstream erotica is soooo guilty of this)
screaming & really intense reactions are cool but they have to match the characters and the situations
sometimes, it's hotter if an effect is mild or negated, if the usual outcome doesn't happen; mix up the order of events, toy with the usual reactions. it's not about being original, it's about finding out what works for your characters. writing about sex is, in a way, a performance of it, an attempt to go through the sexual motions, to find out what works and doesn't, to engage with the erotics of text (roland barthes entered the chat)
if you are bored by your own smut, that's a problem. i know we all talk about how hard we find writing smut, and IT IS hard, and sometimes it's not enjoyable, because writing itself is often not enjoyable, but even when it's painful and annoying, it gives you that little intellectual kick like "huh, i'm creating this and making these people do this, and ohh look, i can maybe put this unnamable thing into words". but if you become bored, that's a sign you have to look at the language & characters and figure out what's not working for you
last thing i'll underline: pay attention to your narratorial voice. in this ordeal, you are the seducer. not the characters. you have to seduce us with words and context. your voice matters the most. you can persuade us of anything. but you have to be confident in your weirdness and particularity. this is your bedroom (so to speak), so invite us in.
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🌊Love And Guests🌊
┍━━━━━»•» 🌺 «•«━┑
Pairing: Aonung x reader
PART TWO: HERE
Summary: Aonung has put out your usual sass with his recent flirting and it’s driving you insane. When he finally gets to speak with you alone as he shows off his spear throwing expertise it gets heated quickly
Warnings: Sexual tension and heated word choices, no smut but it gets close, mention of genitals 
Word Count: 3.1K
A/N: No updates, I’m getting back into writing after months of breaks so I’m sorry if i’m rusty.  Also I feel like it goes without saying that Aonung is of age in all of my writing. I am not just writing about a minor, you are close in age. 19 years old.
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┕━»•» 🌺 «•«━━━━━┙
"I still don't know why you think it's better that I teach you instead of my brother", Tsireya warmly suggested as she handed you a beginner's spear to practice with.
"Because I want to learn from the best", was all you managed to say as you took the spear in your hands and inspected it with wandering hands.
The real reason you were so eager to meet up with Tsireya instead of Aonung was laughable. Aonung had been playing a dangerous game with your feelings, making you feel a way you shouldn't to fuel your thoughts about the chief's son. Avoiding the brat to the best of your abilities for weeks now was the only way you could fight the fact you were slowly starting to become infatuated with the boy that was growing into a young man.
He had become cocky now that he was of age, and while he still had a few years of learning left before becoming chief, it had become clear his training was making him more and more defined. The way his body moved with every hearty laugh or every faux wrestling match with his friends drove you up the wall, so you decided it was best to try and stop seeing him altogether.
However, this was becoming a challenge as he had recently decided to spend more of his free time harassing you than anyone else. It was very confusing, as you thought you had put this bullying behind you when you were children. That could easily be forgotten, though, as he was indeed still the next leader, and that could explain his rudeness, but what couldn't be helped was the blush that overgrew you every time he towered over you with that smirk that he didn't know affected you in such unforgiving ways.
"Well, thank you, I'm flattered", she giggled, then continued, "but Aonung is the top in the clan at spear throwing, and he's not gonna be happy if he finds out you asked me instead of him", she never felt bad for her brother. Still, when it came to the matter of his undying yet, painfully expressed crush on you, she felt merciful.
You scoffed, squaring yourself next to her as you looked towards the targets drawn on the ground.
The target range for spear-throwing was closer to the village than any of the other training areas because you needed the clear ground to allow a large windup for hurling the stick through the air. It was still private, which you enjoyed because you had a feeling this was going to be an embarrassingly miserable display of physical prowess.
The targets were set up in the distance and made up of 3 circles of fine white sand sprinkled in precise shapes on the ground. Tsireya had already collected the sand earlier in the day and laid out the rings in exchange for you to be the one that churned the sand into the dirt when you were done so the next person who came to train could easily set up the rings and get started.
"I don't think I could handle his smugness at having me asking him a favor", you smiled at her, holding up the spear like you had seen Aonung and his friends do when they came here to learn when you were younger.
It was the truth. Honestly, you wouldn't have been able to handle his smug looks or laugh or the fact that to teach you meant one on one time by yourselves. You would prefer being lectured by Ronal, and that was saying something.
She nodded, trying to copy you as she held up the pointed end of the spear into the air, getting herself ready to fling the wooden spike. The artillery was too large for her, and you watched in curiosity as she heaved it up a little higher with a grunt.
"Alright, so what you want to do is pull back and using your back leg, you want to push--" she was cut off by the sound of laughter in the near vicinity. Before she could resume her instructions, you heard the sound of foliage and leafs being broken as a group of four boys emerged into the clearing, each of them but one with their spears by their side.
Aonung was still laughing at something Rotxo had said, but when he looked up and saw you, with your arms still raised as his sister mirrored you, he felt his heart skip a beat and his face light up with delight.
You cursed under your breath and dropped the stick like it was a venomous snake, instantly turning around to hide your slightly tinged face.
This was so unfair! He hadn't even said anything so far. All he had done was smile and laugh! He never had this much of a hold on you when he was younger. As he got older and his hair grew past his shoulders, and his muscles became larger, you became less aware of what to do with yourself.
"I have to go", you mumbled, feeling the tinge fade as you turned to pick up the burlap sack you had brought with you and leave for the village.
"Well, what is going on here?" Aonung called out in the conceited tone he saved for when he was talking to you. His deep voice boomed around the clearing, forcing its way into your ears and silencing the chatter between his other friends.
You didn't respond and instead made your way in the opposite direction they had come from, but before you could escape, a few words were yelled out, making your face nearly melt off your skull and onto the floor below you.
"Somewhere to be, pretty girl?" Aonung called out while his friends spread out, tossing down their training gear and lunches they had packed in preparation for a few hours of training.
You turned sharply, trying to calm your breathing so the blood would move from the gathering in your cheeks down to your heart which desperately needed the extra help because the poor thing was beating overtime.
"Just remembered I have somewhere to be", you said rather awkwardly, not allowing yourself to come across as timid but not quite having the energy to yell back at him with the same enthusiasm.
"Oh, come on! You said you wanted to learn from the best, and he's right here!" Tsireya spoke. She lay down her spear next to yours and jogged up to you. She grinned as she gently tugged on your hand, coaxing you to come and stand to talk to the boys who were checking over their weapons.
You sighed, then gave in, dropping the sack and letting her drag you over to Aonung, who was still standing in the same spot. As you walked over, he had a proud smile etched on his face, and you wanted nothing more than to slap it off.
Your face dropped so you could look anywhere but into his eyes that would have caught you in his dangerous trap of good looks and gentle teasing and never let you go.
"Come on, teach her!" Tsireya was far too excited, nearly jumping up and down while her older brother rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.
"Who said I wanted to help?" He snarkly asked, then continued, "and next time you're thinking of using my spear, ask!" He spat, gesturing to the spike that was laid on the ground rather carelessly. That cleared up the question of why the spear had nearly tipped her over when she held it up.
She elbowed him roughly in the chest with her free arm causing him to bend down a little in pain and scowl at her, but no sound of agony came out.
He quickly straightened himself and snarled at Tsireya, but she gave him a pointed look before her eyes darted to you several times. After a few seconds, he finally got her unspoken threat and sighed, pushing past the both of you to walk over to collect his projectile.
You ignored the feeling of his hand burning on your shoulder as he pushed between you two, breaking the hold Tsireya had on you.
"Come on, pretty girl, let's see what you can do", he called out, not bothering to turn around because he knew you'd be following.
You looked over to Tsireya before you elbowed her yourself, questioning her with a look. She knew you didn't want to speak with him, yet here he was and instead of ushering him away, she had insisted he teaches you.
She simply shrugged at you and pushed you forward before running off to sit next to her brother's friends.
You passed by Rotxo and nodded to him in greetings which he returned before tucking into the fruits he had brought with him. He was chatting with his friends, who all found a spot under a nearby tree that was far enough away from the targets that they wouldn't hear you and Aonung's words to each other but still close enough that they could still see any funny failings.Your eyes settled on Aonung's back, and you took a deep breath, you didn't even have the shame to look away when he crouched down and picked up his spear, checking it over for dirt or marks.
"You watch me first, then you try", he said, glancing over to see you were watching him with eyes slightly wide at the idea of trying to copy his expert throw with an audience.
He smiled at you, which caused you to blush and break the stare you had been holding on his body, which only made him grin, thus continuing the terrible cycle.
"Eyes on me, nobody else is watching, so you can look at me as much as you want", he called you out with a smirk when you finally scowled, giving him a reaction that he couldn't help but chuckle at.
"I worry for anybody that enjoys looking at you", you hissed while taking a step back, knowing he would have to have some space to move when he threw the spike.
He didn't say anything this time but didn't have to. His eyes spoke for him as they shone like the sea on a sunny day.
"So she speaks! I was beginning to worry!" He watched you roll your eyes in amusement with a slight smile on your face, and he silently swore at himself in his head for turning so you wouldn't see his sly grin that he only got when he made you happy.
"Let's start", he wasted no more time and held the wooden stick over his head. You watched with slightly awestruck eyes as his body moved so purposefully.
He raised the spear, and using his other arm, he aimed to secure the direction he was throwing in. He could feel your eyes on him, and it made him cocky. He wanted to show off, to show you he was strong and worthy of praise.
He pulled back his left leg, then after taking a breath, he threw it with as much strength as it took to land directly in the centre of the target. They were far closer than he usually had them, but it was to be expected since you were a beginner.
The weapon shot through the air before the sharp spearhead dug into the ground with a thud, landing directly in the centre of the most petite ring. A perfect bullseye.
He leaned back with a satisfied grin. He turned to look at you with the hopes you would be at least slightly impressed. You were still staring, mouth open in an 'o' shape, struck somewhat by just how gifted at the sport he was, and it made a part of his internal body tingle when you turned with the look changing from amazement to an affectionate smile.
"I'll admit you aren't bad, I've seen worse", you couldn't help the smile anymore. He always had a way of killing off your anxiety, and right now was no different. His cocky grin made your heart speed up, but your mind just wanted to insult him until he dropped.
"If that's all it takes to impress you, I am afraid to know how easy it is to please you", he took no shame in his words, and your smile quickly dropped to embarrassed growls as you hid your face, turning to look over at his friends that were all talking to Tsireya about something at the same time. The discussion looked heated, and none of them paid attention to you two.
You watched, eyes as focused as ever. 
"Arrogant brat", was all you could get out as you looked down at your feet and kicked at the dirt.
"Oh, did I touch a nerve? I didn't know you were such a goody-goody", he didn't wait for your smart-ass answer and walked off to tug his spear out of the ground sharply. Your mind was reeling as you heard a soft grunt escape his lips as he yanked his prize out of the ground.
You shook your head and bent down to pick up the training spear you had been given, not taking notice of your position that had your back to the sky until you felt a hand smack into your backside harshly.
The slap was loud, making your face turn scarlet red as you jumped up, abandoning the spike to glare at Aonung with a death stare.
You were shocked, he had never been so bold with his teasing, and while it wouldn't have crossed a line had you been alone, you could feel the four pairs of eyes gawking at the back of your head.
"Don't", you gently warned. You didn't want to admit it, and you knew it was wrong, and the pompous imp should have been ashamed of himself, Aonung should have been on his hands and knees begging to be forgiven, but a part of your brain was fighting not to jump his bones right now and embarrass him in front of his friends.
And he dared to look proud of himself as he laughed at your face, raising his hand in a half-assed attempt to hide the smile while you geared up to smack him across the face.
He noted how livid you looked and sighed. He hadn't meant to offend you. But when he was walking back and saw how your ass was staring at him like that, he couldn't resist the temptation.
"All right, I'm sorry" he held his hands up in surrender as a beam of playfulness poured from his eyes as a flirtatious grin overtook him.
"If you want to touch my body, ask, coward", you bit back, letting yourself grin as he took his turn of letting his mouth go slack at your actions.
"What's wrong pretty boy? Need some help?" you chuckled, nodding your head south. His eyes followed yours with a confused quirk on his brow as he looked down, and his eyes widened as he nervously took in that he had a half chub under his loin cloth.
You took a step back from him, feeling the heat between your legs signal it was time to go before you made some terrible mistakes that led you both behind a tree somewhere doing things you wanted to make him wait for.
He couldn't take his eyes off you, and as you felt the roles reversing, you suddenly understood why Aonung found the teasing so fun.
He looked back up at your smug face and peeked toward the group behind you with a silent plea in his eyes. Don't drag their attention down to his excitement.
"You need to learn some manners, Aonung, it's not becoming of the next chief to be so blatant in public, you've really hurt my feelings", you gave a dramatic exaggeration of a pout to him while your hands came to lay on your heart.
He was blocked from the sight line of his peers by where you were standing, but one step to the left or right and even from this distance, it was undeniable that he was hard.
He hadn't moved to cover his crotch yet but he dropped the spear, staring at you with begging eyes. It seemed that your sudden 360 from being a blushed-out lovesick moron to a vengeful demon had done nothing to ease him down, if anything, you made it worse.
You leaned forward, taking great pleasure in standing on your feet a little to get even with his ear, your hot breath panted onto his neck and he couldn't do anything to stop you. One move, and you'd be exposing him to his closest friends.
"Compared to me, I think it's you that's easy to please", you smiled, and he hated how he could feel the heat from your mouth as your teeth came so close to his neck that it drove him mad.
You quickly pulled away and smiled when you saw his eyes were closed, he was focusing on his breathing like he had you doing from his actions so many times before, and it felt so good to see him like this. A grown man that was bigger than you in every way imaginable was trying to calm his breath over you and your words.
"Well, this has been fun, but I'll see you later, Aonung", you felt confident for the first time in weeks and slowly, you felt the old you coming back, the sarcastic you that had just as much bark in you as Aonung.
You turned to leave, but he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to him, not quite flush against his body, lest one of the others looked up again and saw you two so close.
"Wait a few minutes, then follow me", he didn't give you the time to reply once again as he picked up the spear and finally had the dignity to cover himself with his free hand before walking off to go deeper into the forest without so much as a glance back.
Oh, you knew you shouldn't. You should turn around and leave, let the warrior get himself off in the forest like the animal he was acting like. Still, the heat that had signaled you to go nearly 5 minutes ago had grown, and you knew that even if it wasn't visible, your body was nearly 10x as horny as Aonung was.
You wanted him.
But you knew you couldn't mate here, and certainly not like this.
'Leave, leave leave', your mind screamed as your feet took step after step of their own volition after him.
You worried for a second that somebody would call out to you and ask where you were going, but a part of you knew that everyone had already worked out the nature of what was going on with you two. They had all been staring at you after he slapped your ass, so they must have.
"I'll just talk to him", you finally muttered to yourself as you set off in a faster pace, going off to find him.
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formosusiniquis · 1 year
Text
y'know like barbie
ao3
It's Erica who gives him the idea, incidentally. Though she carries herself with a maturity that far surpasses the boys most days and though she's been through multiple life altering events, she does continue to only be eleven. Which is, it turns out, prime babysitting age.
The Sinclairs are going out of town overnight, it's their anniversary -- 18 blissful years, since our marriage can vote we thought we deserved a night away -- and they don't want Erica to spend the night home alone.
Enter Steve, who the Sinclairs trust with their children and who is inexplicably the only person Erica would accept staying the night with her. Steve honestly didn't believe it even as Mrs. Sinclair was saying it. But he smiles and nods, looks over the emergency numbers on the fridge when they're pointed to, nods at the money on the counter for food that he probably won't take, and waves as they walk out the door promising that he and Erica will be fine for the night and not to worry.
It's only when their car is out of the driveway and the door is shut that Steve realizes he isn't really a babysitter. He is a keep children alive while in a dangerous situation and when the situation is over drive them around because you feel bad that their childhoods have been marred by trauma-er which doesn't have quite the same ring as babysitter, and it's a lot harder to say with that rude tone the boys have been favoring. He also realizes that he's never actually dealt with children, or not girl children. The boys had all been older than Erica, when he had started keeping them alive. Max was definitely basically a teenager when he started really dealing with her; and she was usually okay to do what the boys wanted to do, like go to the arcade. Hopper didn't really trust him with El and that was fine, he wasn't sure he trusted himself with El either.
It put him in an awkward spot now though. Staring at Erica in her kitchen, a little afraid to ask the question on the front of his mind which was "What now?"
So he asks the second question on his mind, "What do you want to do that isn't eat ice cream all night?"
Say what you will about Steve Harrington, and a lot has been said, but he always keeps his promises and he always brings a pint of ice-cream for Erica to have when he comes over to the Sinclair house. Tonight he brought three, all different weird flavors he thought she'd like to try.
"Why can't I eat ice cream all night?" She says it with a challenge in her eyes, but he'd bet dollars to donuts that she's just doing it to make him sweat. "Because I've seen you eat ice cream, we've only got enough for two hours at most." His hand migrates as if of its own mind to his hip. "You need more than two people for Dungeons and Dragons, right?"
Her brows raise, for the first time since he's met her Erica Sinclair is stunned silent. Maybe she's just surprised he got the name right.
It lasts about as long as it takes him to notice it. "You'd play Dungeons and Dragons with me?" There's something fragile in the way she asks, and there is the eleven year old girl she's meant to be. 
"Sure, you'd have to show me how, but if that's what you want to do I'm game."
Eyes narrowed in a distinctly intimidating way he kind of thinks she stole from Nancy, he does his best to make his sincerity clear on his face. "We need more than two people, but I've got something else we can do if you think your fragile manhood can take it."
He's got a retort at the tip of his tongue about just what his manhood can take and remembers just in time that yeah probably shouldn't make a joke like that in front of an actual child. "My pride isn't that delicate, I think I can handle anything you dish out."
"Famous last words."
He follows her to her bedroom, waiting outside the doorway to let her space stay private until he's told to come in. A clear plastic tub slides out from under her bed, out of sight but easily accessible and when the lid pops off he gets why. Rows of Barbies stacked neatly on top of each other, a mass grave for childhood. Steve has a stuffed bear, fur rubbed off of one ear, tucked up on the shelf of his closet that also got put away sooner than he would have chosen to, when it was too babyish.
“Alright, so who is the, like, elven warrior.”
“That’s not how you play Barbies.”
It’s snapped so fast that he thinks it embarasses her. He tactfully avoids eye contact, pulling out a doll with blonde hair snipped into a professional, if uneven, bob and a green skirt set. She's missing a shoe. “Then how do I play Barbies?”
“That one just won the Nobel Peace Prize, she solved world hunger, but she has plans to kill the Barbie who won the prize in Physics because she stole Barbie One’s research and gave it to NASA claiming it was her own.”
“Right, of course.” This was the kind of shit that happened on Dallas, only Barbie had a lot more awards. “And they’re all called Barbie?”
“Except for Ken, but Ken doesn’t do anything.”
“Well if Barbie just won the Peace Prize wouldn’t she use Ken to kill Barbie so she doesn’t get caught.”
Erica manages a look that is both condescending and considerate. “Barbie can do anything, including get away with murder; but she wouldn’t want to dirty her hands with that sort of thing.”
“And if Ken goes to jail it’s no loss.”
“Right.”
-
So maybe it's more accurate to say that Dustin actually starts it.
Dustin with the shittiest attitude this side of the Ohio, something Robin blames him for.
“Like father, like son.”
“Dustin doesn’t even know his dad.”
“I mean you and Eddie, dingus.”
“I am not that kid's dad. A brotherly figure at best, strong male role model more likely.”
“He’s a bitch because you are, Steve. Maybe if your and Eddie’s love language wasn’t being as bitchy as possible it wouldn’t have rubbed off on your kid.”
“Please don’t put Dustin and rubbing off in the same paragraph let alone the same thought wave.”
Dustin comes sprinting into Family Video on a Tuesday afternoon. “Steve! I need your car.”
“Did you learn how to drive when I wasn’t paying attention?”
“Obviously, I meant I need you too.” His hands are on his hips, eyes rolled. Shit maybe he did get it from Steve. “There’s this theoretical physicist coming to Notre Dame to give a talk on the Multiverse Theory.”
Steve was allowing himself a second to consider whether this was worth it, for once, instead of just blindly agreeing to drive Dustin wherever. The drive sucked ass, but it would put him close enough to Chicago that he could try to find a music store that would carry albums from the international metal bands Eddie couldn’t stop talking about.
It was a second too long for Dustin. “Steve, a theoretical physicist-”
See Steve had this suspicion that the kids did actually think he was an idiot. He was pretty sure that none of them, hell maybe none of Hellfire, save for Lucas realized that every athlete in the school had to keep up at least a 2.5 GPA. Which might not have been anything to write home about but Steve kept a 3.2 for most of high school, until the multiple concussions started to catch up with him. He wasn’t stupid, was the point and even if they didn’t think he was an idiot in a mean way he was a little sick of the shit.
“I know, like Barbie.”
That shuts Dustin up real quick.
“N- no, not like Barbie! Barbie is some girl's toy.”
“Excuse me?” Robin, who told Steve that she would not help him parent his children on work days or any other day ending in y had remembered that Martes doesn’t have one and her shift was almost over. “What does that mean, exactly, a girl’s toy?”
“And,” Steve adds, because he can and because Eddie made him drive him to fucking Bloomington because he was fixated on time travel and needed access to some science journal that only existed at Indiana U apparently, “Barbie is on a research team looking for the Higgs particle so she can start figuring out time travel.”
The bell chiming as Dustin leaves has never sounded sweeter.
He’ll definitely end up taking the twerp to stupid Notre Dame.
-
The thing is that Steve thinks he’s never really stopped being a bitch.
He doesn’t want to stop. He likes being bitchy. It’s fun, when you’re doing it with people you like it’s pretty funny, and honestly he’s kinda like Spiderman. With great power comes great responsibility, he’s only bitchy responsibly now.
And it’s actually perfectly responsible as an older brother type babysitter figure to correct the behavior of the younger siblings by being bitchy. If they don’t learn at home they’ll go out in the world thinking that kind of behavior is acceptable, see Steve Harrington in his early high school days who talked to people like his father did.
So when Mike interrupts El with, “I’m not going to ask Steve, he probably doesn’t even know what a Pulitzer is either.”
He says, “Oh, yeah like Barbie won. Or Nancy will someday, probably. It’s a journalism award, Wheeler.”
And when Lucas corrects, “I don’t actually think you can win an award for comics. It’s still really great though, Will!”
“Barbie won the Kirby Award in 1985 for best artist, I’m sure Will is soon to follow.”
Or when Nancy tells Holly, “Are you sure you wouldn’t want to be something important instead?”
“You could be an actress and do something cool like go to space if you want, Hols, like Barbie.” And maybe he says it with a little more bitch than he should that time, but he’s seen the ballerinas in Nancy’s room, she didn’t always want to be an investigative journalist.
It gets to be second nature. When someone starts being shitty about something or to lighten the mood.
Erica doubts whether she should run for student council. It's her first step to being actual president, like Barbie.
Dustin makes a crack about Steve's possible future prospects when he butts in on a conversation between Steve and Robin. "I could do all three, I could be a counselor and a hair stylist and an engineer. Maybe I'll add EMT too, Barbie wouldn't stop at three, why should I?"
Or when Mike sneers at him, "What are you a cop?" All because Steve told him not to buy weed now that Eddie had stopped dealing.
"Ew, no, because you look like a fresh-faced little narc trying to be cool and you're gonna get ripped off."
"What so not like Barbie?"
"The Barbie world has achieved equality at a level that it doesn't need the cops." Eddie sometimes has to get high after a run in with Powell or Calahan who he still doesn't really trust after the spring. Steve has been treated to many a lecture on why the police were a waste of resources.
He lets Mike sit with that for a minute before he adds, "Like Barbie, I am very cool and know what it looks like when I'm being taken for a ride. If you're gonna get pot from someone other than Eddie, ask Hop where he used to get all of his shit."
It doesn't feel stupid, until El comes running into the cabin one afternoon that Steve has decided to join the rebuilding effort. It’s actually just him and Hop, who has started trying to quietly parent him, something he’s not entirely convinced isn’t revenge for telling Wheeler that Hop has smoked pot before. Steve is pretty sure El was crying when she came in, something he bumps up to a certainty when he sees how awkward Hop looks right now.
“You mind taking that kid? It’s been a long time since high school.” he rubs the back of his neck, Steve does appreciate that he has the decency to feel weird about asking. “If it’s anything outside of big brother shit I can take over.”
He does let himself get suckered by that big brother line.
El is facedown on her bed in a clear ‘leave me alone I’m crying’ pose but he figures he’s already here it’s not like he can turn around and tell Hop that he was too afraid to approach a crying teenage girl. Like that wasn’t the whole reason he’d been sent in the first place. “Hey Ellie, can I come in?”
She sits up, tear tracks plain on her face but no more are falling, and nods in that endearing, aggressively certain way she’s got. “Is everything okay?” He pauses and asks, “Was it Mike?” because he knows that’ll be the first thing Hopper asks when Steve comes back out.
“You are worse than Dad.”
“That stings, Ellie Bell.”
She takes a deep breath, steeling an already impressive will, “Lucas says it is okay to just want to be happy right now, but all they talk about is what they are going to do. Dustin is talking about going to admission early, Will talks about talking to Dad and Joyce about art school, Lucas worries about his sports and scholarships, and Mike talks about classes that count twice. I do not know what I want to be. I do not know why I have to be anything.”
“You guys have been through a lot. I don’t think anyone would blame you for taking time to just be a kid.”
“What if I never want to be something? What if I do not ever want to go to college?”
He’s made his way over to the bed with her, sits tentatively on the edge like he’s seen Joyce do before. “Then you don’t. You’ll probably have to get a job at some point, but that doesn’t have to be what you are. Lucas isn’t a landscaper just because he mows lawns in the summer.”
“You don’t think Dad would be upset?” she asks.
“I don’t think there’s anything you could do that would really make Hop mad. And you might change your mind. I've been out of school for almost two years and I’m only thinking about college now. Or you could go to college and change your mind about what you want to be. You could be a hundred things, you could be anything! Like Barbie.”
He feels like an idiot almost immediately. A jerk quickly after that. He’s made El’s genuine crisis part of his stupid running joke. But something settles in the room. The underlying tension, the thing that had the hair on the back of his neck raised. He realizes, now, that her powers had probably also been on edge.
"Like Barbie." She says it with a graven seriousness, like Steve's dumb little joke is a mantra now.
"Yeah, and you're a sophomore you don't have to have your whole life figured out right now. And don't take life advice from Henderson anyway, he thought it was a good idea to raise an Upside Down slug as a pet."
He mostly just used it to be a bitch though. Because it was fun. No, it was what he was good at. So good at it he didn't even have to try.
Because Steve had a plan to be bitchy. Specifically to Mike Wheeler who kept flirting with Steve’s boyfriend while taking advantage of his hospitality. Sure it was at their stupid Dungeons and Dragons game, and yeah Steve was the one who said they could host the game at his house now that Eddie had graduated. Yes, he knew Eddie didn't mean anything by it when he responded and usually didn't flirt back with the kids. But it was still the kind of behavior that had to be gently corrected, for Mike's sake because if he didn't stop things were going to get drastic.
His initial plan is already in action. He encouraged El to come along to watch the Party play. It was, admittedly, a half hearted plan. Wheeler got so awkward anytime El was around he mostly just hoped that would keep him from trying anything.
It isn't. Eddie starts to describe a new character, "Blonde and statuesque, she has a long bow in hand and delicate elven features."
And even though El is sitting a few feet from him Mike perks up the way he always does when there's a new NPC to flirt with. He is going to have to have a talk with Eddie about letting the kid try out a bard.
He does at least have one other tool in his belt. "Oh, like Barbie."
Steve knew what he'd get as he said it. A groan from Dustin, who falls for this as being sincere about as often as he falls for the dumb-dumbs and dipshits line -- which is everytime for the record. Will and Lucas keep their laughs small, enough that they're covered by Erica's snort. The original Hellfire crew mostly looks confused, it's becoming less and less their default as they warm up to the Steve he is rather than the Steve they thought they remembered; but he likes to keep them on their toes.
Eddie is charmed. He can tell. Sees him duck his head behind his screen and his binders, trying to preserve the stern and scary dungeon master image. That apparently isn't possible if you're smiling like an idiot at your stupid boyfriend, so he's been told.
And Mike has maybe been on the wrong end of the joke a few more times than everyone else. He turns an interesting shade of red, two parts anger and one part embarrassed is Steve's guess. The foot stomp is unexpected, but he expects its been passed down the Wheeler line as a shared signal of outrage. "Not like Barbie, this isn't some stupid kids game. She's probably a hot, wisened archer ready to reward us for helping her village, not some stupid doll that you're obsessed with."
Eddie's blank face with the twitchy eyes has fallen into place when he sits back up from behind his screen. His things aren't going according to plan, panicked face. "I think that's a good place to end things this week. Wheeler, Henderson, Jeff, and Lady Applejack you've all cleared enough experience to level right? Do that before next week."
Steve knows enough to keep his mouth shut while everyone packs up to leave. Sends a small smile to Erica on her way out to the family minivan, he knows she struggles a little being the youngest at the table even if she won't say it. He has to imagine that the outburst had stung a bit.
"You gotta be nicer to little Wheeler." Eddie chides once everyone is gone, halfhearted at best when he's telling Steve off into the soft skin of his neck. When he feels the admonishment more than hears it.
"I'm not mean to Mike." He says on instinct, he does try not to be. "And he started it."
"Definitely think you started the Barbie thing, Sweetheart."
And well, yeah. "I Barbie all the kids equally."
Eddie hmms Steve can feel the vibration of it through his back and on his neck. Eddie is about to start something he better plan on finishing. "He asked Hop where he should get weed."
Oh. "I didn't think he'd actually do it!" And then, "Is that why he keeps flirting with you, revenge?"
"No, he's got a bunch of misplaced jealousy because Will and the girls think you're hot." He toys with the edge of Steve's shirt as he says it. Perpetually cold fingers brushing the clothes warmed skin beneath making him shiver.
"The girls don't think I'm hot."
He hums again, nips at the blush red skin at Steve's neck. "El used to, Max definitely has a taste for jock.
"That's not my fault, you let Mike play a bard." He wishes he didn't sound so desperate.
"Wanted to leave the Paladin spot open for you, baby."
"I'm starting to feel convinced, we could go upstairs and you could show me your character sheet."
The things he'll say to get laid.
"Don't think I can do that Stevie, smooth as a Ken doll down there. Could show you the actual character sheet though." 
His back is cold as Eddie pulls away, smirking unrepentant as he lets Steve have the tiniest taste of his own medicine.
"Barbie has a very active sex life, actually." He's never been one not to double down. "Let me show you the fun we can have without getting your dick out."
-
He does leave it alone for a little while, even though he really, really doesn't want to. But despite what his friends, his fifth grade report card, and his mom might think; Steve is capable of keeping a hold of his worst impulses when he wants to.
So he lets opportunity pass him by.
He makes no comment about Barbie when Eddie talks about how John Carpenter is a film auteur. Not even when Dustin tries to define auteur for him. Incorrectly, but Robin comes to Steve's defense.
Barbie goes unmentioned, barely when an argument breaks out about Nobel prize winners, of all things. He thinks the kids argue more now than they ever have like it's the only way they have to get their bloodlust out now that the Upside Down was closed. He was quickly boxed out of the conversation, even if Erica kept sending him little glances over everyone's heads. (She'd let him have Peace Prize Barbie a couple weeks ago and maybe he was a little obsessed.)
Holly wants to be a vet now, a singing vet who is also on TV, but mostly a vet. She tells him all about it while he waits for Mike to find his shoes? Definitely not his quarters for the arcade, the day any of them bring those is the day Steve brings the nail bat back out. He’s one impulse purchase away from getting one of those little coin dispenser belts that the employees have -- Gareth just quit, maybe he still had his? Mike's frown is a little less general annoyance at Steve and a little more confusion when he's finally ready to leave and Barbie has gone unmentioned.
He almost breaks again when Eddie starts talking about sports. Or he starts talking about NASCAR which is close enough for Eddie, he has a surprising taste for racing for someone who never wanted to put his van on the starting line at parties. A woman led a Busch Series race for the first time, what a year '86. He's got no opinion on Barbie's ability to drive at all.
He could let a joke go. He could be nice. It wasn't so out of character that it needed this kind of attention.
-
Mike has forgiven him by the time the next session rolls around. Delayed two weeks after Eddie screamed so loud on stage that he couldn't speak for two days, and then again for Jeff's emergency appendectomy. Eddie has stopped leaving pointed gaps in conversation for Steve to fill with mention of Barbie, he has had his thinking face on instead which is good for Steve about as often as it isn't.
He leaves it alone. A little bit of non-life threatening surprise is good for the soul, or something. Listen, he’s made it this far by only asking questions when shit is about to get really, really bad and Eddie’s thinking face has only resulted in something bad once or twice -- and they probably should have spent more than a couple minutes negotiating that particular kink anyway.
When the kids start showing up and nothing has come from the thinking face, he assumes it was just for them anyway. He settles in to see whatever shit Eddie is going to do.
"From the ditch you pull a human man, a paladin. His plate is dirtied by his time on the ground but clearly gleams in its typical state. He's handsome, a square jaw and fluffy brown hair-"
"Ugh is this Steve? You already made us do a quest for him," Mike complains, maybe he hasn’t completely forgiven Steve for that last interruption.
Steve has, by his own count been the inspiration for at least three NPCs for this campaign: a white light faction rogue, Sol, that the party had to rescue from the dungeons of the nightmare King after he was caught sneaking into the bedrooms of the prince -- like it was Steve's fault that Wayne had super hearing; a young fighter from the gladiatorial combat ring who helped the party rescue a group of kidnapped children that were going to be used as bait in the next round of fights; and the most obvious Prince Stefan who sent the party on a quest to kill his betrothed a Duke called Thomas the Boarish and rescue his knight Rowen and beloved Bard Edwin -- it's not like he could unkiss Tommy, and he could be a dick but boarish was dramatic. 
He was not this paladin, assuming Eddie was telling the truth about saving the Paladin he'd made for Steve.
"Cut the out of character chatter, Michael, before it starts counting in game. The Paladin before you is handsome in a bland, approachable, non-threatening way," Mike opens his mouth again, how is that not like Steve surely perched at the edge of his tongue and stopped in its tracks by elbows from Erica and Joey. "He introduces himself to his rescuer, Will the Wise, 'Thank you, kind sir, I would have been down there for ages before my lady noticed my absence. I am Sir Kenneth.'"
"What deity does he serve?" Will asks, something suspicious drawing across his face.
"Is there a holy symbol on his armor?" Gareth follows up. Gareth has been backing a lot of Will's plays lately, Steve thinks something might be going on there but he hasn't wanted to deal with Eddie teasing him for being a meddling matchmaker, again.
"There is no identifiable holy symbol on his clothes or armor." Eddie says, there's a mischief in his eyes, the way he tilts his head with quiet challenge and smiles.
"What God do you serve?" Erica asks, blunt and to the point. She gets cranky when her rogue doesn't have anything to stab.
"'The Lady in Pink,' he answers."
Any time Eddie reveals lore shit there's always a bunch of people talking over top of each other. It always turns into the kind of mass blob of shouting that Steve has a hard time parsing out, especially these days. Eddie somehow manages to distinguish not only people but the things they're saying and keeps his cool enough to keep the story going.
"Roll your insight, Gareth. Jeff, with a 15 history check, you have heard some whisperings from your homeland about a newly ascended goddess but not a name. Dustin, you're not getting shit with a 5 don't even try that but my back story says shit with me. Will, pretty sure that's a cleric spell but I'll let you have it he's a Neutral Good alignment. An 18, shit, yeah Garebear he does seem to be telling the truth that is the deity he follows; but that isn't the whole truth, you know a lot of the newer pantheon have a colloquial name and a true name."
"I'm sorry," Lucas says, "we aren't familiar with your lady. What can you tell us about her? Why would she leave you there? And that's a 14 on persuasion before you even ask."
"Why would I have asked that, Sinclair the elder? He has stars in his eyes when he speaks, 'before she ascended she was already limitless. A powerful warrior, an expert marksman, a mage beyond compare. Her power grew and grew until the only place left to explore was godhood.'"
"And what's her real name, if we wanted to spread the word?" Joey asks.
"'Oh she's everything. She's the lady in pink, she's the goddess with the golden mane, but before she ascended she favored one name I assume she has kept it.'"
"What is it?" Mike asks, perched at the edge of his seat.
"Oh no," Dustin whispers, a dawning horror on his face.
"'Barbara, though she preferred it shortened. Nicknames you call them," Steve sees the joke, knows where this is going a split second before reality breaks through the haze of fantasy for the players around the table. Eddie's smirking now, smile too pleased and too attractive. "'Y'know like Barbie?'"
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itneverendshere · 4 months
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alrighty imagine rafe feeling jealous for the first time in his life and absolutely not knowing how to navigate through it, so he just takes it out on you 🤗 he's down bad so it's funny
just a lil something for y'all:
rafe cameron does not get jealous.
why would he? he has the world at his feet—wealth, status, popularity, and seemingly limitless opportunities. got everything he wants and needs in his perfect kook-life, right? there’s absolutely nothing that could make him envious of others. he’s been moving through life with a sense of entitlement, accustomed to getting what he wants when he wants it.
that earth-shattering confidence translates into his sexual life. if there was such a thing as mastering the subtle art of not giving a fuck, god, he’d get a nobel prize for that shit. 
rafe likes to indulge in the pleasures of his fantastic mortal life without the burden of attachment of commitment, just thinking about tying himself up to someone else makes him want to drive his jeep into the nearest wall. 
that’s not the life he wants. that kind of bullshit gets people depressed or killed; he’s seen enough of that kind of misery in his lifetime. 
he knows he’s got a reputation by now. it precedes him, and he revels in it. and people say he’s a bad guy? please, he’s doing the entire female community a favor. there’s no point in restricting his independence for one person. 
no feelings involved, no clinging, and no, he’s not fucking cuddling someone after he just blew his load into their back. The women he involves himself with know what they’re getting themselves into when they open their pretty legs for him.
 it’s great. 
no stupid headaches, no fights, no “why didn’t you text me back?”, complete radio silence unless they want something from him or vice versa. sure, there have been a few girls who needed a collective reminder of his rules, which he does by always cutting them off.
no one’s ever made him want to throw his philosophy out the window. can you imagine that happening? rafe cameron…feeling…something other than complete horniness for someone else? enough to make him want to commit capital murder when someone else thinks they’re entitled to touch what’s his?
no, of course not.
that’d be insane. completely impossible. rafe cameron would never get his perfect hands dirty with filth. not in this universe or lifetime. 
or so he thought. 
“you have a real problem, you know that?”
if looks could kill he’d be seven feet under. you’re shooting daggers at him through your pretty eyes, hands settling on your hips. if he wasn’t raging with misplaced anger issues, he’d tell you how fucking beautiful you look tonight.
“me?” rafe grits out as he sticks his fingers into his chest, “you want to talk about problems, sweetheart?” his words drip with venom, a thinly veiled attempt to deflect the intensity of his own emotions.
you don’t back down, though, gaze steady and unwavering as you meet his challenge, “i’m not the one who just punched the living shit out of someone else!”
rafe's lip curl into a mocking smirk. "whose fault is that?” he quips, the barb aimed squarely at your intellect.
a violent urge to strangle him takes hold of you, anger nipping at your skin, “what the hell is wrong with you?”
he doesn’t know why he did it. all he remembers was that in that moment, while watching you entertain someone else, he wanted to snap someone’s neck in half. and he’d be damned if he didn't get what he wanted. 
rafe’s head tilts, oh so slowly, to the side, pretty blue eyes burning your skin, “i’m not the one letting some sleazy bastard get their hands under my slutty dress.”
that didn’t come out right. 
it made much more sense in his head. he doesn’t want to admit it, doesn’t want to acknowledge the gnawing jealousy that threatens to consume him whole.
“slutty dress?! this is vintage versace you possessive lunatic!”
“so fucking what?” he saunters closer, seemingly calm, except that’s the one thing that he never is, “did they run out of fabric in Italy?”
you watch him, a little mesmerized by the way the moonlight accentuates his features, heart pounding. he stops in front of you.
you must’ve taken a good hit to the head if you believe rafe cameron feels anything for you besides some sort of allure to your cunt. you know better than that. you open your mouth to speak, but rafe’s quick to lift one of his hands, tapping your lip with his finger.
“this is supposed to be like— a casual thing, right?” he exhales a breath, voice barely louder than a murmur.
you tip your chin up, “what are you getting at?’”
 “no strings. so, i really shouldn't be this fucking pissed about seeing you post a picture with that asshat face, smiling, his arm around you. that stupid fucking caption.”
straightening your posture, you don’t let his sugar-coated confession get to you, remaining silent for the time being. what’s his deal? is the devil spawn...confessing?
“speaking of photos…i just looked at a really cute one of you before, can you guess which one?”
and watch that picture be the one where you're on all fours in his truck's backseat lmao😃👀
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waywardcrow · 7 months
Text
Boyfriend without benefits.
Think about being so tired for lack of sleep and your usual sunshine personality becomes as grumpy as Bucky’s. When Sam pointed it out, you gave him a glare that sent him running out of the room, it was something Bucky would have find hilarious if it wasn’t for his concern about you. You guys were only friends –you both wanted more but were too dumb to act on your feelings yet- still Nat loved to call him your boyfriend without benefits. Always together, in missions, in family dinners, in movie nights but he always respected your space, barely touching you which drives you crazy but just like him, his limits were important to you. That’s why it was a surprise when he took you by the hand and away from a very scared Tony who made the mistake of joking about the purple under your eyes and vampires. “Where are we going James?” He almost tensed, you never called him that before. “To get you to sleep, you need it doll.” Bucky steadied you when you tripped. It was true but nothing you tried worked: medicine, essential oils, even asmr. You only slept these days when you were in the brink of collapse. “But I can’t.” you pouted when he stopped in front of his door. He found you so fucking adorable that couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s give it a try, ok? For me.” He added before you could complain. Being sleep deprived as you were, you didn’t ask why you were in his room and not yours or complained when he took your shoes off and help you lay on his pillows. Your body welcomed the comfort of his sheets, his scent lingering in them and making you close your eyes before rolling on your side to hug him. “Come here” too drunk on him, you put your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat drifting you to sleep. Bucky ran his fingers carefully through your hair. Almost sleeping, you let out a chuckle and he looked at you with such love in his eyes that it would have woke you up if you were looking at him. “What?” “Nat is right” you mumbled “you are my boyfriend without benefits.” If you were more awake the embarrassment will never let you stay placidly in his chest but you barely registered your words, Bucky in the other hand broke a smile and give you a kiss in the nose. “Have a good night of sleep and I can give you the benefits later.” He promised. You slept better than ever.
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rimaiahwrites · 7 months
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more looks into the life of connie and his princess puh-leeze !!! that fic was so cute i’m obsessed
YESS I LOVE THEM SO HERE YALL GOO
(This soo late lol imma edit it tomorrow sorry about any mistakes) kinda short too but anywho
Connie’s good girl
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The school year has been so rough for y/n, you have been more stressed than ever and was nearly burnt out. Connie knew this and was helping as much as he could but a lot of the time he was also busy with making drops and making ‘business’ plans with ony so when he was very pleased to see you running in the living room with a piece of paper in your hand waving it around with a big grin. “Pa look, look!” You said extremely excited. He grabbed the paper and realized it was your report card and it had only As and A pluses on it, no B or C in sight. He grinned before picking you up and spinning you around in his arms, “Good job princess, all AS!” He kissed your cheeks than your neck making you squeal and giggles since you were so ticklish. “I knew you could do it mama.” You smiled shyly, it always felt good to get so much praise from Connie, other then yourself he was the only person you ever truly wanted to make proud.
“You proud of me papa?” You grinned standing up on your tippy toes to kiss him on the lips. “Mhm very proud I think my princesa need some rewards.” You beamed with glee because that means Connie was going to get you whatever you wanted. You were already spoiled as it is but now that he had a real reason to spoil you today you knew it was going to be something special.
You went to get ready right away. You sported a mini flare skirt with a cute colorfully cropped top with spaghetti straps and pink kitten heels. Your hair was in a half up half down style with two ponytails. You were very cute to say the least.
“You look cute today mama, hope you got sum’ under this short ass skirt tho.” Connie said walking up to you running his hands to you ass to check. You rolled your eyes playfully, of course you did because you knew he didn’t play about any of that with his. “Yes I do now let’s gooo” you say pulling him to the front door. You connected your phone to his Bluetooth in his all black hellcat because of course You being the princess passenger you always got to play your music in the car unless you wanted to hear his. Connie speed out of his driveway like a damn crazy man you were truly surprised he hasn’t gotten into any car accidents with the way he drives, him being a speed racer makes it no better either.
Once you were in the mall it was like a kid in a candy store, you were pulling him to every store your eyes landed on, you got sneakers, heels, couple of bags, cute clothes makeup really anything your little heart desired and Connie was right there supporting you pulling his card out as soon as you stepped up to the cashier. It made your heart swell every time he did too, not just because he was spending his money on you but because he truly treated you like a little princess.
“Con which one?” You asked holding up two bags one dark pink and the other light pink. “I don’t know baby which ever one you want.” Connie mumbled kissing you on the cheek. You huffed and pouted “that’s why I asked you I don’t know what I want papa.” You rolled your eyes still looking at both of them not paying any attention to your surroundings clearly because the older white lady standing closely behind gasped and eyed you shocked at the pet name that you normally addressed Connie as. Connie snorted a chuckle looking the lady in the eye and pointed to the dark pink one. “That one you got a lot of clothes it will match with plus papa loves you in that color.” He said pulling you close and sliding his hand down to you ass gripping it a bit inwardly laughing at the white haired women awkwardly trying to avoid eye contact. You grinned and placed the other one down planting a big kiss on his shape jawline. “I think this is all I want pa let’s go home my feet hurt.” You cried playfully limping a bit.
Connie walked out the mall with Seven bags filled in his arms and you clinging on to him like a koala bear because your feet were hurting to bad from the heel and Connie of course spoiled you to no end and one little whine from you and next thing you knew you were being carried to the car.
“Thank you for all this I really appreciate it” You shyly admit, he was so fine that sometimes it intimidated you a little like his side profile, the neck tattoos going all the way down his arm and hand. He smiled back and leaned over to place a kiss on your soft lips. “You’re welcome mama, my pretty girl so polite let’s get home so I can give you your other presents.” He smirked as he bit and tugged on your bottom lip softly making you whine and clench your legs tightly.
-
Connie pulled his gaming chair to the mirror in his bedroom and pulled his shirt off, his tattoos on his chest now visible, you had just gotten out of the shower and you had nothing on but one of his big black t shirt. No Panties or bra. “C’mer.” You walked over to him with shaking legs knowing he was about to fuck you dumb. He pulled you on his lap and got started on your neck, kissing gently and pushing his hands under you makeshift nightgown and squeezed your boobs making you moan out a little bit. You bite your lip and watched him through the mirror. He was being so gentle with you like you were made of glass, you rubbed your legs together making your slick spend from your entrance to your clit. Connie quickly caught on and grinned against your neck. “be patient mama imma get to it.” You tried your best to slow your breathing but he was in your ear whispering and touching you. You were getting turned on very quickly. Connie ignored your needy moan and continued on with the teasingly foreplay before he pulled you against his chest and pulled your legs apart opening you up.
Your breath got caught in your throat when you saw your pink insides and Connie staring holes into mirror. “Look at this pretty pink pussy…so wet is that all for me?” You were quick on nodding your head. “I know.” He took his hand and rubbed his fingers up and down your slit slowly, killing you on the inside. He rubbed your clit for a beat before sliding his thick fingers in. Your pussy was already clenching onto him. “Ah-mm please go faster” you moaned. He nodded before he stroked his fingers deeper hitting your spot. Your eyes rolled shut and leaned your head back on his shoulder. “That feel good? Tell papa let me hear you.” You tried your best but only a pathetic whine was heard. That was good enough for him..for now. He pulled his fingers from you and placed them in his mouth sucking your cum off. “Why’d you stopp?” Your spoiled ass whine kicking your foot up a little. He chuckled and flipped your around so you were facing him. “Cuz I want you to cum on my dick not my fingers now stop whining.” He pulled his sweatpants down and his dick strung out, it’s tip was pink and wet with prenut.
“Come get up on it mama.” He pulled you up higher so you were above him and rubbed his tip up and down your slit before dipping in your sweet warm pussy. Your eyes widened from the shock it had only been a few days since he had given you dick but it was so big to you that you didn’t think you’ll ever get over the shook of his tip sliding in. “P-pa- ehhh” he looked up at you seeing the look of discomfort on your face. “I know it’s all the way in.” He said before slamming you down on it. “Oh fuck! Oh fuuuuckkk!” You moaned placing your hand on his shoulders trying to balance yourself but that was all thrown off because he started thrusting from up underneath you.
You gasped loudly grabbing his shoulders. “Waitt papa wait!” He smirked and thrusted harder, his dick hitting your g spot perfectly everyday. Your finger nails gripped into his strong tattooed arm.
“Yeahhh I’m getting in that pussy huhh mama” he said his voice raspy and deep, his tongue folded on his bottom lip. Your pussy was so tight and gripping his dick so good. You nodded your head already feeling out of it.
“Tell me how it feel baby…tell daddy.”
“Good, feel good daddyy.” You whine trying to sit up to ride him, you got up on your toes and laid your hands on his torso, he grinned big watching you “you gon ride like a big girl? Oh you acting outta character today princess.” You giggled but as soon as you sunk down you quickly remembered why you didn’t ride him often. “Go ahead you can do it baby.” You slowly but surely begin going quickly hitting deeper than before. Your knees knocked together when it started getting a little to deep and good.
“Gimme it! Gimme that daddy dick papa please I been a good girl promise!” You went on and on.
“Get it than mama you in control right now.” Connie said through small groans, you shook your head you wanted to keep going but all your strength was getting zapped. You fall onto his chest shaking like a leaf, his dick popping out. “Aw princess I thought you was gonna be a big girl and take it?” Connie chuckled smacking your ass making you jump a little.
“Papa I tried it’s just so hard and my legs aren’t that strong.” You pouted.
“That’s ok, that’s why I go to the gym.” He chuckled and picked you up by your legs and put his dick back in.
He Bounced you up and down, your loud wails were surely heard by the neighbors but Connie couldn’t give a fuck he was making his pretty girl feel good and that all that mattered to him…and you. You felt like you were in a whole different dimension you were hearing color and seeing sounds, your eyes felt like they were permanently crossed.
Connie loved your fucked out face, the drool and tears making you even prettier.
“M’ gonna nut daddy please don’t wanna make a mess on the floor waitt!” You sobbed, Connie ignored you and pounded harder because that’s exactly what he wanted.
“I know baby I know gimme that juice it’s okay daddy will clean it up.” He smiled gripping your face with one hand and the other holding you up, he placed a sweet kiss on your lips.
You whined against his lips and let it all out on his dick and floors. “There we gooo, mhmm.” He groaned rubbing his pink tip up and down your slit making your cum fling all over the both of you. You placed your face in his neck embarrassed hearing the loud splashing sounds. He smiled and waited to until your breathing evened out before setting you down on his bed. “You gonna suck daddy up?”
“Mhmm” You hummed giving him the prettiest smile before bringing his dick up to your lips.
“Daddies need to get spoiled too sometimes.”
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quinton-reviews · 4 months
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Hi Quinton!! I have been a HUGE fan of your stuff since a friend sent me the Tobuscus Fallen Titans (I used to watch him back in high school and was like "huh, wonder what happened to him after those allegations") and I gotta say, it is REALLY FUNNY every time my fiancé and I watch the iCarly videos again, because when you cover Gibby's stunt double breaking his ribs, you cut to a clip of The Official Podcast. I used to play D&D with one of the main dudes from the podcast, so when he talks during that clip I do a goddamn double take literally every time.
Anyways, I remember an original Patreon stretch goal being a Fallen Titans on Homestuck! I was really big into Homestuck in my early 20s, and was wondering if that's still on the table at some point? If not that's fine, I understand plans change! I just love Fallen Titans lol, the Fred episode and the Neil Cicierega unFallen Titans are some of my favorite videos of yours!
That's a real funny story!
So here's the rundown on the Homestuck video. When I first started making long videos, they were actually inspired by the relationship I had with other YouTubers at the time. I used to watch, like, H3H3 and Filthy Frank, etc; and I'd always see people obsessed with the versions of creators from the past. Like, "Oh 2015 H3 was the best" and "Oh 2012 Frank was peak." So I had this idea that it would be crazy if H3 posted, like, a video he spent a decade on and you got a new video with 2015 H3 10 years on. (I don't watch H3 anymore ironically)
So the original idea for the "long video" format was that it would be cool if, throughout a long, analysis/review/recap video, you kept noticing someone get older. Maybe my months, maybe by years. That's why I always like to get a haircut when I start one of these videos. If you scrub through and you see my hair get longer and messier as it goes on I think that adds something magical you can't fake.
So... My pitch to the Homestuck video was that it would be funny to work on it just once per year. To record one segment, say "That's it for 12 months", and then come back around to it. And when I was making the iCarly and Victorious videos I actually recorded a few minutes of the video! I think it was two segments in total. But then I had a bunch of personal stuff happen and my work drive has been much lower, so any "back burner" video hasn't gotten much attention since then.
Now that the iCarly mini-series is done with, I want to focus on some short one-off videos I can make before April. But once that's done with, I would REALLY love to start work on a few more long-term projects which will take months or years to finish. I think returning to work on the Homestuck video, to at least get the first 20-30 minutes done, would be a great idea this summer.
Now, if you want to know my pitch for that video, here it is. The video is not a recap of the creative history of the franchise. I do not get into drama, community hell, lawsuits, or other YouTubers. My idea is this: you always hear about Homestuck as an outsider but you never hear about the actual content. Most franchises on Earth I know something about, even and especially if I've never been interested in them. I can tell you a bunch of facts about wrestling and MLP and the Fast and the Furious simply through cultural osmosis and having friends who are into those things.
I can't tell you the plot of Homestuck, who the characters are, what the themes are, nothing. I've known a lot of people who were into Homestuck but nothing about the series!
So I thought it would thus be funny to make a video about a bunch of people who know nothing about the series starting from the beginning and giving their reactions, even if it's been years since it all started. I call this part of the video the "Homestuck Book Club." So the next step is me picking out the members (who all have to have no history with it) and making sort of a podcast setup. We'd then read and record every six months or so, IDK.
This is why the video has been stuck in production hell! Everyone who wants to work on it and messages me about it already knows the franchise. I don't want spoilers, I don't want people writing for the video who get it already. I want to capture the "what the fuck is this" energy of three dudes just getting in the middle of it.
Also, I think that I really like the theme of the video capturing our lives as they go by, capturing us aging and changing. If you came back from the future and told me this video comes out in five years, I'd say great. If you told me it comes out in ten years, I'd say awesome. Until then, the latest edit will always be on Patreon, even if you have to dig a little.
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blackbirdi · 1 month
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One-Sided pt. II
If you haven't read the first part already, the link to part 1 is here
I'm so sorry this took so long, guys, I was struggling with ideas. Anyways, enjoy :)
Brief Description: Sirius begins to notice how suddenly you're around him a lot less than usual. What could he have done to make you want to avoid him at all costs? And why does your avoidance hurt him this much?
Point of View: 3rd Person
Word Count: 2181
Character: Sirius Black x Reader
House: Gryffindor
Year: Sixth Year
Two weeks. It had been two weeks since Sirius has talked to Y/n last, and it's driving him up the wall. The only other time where he doesn't talk to her for that long is during the summer, but at least they owl back and forth non-stop, and now suddenly he hasn't heard her sweet voice in two damn weeks.
And it's not as though he hasn't tried to talk to her. Hell, he's been going out of his way to run into her just to ask what was up with her, but every time she sees him, she runs away. And now she's changed the time of her daily activities (going to the library to read/study, walk in the courtyard, visit Hagrid, etc.) – not that he knew the times she was going by heart before she changed them – so now he can't even run into her then.
Two weeks. Two damn weeks. And he's not going any longer without her.
It was Saturday and the Marauders were all hanging out in their dormitory, and Sirius was itching to find Y/n and beg ask her to forgive him for whatever he must have done to have her ignore him like this.
"Remus," Sirius calls, breaking the silence.
"Hm?" Remus hums, not even bothering to look up from the book he was reading, which only caused Sirius to grow more frustrated.
He closes his eyes before he snaps at Remus, taking a deep breath to calm himself. The only thing that does is cause his eyes to well up with tears. 
Godric, what was up with him? Was Y/n really causing him to get this upset?
When he speaks next, his voice breaks, which causes all the other Marauders to lift their heads and look at Sirius with concern.
"Why won't Y/n talk to me?"
The other three Marauders share a few glances at one another before looking back at Sirius. The pity in their eyes as they look at him causes Sirius to grow frustrated once again.
His eyes, which were previously filled with tears, harden as he wipes them away. His lips pull back into a thin line as he glares down at his own hands.
"She keeps avoiding me! I haven't said anything to her in weeks!" he cries angrily. "And even when I do say something to her, she just ignores me and runs off! Did I do something to make her mad at me?"
"I'm sure you didn't do anything, Padfoot," James tries to comfort him. "Maybe Y/n just needs space for a while."
"Space from what?" Sirius snaps. "What did I do that would've wanted her to space herself from me? And only me! I haven't seen her ignoring you three, or anyone else for that matter! What did I do!?"
“Pads –” Remus starts, but is quickly interrupted.
“Why do you care so much anyway?” James asks. “It’s just Y/n.”
Sirius, Remus, and Peter all shoot James a glare, all three of them knowing that was not the right thing to ask.
“Yeah, Y/n, my friend,” Sirius sneers. “I care because Y/n is one of my closest friends and now suddenly she’s ignoring me! Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Because it does, a lot.”
“We know, Padfoot,” Peter replies, trying to make his voice sound comforting, although to Sirius it sounded more like pity. “I think James was trying to ask why you’re so … no quiet over dramatic about it … but more upset than you normally would be about something like this.”
“Yeah,” James agrees. “That’s exactly what I was trying to ask, thank you, Pete.”
Sirius glares at the both of them, his teeth gritting together as he tries to hold back from snapping at the two of them.
Why was he upset? Really? One of his best friends just straight up ditched him! Of course he was fucking upset!
“How do you twats not understand that I am upset my friend has fucking abandoned me!” Sirius snarls, his voice wavering as he tries to control his anger.
The others share another, worried glance, which drives Sirius even more insane.
Of course, Remus, James, and Peter quickly caught on that Y/n was avoiding Sirius, and were even quicker to catch on why. It wasn’t that hard to see that Y/n had finally had enough of her silly little crush on Sirius and was trying to stomp it out by avoiding him. And of course, Moony, Prongs, and Wormtail knew that avoiding Sirius at all costs wasn’t going to get rid of Y/n’s feelings for Sirius. And of course, Lupin, Potter, and Pettigrew knew that Sirius’s own feelings towards Y/n were developing beyond friendship.
“I can talk to her if you want me to,” Remus offers.
The usual stormy grey of Sirius’s eyes had darkened considerably in anger, his eyes narrowing at Remus in a glare.
“You’ve done quite a lot of talking to her,” he hisses. “A lot more than I have in Merlin knows how long. Do you know how frustrating that is, Remus? To see that Y/n, who suddenly hates me, is still all buddy-buddy with the three of you? Do you know how shitty it makes me feel when I see her talking to you and then she immediately runs away whenever she sees me? Do you?”
“No,” Remus replies, his voice squeaky at the anger in Sirius’s tone.
"That's what I thought," Sirius snarls, standing up from his bed abruptly.
With quick strides Sirius finds himself at the dormitory door, the door opened an inch before Peter asks curiously, "Where are you going?"
"To fucking find her!" Sirius snaps, turning around and facing his friends. "I can't keep going like this, without her. I - I need her, okay? I need her because ... because I love her. I love her. Holy shit, I love Y/n. I'll be back guys, but I need to find Y/n, even if that means searching every nook and cranny of this godforsaken castle."
He's out the door in another split second, the door slamming closed behind him.
Silence settles over the other three as they share glances, confused evident on each of their faces.
"Well," Remus finally mutters, breaking the silence. "He handled that a lot better than Y/n did when she realized she was in love with Sirius."
–––––––––––
To Sirius's surprise it didn't take him that long to find her. She was sitting in the courtyard, leaning against the truck of a tree with a book on her lap.
Sirius was careful to approach her quietly, not wanting her to spot him and jump up and run away (like she had been doing for two weeks straight).
When Y/n finally looked up from her book, the first thing she saw was Sirius looming in front of her. Her eyes widened as they made eye contact, scrambling to pick up her book and getting to her feet.
"Y/n, wait," Sirius snaps, grabbing onto her wrist with a vice-like grip before she could run away. "Please, don't run again, please."
Y/n sighs, trying to tug her wrist out of Sirius’s grip before she turns and faces him for the first time since the Quidditch game. Her struggling ceases as she sees the pain behind Sirius’s eyes, the pain that she would’ve caused every single time she ignored him or ran away.
“Please, Y/n/n,” he begs in a whisper, pulling her closer to him. “Please, don’t leave me again. I miss you so much. And I am so, so sorry if I did something to hurt you, or did something that made you want to avoid me. I never meant to, I don’t think I have done anything, but if I did just say the word and I will hold myself responsible for it and I will do anything I can to get back in your good graces because I miss you. So, so much. I hate that I haven’t seen you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t talked to you in two weeks, I hate that I haven’t heard your voice in two weeks, and I hate that you’ve been avoiding me. I’m not blaming you because obviously it must have been something I did, but please Y/n, please, please, please stop avoiding me. I miss you.”
A wave of guilt washes over Y/n as she listens to Sirius, watching tears well in his eyes as it gets increasingly harder for him to talk without choking on his words. However, she can't help the little flutter her heart gives at his words.
Sirius takes a breath, trying to collect himself as he finally says everything he was feeling.
"And-and I hate how much it hurts that you've been doing this. I shouldn't care, I really shouldn't, but I do. I care so goddamn much, Y/n. It's been two weeks, two fucking weeks! I shouldn't be this effected, but I am. I've missed you more in two weeks more than I've missed anything else in my life, more than I miss the Marauders during the holidays, more than I miss Hogwarts during the summer, more than I miss the heat of the summer during the winter, more than I miss the sun in a rainstorm. I missed you, Y/n, and it's only been two weeks. So please, please, please, please, tell me what I did wrong so I can right it and we can go back to how we were before whatever I did."
A pause, a heartbeat before Sirius adds in a trembling voice, "Please."
Y/n takes a shaky breath, trying to stop the heat from rising in her cheeks and giving her away.
"Sirius," she says slowly.
"Please," he interrupts her, his voice breaking. "Please, Y/n. I don't know what I did, but whatever it must have been, I am so sorry. Please, please, please forgive me."
"Sirius," Y/n repeats, "you didn't do anything. I just... I realized something and I shut myself away from you. If anything, I should be saying sorry to you. I never meant to hurt you like this."
Sirius stares at her, confusion bubbling up within him as he listens to her explain.
"I-I don't understand," he admits in a quiet voice. Her stares up at her helplessly. "Why would you avoid me like you have if I didn't do anything? You haven't avoided the others, just me."
Y/n sighs, her heart thudding in her chest as she looks away from Sirius and finally admits in a small voice, "I'm in love with you."
The world stops, for the both of them.
Y/n can't breathe, why would she admit that!? Everything, everything, has been ruined. She ruined their friendship! Why would she do that!?
Sirius can't breathe, did she mean it!? Everything, everything, is going to change, for the better. She felt the same! But why did she avoid him if she loved him?
After what felt like hours of silence, Sirius responds, "I love you, too."
Sirius's heart pounds against his ribcage. Even though she said it first, it's still so hard to admit it.
Y/n's heart pounds against her ribcage. There is no way in hell that he actually feels the same.
"I – w-what?” she stutters, mouth dry.
“I love you too,” Sirius repeats, dropping her wrist. His hands come up to cup her jaw, holding her face in his hands as he smiles down at her. “I-I was thinking about how much I missed you, everything about you – not just your presence – and I guess that led me to realize that I would never feel this way about someone I thought of as my friend. Y/n/n, I realized that I’m in love with you.”
Y/n mirrors Sirius’s smile, relief flooding through her body as her cheeks flush with pink.
“I-I’m glad,” she whispers. “I was scared that you didn’t feel the same; that’s why I started avoiding you. I thought that if I was around you less my feelings would go away, which obviously didn’t work. But I was scared to say something in case I made things awkward between us.”
Sirius chuckles, pressing his forehead against hers, asking in a soft voice, “How could I not be in love with you? You, Y/n L/n, are the most kind, thoughtful, caring, smart, funny, beautiful woman in the whole world; I don’t know how I didn’t realize my feelings for you sooner. I love you.”
“I love you too, Sirius,” Y/n murmurs back. She closes her eyes, relishing in the feeling of Sirius being this close to her.
A comfortable silence fell over the two as they soak in each other’s presence, two hearts beating as one.
Two minutes. It has been two minutes since Sirius has admitted his feelings for Y/n, and it’s making him feel like he’s on top of the world.
Taglist: @littleshadow17 (who asked for a part 2 a month ago. I hope it was up to your standards lol). And @rosieandthethorns (who didn't asked to be tagged but I figured I should let you know so you can stop foaming at the mouth and writhing on the floor lmao)
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angelsdean · 16 days
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*record scratch* freeze frame. Reality Check. "You're the one who came and got me at school. You're the one who dragged me back into this." let's re-evaluate that statement, Sam, because that is not, in fact, what happened.
The context in which Sam makes this statement is that he's arguing Dean used to care about the revenge quest and killing the demon because Dean is the one that came and got Sam and thus "dragged him back" into the quest to kill the demon. But, that is not why Dean went to get Sam at school, it was to find John, who was missing and possibly dead. Dean didn't even Know about the demon at this point (they don't find out that "the thing that killed mom" is a demon til 1x11) or that John was closing in on it. Dean goes to Stanford to ask Sam to help him look for John, that's it. Then, at the end of 1x01 Dean brings Sam back to school in time for his interview as promised, and drives away. He only turns around when, in the deleted scene, he notices his watch has stopped, cluing him in that something is wrong. And he gets there in time to save Sam from the burning building.
Sam then makes the choice to leave with Dean because now that he's lost someone, he is personally invested in finding John because John knows more about the thing that killed Mary (and now Jess) than anyone, and Sam is the one who is now consumed by the need for revenge and the first step in getting that revenge is finding John, something he had no vested interest in doing before, but is now heavily invested in, even more than Dean is, as we see throughout the first half of s1 where Sam is often the one calling around looking for John and is more interested in searching for John than taking on random cases.
Anyways, it's just so interesting to track this revisionism of events and how both Sam and Dean come to accept this as the truth when it's literally not what we saw happen throughout the season. And we see Dean start to absorb this belief after Meg plants the seed in their heads in 1x16, trying to drive a wedge between them, by falsely saying Dean "drags Sam around like luggage" when literally the whole reason Sam and Meg meet is because Sam wanted to part ways in 1x11 and Dean let him go. Sam then comes back and decides to stay all on his own, even after Dean offers to drop Sam off somewhere.
Dean expresses in 1x16, that yes, he wants Sam around, he wants his family together again, but at the end of that very episode Dean is also the one who says they need to split up from John, even though it's the last thing he wants. Dean consistently is willing to let people go, even if it's not what he personally wants. And especially Sam. Over and over throughout the season he expressed how he wants Sam to have a normal life, is willing to let Sam go, or stay in some random town and drop the search for John. So even IF Dean did secretly want Sam to stick around when he went to get Sam at Stanford, he never expected it. Never enforced it.
That Sam comes to think Dean "dragged him back" into hunting is a purely revisionism and a bit of projection, I think, because Sam might not want to face the truth of the matter which is that he consistently chose to stick with hunting, and actually enjoys it more than he'd like to admit. And, as both he and John express, this quest to kill Yellow Eyes becomes "their" obsession. Not Dean's. Dean is the one who says he'd rather they never find the demon if it means losing his family. Dean is the one that says getting revenge isn't worth dying for. And then, Sam takes this to heart, when at the end of 1x22 he refuses to kill John Possessed by Azazel at Dean's pleading, AND when he tells John that killing this demon does not come "before everything" while eyeing Dean bleeding out in the backseat.
Dean was never the one invested in revenge. He did not come get Sam from Stanford to aid in the family revenge quest, he came for help in finding their missing father, something Dean cared abt simply because that's family, and Dean cares deeply, despite everything John put them through. Dean is the one that cares, the heart of the narrative, etc etc. He comes to Sam because he is alone in the world, because their only other blood relative is missing, because it's a very human thing, to reach out, to want family around. And still, he was always going to let Sam go after the 1x01. He didn't like it. It's not what Dean wanted. But he was going to let him go back to his life. Sam chose to follow Dean and continue searching for John.
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