#I feel I don't know enough about the topic

[notapradagurl7]

In The Backseat.

Black Fem!Actress! Reader x Kelvin Harrison Jr.

Summary: You were featured in a pioneering black romance movie alongside Aaron and Kelvin, completed the promotional course and interviews, but felt exhausted, all while dating Kelvin. You both finally reached the limo and chose to ease the pressure on him once it halted and arrived at your house.

WC: 4146k.

A/N: Here is a better khjr. fic for ya’ll hope you enjoy my loves, ☺️ don't forget to leave comments, likes and reblogs are welcome to support, drop a request if you like, they're always open!🫡 let me know if you want a part 2!

Warnings: praise, car sex, fingers in mouth, exhibitionist kink, fingering(fem receiving), oral(m), dirty talk, slight voyeurism, consensual for both parties, kissing, unprotected sex, drunk sex, cussing, let me know if I missed any.

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—————

Sitting between Aaron and Kelvin in the seats, in front of the camera and your brown eyes locked on the interviewer and asked you, and your castmates Aaron and Kelvin about the movie, you fake smiled and nodded. It’s been hours and hours, of interviews, talk shows, photoshoots, talking with your manager Leona and bodyguard Felix to make sure you're good.

But this was exhausting mentally and physically, you knew that this part came with the entertainment industry but the fame part was difficult, deranged and delusional, stalker fans, toxic gossip blogs ready to get something on you. The worst part was no privacy when it came to certain things.

“Y/N, how does it feel to be in an award-nominated and award-winning film with Kelvin, and Aaron?” The interviewer asked, using a bright tone.

“It feels great to be in this film beside these two, showing the right ways to tackle certain topics that are spoken about enough, you feel that my character Nia is conflicted and chooses the one who’s been yearning for her all along, it’s reminded us that she’s human,” You spoke with confidence, smiling again. Your cheeks ached in pain.

You’ve been acting for seven years, your film credits have expanded significantly, and you’ve won Emmys and an Oscar by the age of 31. Hobnobbing with your favorite stars like Angela Bassett, who inspired your dream.

You were picky when it came to roles in Hollywood, the reboots, remakes, sequels and constant shady, predatory directors, asshole producers, and stuck and entitled managers.

But you finally your manager Leona, who was the best in the business. You preferred working with a black women, you felt safe, seen, and protected properly by her. You had to do so much on your own but it took a toll on you.

You've made it, you were proud of yourself. You had a black-owned production, management team.

You starred in a black romance movie titled More To Love, which revolves around two close friends employed at a black-owned law firm. In the story, they handle legal cases, and things take a turn when your ex, portrayed by Aaron, arrives to propose. Your character named Nia never forgot how much her ex hurt you from heartbreak and betrayal, so your character pretend to be with your colleague Kelvin.

It was very similar to your story when you began dating in high school, Aaron played the role so well and it made you not speak to him, you explained to him that the story was personal to you. Aaron understood completely, shared the same story as you and he apologized.

As the interviewer continued to throw questions your way and Kelvin’s, you could feel the weight of the promotional duties pressing down on you. Your cheeks ached from the forced smiles, and you stole a glance at Kelvin, who flashed you a reassuring grin. It was a momentary distraction from the barrage of queries.

You wore a black knee-length dress that exposed your back paired with black heels, French tip nails with gold rings, and your natural curls pulled up in a cute bun. Your plump lips are adorned with lip gloss, and Your dark brown skin beautifully shines.

Kelvin and Aaron were matching with you, wearing the classic black suits, with white tee shirts, and black pants without ties, thin gold chains draped around their necks while diamond stud earrings hung in their ears.

They were so handsome, and the size difference was cute, Aaron was much taller in person though. Was Aaron a Greek god in another life? You wouldn't be surprised.

“Y/N, do you think the film accurately portrays modern black relationships?” the interviewer chimed in, his voice smooth and inviting.

“Absolutely, the film highlights the complexities and intricacies that many couples face today. Not just about love, but heartbreak and understanding,” you replied, your voice steady and calm.

As the interview wrapped up, you felt a rush of relief. You stepped out of the studio and outside to the lane that led to the red carpet, the rush of the day almost dissipating.

“Great work, we’re getting to the finish line,” Aaron spoke up, nodding.

“Yeah, we did,” You sighed until the both of them noticed that you looked exhausted. Burn out approaching.

“You okay baby?” Kelvin asked concerned, his brows raising.

You shake your head, “No, sweetie. I’m tired as hell,”

Kelvin rubbed your back in the soothing circle, the feel of his hand and the cold chill from the gold metal of his ring sent a shiver down your spine.

“It’s going to be alright, once we’re done with this red carpet, we’ll be heading home after that okay?” Kelvin reassured you softly, kissing your cheek.

You nodded, biting down on your lip as you gazed upon the man, he smelled good with the scent of cinnamon and citrus. Your hand rested on the back of his neck, your thumb swiped over. He groaned lowly.

Regrettably, the gossip and dating scene have been lacking recently; you vowed to avoid dating celebrities because of all the negative press surrounding them, as they tend to be deceitful and dishonest.

Until your best friend, Nia introduced you to Kelvin Harrison Jr. and Aaron Pierre, others would assume that you were dating Aaron but you explained repeatedly that you were just friends, nothing more.

Kelvin had his eyes on the moment he met you, and he wasn't like the rest, he was funny, kind, patient and charismatic.

The better you got to know him, the closer you became, transforming the typical friends-to-lovers storyline from the film you acted in into something genuine in real life—who would have thought?

The three of you stepped toward the red carpet laid out for you, a fence in front of you to block paparazzi from stepping too close, Kelvin and Aaron stayed between you, he held your hand.

Your anxiety fell silent amidst of the overlapping chatter of the paparazzi, bright flickering lights from every corner and Kelvin’s thumb swiped over your palm. Exhaling through your fake smile, almost there to the finish line like Aaron.

Relax, you said in the depths of your mind. It almost suffocating from amount of things happening all at once. Your cheeks on your face ached again, your mom did tell you that if you kept that face, it would freeze up like that.

Was she just messing with you? Yeah, she definitely was. You resumed walking close with Kelvin along the velvet red carpet as you peeped at the waiting limo at the end of the carpet rope. So close.

Until you were stopped by someone in the paparazzi, fuck, you were so close. They annoyed the hell of you A LOT. The fact they get paid a huge amount of money for this should be a crime.

“Show us some love!” a photographer shouted out with enthusiasm.

Next thing you know, Aaron strode past the two of you before winking at you while Kelvin’s hand snaked from your back to around your waist, wrapped around you like a warm blanket on a snow day.

“I’ve got you, don't worry,” Kelvin said in a reassuring tone, smiling at you as you mirrored the warm action.

The warmth of Kelvin’s body against yours caused your heart to flutter, his touch made you feel safe, protected from everything and everyone out there, especially in Hollywood, another destructive, soul-sucking world that you heard of, seen in documentaries, scary Lifetime movies, tv shows, the news.

A series of crazy shit flying around and you refused to catch it, you couldn't. You've worked too diligently and consistently to get where you are today.

That is definitely what everyone feels, you couldn't be like them.

Kelvin’s head turned towards you, leaning in close before you did, his plump lips brushed against yours, pressing his onto yours gently. You kissed him back passionately after pulling away from each other.

“We’ve got a new star couple!” someone shouted in glee, you couldn't help but mentally roll your eyes. Here we go.

That was the big announcement from the two of you and to the world.

You were dating Kelvin secretly until the two of you had the conversation of not wanting to be a secret anymore, people had a lot to say, and celebrity relationships won’t last long, in and out like a drive-thru. Cheating, sex scandals, some weird cult shit, or some connection to Illuminati.

Aaron, your manager Leona, and your bodyguard Felix were the only people who knew.

But you didn't let what other people say or think, or do kill your joy, Kelvin and you were happy with each other, that is what mattered most.

“I'll see you lovebirds later,” Aaron spoke up, waving goodbye to you.

You waved back in response, smiling at Aaron with a head tilt. He was so sweet, you focused on the cameras flashing before winking at the camera.

At this point, when is it going to be over? It had to be.

You walked through the strobing lights of the cameras, moving from side to side in those same painful heels. With a forced smile for the photographers and your boyfriend by your side, you were nearing the limousine.

“Time to leave, beautiful,” he whispered in your ear, gently guiding you toward the sleek, black limo.

“Thank God,” you whispered back, turning to face him, walking toward the door as Kelvin opened the door.

You ducked your head and settled into the plush suede backseat of the limo with its tinted deep windows, which was spacious and the color of ink black for the seats and the car floor below your heels were soft as a cloud, the color of macaroon cream.

Kelvin ducked his head and settled onto the suede backseat beside you, grinning at you like he was ready to eat you out in the backseat as he shut the door behind himself. “Glad that’s over and done with, now I can focus on you,” he said, his tone low and seductive.

You chuckled lightly, biting down your lips, clenching your legs before opening the door to the refrigerator and grabbing a champmage botte, “I need a drink first before I deal with your nasty ass,” you shot back using a sinful smirk.

The limo had buttons atop your heads, for the white florescent lights including a small refrigerator for drinks, water bottles, champagne, and wine.

He grabbed the glasses and passed one to you, before kissing your lips again, the taste of strawberry lips gloss adorned his lips, your thumb carefully rubbed it off. He groaned at your touch, damn he was in love with you.

You were 100% sure that Kelvin was so smitten with you, he indeed was.

“My nasty ass?” Kelvin asked in a tone as if he was shocked, his hand resting on the armrest.

“Yeah, you heard me right, Mr. Harrison. All those kisses on the red carpet, I can't help but feel like you're trying to stake your claim,” You laughed, pouring the champagne into the glasses.

Kelvin raised an eyebrow, leaning closer, his voice dropping an octave. “And what if I am? You’re mine, Y/N. And I'm yours, You know that, right?”

You felt heat rise to your cheeks as you took a sip of the bubbly drink. “I do know that, but let’s not forget that the limo driver is watching us, he’s probably a pervert,” you whispered back.

Until you suddenly realize that the limo driver was a woman, her brown skin and brown eyes go with her makeup, her lush lips in red lipstick, giving you a reassuring smile through the rearview mirrors. The limo peeled away from the event, gliding smoothly onto the road where your destination was.

“Oh, you didn't? I'm so glad that she’s a woman but you never know these days,” You mentioned with a shrug.

“Agreed, I'm not sure about how long this drive so how about we make the most of it? Hm?” Kelvin asked with a soft hum, shrugging.

The two of you finished your drinks, feeling the buzz of the drink flow through you, “Yeah, how about we try an exhibitionist kink that I want to do?” You suggested to him.

The sleek limo began to take a gentle turn to the right, going through the bright towering lights and passing through other cars, paying them no mind, as if you two were the only ones in the world.

Kelvin nodded, it was something that he never thought he’d do but with you, he wanted to try it. Just thought of it turned him on. An idea popped up in his head.

“Just imagine…there’s the driver named uh…Kendra watching us and the cameras few inches away from us, and here we are,” Kelvin replied in a seductive time.

You grinned at the man before kissing down his neck, “You’re bad, huh?” you said to him.

“Only for you, baby, but what do you want to do first?” Kelvin asked with that sinful grin, kissing your lips again.

His fingers trailing over your arm and shivered from his touch, with your hand snaked below his pants before stopping, “Can I suck your dick while the driver watches? Just a taste Kel?” you whispered softly in his ear.

His breath hitched from your voice, and he nodded at you. “Y/N..yes you can, don't make me beg,” he sighed blissfully with a smirk. He was in for a treat from you, he didn't even know it yet.

And with his consent, you unzipped his zipped and gently slid down his boxers and pants a little bit, kissing his tip before wrapping your mouth around his thick, long brown dick, his arms rested on the armrest of the limo.

His tongue gliding over his lips, he groaned loudly once you bopped your head onto his dick, your tongue tracing shapes on the veins, he knew you looked so gorgeous doing this, “Fuck…so beautiful, suck it harder..” Kelvin panted heavily, his head fell back onto the soft cushion.

“Mmm..so good,” you mumbled lowly, your hand stroking him with your fingers rolling between his balls, he grunted once he locked eyes with the female limo driver. The soft slurping and squelching sounds filled the car, the warmth of your mouth spurred him one.

“That mouth of yours..is perfect, I couldn't resist you, seeing you walk down that carpet…fuck!” Kelvin shouted out, pushing his hip upwards.

Your palm stroked Kelvin's dick with your cheeks hollowing around him as spit dripped from the corner of her lips, spit stuck to your hand and tricked down to his balls, "Fuck..Y/N.." he groaned deeply, his hands gripping the armrest tightly, You moaned around him, sending vibrations through his body.

“It’s turning me on when you suck this dick, the driver is watching us…that feels so fucking good,” Kel moaned again, hearing your muffled moans in response, filling that exhibitionist side of you once the driver’s eyes flickered back to Kelvin.

You bopped your head faster and your cheeks hollowed harder, wetting his dick and seats up, covered with drops of precum and spit. Staining his pants, your dress. Good thing both of you wore black, “Just like that! Shit!”

His balls tightened in response around your fingers, Kelvin’s mouth parted as you twisted your hand around his dick, squeezing it lightly. “Shit!….Shit!…Y/N, please!” he begged for you, he gasped as if he lost oxygen in his lungs.

Finally, he reached it, Kelvin's hot cum spilling into your mouth, you quickly swallowed every drop while you lifted you head,

“It was good wasn't it?” You bragged with confidence, Smiling and using a warm towel from the edge to clean your mouth, you tossed it into the trash. You put his dick back into his boxers, he zipped them up, and pulled up his pants.

Before you could reply, his hand settled on the back of your neck, drawing you in. He kissed you passionately and intensely, and as you returned the kiss, you let out a moan. When you finally pulled away, a strand of saliva connected your lips and his.

“That was amazing, baby, my turn,” Kelvin sang playfully, giving you an tender kiss as you moaned, your pussy from his touch.

More friction, desperately.

You leaned in, “Touch me, please,” you whimpered softly, giving him consent to touch you.

His fingers grazed the edge of your dress as Kelvin planted kisses on your collarbone, marking your deep brown skin with hickeys. “K-Kelvin…” you moaned again, His fingers slipped beneath your panties, sensing your wetness through the fabric, humming softly in response against your shoulder.

“I couldn't leave my girl like this, so wet just from sucking my shit off?” Kelvin asked in a deep tone, his voice deepening. His finger rubbing your clit. “Y-yeah, I-it was big, couldn't fit it all..” you groaned before moving your hips. No teasing was a rule of yours, but Kelvin’s hand slid through your panties, pinching your clit.

He pushed your panties to the side, and rolled them down and off your ankles. You parted your legs wide for him, while gazing into his eyes, “You’re so fucking nasty, girl,” he groaned softly, his legs parted a bit.

His fingers parted your folds and slipped inside with ease, making you moan wildly, causing Kendra to look back at him but she paid attention to the road still. “Shhh, I got you, my girl’s been stressed out?” he said, his lips nibbling on your bottom lip, the taste of wine and lip gloss.

“Kel..fuck!” you cried out, rolling your hips to that torturous pace, your arms wrapped around his shoulders tight, he must've told the driver to take the long way, your essence poured onto the seats, as he gently pulled the strings of your dress, your breasts poked out. He licked his lips.

“Beautiful titties,” he mumbled, his hands cupping your breasts softly, pinching your nipples roughly before sucking the right softly. “Mhhm..” you hummed but moaned, you’d almost forgotten that you were still in the limo, you definitely needed this. Your hand rested on the back of his nape, feeling that comforting warmth.

In need of his touch as if it was religious, you hoped to your ancestors and God above that Kendra kept driving, eventually you would get home later, you need more.

His fingers thrust in and out of you, he watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, he pressed your back to his clothed chest. “I love it when you make a fucking mess on my fingers, I can't wait to feel it on my dick,” He teased, curling up his fingers. He was so nasty, so passionate. His dick hardens in his pants.

“I..i..I love this shit with you, so much, get deeper for me papa,” You babbled softly, panting while moving your hips a bit. Your hands gripped the armrest, Kelvin was still behind you, keeping you close so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

“Oh shit! Shit! Kelvin!” you moaned suddenly once his fingers slid in deeper, your wet walls clenched tightly around his digits. Your wetness covered him completely and stained his pants but didn’t care.

The limo resumed driving straight again, while the little bumps on the roads made every sensation. Your pussy sucked his fingers right back in and clenched tight, “That’s right, you feel it? That pussy sucked me back in..fuck,” Kelvin groaned raspily, biting down his lip, You gasped, feeling the rhythm of his fingers and the warmth of his body pressed against yours.

The thrill of being in a moving vehicle, with the driver just a few feet away, was pulling you close to the edge. You were so close, but you weren't ready to go home; he pressed his bulge against you and moved his hips, “Don't see what you do to me?” Kelvin groaned as he felt your ass against him, giving your backside a playful smack that made you moan, clearly turned on by you.

His thumb flattened on your clit and circled, your mind blurred from pleasure and saw thousands of stars behind your closed eyelids, you were moaning loudly as his fingers went faster. “That pussy knows me so well,” Kelvin teased with a grin.

“You’re so good to me, just a little more baby,” You begged, your voice softened a bit, his fingers hit that sweet spot. Moving in a ‘come here’ motion over and over. “I got you,”

You nodded, feeling the tension build within you, the pressure mounting as he resumed to thrust his fingers, in and out, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot. “You drive me crazy, I'm gone fuck you so good when we get in that house,”

After his fingers turned sporadic and curled again, you felt yourself clench around his fingers. Waves crashing over you as you cried out his name, “Kelvin!”

He slowed his movements, letting you ride out the waves of your orgasm, feeling you pulse around him. The rush of it left you breathless, and you leaned back against his chest, panting as the aftershocks coursed through you.

“Damn, you’re beautiful when you cum,” he murmured, planting soft kisses along your shoulder and lips, sending little sparks of electricity through your body.

You turned to face him, still catching your breath. “You’re not too bad yourself,” you teased, a playful smile creeping onto your lips.

Kelvin chuckled, the sound low and rich, filling the quiet space of the limo. “I love you,” he said, he pulled out his fingers, watching you tie up the strings in the back of your dress.

“I love you too,” you agreed, stealing a quick kiss from him, feeling the warmth radiating between you.

As the car slowed down, you could see the lights of your house glowing in the distance. “Looks like we're almost home,” you said, a hint of reluctance in your voice.

“That was fun, I liked that,” Kelvin replied, grinning like it was his birthday and he enjoyed his present. His eyes are still on you.

You nodded, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, “Yeah, I liked it too,” you said, that shy side coming out.

The limo finally came to a stop, and the driver turned to look at you both. “We’ve arrived,” she announced with a knowing smile, as if she understood the connection that had just blossomed between you two.

“Thanks, Kendra,” you said, feeling a bit shy as you realized the driver had witnessed more than just a simple kiss.

Kelvin opened the door, helping you out as you stepped onto the pavement. The cool night air hit your skin, and you shivered slightly, but Kelvin wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close again. He closed the door and let Kendra that he pay her immediately, apologizing for the mess on the seats.

“Let’s get inside,” he said, his tone both playful and protective.

Once inside, you closed the door behind yourself. Kelvin brought you into the bedroom, removing his suit as you peeled off your dress. He quickly kissed you, your lips meeting. Your legs spread, he buried his dick inside you. His hands on your hips.

“My beautiful girl,” he groaned softly.

And with that, he made love to you all night long, distrubing your neighbors who obviously sent a nose complaint but you knew Kelvin would talk care of it. Your moans echoed through the walls, he kissed your shoulder and said, “Fuck ‘em, you can scream as loud as you want to,”

————

[lightseoul]

a/n. pleasantly surprised at how quickly i wrote this bit, it practically wrote itself. glad the first part was interesting for a lot of you—i love writing about psych/therapy stuff (despite my complex relationship with 'em), and ofc bkg <3 i honestly don't know where i'm going with this, but it's been fun so far. (0.8k)

navigation. part 1, (you are here), part 3

thankfully—and to the relief of whatever dignity he had left—that interaction was short-lived.

well, it’s mostly because after you blinked at him for what felt like a torturous eternity and said a shaky hello back, he gave you a curt nod as if he wasn’t the one who just initiated the exchange and bolted it out of there without a single glance back.

that bit haunted him for the next few days, reappearing in his consciousness whenever the topic of therapy or anything remotely close to it was broached. he even snapped at kirishima when the redhead asked how his latest session went during one of their evening patrols together. it was a kneejerk reaction, an entirely out-of-proportion, aggressive response that shocked even him, which says a lot.

he should go ahead and text the guy an apology.

eventually, though, that unfortunate powwow slowly faded into the background of his exceptionally busy mind as the days went on. things got so hectic in the agency that he had to postpone his appointment for the week, which—quite frankly—is an upside to this chaos, because he sure wasn’t pumped about discussing his love life, or the lack thereof, with the jarringly knowing middle-aged lady. being able to definitively avoid you and buy you more time to forget about his stupid social blunder is merely the cherry on top.

okay, maybe the incident didn’t actually slip his mind after all.

“…bakugou-san? are you still with me?”

dazed, bakugou squeezes his eyes shut before fluttering them open, and what greets him is the very same lady against the backdrop of her increasingly familiar office, only this time she’s looking more concerned than perceptive.

right. he’s supposed to be in the middle of a session right now.

“yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of irrelevant thoughts and focus on the matters at hand. therapy is expensive, after all. “i’m here.”

that doesn’t seem to placate the woman who instead prods, much to his chagrin. “you seem out of it today. is there something in your mind that you want us to talk about?”

for a second, he debates caving and just telling her the dumb shit that happened two weeks ago, but then backtracks when it dawns on him how ridiculous everything is. what is he, a prepubescent boy? he died and survived a major war, for fuck’s sake. why is he so hung up on seeming awkward for once in his life?

even hearing it in his head is embarrassing enough.

that settles it, then. his lips are and will remain sealed.

but then his gaze refocuses on his therapist, and the sheer ‘unconditional positive regard’ or whatever the crap is called that she’s radiating becomes so palpable that it just spills out of him.

“i fucked up.”

that makes the lady frown—which, if he thinks about it, is understandable, because he rarely opens up about his failures, let alone this blatantly—although she manages to quickly school her expression into a more neutral one. “can i ask you to expound on it?”

at that, bakugou sighs, because it’s either he just tells the laughable truth or actually cite one of his actual mistakes—which he’s not feeling right now, by the way. or he can expertly maneuver the conversation to another topic, but something tells him there’s no getting out of the current subject. maybe today, there is, but it’ll surely loom over their next sessions indefinitely until either of them revisits it.

he should know. it’s happened to him too many times, he’s lost count.

with this realization, he can only sigh again.

“it’s stupid,” he preempts.

“i’d like to hear it regardless,” comes her classic, supportive response.

and so he does it. talk, that is. it starts off a bit rough—he didn’t know how to even begin without flushing like an idiot, but he managed to get the brief anecdote going. he still ended up blushing anyway—the warmth in his cheeks was undeniable—and if she noticed, she gratefully didn’t point it out. by the time he’s finished with the trivial tale, he’s mildly out of breath, having said everything in one continuous burst.

“i told you,” he spits when she doesn’t say anything for a beat. “it’s stupid.”

“i’d normally ask you to reconsider the adjectives you use for yourself and your experiences, but i think you’ve heard enough of that.”

he snorts. damn straight.

the woman then shoots him a smile, and he has to tamp down the reflex to bristle at an impending attempt to placate him. fortunately, it doesn’t come.

what does, instead, is a question.

one that catches him completely off guard.

“did you find her attractive?”

the fuck, is his first, immediate thought.

but then his normally trusty and acute brain seemingly comes to life and promptly supplies a second one that leaves him frozen and utterly dumbfounded.

yes.

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra | @kalulakunundrum @cheezemanz @gold24fish @lunaryasha

[bucksaiga]

What if Buck and Tommy stayed friends and some other guy was Buck's bisexual awakening?

Buck and Tommy have been friends long enough for Buck to know Tommy is gay so he's the first person Buck feels comfortable telling about this. He's not sure why it feels this way, but Tommy is easy to talk to and he feels like he has less to lose opening up to Tommy.

Tommy is very gentle with Buck about this topic. He helps him open up, come to terms with his sexuality and face this situation on his own terms.

Buck goes out on a date with this guy, and the date is fine, but Buck reveals to Tommy that he doesn't feel much of a spark, and he blames himself. He tells Tommy that he feels like a fraud for not liking this guy and thinks he should give him a second chance.

Tommy talks him down, tells him that not feeling that spark with someone doesn't make him a fraud, and it's okay to explore your sexuality and realize you don't like something. Buck doubles down on being bisexual and says he'd go on a date with another man if he met someone he was interested in.

Some time passes, Buck hasn't dated anyone else yet and asks Tommy where he meets people to date and asks him if he can take him out to meet other people, particularly men. He insists he's ready to try dating again and of course, Tommy is right there to be the supportive friend that Buck needs. Tommy takes Buck to a queer friendly bar and Buck meets and flirts with a really nice guy, but the guy wants Buck to leave with him, and Buck doesn't want to leave Tommy behind, so they agree to exchange numbers and talk tomorrow.

Tommy's confused. He tells Buck that he didn't have worry about him because he could take care of himself. "But you're my friend, and we came here together. So we should leave together."

"Evan." Tommy sighs. "I brought you here to meet someone. If you wanted to go home with him, you could."

"I didn't want to go home with him, Tommy. I wanted to stay here with you."

"But you're not obligated to me." Tommy laughs. "This isn't a date or anything."

And then a light bulb goes off in Buck's head. Tommy's been right by his side. He's been incredibly supportive. They can talk for hours. They spend a lot of time together (sometimes without Eddie), and when Buck looks at Tommy, he feels that spark.

"Would...you go on a date with me?"

Tommy's eyes go wide and Buck panics.

"Uh, h-hypothetically!" He nervously adds.

"Hypothetically?" Tommy shrugs. "I'd take you out of here, we'd go to a nice rooftop bar with a fire pit in Venice, and then I'd accompany you home, kiss you goodnight and promise to call you in the morning."

After the shock wears off, Buck would emphatically agree to turn this hypothetical situation into a reality.

But maybe, if he was lucky, Tommy would do more than kiss him goodnight.

[frownyalfred]

Nearly all my AO3 bookmarks are unhinged (positive) comments for my organization system, and I need you to know that, unironically, a non zero numbers of my bookmarks of your stuff is stuff like, “No Alfred chopping wood, 6.5/10”, “Hal jumpscare. Have learned something about myself today. 8.43/10”, or “Is a WIP. Mean :( 4/10”

The number-crunching process is…intricate, lol.

My bookmarks are also entirely private. I only bookmark writing I love, but I don’t wanna accidentally upset someone when they reasonably interpret things differently, you know? Especially w/authors like you who have written enough for some serious variety and might be worried about people reacting immaturely to new kinds of fic.

I enjoy everything you put out, both for the stuff I found you for (SuperBat for days) and things I honestly used to consider a squick of mine (You have rewritten my brain with your A/B/O AUs)!

I appreciate both your rating system and your care in making sure it's private to prevent misunderstandings. I think I'd be 90% more chill about ratings in bookmarks if they gave an explanation like you described -- though I don't speak for all authors and sometimes the rating itself, even with context, is a slap in the face.

I do think you bring up an important thought here. So much of our tone online is context-dependent, and authors and bookmarkers are sometimes operating in very different circles. Meaning can get lost easily, and feelings can be hurt easily without that being the intention. Keeping things private unless we're certain the author won't be hurt makes the most sense to me right now, until we come up with a better system.

An example of this came to me as I was writing this reply. A few months ago I had someone reblogging my posts on here and tagging them "pedantic." And while yes, I agree that most of my posts are probably a little pedantic, that still stung. I mean, pedantic? You think I'm pedantic? That's all you have to say about it? Why are you reblogging it then?

So I went to their blog, read their pinned post, and realized they had a complex tagging system set up for archiving. "Pedantic" was their own tag for posts that were either longer than a paragraph, or that got into greater detail about certain topics. Their explanation/tag summary made perfect sense after that, but from my POV back on my own blog? All I get is the "pedantic" which again, didn't feel great.

That's all to say -- reader and writer relationships are a push and pull, a constant evaluation of ourselves and others, and we should seek to be kind and perhaps overly cautious when possible. Too many things already get lost in translation here on the internet.

[neonaurore]

it's not my job to change your mind when you're wrong. I don't need to spoonfeed my existence to you

yeah idgaf you're still an asshole

no we don't lol

my issue is it doesn't matter if you're nice or angry. you're being a dick regardless. being angry would just be more upfront but no amount of politeness will change that you're acting like a jerk by trying to tell an intersex person explaining being intersex that they sound like notorious TERF jk rowling??? I don't think you're talking down to me. you're just a jerk. you started this conversation out the gate swinging like an asshat, but you thought using polite wording would change that you said something rude as hell. you are passive aggressive whether you realize it or not. but the passive aggression isn't the issue. the issue is that you're wrong, but you think you're not wrong because you're using "correct" tone and the scary intersex people aren't being nice enough. even though while how you say an argument can convey it better, it does not change the content of that argument or if it is true or not

read up on this

I brought up the fact that changing those terms out makes it seems so much more wrong, (even though they aren't equatable whatsoever) to show that putting ANYTHING in those blanks is agressive, including the term already there.

yes but the equivalency is wrong. the swap out is equating intersex with gender identity which it isn't. watch this

"Also the idea that you can make yourself a person of color is untrue. You can tan your body or have plastic surgery but that does not make you POC"

watch when I switch up what the topic is about, suddenly wow, the topic is about an entirely different thing?? like yeah. it would be wrong to say you can't become a woman, because you can. but you can't become intersex. that's a fact. and it's not "aggressive" to say a literally correct statement

Intersex should be a defended term. It's a small amount of people and the less of them that speak up the less chance they have at reducing the genuine war-crimes constantly commited against them.

wow thanks for explaining my own oppression to me, o noble perisex savior.

The more people that incorrectly claim the term, the less grounds the term has as a whole.

ok so what the fuck IS your stance. because you're the one who was mad at OP for saying you can't transition to intersex?? and now you're like "oh we gotta defend the term" that is exactly what OP was doing

Theres no other way to shift a perspective then a clean, precise, chisel. Try it on me if you STILL don't feel like i agree with you.

I don't care if you agree with me or not you're still a fucking asshole to intersex people talking about intersexism. you're no better than cis people who police trans people, than men who try to filter feminists, than white people who get upset about how POC discuss racism

you are a tar pit. if you want to fix that, then learn that people do not need to spoon feed themselves specifically to you to make themselves more palatable because that does not work for fighting for rights

and read that tone policing article for the love of fucking god. I'm not gonna respond to this conversation again until you know why tone policing is bad

In case anyone needs a reminder…

Being transgender does not make you intersex.

Going through HRT does not make you intersex. Surgery cannot make you intersex.

Intersex people are born with atypical variations of physical, biological sex characteristics. That is what makes someone intersex.

Perisex trans people (especially on Reddit) have been recently insisting that just being transgender makes you intersex, and therefore able to speak over intersex people on issues that specifically affect us, especially when it comes to dangerous and offensive terminology. This is not true.

Also the idea that you can somehow “make yourself intersex” is untrue. You can make your body more androgynous through things like hormone treatment and surgery, but that does not make you intersex.

Falsely claiming intersex identity based on these things isn’t *always* malicious (though it is often done to speak over us) but it is always harmful.

[cipheramnesia]

I would not expect a huge amount from a reality/found footage horror movie about a possessed pregnancy, called "Delivery: The Beast Within" to necessarily offer much, but I figured the concept was just interesting enough that it would at least be, at a bare minimum, interesting to watch. And well, I don't know what to say except this is why I watch random horror, because Delivery: The Beast Within is a really good fake documentary horror.

So the strengths of this style of movie usually revolve around actors delivering more improvised or natural performances, needing relatively few budget intensive effects, and generally using the appearance of lower quality filmmaking to their advantage for suspense or realism. However, the majority of these types of movies generally treat the capacity to use these techniques gives them complete freedom from the need for direction, cinematography, or consistent writing. Plus, of course, the perennial nagging question of "why are they still filming this?" The Paranormal Activity series is probably the best example of lazy found footage horror, where the actors replace naturalistic improvisation with simply being very rude and generally angry at one another, and long, static shots for the sake of a single minor detail pad out the runtime. Poorly made films of this type can feel like they drag on for hours waiting for anything to happen.

Delivery effectively managing to dodge all of the major issues, provide a solid and tense work of horror, along side a bit of subtext plus a genuinely disturbing ending makes the whole affair rather brilliant. I'm not sure what decision helped the most. Having realistic story beats helped a lot - no one in the movie suddenly turns their life over to an imaginary exorcist, everyone acknowledges the protag is going through it, the supernatural parts are just this side of questionable that there's no reason to jump ship. It plays heavily into terrible, family friendly reality TV tropes up front, and there's a good chemistry between the leads where they seem to genuinely care for each other, which makes the gradual decline more distressful. It's just a lot of little details like the way the video artifacting is isolated to the pregnant woman (and switches immediately to the baby after it is born). The husband's reaction to what seems like miscarriage (it felt very nuanced, as someone who gets pretty quiet with strong emotions), and the one major event that makes the couple sever their connection with the documentary crew for several months. It's all a series of clever details that develop into a relatively well thought out plot, good pacing, and respectable camerawork.

On top of all that solid technical foundation, Delivery is also prodding at the USAmerican concept of pregnancy - how it's idealized, how little the physical and mental wear on women is discussed, the stress on relationships, really most of the ways it can impact on people physically, mentally, and socially. This isn't new territory per se, but Delivery makes these topics feel more a piece of the film text, rather than something overtly pointed out to the audience. No one person is explicitly gaslighting or deliberately misleading the pregnant woman, but the social pressures on her both as an expectant mother and also as a woman in crisis surrounded by support for her pregnancy specifically is tangible. It's the kind of subtext you don't necessarily need to recognize to enjoy Delivery as a solid horror film, but it adds layers and emotional resonance to the story.

As a film, it's what you might call a high B; a solid 8/10 performance from something that looks like it's working with 1/10 resources. They tapped into something and everyone involved very clearly committed. There are of course multiple trigger warnings around babies, pregnancy, and animals. But the ending. That was something.

[sl33py-g4m3r]

a bit of thinking before bed~~ just yelling into the void, not about cookie clicker this time~~~

what would've happened if we'd either, started using nuclear energy for power straight away, or never started to deal with it at all?

Is there a safe way to do nuclear energy that doesn't cause environmental disasters if things go awry? or is it going to happen? if it's going to happen anyway if there's a disaster, is the power source even that safe to begin with?

what if we'd never started to use the nuclear energy for bombs and weapons of destruction?

I feel that we outright just shouldn't use nuclear energy for anything at all~~ it seems much too dangerous if things were to fail~~~

just like guns and tools of war, that scares me~~

why would we risk creating power out of something that can cause widespread devastation? why did we first start making it into bombs and weaponry?

is there any turning back? stopping the use of nuclear bombs and energy? or is there no getting off of this train?

can nuclear energy ever be safe? if so, how?

I feel we shouldn't use something like this for power production, or destruction.... there's too much risk to humanity if things were to fail or war breaks out where everyone is firing nuclear missiles at each other..... and who wants that?

[imjustaf444keriguess]

i hate tumblr and its stupid little hiding-reblogs-actual-length i nearly missed this. i am too tired for syscourse but like i have opinions so here they are-

first off, how do you know every endogenic experience is completely different from people with CDDs? many endogenic systems can relate to people with CDDs and vice versa.

second off, there's still going to be lots of diversity in endogenic systems and CDD systems experiences. some have less members, some have more. some see themselves as parts of a whole and some see themselves as very separated people. there's going to be CDD systems who relate more to general endogenic system experiences rather than people in their own community. there's going to be CDD systems who relate to endogenic systems in the topic of how they see their system spiritually (since CDD systems and endogenic systems can have spiritual beliefs about their systems!)

third off, what rhetoric are you referring to when you say anti recovery? why are those ideas anti recovery? do we have any specifics we can point to and explain why they're bad? is there any knowledge about endogenic and cdd systems we can learn from that rhetoric when we take into consideration WHY those ideas might be bad? how can we make sure that shared spaces foster healthy growth while still helping the majority feel welcomed?

also, fourth off, the "endos tell questioning systems they're not traumagenic bc their trauma wasn't bad enough" is a problem in both pro-endo and anti-endo spaces. the solution to this is acknowledging that you might not be right on your labels, and that trauma is tough and complicated and more impactful than you think. but also acknowledging that you aren't lesser or somehow super distinctly different for having trauma, and you can still be welcomed in pro-endo spaces as someone with trauma. even if it's "mild", that trauma is important to recognize and acknowledge if one is safe to (altho we shouldn't force traumagenic systems to recognize they're traumagenic if it's unsafe to do so. we don't want to force trauma memories onto someone who can't process them).

tldr:

bodies who have endogenic systems are not always super different than bodies who have CDD formed systems,

but there's also big differences at times between those two general groups because system experiences are very varied.

also i wanna know what "anti recovery" you're talking about,

and people can be wrong about their system, and we should accept them and not force traumagenic or endogenic labels onto people due to how we judge their trauma or potential lack thereof.

Shared spaces between endos and CDD systems can actually be really harmful but y'all aren't ready for that conversation

[shalom-iamcominghome]

As I've gotten deeper in conversion, I have increasingly imagined jewish life throughout time. And what I mean by that is...

So when I looked at the Western Wall before this (maybe a few years ago), I just saw a wall. It held no deeper meaning than that. I imagined nothing when I saw that.

But now when I look at the wall or even when I'm praying idly, I'm imagining myself in the temple when it stood there. It's bright outside - a summer day so bright, I think the temple will blind me. A soft wind surrounds me. I'm stood in the middle of a huge crowd of people, simply observing. Women pass by me in small crowds, laughing and talking. Some of these women are wrangling their small children who keep running away, laughing like it's a game. And men walk by smelling of spices. The air is light, the city around bustling with people living fulfilling, meaningful jewish life. The wall now symbolizes that jewish life, and even though it's not just about the temple when I imagine it, it means something to me.

I think that's the result of seeing myself in judaism, turning the "you" into a "we," and I feel about this what I must imagine a married couple feels.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

it's like I can't enjoy anything at all. I can't care about anything because it's always going to go bad. I'm always going to have to choose between having a relationship with God, or the things that I enjoy, and it's so frustrating.

[fracturedodr]

"I'm okay with that." He responded, finally pulling his shirt back on - once his skin started to prickle with an unpleasant chill, reminding him that he was, in fact, shirtless. "I noticed them being pretty careful, too. Not as... attentive, as I thouhgt they'd be for how long I was probably gone." If the start of it was when he'd woken up in Folkvangr, it would have been months. "Though I think I'd prefer if they didn't feel like they had to walk on eggshells around me... Not very easy to remember things when everyone acts like I'm gonna shatter if they look at me wrong." As nice as it was to know they cared enough about him to treat him with care, he kind of wished they'd act a bit more relaxed around him.

"Hogni and - oh! uhm." Bell took the change in topic happily. His opinions on the pair were probably a bit controversial, considering they had been enemies up until recently, but he appreciated that he was being trusted about this. "I trust Hogni a lot. He's always been nice, and helped me out a lot. I - I feel like the fact he valued Freya so much and came here anyway is... proof he can be trusted. He likes her, but... but he has limits, has... things that he knows are wrong, Freya or no Freya." Hogni could have taken Bell and his little escape plan right up to Freya to be brainwashed away, and curry favor while he was at it - and hadn't.

That said a lot.

"As for Hedin... I know he probably seems like he'd be the first to go back, but... if Hedin valued Freya above Hogni, he wouldn't have come here at all, he'd have just. Denounced Hogni outright, I think. And a plan to inject somebody here to take me back there would be too convoluted if it meant he couldn't rejoin Freya for a year, or even possibly leave at all if you decided to just never let him leave as punishment." Bell rambled, settling contently into his own thoughts.

Mostly staring in the direction of his knees as he did so, but calm, and relaxed.

"She'd probably just have Hedin talk to him outside of Hearthstone if anything. He's serious, and kinda stubborn, but I also think he feels too... honorable? To be underhanded. I don't think his pride would let him. Plus, if Hedin wanted to cause damage, he... really doesn't need his weapon. He might've only given it out of courtesy, if anything." Bell had plenty of experience with Hedin's magic, and knew very well that if the man wanted to cause damage, he wouldn't need his weapon to do so. "Oh - um. That's a yes, I think Hedin can be trusted. Even thought probably sounded kinda bad, huh."

"It's okay, we can take it slow. As we have been--just...without all the tension, maybe. Everyone's been trying to be careful for you, they were...worried."

She patted the back of his hand, a reassuring gesture.

"Oh! Before I forget, I also wanted to ask you--how much you trust Hogni and Hedin. Welf still has their equipment, and I think they'd be beneficial on Dungeon excursions, considering they're both Level 6." She knew he trusted Hogni, that much was obvious.

"I think I'd also like to see how they fight...? Accepting members from the second strongest Familia...I don't know much about them, or how they handle fighting...or teamwork..."

[miraculouslumination]

Sometimes I feel like there is a subsection of political activists (heavy quotations over that) that truly believe that being the most depressed and miserable person alive is the most prime and meaningful political praxis you can ever do

[welcometogrouchland]

May I ask about your Jason Todd idea? <3

Hm, okay so. How to lay this out sensitively since I know it might be a tad controversial...

Prefacing by saying I'm not an expert on the minutias of Jason characterization. I like him when he appears, I think the battle for the cowl/Morrison era and some parts of modern era for him are Weird and Bad, but I'm not Jason scholar (for that I'd say maybe check out @/tumblingxelian and their great video essays), I'm just trying to think of what might be an interesting step forward for him.

First, the canon facts

Jason got lobotomized and has panic disorder on steroids. By the end of Gotham War (specifically when Jason was. Flying the batplane into the asteroid. God I can't believe that's the plot) he was finding it in himself to power through said panics

In Joker: The Man Who Stopped Laughing #12, the joker gives Jason a "low dose" of joker venom, which has an ambiguous effect on Jason, allowing him to power through the fear (which joker explicitly states is still very much present, just not physically debilitating, like when Jason couldn't run over in either Catwoman #57 or #58, the one with the kid in the building) even though he'd been able to do that sans venom over in Gotham War, like I previously stated.

The effect of said joker venom seems to be lingering for now, minus the creepy grin side effect it gave Jason over in that man who stopped laughing issue, as seen in the latest batman issue (number is escaping me rn, #147??). He still has the stutter which is a shorthand for fear, he's drawn with fearful expressions by Jorge Jimenez, but he says that he's "working through it" thanks to the chemicals

This is both super interesting and kind of maddening as it doesn't completely remove the consequences of what happened in Gotham War, but is trying to sweep them under the rug and get back to business as usual. I, however, propose making said consequences front and center like a fashionable urn on a mantle piece:

Since it's never stated how exactly the joker venom works, and I think the current answer is "it works how the story needs it to" I've decided that because it's a low dose, it eventually wears off. And when it wears off, Jason's back to square one in terms of mental state. Ergo, if Jason doesn't want to live the rest of his life as quaking shivering husk of his former self...he's going to need more.

(read more for the meat of things)

So, Jason self medicates for a condition given to him by the father he has endlessly complicated feelings towards with a cure invented by a man who represents everything he hates in the world who once tried to take everything from him.

Which, insert poetic cinema gif here, I'm quite proud of myself for that one.

Anyway, there's a lot of directions you could take this. Personally I think it'd be interesting to explore Jason trying to get back into the drug trade like he did in UTRH (FULL TRANSPARENCY I HAVEN'T READ THE FULL COMIC, I KNOW BROADSTROKES BUT IM NOT GONNA TRY AND MAKE PARALLELS) as he tries to use the resources (production plants and other drug runners who can hook him up with samples of joker toxin/similar stuff you can probably find around Gotham) to manufacture his own cure that means never having to go back to the joker again. Maybe he ambushes a joker toxin chemical production plant to get his own supply, and then Jason uses this as his foothold back into that world.

This isn't necessarily me saying we should regress Jason alll the way back to UTRH, that was before his anti-hero era and I'm not willing to fully shoot him back into the past. I just think that's not how you tell good stories in a medium like comics. But it'd inherently be a little different just bc he's doing it for different, slightly more self motivated (depending on your take on villain Jason) reasons and the people around him would have a different reaction to it.

Anyway, all sorts of problems can arise! Depending on how you wanna characterize Jason (wayward son who longs to be back in the fold or black sheep who doesn't play by daddy's rules, etc) he can either a) try and hide this criminal enterprise from his giant family full of nosy detectives (good idea there jay) OR do it out in the open, trying to justify himself but still putting himself on the opposite side of the family again (not the law bc that boy hasn't been on the 'right' side of it since he died)

There's also the fact that Jason now needs to take something 24/7 in order to live his life. He essentially can't be without it, he's dependent on it, in fact he'd get sick without it despite any adverse effects it may have on him (which are guaranteed, I mean. No clinical trials)

I imagine it'd be easy to become addicted to it in some way.

And uh. This is the part where it works slightly better as a fanfic pitch than an actual comic pitch. Because as much as I think it'd be such an interesting beat for Jason's character considering his fraught history with addiction and drugs (looks away from that one urban legends story where he suggests terrorising addicts to get to the suppliers and bruce lectures him. The easiest way to make Mr "we don't sell drugs to children" sympathetic and you beefed it)

I also fully recognise that this is a sensitive topic that DC doesn't have the best track record with (although addicts aren't a monolith and feel a number of ways about addictions portrayals in comics) and that there's probably some pitfalls inherent in the premise, namely bc of Jason's background as an impoverished kid and his grey morality, and how those play into stereotypes of addicts. Addiction is already such a misunderstood and stigmatized condition that I imagine playing with it with an antihero might be enough to turn some people off. Addiction is not a moral failing and I'd hate to write it as a moral failing of Jason akin to his willingness to kill, etc.

But with all that said, I think that stereotypes are primarily harmful because of their shallowness. They inhibit understanding of groups labeled "other" by presenting them in simplistic ways that don't portray richness or complexity. And I think a truly good red hood comic could give both sympathy and complexity to Jason, even as an addict. If anything, Jason is a popular character (mostly) and there could be something nice about seeing a main character go through what you're going through, gritty details and all. YMMV (can we bring that back btw?) and it depends on execution. There's a lot of ways it could go wrong, but seeing as it just lives as a hypothetical rn, I think there's also a lot of ways it could go. I mean, not right, it's a downer story beat for Jason but it's mostly meant to be interesting and a vehicle for more stories as Jason navigates it, ya know?

Anyway, I have a lot of spiels littered in my notes app and discord DMs that elaborate on all this (how this could work as act 1 in a broader Jason story where his little operation goes to shit and he has to hit the road (jack) and maybe do some character development for better or worse. I'm a sucker and wanna say better- not squeaky clean better but. Yknow, finding himself to an extent. I recognise I'm a sap and a fool tho. Or how a new outlaws team could factor into either of those eras (since I do like Jason with an outlaws team. It gives him an excuse to exercise his compelling relationships and dynamics with other characters without having to constantly tip-toe around the elephant in the room whenever he's with the batfamily all the time. He just needs a good lineup) but that's all for another time

... though without elaborating on the vision in my head it kind of just sounds like my pitch is "Jason gets addicted to his hyper-anxiety medication" BUT I SWEAR ITS MORE THAN THAT.

It's like. If Jason has struggled as a character (and this is very subjective on my part so feel free to disagree) because he has compelling relationships with all of the batfamily, but also has compelling grey morality that makes it hard to capitalize on those relationships, without the conflict always coming to "Jason stop killing!" "Nuh uh!" OR just being ignored, and the main way writers have addressed this is via reboots instead of arcs...

Then giving Jason and the bats:

real, legitimate and fresh reason for jay to be mad at Bruce (taking their relationship of love with very little understanding to it's most dramatic conclusion)

give the family a real reason to want to bring him back into the fold (feel bad about the lobotomy and it would be pretty immoral to let Jason waste away slowly and painfully because of something Bruce did)

capitalize on all the ways Jason is sympathetic (bc the addiction is a natural lead into his backstory, which is one of his most sympathetic elements)

And the ways in which he's very out of step with the bats post-resurrection (I'd be mad asf too if i came back to life just for my dad to a) not avenge me and b) LOBOTOMIZE ME meanwhile the cunt ass clown giving me my meds is just lurking out there).

Idk it's not a sophisticated pitch as of this moment but I think a real chef (writer) could cook something w/ this

[silverselfshippingchaos]

so i saw this tweet and

I know what you are..

[ahopefulbromantic]

Wait why is side Y incompatible with Catholicism?

I think Wikipedia explains it well: