#and imo there's no such thing as a “bad kid” there's only kids who are let down by the adults in their life

[daenerysstormreborn]

I can’t speak in tons of detail about most of this because I’m white but I think a lot of the people who are critical about drawing Arya and Jon with darker skin are assuming that people read “plain” and assumed darker skin when technically a shade isn’t ascribed to the Starks specifically, House Tully is noted to have fair skin right before the passage anon references about Robb and Jon.

Based on this, the fact that fair was just used to refer to skin, it seems perfectly reasonable to assume that Jon isn’t as pale as Robb and then it’s not a stretch to assume that Arya isn’t either given that she’s stated to look like Jon. I’ve definitely seen depictions of the sisters together that make me go hmmm but I’ve also seen people spouting off about the Starks being white in a way that makes me go hmmm.

But anyway genetics is v interesting to me because I study (fish) evolution and the diversity of coloration in humans within family lines is pretty cool! My mother naturally has chocolate brown hair and brown eyes, and my father has black hair and blue eyes. I came out with auburn hair and amber eyes with central heterochromia that gives me a brown ring around the pupil, and my younger sister wound up with dark brown hair and hazel eyes. My mom’s sister is a ginger and so was my maternal grandmother before she went gray, but I’m the only one with auburn hair. Notably, I am far paler than my parents and sister in a way that sun exposure/protection can’t explain. My 5’3” mother and 6’2” father produced kids who ended up being 5’2” (me) and 5’7”. Some pics below the cut because it’s pretty cool imo.

My sister’s natural hair color on the left and mine on the right (ironically, my parents both have fairly straight hair and my sister and I have wavy hair though hers was curled and mine was straightened in this image).

My sister and mother were both dying their hair in next ones. (Second one has my face covered because it’s a bad pic lol)

And my eye, my dad’s eye, and my sister’s eye (my mother has such deep set eyes that I don’t have a good pic of the color)

So like. Genes for darker pigmentation do tend to be dominant so it’s more likely statistically that the Stark-Tully kids would have darker coloration but unlikely things happen all the time. And hair, skin, and eye color are not at all simple or binary like some other heritable traits are

In all fairness the text doesn’t actually say that the Tully-looking Stark kids have fairer skin than Jon and Arya and I kind of do side-eye artists who draw Jon and Arya looking like an entirely different race than their siblings. Arya’s chapters have a few lines that make me think she’s supposed to be rather pale but it’s kind of neither here nor there bc I like to see them all being visibly brown. Although I would imagine Arya might spend more time outside and just get more sun exposure. A lot of Arya fans really rally against this and will call it racism and admittedly I’ve seen art of her and Sansa where the contrast in the way they’re drawn makes me raise an eyebrow, but I don’t think most people have racist intentions. In AGOT, Jon is described as dark where Robb is fair. These fans will say that fair is supposed to refer to his hair and eyes, but in the US at least, when we say fair in relation to human coloration, we’re almost always talking about skin, and auburn isn’t strictly a fair hair color either! Idk, complex topic and I think the way some fans fight about it is silly

I agree! To a degree.

Nuance is alive and well!

I personally think that, no, there are no inherent racist or colorist intentions when artists depict the starklings as light skinned or dark skinned. I think it’s unintentional, not malicious. As Americans, racism is literally baked into the very infrastructure of our social system, and even the most educated, radical, and anti-racist of us all have prejudice—me included. It took generations to learn, it will take generations to unlearn.

Of course, this is fiction, and fiction is malleable and subjective beyond the artist’s intent.

Now, as far as colorism goes: I think it’s somewhat okay and kinda fair to assume, and depict, that Arya and Jon have a darker skin tone/hair/features than the children who dominantly take after the Tully side. It just depends on the intent behind the depiction. Is the depiction rooted in racism? Where, as Americans, (and I am speaking from a specifically American POV as colorism and racism and class and etc are literally bred into our social infrastructure) when it comes to indigenous women specifically (but holy fuck every black and brown woman for fuckin real) we judge them based on their body types and skin tone and their ability to adhere and assimilate into westernized/colonized beauty standards. The darker the skin, the more savage she is. The less traditionally feminine the less approachable and breedable she is. And I think that’s something that The Gegrgege might have been playing with when presenting the dichotomy of Arya and Sansa specifically.

I hate to give a cis white man credit, but the man do be writing nuanced women without objectively putting them in the zone of abjection and I fucks with it.

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Arya is described as taking primarily after her father while Sansa is put on this unofficial pedestal because she’s seen as more conventionally attractive (as far as westerosi standards go)

Now, I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about how attractive Sansa and Arya are (why is the “is Arya pretty?” Discourse constant?) THEY ARE CHILDREN WHO FUCKING CARES. I know you’re not saying anything about the objective hotness of children, but it’s hard to talk about how the starks look without IT BEING BROUGHT UP OH MY GOD

But okay like.

I’m gonna say something controversial.

Different skin tones and features occur in direct family members.

Dude I’m 1/2 Siksika. Everyone on my dad’s side of the family are dark-skinned, dark-haired, dark-eyed. Very traditionally native looking. My dad came out ginger with extremely fair skin. But body-type, facial structure, physique, that’s a native man. His sister, same parents, both dark-skinned and dark-haired, was also dark-skinned and dark-haired. But other than color, they look exactly alike.

I came out with red hair, fair skin, green eyes. My mom’s side is extremely Italian—also dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed. Well, as dark as Italians can get. No one EVER on my mom’s side had red hair—and oh my god they be breeding. They’re still white. How did I come out with all the recessive traits? How did my dad come out with all the recessive traits? How did my sister, who is half white, but shares my dad, come out of the womb platinum blonde, but looking exactly like our full-blooded Siksika auntie by blood? Why did her kids come out platinum blonde, too?

These things occur. They occur naturally, too. No one hopped a broom in my family.

And besides, the gegrgegegre likes to play with genetics. The man truly understands that genetics aren’t an exact science but they can be a general rule of thumb.

I guess over all, what I want to say—I have yapping disease and it’s fatal— is it depends on the tone that artists are depicting the starklings. Are they depicting Arya as dark skinned and boyish because that’s how her character is written, or because there is a baked-in prejudice that belies every American that the less a woman (or girl) meets arbitrary westernized beauty standards the more savage brown woman she is? She is abject in the eyes of modern, colonized, white society. While women like me, like Sansa, who present as a more socially acceptable savage, a pliant, subservient, easy to fetishize girl who will help pass on the mǎster race colonizer traits due to the white-adjacency of her ethnic beauty, are depicted in a brighter light.

I think it’s fine to depict Arya and Jon as objectively darker than the other stark children (though they are all visibly brown as far as I’m concerned)

But in what way are you doing it?

Are you demonizing Arya for being considered the western (or in this case, Southron) antithesis of colonial beauty standards? Is your depiction rooted in racism?

Or are you doing her justice by allowing her to not meet those arbitrary beauty and femininity standards because that’s who she is culturally, physically, emotionally, and canonically?

Nuance. Is alive and well.

Thank you for your input :3 I think these are important discussions to be having in fandom!

[erinwantstowrite]

“Feels like being a bad kid, a bad son, because Peter’s never been a good one.”

“You’re such a good kid, Peter, and I’m proud that you’re related to me.”

why don’t you just fucking stab me.

stabbing makes me a mess to clean, breaking your heart makes YOU a mess and it's much more fun 💖💖💖💖💖

[gabrielsantar]

it’s truly what warhammer is missing the most re: primarchs. it’s boring if they all like each other, and it’s boring if they all hate each other; there should be an extremely complicated system of primarch relationships in which at least two of them fucking hate each other but sometimes have to tolerate each other because they all have a bestie in common

[cocoabubbelle-newblog]

Rings of Power S2

Spoilers

Arondir: *stabbed*

Me: NOOOOOOOOOO 😭

Adar: *prettified by Nenya and has possibly his conscience restored, his thirst for vengeance cooled down, alludes to an older name, and has VIBES with Galadriel*

Me:…*remembers that Celeborn was supposedly killed off centuries/who-knows-how-long-ago*…wait. WAI-!!

Adar: *also stabbed*

Me: NOOOOOOOOO(dangit there goes my headcanon)OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO 😭😭

Arondir: *alive actually*

Me: …wait wut

[key0-m0ve-al0ng]

Me pondering: kids are capable of going through and understanding complex problems and their feelings should be taken seriously when it counts.

Me practically: who are all these annoying fucking kids in the milgram fandom and why are they posting the worst takes and most irrelevant bullshit I've ever seen ever???

I think these are valid to coexist.

[david-watts]

anyway now that I've actually watched the episode for myself and not just read other people's reactions to it yeah the politics in that were. not great

[passivetimber]

.

[tiredbogwitch]

"Jinx left so Vi wouldn't have to choose between them, she left so Vi could finally be happy"

Is anyone else bothered by the implication that a relatively NEW girlfriend would be capable of making someone just as if not MORE happy than healing their relationship with their sister, who they spent YEARS wanting to make up with?

Me personally, I can get over a bad breakup. But if either of my sisters DIED, or simply chose to actively walk out of my life forever, that would fucking break me. I would not, in fact, move on. And maybe it's different for you guys, but Vi consistently spent an entire season trying to find and make up with Jinx. I don't know what the hell happened in season 2, but her saying "the only thing that kept me going was the thought of getting back to you" about her 7-year prison sentence doesn't sound like "I'll be better off with this girl I've dated for a total of 2 weeks".

Why is there an immediate assumption that any romantic relationship holds just as much if not MORE weight than any platonic/familial one? I'm sorry but why is it even a contest? I'm fully convinced that in season 1, had Jinx not demanded Vi kill Caitlyn- aka take a life, ANY life- and instead asked for LITERALLY ANYTHING ELSE, she'd have done it. Remember what she said? She said they could leave the entire city behind, just the two of them, and never come back. She was ready to leave their home, leave Caitlyn, leave all of it, for Jinx. Because at the end of the day, all she wanted was her sister back. But suddenly season 2 rolls around and it's "Caitlyn makes her happier." When? Where? How? I don't see any scenes of Caitlyn making Vi happy. Oh but she did hit her though, after getting upset that Vi didn't want her to shoot at a kid.

I'm sick of romantic relationships being taken as "naturally" being the priority. Maybe if you're married with kids or something, you'll prioritize your partner over your friends, sure (but if you have kids they still take priority over your partner IMO). But a 2-week-long situationship? I've known people who get ghosted after longer than that. Fucking be real with me.

I'm simply not convinced that Caitlyn should matter this much to Vi so quickly. It shouldn't even be a competition. I genuinely cannot imagine Vi, who's SOLE MOTIVATION in season 1 was Jinx, and who's SOLE MOTIVATION in EVERY UNIVERSE and TIMELINE was her FAMILY, would ever "move on" and "be happier" with any romantic partner. Callous as it may sound, she can always get another girlfriend. There's no replacing her sister.

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

WE CAN DIP IF YOU’RE READY ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; your dreams of a peaceful summer are rudely shattered by the presence of your best friend’s older brother; the same brother who rejected you five years ago. the same brother you’re still hopelessly, uselessly in love with.

word count; 7.4k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, best friend’s brother!gojo (he’s the hottest man in the stratosphere imo), mild age gap (five years!), unrequited love, but with a hopeful ending kind of, bittersweet fluff, mostly summer shenanigans and pining, riko is satoru’s younger sister and i would give her the stars, sugu makes a guest appearance, (they’re both just there to bully gojo), he’s fairly mature in this i think, reader is very stubborn and very down bad, [name] is used exactly once

a/n; personally i would let him use me as workout gear (tagging @teddybeartoji @dollsuguru @hayakawalove @stellamancer @vagabond-umlaut !! tysm for the help and encouragement ily 🥺🥺)

one mellow summer morning, over a breakfast of pancake and toast, the puppy-love you’ve nurtured for the past three years finally reaches its conclusion.

you’re seventeen years old. in three months you’ll be eighteen, standing on your own two feet, headed in a new direction — the whole world within your reach.

but right now you’re still only seventeen, and lovesick, and sleeping on a mattress in your best friend’s room; listening to the sound of the nearby sea. you’re seventeen, and dreaming about things you can’t have. you’re seventeen, and foolishly wearing your heart on your sleeve. 

you’re seventeen, and hopelessly, uselessly in love with a certain satoru gojo.

it’s early. your veins are sleepy and your heart is heavy, and you wake up at the crack of dawn just to catch a glimpse of him before he leaves for work. he’s leaning against the kitchen island when you trot down the stairs, and the smell of syrupy pancakes hangs heavy in the air; his bare chest is exposed, pajama pants clinging to the curve of his hips, and he rejects you with an easygoing kindness you wish he wouldn’t grant you.

”you’re more like a younger sibling to me. you understand, right?”

(suddenly, without mercy; a finality to his voice.)

he ruffles your hair, and you’re still sleepy, and you wish you could grasp the strings of your heartbeat to stop it from fluttering like this. wish you could pull yourself out of whatever trance he put you in, all those years ago, when you stumbled over the threshold to your best friend’s house and crashed headfirst into his chest.

”you’re a good kid,” he says, and his smile teeters on the edge of something apologetic. mostly, it’s pitying. ”there are lots of people out there for you.”

he ruffles your hair, as affectionate as ever, the same as it’s always been. not a trace of any romantic intent. the weight of his palm on your head is usually a comfort, but like this?

it’s a specific kind of torture. 

(i know, you want to tell him, but your voice is raspy and your throat feels sort of dry. i know.

but i want you.)

“don’t get hung up on a schoolgirl crush, hm?”

when you finally raise your head, satoru is looking at you, looking through you. kindly, patiently, like a benevolent god; his blue eyes flecked with dots of white, fluffy clouds on a summer sky. tilting his head to the right, as if searching for confirmation, waiting for your response. you muster up the will to nod, smiling in a way that must seem pitiful.

but he just pinches your cheek, throws a backpack over his broad shoulders, and asks you to let his sister know he’ll be home later than usual today.

then he leaves. he leaves you alone with two plates of pancakes on the kitchen table, sugary and sweet, one for you and one for riko. he put whipped cream on top, and chocolate chips in the batter. it smells good. it smells like an apology.

and that’s how it ends. 

there’s no great climax, no real resolution. you bite down on your lip, and spend about an hour pitifully sniffling into a fluffy pillow, even though none of it comes as a surprise. it still hurts, though. your best friend comforts you, tells you that at least you have some kind of closure now — an absolute rejection to make your feelings go away. about time, she thinks, though she’s far too kind to say it outloud.

… except they don’t.

the moral of the story is: satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he’s known you since you were fourteen, since he was nineteen, and he could never see you as anything more than a naive little kid. you’re his sister’s best friend, and he loves you, but not in the way you love him. it’s not surprising, or shocking. it’s exactly how it should be.

satoru gojo doesn’t love you back. he never will.

(you really, really wish your stupid heartbeat cared.)

five years later, on a breezy summer evening, you step onto a bustling train platform with your luggage in tow — breathing in the scent of a familiar seaside.

above you, seagulls chatter and cry. you look up at them, and then back down; everything feels familiar, despite the time that’s passed since the last summer you visited. the same flowers, peach blossoms and hydrangeas and tulips in all kinds of shades, the same street vendors and aroma of freshly grilled fish. the same cute and quaint port town, quiet during winter and autumn, pleasantly noisy during the warmer seasons. right now, on the cusp of june, there are enough tourists around to make finding the right face in the crowd a difficult task.

luckily, she’s quick to find you. 

there she is. with her long, dark locks of hair, neatly braided, a yellow sundress and matching headband; sunflowers embroidered into the fabric. barreling towards you with a speed that would scare you a little if you weren’t so used to it, so used to her.

riko. your one and only best friend.

she’s nestled into your embrace before you can get any greetings out, and squeezing you so tightly that you have no choice but to let her beat you to it. she’s warm, like a bundle of sunshine. the same as always.

with a low whine of your name, she nuzzles into your chest. “i missed youuuu…”

a chuckle bubbles up in your throat. and even though it hasn’t been very long at all, even though you talk on the phone almost every day and saw each other just a month ago — you indulge her.

“i missed you too, riko…”

another whine, and then she’s pulling back. squishing your cheeks together and pouting petulantly. “you better have! don’t ever make me spend summer all alone again, okay?”

”you’re still mad about that?” you match her expression, sulking. “it’s not my fault i got sick.”

“too sick to see your best friend? too sick to continue our most important tradition?” she shakes her head, letting go of you. struggling not to smile. “awful. just awful!”

“drama queen.” her lips break out into a grin, and yours follow. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

“you are,” she agrees, quick to link her arm with yours. you follow her steps, leading you towards a familiar house, resting in the distance. you can see it from here, a roof burdened with morning glories, those expensive white walls. “no, but seriously. i’m really happy to see you.” her voice drips with joy, giddy and sweet. “i don’t think i’d survive two months alone with that old man.” 

(… ah. right.)

the girl on your right chatters on and on, clinging to you, gradually melting away your skittish nerves. she tells you about her morning, what she ate for breakfast, the new show she’s been binging — it’s just as familiar as the house that soon comes fully into view. big and expensive, but still cozy, overgrown with flora. you don’t think either of the siblings really bother to take care of it, but it’s a pretty kind of neglect. a cute veranda, a beautiful garden. the apple tree you used to climb.

from within an opened window, translucent curtains swaying with the breeze, the buzz of an old radio spills out. when you strain your ears, you think you hear humming — gentle and sweet.

riko grins, dragging you with her through the opened gate. the yellow paint on the fence is starting to peel, and someone from inside has started pushing the door open, and the butterflies in your stomach can do nothing but sputter and squirm.

it’s summer, and you're back. back in that cute, quaint port town.

(and so is he.)

“why, hello there! if it isn’t my cute little [name].”

time stills, for just a single moment.

he looks the same as you remember. a little taller, you think, but he was always tall enough to tower over you; broad shoulders and long legs, sharp blue eyes gazing down at you. he’s wearing black shades, but you can still feel the weight of his pupils, crumble under the knowledge that his attention is entirely on you. wearing a pair of sweatpants and a tight black shirt, showing off every dip and ridge of his chest.

a pleasantly cool breeze ruffles his white hair, short and trimmed, healthy locks to match his bright and sunny grin.

he looks happy to see you.

“don’t be weird,” comes riko’s voice, breaking you out of your little spell. all while she’s ushering you both towards the door, beyond the threshold, into the hallway. satoru clicks his tongue.

“so hostile today. shouldn't you be in a good mood?”

then he’s turning towards you, tilting his head just enough for his eyes to peek out. they’re crinkled at the edges, and his smile is fond. “how was your trip?”

more butterflies. his voice flows from his glossy lips, smooth and melted, pleasantly deep. you can only hang on to riko’s arm, mustering a small smile of your own. “good,” you chirp. a little stiff, but polite, like you’re greeting an old friend; it’s been so long since you last spoke to him. ”… i’m tired, though.”

your reply is met with a chuckle, a raspy tremor of his vocal cords. it sends a shiver down your spine. the weight on your arm disappears, as riko stumbles forward and kicks her sandals off, muttering something about gum getting stuck on the sole. you’re left standing right across from satoru, suddenly very aware of how much space he takes up all on his own — leaning against the wall, making himself comfortable. and chuckling, with that stupidly sexy voice.

”i bet,” he hums. ��take a nap if you need to, yeah?”

a moment of silence. riko curses in the background, and you shift from foot to foot, unable to properly look into his eyes. for a second, his smile drops — eyes obscured by the black glass of his frames, betraying no emotion. it only lasts a second.

then he’s moving forward.

one large stride towards you, as sudden as a lightning bolt, before he leans down to wrap his arms around you. squeezing your waist, with his biceps, not quite as tight as you remember his hugs being; you wonder if he’s holding back.

(his touch burns your skin, all the same.)

one of his palms finds solace on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. you can hear the smile in his voice when he speaks, terribly sincere.

“i missed you, kiddo.”

a quiet squeak tumbles from your lips, and you pray to every god you can think of that he doesn’t hear it. his chest is pressed right against you, firm, radiating body heat. his limbs wrap you up in it, a cocoon of warmth that makes it hard to breathe. you can smell his cologne from where your cheek meets his collarbone; sandalwood invading your senses.

“i m-missed you too,” is all you can croak out, voice breaking pitifully. at this rate you might actually faint.

just out of view, riko narrows her eyes. before you can plead for help, she’s tugging you away from the embrace, pushing her brother away, and you inhale as much of the fresh summer air as you can. 

“alright, that’s enough,” she huffs, pulling you closer. “c’mon! we should unpack your stuff right away!”

“want me to carry it?” satoru asks, already eyeing your luggage like a predator about to lunge at his prey. even if you say no, you know he’s not going to listen. 

so you let him. and within the next few minutes, you’re seated on riko’s bed, suitcase on the floor, a glass of lemonade in your hand. blinking sluggishly. 

“are you sure you’ll be alright?”

you raise your head. your best friend is looking at you with a questioning glance, head tilted and brows furrowed. now you’re all alone, and it’s quiet, peaceful. her brother went out to buy snacks for you. all you can hear is the low buzz of the radio downstairs, and faraway waves. 

“huh?”

“i mean, with, y’know…” she moves her hands haphazardly, making some kind of gesture you don’t understand. “with my brother. and your… condition.”

you blink.

“… did you just refer to my crush as a condition?”

“well, it might as well be!” she groans, muffled, faceplanting onto the mattress. “don’t think i didn’t see you checking out his biceps just now. you’re so obvious.” 

heat rushes to your cheeks. you try to shoo it away with a furrow of your brows and a too-loud exhale, but it lingers underneath your skin. “look — i —“ you scramble for the right words, brain tied up into fatigued knots. “did you see that shirt? is he buying them a size too small, or what?”

“oh, come on! that’s all it takes?”

another pair of exhales. you cross your legs, and she rolls onto her back. the silence is comfortable, grounding, and all you can do is gnaw at your bottom lip until she speaks up again.

“… you could really, really do better, you know?”

her voice is quiet, now. soft and sincere, delicate as a sheet of glass. you know she’s just looking out for you, that she doesn’t want you pining for a guy who’ll never return those feelings — she’s kind like that, always has been. you love her for it.

but…

“… i just like him.”

you take a tentative sip of your lemonade. sour and sweet. the cubes of ice clink against the glass, fresh condensation cooling down the tips of your fingers. her gaze lingers on your skin. it’s heavy, just like his.

you meet it with a sheepish smile, a little self-deprecating — but not embarrassed. she already knows all about your predicament. 

(you just like him. that’s all there is to it.)

and she pulls herself into a sitting position.

“i know, i know,” she finally sighs, slumping against you, cheek smushed over your shoulder. “just don’t give him more attention than me, ‘kay?”

you let out giggle. “well, duh.”

she gives you a sunny grin.

“okay, good.” 

you put the glass down on the windowsill beside you. just so you can stretch your arms out, falling backwards; a mountain of pillows cushioning your fall. a yawn spills past your lips, and riko sits up.

“wanna take a nap?” she tilts her head, dark locks framing her pretty blue eyes, deep as the sea. “that’s probably good. we’re going straight to the beach tomorrow, you know!”

“mm…” your eyes flutter shut, and you focus on that faraway sound. waves crashing against sand, the whistling of seagulls, the salty scent of the ocean. “that sounds nice.”

despite your exhaustion, you end up tossing and turning that night. not because of your best friend’s snores, or the feeling of a mattress you haven’t slept on in two years — but from the quiet sounds downstairs. glasses clinking, a chuckle here and there. the tv being turned on. tossing and turning from the knowledge that your childhood heartthrob, current heartthrob, is in the same house as you. a little older, a little less childish, even more charming than you remember him being.

you’re older, too. more mature, you like to think, even if the gain is small.

(maybe there’s a chance?)

shaking the thoughts from your head, mind still spinning along to the tune of his humming, you squeeze your eyes shut and try to fall asleep.

you’ll be okay.

okay, nevermind. you’re completely screwed.

“oh, there you are!”

satoru is already waiting up ahead when you step onto the beach, feeling the sand between your toes, a pleasantly cool breeze giving you respite from the sweltering heat.

the sun beats down on you, fervent sunlight warming the water up ahead, calm waves and a sparkling blue to match the hue of the sky; cobalts and ceruleans, melting together like watercolour on a canvas. people crowd around the food stands, shaved ice and churros and grilled fish, scents mingling together with the joyous chatter all around you. vibrant sensations, enough to excite but not to overwhelm. 

a picture-perfect summer day.

your heart tingles with something giddy, skipping happily as you follow riko’s lead; she’s wearing a cute bikini set, frilly and floral, hair styled into a pair of braided pigtails, kept together by her favorite scrunchies. leading you towards her older brother, waiting patiently, having already grabbed a nice spot for you. a parasol, a blanket, a picnic basket. you see bottles of pink lemonade, wrapped sandwiches, strawberries in a plastic container.

more than anything, you see him. you see him, and realize just how screwed you are.

he’s smiling, when you approach. as always. hair tousled by the ocean breeze, blue eyes gleaming with mirth, exposed by the sunglasses close to slipping down the bridge of his nose. he’s wearing a hawaiian shirt, black in colour, white floral patterns to tie it all together. just unbuttoned enough to show off his collarbone, a sliver of his chest, the short sleeves exposing his biceps; patches of pale skin, shining with the beginnings of sweat. 

(you’re about to fucking explode.)

as soon as you’re in sight, satoru lights up, aiming the flash of his phone in your direction. his other hand stays tucked into the pocket of his shorts. “aw, look at you two!” he coos, grinning brightly, teasing and sweet. “pose for the camera, okay?”

you’re still too hypnotized to react, but riko scurries ahead, ready to steal it from his grasp.

“no pictures!”

“oh, don’t be like that!” he takes a step back, dodging her attack by a hair, still wearing the same grin. “you’re gonna thank me ten years from now, trust me. it’s for the memories!”

a new voice spills into the air, suddenly, and you’re brought back into reality. it’s silky and low, smooth and nice, honeysuckle nectar turned into sound. interrupting the siblings.

“it’s been ten seconds. how are you already bickering?” 

you turn towards its source, and spot a familiar face — right next to satoru. were you seriously too mesmerized to notice him? black hair, another hawaiian shirt, slightly lidded eyes… 

suguru. 

he meets your surprised stare with a relaxed smile, and takes a step forward; meeting you for a quick hug. he looks the same as he did when you were younger, odd bangs, hair tied up into a bun.

“hi there,” he hums, right by your ear, a light squeeze before he lets go. “it’s been a while.”

you part your lips, smiling through your words. a little stunned. “i didn’t know you’d be here too!”

he chuckles, a light shrug of his shoulders. “me neither. satoru called me last night and asked me to drop by... i had time to kill.”

“you missed me.”

a dubious look. suguru gives a lazy roll of his eyes, avoiding the smug voice to his right. “i saw you last week,” he tuts, an unimpressed expression on his face. “how could i miss you?”

“do you need a reason to miss your best friend?” he shakes his head, slowly, side to side. white locks swaying back and forth. “awful. just awful.”

you stifle a smile, completely unsuccessful. the sun feels nice on your skin, and the scent of the sea is nostalgic, and they’re all the same as ever. it’s like you can feel your nerves melting away, slowly but surely, like grains of sand slipping through the gaps between your fingers. 

“the matching shirts are cute,” you point out, wanting to partake in the conversation, only to be met with a pair of furrowed brows.

suguru sighs. “that…” he mutters, massaging his temple, not before shooting satoru a dirty glance. “wasn't planned.”

said man only grins, unperturbed, tucking his phone back into his pocket. thoroughly amused. “he’s mad that i stole his fit,” he chirps, stretching his arms idly. it makes his shirt ride up, ever so slightly, and you swallow a gulp.

“well… you look good in it.”

at that, satoru stills. gazing at you, silently, before breaking out into another grin. self-satisfied, a smooth curve, sunlight against the white of his teeth. you glance away, suddenly a little shy.

“does he?” the other two deadpan, completely in sync. it shoos away the smile on his lips, making way for a displeased frown.

“oh, come on. would it kill you to call me handsome now and then?”

“handsome?” riko places her hands on her hips, raising an unimpressed brow, a sassy lilt to her voice. “you look like a single father down on his luck.”

“seconded,” suguru quips, hiding the beginnings of a smirk. picking at a piece of lint on his shirt. “honestly, i’m surprised you’re wearing any layers at all. not gonna flaunt your abs this time?”

satoru brightens, suddenly. wiggling his brows, a sweet coo on the tip of his tongue. “oh? want me to loosen up a couple buttons?” he purrs, and you hate yourself a little for the instant yes that resounds through your mind. “you know you can always just ask, suguru.”

his teasing goes ignored, but you don’t miss the amusement that flits through the scope of suguru’s eyes, even as he tries to maintain that deadpan expression.

finally, he exhales. “well, see you later,” he hums, directed to you and riko, checking the time on his wristwatch. “i should probably get going.”

“you’re not staying?” you ask, lashes fluttering with a confused blink. he smiles.

“i am,” he reassures you. “just gonna go fishing for a while. i thought i’d give it a try.”

“fishing?” riko exclaims, covering her amused grin with the palm of her hand. stifling laughter, you can tell, a bout of giggles begging to push past her lips. “what are you, fifty?”

satoru lets out a snort. to his left, suguru goes eerily silent — ominous, staring into your best friend’s eyes with no visible emotion. enough to make her smile fall. you feel a sense of deja vu.

“wait, i’m just kidding!” she suddenly squeaks, clinging to your arm and hiding behind you. she’s always had good survival instincts. ”don’t put me in a headlock!”

(they’re so stupid. 

gosh, you missed them.)

“oh, by the way — do you want some shaved ice?” she turns to you, eyes crinkled at the edges, voice syrupy and sweet. “i can go get us some. what flavour do you want?”

“ah, great idea!” satoru matches her tone, tongue flitting out to lick his lips, glossy with chapstick. “i was just craving something sweet.”

“you’re paying, by the way.”

“…”

“so? any preference?” she tilts her head, waiting patiently for your reply. smiling once she gets it. “alright, got it. you, suguru?”

“i’m good. thanks, though.”

“okie-dokie,” she puts her palm out, facing satoru. “money, please.”

he only tuts, digging through his pocket and pulling out a black wallet. you think you spot a photocard, but he’s pulled out a credit card and tucked it back into his pocket before you can get a closer look. 

“get me watermelon, okay? strawberry is fine too. if push comes to shove, go for anything other than lemon.” he hands her the card with a click of his tongue. “and watch out for creeps. if anyone hits on you, you know where to aim.”

she pockets it with a huff, exasperation on her features. “i’m twenty-three, toru. i can take care of myself.”

“aww, don’t be like that,” he coos, hands reaching out to squish her cheeks. she tries to squirm away, to no avail. “you’ll always be my little baby sister, you know. and, as your dependable big bro, i —“

“ugh, whatever.” she shoots him an unimpressed glance, finally escaping his hold. ”are you gonna go all men are wolves on us, or something?”

”they are! just look at suguru.”

”hey.”

you hide a growing smile behind your hand, watching them bicker and banter, feeling that sense of peace again. the summer day feels a little like a hazy daydream, a heavy nostalgia that sticks to your bones like gum on the sole of your shoe. 

and, once again — you end up alone with a certain someone. suguru walks towards the faraway pier, riko strolls up to the stand selling shaved ice, and satoru lingers behind. you think he looks relaxed, at ease, but you can’t really look at him for too long without feeling nervous. without feeling as if you’re both ignoring the elephant in the room. 

it still feels a little like there’s an invisible wall between you.

he’s the first to speak up, craning his neck and stretching like a big cat, a tiny groan flowing from his throat. “well, there they go,” he hums. “what do you feel like doing first?”

“ummm…” you rack your brain for ideas, coming up empty. a little fried by his presence. you could go into the water, and escape the heat — sunbathing with him doesn’t sound so bad, though…

lost deep in thought, you barely notice him inching closer. still weighing your options, water or land, a relaxing nap or a splash war. you don’t notice until you feel his arm sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer, just by a hair. stealing all the oxygen from your lungs.

(you think your brain shuts down a little.)

his touch burns, as always. bare skin on bare skin. electric, a trail of sparks rushing through your veins. he’s warm, and solid, effortlessly composed — guiding you right where he wants you, which is by his chest, where you can practically hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat —

and then he’s pulling away.

you raise your head to meet his gaze, completely flushed, unsure if you were hallucinating or not. he’s looking somewhere behind you, with a distinctly cold gaze, one you aren’t accustomed to seeing. you crane your neck, catching a glimpse of a man turning his back on you both before walking away.

… was he staring at you, or what?

when you search for satoru’s eyes again, they’re already on you. he’s smiling, a little sheepish, scratching at the back of his neck.

“sorry,” he chuckles. “i got paranoid.”

oh.

your skin still feels like it’s on fire. a lingering heat, blossoming where his skin touched yours, rendering you speechless. embarrassing, embarrassing, embarrassing. he was just looking out for you.

finally, you gain control over your vocal chords, dry and charred. just enough to croak out a response.

“i — it’s fine.”

your eyes stay glued to the sand beneath you, staring at a crushed seashell, unable to look him in the eye. feeling the back of your neck grow hotter. you miss the dirty glance riko sends his way, having just returned with the shaved ice, and the way satoru mouths out a silent what?

it’s easier after that. she grounds you, a little, leading you out into the sea. the water is pleasantly mild, licking at your ankles, coaxing you further, until it’s reaching up to your waist. it cools you down considerably, and before you know it you’re splashing her with all you’ve got, giggles filling the salty air — seagull cries above you and wet sand beneath your feet, a glimmer or two of tiny fish, loud laughter. sensations all around you. satoru watches you with a smile, munching on a sandwich, not joining you both until riko beckons him over.

the day stretches on, melting away into evening. people leave the beach behind them, suguru heads back to the house with a bucket of fish and a smug smile, riko dries herself off with a towel and rushes to a nearby convenience store when she notices that it’s about to close. murmuring something about dinner, shooting you an anxious glance, a silent will you be alright on your own? with him? 

you wave her off with a smile. hoping it’ll come off as convincing, even though you’re anything but.

one way or another, you end up under a parasol with a certain satoru gojo; putting empty bottles of lemonade back into the picnic basket, rolling up the blanket, stuck with cleaning duty. satoru carries it all, unwilling to let you help, the basket hanging off his arm. you walk away from the beach, stepping onto solid asphalt again, beginning your trekk up towards the main street — not too long of a walk, but you’re tired, even though satoru doesn’t seem tuckered out in the slightest. walking a step or two ahead of you.

the sun is beginning to set, melting like a sundae on the boundary of the horizon, rays of golden sunshine dripping down your wrist. satoru looks good in it, the pink and orange; peaceful, somehow. when the breeze licks a stripe across his cheek, he closes his eyes and exhales. there’s a smile on those lips, a smile of contentment.

he turns towards you and waits until you catch up.

“tired?” he coos, tilting his head, absently tucking his shades into the breast pocket of his shirt. blinking slowly, eyes shimmering in the summery hue of evening. 

“kinda,” you smile, trying to muster a pep in your step. another hum buzzes in his throat, and then he’s facing forward again.

“c’mon. let’s get you something from the vending machine, okay? ‘s just up ahead.” he pats your head, once, twice. “that’ll give you some energy.”

you can only nod, following his lead. hydrangeas bloom all around you, a thick syrupy scent, paired with apple blossoms from the backyards you pass. then you spot the vending machine. satoru takes out his wallet, finding his card — it’s not the same one as before. riko still has it.

and this time, you’re close enough to see it. in his wallet is a photocard, clearly visible; of a baby, sleeping soundly, with short tufts of hair. a dark colour unlike his own.

(your heart melts, a little.)

“cola or sprite?”

you raise your head, looking through the barrier of glass in front of you. then you’re stepping forward, fingertip pressing against it, pointing towards a green can of sprite. not looking at him, as you make your choice. ”this one.”

— suddenly, you feel his skin on yours.

you’re sleepy, and pliant, jaw caught between his fingers. he lifts it up, turns it towards him, just so that you’ll meet his gaze. two seas of blue, flecks of pure white, summer skies and summer clouds.

“there,” he exhales, pleased. giving you a reassuring smile before pulling away. “you’ve barely looked me in the eye today. ‘s gonna break my heart, y’know.”

a pause. you gulp, on instinct, shying away from his unbridled attention — eyes moving from those summer skies down to the curve of his glossy lips, and then back up again. a mistake, because when you glance down once more — unable to help yourself — you see it.

that apologetic smile.

(you really are obvious, aren’t you?

how embarrassing.)

silence splits the scene in half, only the faraway sounds of seagulls as background noise. they sound a little like they’re laughing, mocking you.

satoru presses a button on the vending machine, followed by a quiet beep. he doesn’t look at you when he broaches the subject, and you wonder if it’s out of respect or discomfort.

“still not over that schoolgirl crush, huh?”

…

something twists inside your gut. a little ugly, a little sentimental. now that he’s made the first move, it’s easier to move the pieces.

“… it’s not a crush,” you murmur, kicking at a pebble on the ground. surprised by how clear your voice comes out. “i’m in love with you.”

a sigh. another beep, and the sound of a sodacan falling against metal flooring. he crouches down.

“… you could really, really do better.”

you watch as he fumbles with the pick-up box, eyes trained on the back of his neck, the buzzed hair of his undercut. letting out a quiet breath. “riko said the same thing.”

a snort pushes past his lips, ripe with fondness. he pulls himself up from the ground, shifting his weight from one foot to another, reaching for his wallet again. “oh, i’m sure.” he tucks the card back, slipping it into his pocket. a stray cat strolls by you, unburdened, waving its tail in the air. “really, though. you should listen to her.”

something cold meets your cheek. metal, condensation, a pleasant shiver down your spine. he presses the aluminium can against you, and you receive it with a murmur of thanks.

“i’m too old for you, for one.” he continues, and suddenly you feel a little like you’re being lectured. you break open the lid of the sprite can.

“you’re five years older.” a fizzy sound crackles like static in your ears, carbonation bubbling up, sticking to your fingertips. “and we’re both adults.”

he huffs out a breath, only mildly amused. “i’m pushing thirty, y’know?”

you take a sip, lips against cold aluminum, melting sunrays lapping at your skin. it tastes sweet. 

“i know.” a pause, your bottom lip trapped between two sharp teeth. gnawing at the flesh. ”i can’t control how i feel, though.”

…

“yeah,” he sighs, leaning back against the glass. crossing one leg over the other, fiddling with something in his pocket. “i know.”

a moment passes. then he parts his lips, again.

“hey, how about you join me on a mixer someday?” he searches for your gaze, smiling, another one of those charming tilts of his head. “i know some cute guys. and girls, if that’s your thing.”

your answer is instantaneous.

“i’ll pass.”

…

another exhale, breathed out into the summer air. it’s dripping with exasperation, ripe with fatigue, but there’s still something fond there. unmistakable.

“fine, fine. just… think about it, okay?” his palm finds its way to your head, ruffling your hair with a gentle caress. that comforting weight. “c’mon, let’s go back. riri’s making dinner tonight.”

and then he’s taking a step forward. you watch his back for only a moment, still deep in thought. a fizzy, syrupy sweetness sticking to your teeth, a sense of nostalgia invading all your senses. and, as always, that silent adoration.

deep down, you know it’s true. there’s no changing this, whatever this is. in the same way riko will always be his baby sister, you’ll always just be the brat that sniffled into his chest after your first fight with her. 

he’ll never quite see you the way you’d like him to.

(but, then again, isn’t that a part of it? that subtle, subtle kindness of his. the sense of maturity that asks for nothing in return.)

satoru is a good guy. that’s why you can’t help but adore him, despite everything. can’t help but watch his back as he leaves you behind, wishing you could catch up. that your legs were long enough.

it feels nice, to open yourself up like this. crack the lid of your heart, and have him wade through the carbonation. it feels nice to have your feelings be acknowledged, even if they aren’t reciprocated, even if you’re completely delusional and high on summer joy. it feels nice just to watch him shine.

you gulp down the rest of your sprite, toss it into a trash can across the street, and stumble after him. veins sleepy, heart heavy, overwhelmed by adoration. you’ve already cracked the lid open; everything else comes easy. you just want to make a move, any move. want to see how he’ll react.

“satoru,” you call, and he comes to a standstill. when he turns around your arms are outstretched. “can i have a piggyback ride?”

the man before you blinks. once, then twice, fluttering like angel wings, or pretty clouds. 

and then his smile grows. you catch a glimpse of his dimples, for just a moment, and then he’s beckoning you closer with a chuckle.

“yeah? now you’re suddenly all brave?” he shakes his head, no real discontentment behind it. “or are you really that exhausted?”

he studies you intently, ripe with fondness, and you think your sluggish blinks must be enough to convince him. because he crouches down, back facing you, and chirps out a hop on. a little teasing, of course, but still nice. his arms underneath your thighs, lifting you up like it’s nothing. making sure you’re comfortable. he’s strong. very strong.

the butterflies in your stomach flutter around again.

and, honestly, you really are very exhausted. bones buzzing with something sleepy and fatigued, sore after all the running around you did in the water. completely tuckered out, resting your cheek against his back. like this, you can feel his muscles, the solidity of his body. it’s a little bit distracting.

“— remember?”

a series of blinks. you grasp onto his shoulders, holding back a yawn. “huh?”

“you falling asleep on me?” he chuckles, walking forward. one step after another, the soles of his sandals hitting the asphalt. “i was saying — how i remember doing this back then.”

you tilt your head.

“when you fell and twisted your ankle. i think it was nearby, actually… some park?”

“... oh.” when you really concentrate, you think you do recall it; the feeling of his back against your chest, a dull ache in your foot. “yeah, i remember.”

satoru hums, a little buzz of amusement. “after that, you and riri would ask me for it all the time. carry us, big bro!” his imitation makes you smile, voice high and squeaky. “so childish, i swear. i could barely carry one of you.”

a chuckle tumbles from your lips, and it seems to spur him on; because he continues. nostalgia pouring out his throat.

“don’t tell her, okay? but, see — i started going to the gym after that. lifting weights. training, and stuff,” he huffs out an amused exhale, grinning softly. “suguru made me carry boulders on the beach. it was kind of our thing.”

…

“we almost got arrested once.”

you can’t help but laugh, hiding in the smooth fabric of his shirt, in between those printed white flowers. shoulders shaking slightly, giddy and amused. “you did that just ‘cause you were embarrassed?”

“no,” he murmurs, softly, the slightest shake of his head. ”because i wanted to be prepared. in case the two of you ever happened to fall over at the same time, or something…” a sheepish little chuckle. ”i wanted to be able to carry you both back.”

satoru continues to walk, facing away from you. always smiling, you’re sure. even if you can’t see it.

“you’re both precious to me,” he says, making sure to keep a steady hold around your legs. “that’s why i don’t want either of you wasting yourselves on some random guy. i hope you can understand that.”

silence. then, a displeased huff.

“… you’re not some random guy, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“well, of course not. i’m the guy,” he stands a little straighter, and you can practically see the smug smirk on his lips. “but i’m not a very good person.”

you blink.

silence fills the open air.

he says it so casually that you almost don't catch it. matter-of-factly, like it’s just another obvious realization, something so deeply ingrained that it isn’t even worthy of a tonal shift. satoru, who makes pancakes for the people he loves, who carries your bags and buys you soda and keeps a picture of his baby sister in his wallet. satoru, your first love.

that satoru isn’t a good person?

(how could he ever, ever think that?)

“you are.”

a low hum buzzes in his throat. you’re not sure he heard you. if he did, he simply doesn’t care enough to respond. the scene flickers by, the moment comes and goes — you want to protest again, but something about this silence makes you hesitate.

the only thing you can do is —

“satoru.”

another little hum. acknowledging, this time. 

“do you… i mean,” you choke down a bundle of words, replacing them with new ones. gnawing at the flesh of your bottom lip. “is there really no chance… you’ll ever feel the same? none at all?”

…

a mirthless chuckle. he sounds a little tired, you think, more than a little exasperated. but the amusement is still there, laced into his voice, and you drink it in the same way you’ve always done. a little root, soaking in the light of the sun.

“after all that,” he mutters, “you’re still asking?”

a moment’s pause. you listen intently, as if you could hear the gears of his mind shift if you focus enough. as if just being stubborn enough could coax him into opening up the way you have. 

finally, he parts his lips.

“well,” comes a sigh, a click of his tongue. he breathes in the summer breeze. “maybe in a couple decades or so.”

you stare. those white tufts of hair sway with every step he takes, and his voice has a finality to it that isn’t lost on you. solemn, steady, a pillar of salt.

“… okay.”

a pause. then he’s barking out a short laugh, shoulders shaking with the sound. you tighten your grip around them. “okay?” he repeats, pinching the skin of your thigh. “can’t you read between the lines, you little troublemaker?”

a huff. you kick your legs, a little, just stretching them contentedly. wet hair sticking to his skin, your cheek still smushed against him, enveloped in his neverending warmth. “i don’t mind,” you whisper, choking down a yawn. “i’ve already waited eight years. a couple decades more isn’t too bad.”

silence, again. you wonder what he’s thinking, if you’ll ever come close to cracking open the lid of his heart. he parts his lips, and oxygen spills out.

(you think it’s a start.)

“… has anyone ever told you that you’re awfully stubborn?”

you’re quick to nod, nuzzling into his undercut. wearing a satisfied smile. “riko tells me all the time.”

“does she?” there’s silent laughter hiding between his teeth, eager to spill out. “that’s good. listen to her, alright? you might learn a thing or two.”

now he’s just teasing you. the sun is setting, and the air smells like saltwater, and satoru’s back is warm; his voice set to a melodic lilt, as if tempting you to close your eyes. it’s summer, in a quiet port town.

and you adore him again. 

that’s right, you muse, belatedly. loving him was never a choice, and waiting wasn’t ever an issue. getting over him is the tall hurdle, the root of the problem, a root you intend you trip over as many times as it takes for this something to bloom.

because he’s beautiful, and comfortable, and kind. because it’s his back you always end up clinging to. because he knows how you like your pancakes, how you take your coffee, what you look like when you cry. because you like this feeling, the swarm of butterflies in your stomach. even if they’re completely meaningless in the long run.

satoru is right, and so is riko. you’re stubborn, terribly so. if only you could see that as a bad thing.

if only you were physically capable of giving this something up.

unlike the siblings and their overgrown yard, you just can’t seem to look away from an ugly bud yet to bloom — just in case it ends up blossoming, this summer, or the next. just in case it turns into something worth plucking from the ground. it’s fine if it withers away; at least it’ll give way to better soil.

you just like him. you just want to see where it leads you. that’s all, that’s it. that was always it.

“but promise you’ll go with me to that mixer, okay?” his voice calls, breaking you out of your thoughts, unrelenting. ”i’ll find you someone who’ll get your mind off little ol’ me.”

ah. that’s right. 

(you’re terribly, horribly stubborn —

and satoru is too.)

you grin, soft and giddy, thinking of the years ahead of you both. what they’ll be like. where’s the fun in a certain future?

“fine,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. inhaling that familiar scent of sandalwood. “do your worst.”

[rowdydevs]

“𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐧𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦” - 𝐀 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚙𝚙𝚎𝚛!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚎

warnings: Rafe and reader are messy, quick to forgive, filthy, f/f/m, f/f, f/m, bisexual reader, oral male receiving, tit job, spit kink, cum play, snowballing, name calling, pet names, unprotected p in v, breakup -> makeup, first time ‘I love you’s’, reader purposefully makes Rafe jealous, pathetic!rafe, mating press, reader slaps rafe

𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐭𝐨 “𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞” 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 “𝐢𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐰”.

✨𝐈𝐧 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐁𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐠 “𝐀𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬.” 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫. 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐚 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐛. 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐠𝐞. 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐚 𝐟𝐫𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫, 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐢 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐮𝐩 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞…✨

lightly edited

a/n: sorry, babes. I've been so sick between stomach surgery and strep this took forever but I wanted to get it out before kinkmas. I hope it’s okay. Low key kinda bad but good smut imo 💕 Sorry in advance for spelling errors and plot holes 😭

5K

Reader's POV:

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖ flashback

You had completed your midterms, confident enough to feel like you aced it after studying. You went out with friends, Rafe, pulling his group along as well. It was a huge crowd: laughing, dancing, drinking, finally relaxing after a long week of studying, but cutting loose only made him tense up more, the outfit you wore fading his smile. The things that he couldn’t get enough of at the start just seemed to be a point of concern now.

Rafe’s big arm wrapped around your waist, holding you tight like he was worried you’d slip away. He finally eased up after teasing from your friends, letting you go on the dancefloor reluctantly. Rafe’s eyes only left you to scan the crowd, making sure no one was eyeing you up. Rafe, resting bitch face, sat a little deeper, his strong arms crossed over his tight chest.

Of course, JJ took notice. Seizing the opportunity to fuck with Rafe in the simplest way possible. Merely saying, “Hey, pretty girl,” as he shuffled past the two of you, walking toward the bar to order another round, his baby blue eyes roaming your body before looking at his frat brother, greeting him smugly. The look you gave JJ could have burned a hole through that pretty boy's face; your little exchange made the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.

Rafe was done. The night was far from over. But, all his worries about coming out to this bar, with these people, with you dressed like this, were coming true. When you got in the cab, the accusations started flying.

“Dressin’ like that in front of these boys? Are you fuckin’ kidding me right now? What the hell did you think was going to happen? Huh? Why the hell did he come over in the first place if you weren’t smilin’ at him or some shit? Did you notice the way he was lookin’ at you? Do you even fuckin’ care? No. Because you love it. Fuckin’ whore-” Your hand connected with his cheek fast and hard, sending the whole car silent.

“I don’t know who the fuck you think your talkin’ to, Rafe, but it ain’t me,” you hissed as you look up at the man before you, red-cheeked and glossy-eyed. “I wore this for you. I only care about you. If I didn’t care about you, do you think I’d be putting up with all this shit? Huh?”

“M’sorry, I called you that. Aight? But, you were doin’ just fine when you were drinkin’ with me. We were havin’ a good time-”

“Were we?” You lift your voice as he lies through his teeth. “You hated every second of that, Rafe.”

“Bullshit.”

“You held onto me like you were afraid I was gonna run away-”

”I just wanted to be with you. Okay? Your friends were pullin’ you away. Sorry for wanting to have a night out with my girlfriend-”

“You’re smothering me, Rafe.”

“Why is that a fuckin’ issue? You’re mad at me because I’m giving you attention. You’re mad because I care? You’re mad because I want you for myself. Do you hear how ridiculous you sound?”

”Do you want me to feel bad for you, Rafe? Because I don’t. You knew who I was when you started dating me. I’m not some girl that’ll stand by you and look pretty. I won’t apologize for dressing like a woman and wanting to have some fun.”

“So you don’t have any fun with me. Is that what I’m hearing? Am I not giving you enough attention? You gotta dress like this and get it from someone else?”

“What?”

”’Cause if that’s what you were tryin’ to do, Princess. You succeed. M’sure JJ’s gonna be strokin’ his shit thinkin’ about you.”

“JJ?” You ask tiredly. “You think I dressed like this for Maybank? Are you kidding me?”

”M’Not.”

”5th and Main,” you call out to the driver. “Can you stop at 5th and Main first? Please?”

”Nah. Nah. Fuck that-”

”Fuck that? Fuck you,” you snap as your frustration bubbles over. “If you think I’m going back to the frat with you, you’re crazy.”

“I AM fuckin’ crazy. Jesus fuck. She’s not goin’ home,” Rafe shouts at you, then the driver.

“Pull over the car,” you level your voice.

“Don’t,” Rafe challenges him through the rearview mirror. The driver pulls over regardless, making Rafe let out a growl of frustration, pushing open the door before the vehicle can even roll to a complete stop.

You climb out of the car, two blocks away from your place, wrapping your arms tightly around your waist as you bound toward your place. Tears gather in your eyes, hazing your vision. You hear a step of big feet walking behind you, making your anger swell inside.

“Go away, Rafe.”

“You’re not walkin’ home alone. If you’re going to be a fuckin’ brat and not talk to me, I don’t give a fuck. If you think lettin’ you walk alone downtown on a Friday night, you’re fucking delusional.”

“Asshole,” you grumble.

“Ungratful fucking bitch. Jesus Christ,” he mumbles.

“Oh yeah, Rafe?” You call back as you turn on your heels, walking toward him fast, making his eyes double as he catches the outrage in your eyes. “Call me a fuckin’ bitch one more time and see what happens.” You step in, shoving him back, making him scoff and suck his teeth.

“‘See what happens?’” He laughs weakly. “‘See what happens, princess?’ You fuckin’ serious right now?” He asks as he looks down at you in irritation.

“Can only say that shit when I have my back turned, fuckin’ pussy.”

“You’re drunk,” he scoffs.

“I should be, Rafe! I should be drunk right now. I should be drinkin’ and dancin’ with you and my friends. I should be dragging you off the dancefloor because I can’t take my hands off you. I shouldn’t be fightin’ with you right now. I deserve to be happy. I deserve to have someone who makes me feel secure. Your insecurity is bringin’ the both of us down.”

“I’m not insecure-”

”The fuck you aren’t,” you cut him off as you turn and walk away. “I need space.”

“Space? This isn’t high school. The fuck do you need space for? You either want me or you don’t.”

“I want you, Rafe. I don’t want whoever the fuck this is,” you sneer.

“You walk away from me, and we’re fuckin’ done. All right?”

“Done? So, a break isn’t an option. You can even let me have space; it's just one or the other.”

“If you liked me, sweetheart, that wouldn’t be a fuckin’ worry of yours. Hey, where the hell are you goin’?” He barks as you press toward your place. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Obviously.” You scoff before looking back, watching his beautiful blue eyes glisten under the streetlight— the man biting his cheek and flaring his nostrils to hold back his tears between controlled breaths.

“You’re such a bitch. You know that?” He asks, barely able to press the words past his quivering lips.

“Yeah, Rafe? A bitch you couldn’t handle. I’ve been me since the start… The only person that changed is you.”

Rafe lowers his head, nodding, accepting defeat for the moment, or maybe he’s planning his next dig. Either way, you were done. You turn around, walking toward your place, climbing the stairs before back at him. His eyes are still on you, making sure you’re safe before rubbing the tears of frustration out of his eyes and pulling out his phone.

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖ the blue flame…

“What should the caption be?” You ask with a devilish smile as you lay back on the couch, fingers hovering over your phone as Cali taps her chin, thinking of something that would piss Rafe off the most.

“Something simple. I don’t think it’s going to take a lot.” You laugh at her understatement of the century. Drumming your fingers, you play around with a few captions yourself as Cali workshops her own while dusting on some setting powder in the mirror. “Miss me?”

“Hmm… I mean, I want him to think I’m unbothered.”

“You are unbothered.”

“For sure,” you sigh.

”Umm… What about ‘she’s back and hotter than ever?’ I can send it to my account. You’ll look completely unbothered, which you are-“

“Completely,” you laugh as you let her do your dirty work.

“Sent,” she looks up at you with a smile.

“Ahh!” You squeal as you see the notification come in, and before you can even open the post to double-tap, he’s there…

Picture liked by: Rafe Cameron

You tilt into the mirror, the bright lights of the vanity casting a warm glow on your face as you slick on some shimmery gloss. You take out your perfume, spritzing on your signature scent. Turning to the side you check your reflection, seeing a very different woman than before, one you hadn’t seen in a while. Your curves are dressed in pink lace lingerie purchased by Rafe, a matching bubble gum-colored wig on your head, styled just right.

Cali breezes past; her energy, infectious. Deja vu sets in as she presses a quick kiss on your cheek. “Old times, baby,” she sings as her eyes sparkle with excitement.

“Old times,” you coo as you give her a little turn in your Pleaser heels.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she hums. “You’re about to ruin that man’s life.” She gestures toward the stage, widening your eyes as you put two and two together.

“He’s here?” You ask, biting back an anxious smile.

“First one in the house, baby doll.” She struts toward you, pulling you in for a hug, grounding you in the moment as your thoughts race away. This isn’t just about dancing and games; it’s about reclaiming my space, my confidence, who I was before I met him too… “Let him know who he lost. Huh?” She looks back at you lovingly as she brushes your hair into place.

You walk toward the stage, heart thudding with excitement, wig bouncing with every leggy stride. Shit. You look through the slight gap in the curtain, seeing Rafe from afar. His eyes are locked on his phone as a girl dances before him, paying her no attention. He looks up, making your stomach fall as his eyes set on yours; he blinks a few times to ensure he’s seeing this just right as the music shifts.

Rafe swallows thickly, adjusting in his seat uneasily, looking around at his frat brothers to clock where their attention is paid. You step out onto the stage, feeling yourself in your element again. Avoiding his eye contact, you glance around the dim room, pulling attention from every corner as you approach the beat. Cheers and whistles fill the space—a familiar chorus of sounds that have you smiling through the pressure.

You can feel the burn of Rafe’s gaze, heavy and intense, but you choose to ignore it as you step toward the end of the stage; toward the pole—toward Rafe and his brothers.

Shifting to your knees, you crawl to his frat brother, watching from the corner of your eye as Rafe’s expressions changes. The tension between the two of you is thick. “Holy shit,” the other boy groans as you roll to your back, hands working up your body, toiling over the pink set that your ex bought you. You roll away, moving toward the pole, feeling the pull of Rafe still as you step away.

You grab the bar and flick your hair back to the beat drop, feeling the music pulse through you as you start to find your rhythm. “Y/n?” That same boy gossips to the boys next to him, the news spreading like wildfire a second later.

“Ain’t that your ex, Rafey?” You hear JJ chime in and feel your first sting of regret. “Just fuckin’ killin’ it. Aren’t you, princess?” He continues to needle as the rest of the boys pile on. Rafe’s brothers hoop and holler as he throws daggers at the group—his stare looking like it could fuckin’ kill.

And in that moment you can’t help but think back to the fight you had with Rafe, the one where he called ‘a fuckin’ whore’. The one where he questioned your loyalty to him, spouting off that you might be doing this all for the very boy who’s praising you now. That little ‘hey, pretty girl’ JJ said in passing just to grind his gears seemed ludicrous now. That slight sting of regret quickly soothed by the balm of pleasure.

Grabbing the pole, you spin around it with slight work, the spotlight shining as you danced. The crowd cheered louder and louder as the expression on Rafe’s face pulled darker and darker. His anger only fueling your performance.

“Take it all,” one of the boys cheers, tossing cash like rain. You turn around, smiling at the man on the opposite side of Rafe, thanking him with a look as you work lower and lower. The brunette moves forward, tucking a fifty-dollar bill in your bra strap with a smile. “For you, baby,” he hums in a smooth, inviting voice as the crowd roars. Rafe’s frat brother leans in closer, and so do you, lowering his voice slightly. “I’m reserving the champagne room, and I want you and only you. Alright?”

“What?” You ask with a curious tip of your head, playing innocent, but you heard him loud and clear.

“The champagne room. You and me,” he calls a little louder with a wicked smirk plastered on his lips. You smile at him, not agreeing or disagreeing, watching as Rafe pushes to his feet before your eyes can even turn to his— a mix of regret and helplessness as he shoves his way through the thick crowd toward the bar as your song closes out.

You crash down on the couch and pull out your phone, pounting your lip, half-expecting some message from Rafe. Nothing… You open Instagram, scanning Cali’s page, checking the post.

Rafe Cameron: My beautiful girl

Warmth floods through your body, butterflies swirling in your stomach. He could have sent a nasty DM telling you to take it down; he could have cursed out all the thirsty commenters, but he chose this route. My girl… Not at the moment, but your heart melted at his words.

“You saw it too?” Cali asks teasingly.

“Mhmm…” You admit, biting back your giddy smile.

“And, how does that make you feel, beautiful girl? Swooning?”

You chuckle and nod, feeling your cheeks burn from your smile. “A little.”

Before you can say anymore, the stage manager pops her head through the door. “Ladies, one of those boys reserved the champagne room. He specifically requested the both of you.” Your stomach turns, thinking about Rafe’s frat brother’s offer and the thought of him making good on his word.

The idea of dancing on the stage was one thing… Dancing privately? That would not happen. Not if I ever wanted to work things out with Rafe.

“Umm,” your friend hums uneasily from the other end of the room, picking up on the same thing.

“You two in or are you out? The guy who reserved the champagne room paid a lot to buy his brother out. He’s got it reserved until the bar close.” The anxiety you felt is snuffed out in an instant, a surge of happiness courses through you the next. Rafe. You nod excitedly as Cali rises on her heels as the night changes.

You take a deep breath, walking toward the Champagne Room, heart pounding with the bass. You look toward the stage, all of the boys long gone. Maybe they’re all in there? You step toward the curtain, hearing the glass clinking as a drink’s poured.

Cali grabs the curtain, pulling it back, drawing a wave of relief with it. You see your handsome ex sitting behind the table with three glasses of champagne drawn, thankful you only had to share him with Cali. You smile at him, watching the tension in his shoulders physically fall as he sees your expression, the man not knowing what to expect; the moment reminiscent of your first night together, how excited you were to climb into the hot tub with him.

“Hey, baby,” he grins, his voice deep and warm—eyes never leaving yours. Your heart swells at the sound of his voice. “This alright?” He asks, still giving you control of the situation, a genuine tone letting you know he was still giving you an out if this isn’t something you wanted to deal with. If you no longer wanted this… If you no longer wanted him.

“Mhmm,” you hum as you walk closer with Cali.

“I wanted to make sure you both felt comfortable,” he replies, glancing briefly at her before returning his focus to you. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured, especially since we’re… you know, figuring things out.”

“The entire night, Cameron?” Cali cuts in teasingly as she climbs on the table.

“Couldn’t take any risks,” Rafe sighs blissfully, watching you grab her hand to step on the table. The song changes overhead, filling the space around you.

Your heart pounds and you and Cali move in perfect harmony, bodies flowing and swaying to the music as if you’d never left. You catch his gaze again, causing a rush of adrenaline to course through your system. You can see the adoration in his eyes and the smile playing on his lips with every stolen glimpse.

He can't take his eyes off of you, that feeling that you lost coming back to you fast. You twirl and spin around the pole, catching your ex’s broad expression—a mixture of awe and lust. Rafe’s had more lap dances than he could count, but he’s never seen you like this.

As the song shifts, the beat transforms into something slower, the vibe in the room shifting to match the rhythm. You climb to your knees, crawling toward Rafe just as you did to his brother before. He smiles and shakes his head, leaning in as you draw nearer. The air between you, charged; tension thick, begging to be cut.

In one swift motion, he reaches for you, tugging you off the table and onto his lap, making you gasp as you settle into his embrace. The warmth of his body envelopes you, his rich cologne muddling your senses. “Princess. You’re killin’ me,” he groans, in a voice low and needy; his hold firm yet gently—the perfect cocktail.

“We just started, Rafey,” you whisper against his lips.

“Before we go any further, you gotta know how sorry I am, baby.”

“I know,” you whisper earnestly. “I know, Rafe.” You stare back into his pretty blue eyes, watching them shimmer under the neon club lights just like they had the week before when he was fighting back the tears like he is right now, but this time, he looks a little more hopeful. “Let’s have a little fun tonight. We can talk about it later. Yeah?” You echo those exact words you said to him on the first night you were together, making him chuckle and smile, feeling it too.

“Whatever you want. I’m down.”

“Atta boy.”

His hands hold onto your waist, letting loose enough for you to turn, pressing your back against his broad chest and your heels firmly planted on the ground, not wanting to let go now that he has you close.

Rafe’s big hands rest against the fullness of your thighs, moving higher, playing with the hem of your panties before skimming your stomach, resting on your tits. You grab his wrists, lifting his hands, and he doesn’t fight you, knowing he’s getting away with murder already, given the situation. “What does the sign say, baby boy?” Cali asks mockingly. Rafe’s head falls back on the back of the booth as he lets out a sleazy laugh. Rafe follows your lead, tucking his hands under his thighs.

“No touchin’.”

“No touchin’, Cameron,” you smile. You roll your body into him as Cali steps down from the table. Your curves push into him, each grind and roll making him sweep for a breath. "Remember this, Daddy?" You whisper against his ear in a taunting hum, feeling as his heartbeat racing against your back.

He turns toward you, tucking himself in your neck, chuckling warmly, his voice fanning against your skin as you hook your hand around, clutching him for support, manicured nails scratching into his hair at the nape of his neck. “You feel how hard I am right now, doll? Been thinkin’ about this shit every night. ‘Course I remember.”

“Look at you bein’ a good boy,” Cali praises as Rafe keeps his hands to himself, his jaw clenched tight as he tries to keep himself in check.

“Tryin’ Cals…” He soughs as his eyes fall down your body, picturing you riding him just like this. “Fuck, baby. You looked amazing up there,” Rafe praises as you swivel your ass on top of him. “So fuckin’ perfect.”

“Our girl always looks good,” Cali coos as she hooks her finger under your chin, guiding your lips to hers. Cali leans in, her mouth barely grazing over yours, turning it into a soft, lingering kiss. “Just give me the word, and I’m out,” she smiles along your lips, her sultry voice gentle, for your ears only.

“Thank you, Cals,” you hum, watching Rafe shift closer, hoping you’ll invite him in too. You pull back slightly, glancing at Rafe, catching the heat in his stare. He swallows hard, every inch of him screaming with desire, muscles flexed to keep his hands at bay, fully lost in the moment. You look back at Cali, cocking your head slightly, nodding at Rafe, a secret conversation shared between the two of you.

"What are you two doing? Huh?" He asks through a breathy laugh, feigning innocence, but his dark, lust-hazed stare says the complete opposite.

"Just making sure you're comfortable," you smile as you cup his cheeks. Rafe melts into your touch as you lean in, the man humming as you kiss the corner of his mouth. Rafe chases your lips as you pull away; lashes fluttering open as your hands fall down his body. You pop each button open, feeling the moment's thrill intensify with each peek of tanned skin. "Look at you," you whisper desperately as you eye the man before you.

“So handsome,” Cali mumbles as she pushes your hair off your shoulder, kissing along your neck.

"More comfortable now," Rafe quips, reveling in your playful teasing. His broad, muscular chest rises and falls with his quick breathing.“Fuck… Ya’ll aren't doin’ this for everyone? Right?” He pants with a joking bite as his eyes follow you.

You roll your eyes and smile as you play with the hardware of Rafe’s belt as Cali toys with the clasps of your lingerie, peeling the lace off your skin before grabbing your tits. “Only for you.”You lower his zipper; Rafe quickly takes his cue, fighting his jeans off his thighs as he watches Cali’s hands and lips caress you. Rafe pulls his boxers down, fat cock painfully hard, smacking his toned stomach with an upward curve.

You reach for him, guiding him where to sit, pulling him to the edge of the seat. Wrapping your fingers around his long dick you stroke him nice and slow with your hands as Cali gathers your hair from behind, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail, the sight making the big frat boy’s eyes roll back in his skull.

You swirl your tongue around his pulsing head, taking a few shallow, teasing bobs that has his abs flexing tight. You drag off his cock, leaving behind a wet mess, saliva strung from his red tip to your pillowy lips. “So beautiful. Fucking hell, sweetheart. More… Give it to me,” he groans drunkenly as you move even closer, resting his girthy dick between your breasts. Cali reaches around your body, pushing your plush tits around him, making him suck his bottom lip between his teeth.

His hooded eyes finally leave yours, falling down your perfect body, landing where his throbbing cock lay nestled between you. “Fuck me, Rafe.”

“Oh, fuck,” Rafe moans in reply; forearms and biceps flexing as he quickly pitches his hips upward, fucking himself with your tits. He moans like a fucking pornstar, panting and huffing as he uses your body like a toy.

Precum beads at the tip of his cock, rolling down the side before coating his length as he continues to stroke. You lay out your tongue for him, looking for a little more, and without being told, he smiles down at you devilishly, tilting in just enough to spit in your mouth. The wet drips off your tongue, falling between your breasts onto his cock. Cali jiggles your tits, playing a cruel game with him, making his thick thighs clench under your hold.

"Just killin’ me… C’mon," Rafe moans, still using your breasts to stroke his length. “Gonna cum. Where do you want it, princess?”

“In our mouths,” you smile, making him let out your name through a shaky breath. The two of you move on either side of his trembling body, gliding your tongues up the side of his long, thick dick to the tip.

“Fuckkkk,” he curses and groans, releasing his arms from under his thighs to grip the back of the leather bench as your tongues swirl together, teasing the tip of his cock again and again until he’s cumming in spurts, the two of you catching his load on your lips and tongue continuing to kiss eachother as you wrap your fingers around his dick, coaxing out the last bit of his release.

Cali reaches over, pinching your cheeks, snowballing his cum into your mouth. Smiling at you as you swallow it all, cleaning off your pouty bottom lip with her thumb.

Rafe loses all control, reaching for you and pulling you toward his lips. Your mouths crash together, your heart fluttering with warmth at his softness and familiar taste that has shivers falling down your spine. With each swirl and flick of your tongue against his leaves, you feel like you could float away.

He slows his pace, wrapping his strong arm around your body, pulling you into him, his dewy skin clinging to yours. “Can we have a minute, Cals,” Rafe mumbles against your lips. Her heels click against the floor, already at the curtain, smiling delightedly for you and him, giving you a little wink before slipping out.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he whispers just above the thump of the music, his deep voice laced with raw vulnerability. “I was… I don’t even have the right words for how stupid I was. My jealousy. I know it was out of control. I just… I was jealous, especially when I saw other guys looking at you. I was scared of losing you.”

“I never gave you a reason to worry, Rafe…”

“I know, princess. I never wanted to make you feel like I didn’t trust you or make you feel suffocated. I see now how unfair I was being. I was lettin’ my insecurity get the better of me. You were right, baby.” The regret is clear, painted all over his handsome face. His broad shoulders slump at the weight of his regret; his forehead tilts against yours. “Called you some awful shit too…”

“You did…”

“Please, forgive me,” he begs. “I just need you in my life. You make everything better. I’ll treat you right. Yeah? Just please.”

“I forgive you, baby-”

“Need you to say it,” he whispers. “Tell me you're my mine.”

“I’m your yours.”

“God, that sounds so fuckin’ good,” he drawls, his voice thick like honey. “You mean everything to me. I'm not perfect. Clearly… We both know that, but I’m not going to fuck up like I did. I promise. Okay? You mean too much to me.”

“Okay, baby,” you smile warmly as your forehead rests against his.

“You know, I love you.”

You brush your thumbs along his cheeks, relishing those sweet words he's never said before. "I love you too," you whisper back, trembling with excitement and emotion.

“Yeah?” He asks happily as he pulls you in a little closer, elated, somehow worried you wouldn’t say it back.

“Mhmm… I love you, baby,” you mumble against his lips.

“I love you, princess… So much. Holy shit,” he groans as he buries himself in your neck, hugging you tight. “Worst fuckin’ week of my life, baby—Missed you. Fuck, I missed you, pretty girl. N’shit… I forgot how filthy you are,” he teases as he kisses along your neck, tickling your sides, making you squirm away, but he’s just too strong.

“Rafe, stop,” you scold through a giggle. He pulls back, relaxing in the booth, beckoning you with his stare as he licks his perfect lips. “Maybe I am… But you fuckin’ love it,” you smile as you tilt closer with each word that falls from your tongue.

“I’m a slut for you. That shit’s clear, princess.”

“Crystal clear,” you whisper as your lips brush him gently. Rafe lifts his hand, flicking his wrist, catching the time on his watch.

“Got an hour left, pretty,” he smiles as his big hands move lower, playing with the hem of your panties. You rise on your heels, letting the man pull your lingerie over your curves. He kisses your skin, lingering as the pink lace falls around your ankles.

“I’m all yours,” you breathe as he pulls you back onto his lap.

You suck in a breath as he cups your wet pussy in his big hand before curling two fingers, easing them inside you slowly as your head falls back. "That's it… Just take it, baby,” he groans, working them in and out of you at the perfect pace.

You lean forward, wrapping your hands around his neck, panting into his warm neck as he curls his fingers inside you, rolling his big thumb on your clit. Your pussy squelches with each push of his hand, making him release a hungry moan. Rafe lifts you effortlessly, laying you on your back, burying himself between your thighs, lips locking on your puffy clit. Your hips buck, but he strong-arms you, pinning your hips in place, lapping at your cunt.

“Rafe… Please,” you whimper, teetering on the edge of ecstasy as he plunges his tongue in your greedy hole, throwing you over the edge. Your fingers twist into his carmel-colored strands, tugging as your pleasure releases, pulsing around his tongue as he brushes his fingers quickly; Rafe moaning into your pussy between breaths.

Your body melts into the booth, hips rocking into him as his tongue dances, kisses, and drags through your soaked folds. He lets out a raspy, satisfied chuckle as he crawls closer, jerking his cock in his big fist before pressing it against your glossy hole. You reach for a breath, tears of pleasure soaking your cheeks already, looking up at the man who has no intention to stop ‘til you properly fucked out.

You gasp as he thrusts into you roughly, knocking the breath out of your chest. “Finally, princess… Mpfhh. Fuckin’ missed this shit,” he croons as he hooks your legs over his wide shoulders, pressing his weight into you to see how deep he can get.

“Fuck, Daddy,” you whimper, eyes rolling back as he drags his cock out before before thrusting deep again. Your clear heels clack with every snap of his hips; Rafe, hitting all the right spots, making you see stars.

“You like this shit, princess. Love bein’ stuffed full of me. Huh?”

“Yes. Yes, Fuck.” You whine as he punctuates your words with a rough thrust.

Rafe switches positions, grabbing your wrists, pinning them above your head with a single hand. He uses the other to clasp your chin, guiding your lips to his. His tongue slides along yours, hints of your arousal and his melting together, along with the sweetness of his lips, leaving you whimpering against his mouth. “Just pullin’ me in,” he grunts as your body swallows him up.

“Rafe… Fuck. Shit,” You whine as he snakes his other hand up, fingers interlocking with yours.

"Me too, princess," he whispers against your lips, toned hips speeding up, chasing his orgasm and yours.

Just like that, your body lets go, heels digging into the leather seat, hands squeezing Rafe’s tightly as your wet walls pulse around his thick length; Rafe fills you with white ropes of cum as he pushes his load deeper and deeper ‘til all that’s left is panting breathes and ‘I love you’s.’

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖ ⋆ ࣪. ˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪ ٬ ุ๋ ⸱ ⊹ ｡✧ ﾟ˖

[q8qwertyuiop8p]

The fact that they killed off silco at the end of season 1 and STILL managed to completely butcher his character in s2 irks me so much. And it got worse with every scene like

The burial and the sucker montage was perfectly fine, though they forgot silco can't close both eyes and had a bullet wound in his chest

The way he is still encouraging Jinx to be Jinx in her ep4 hallucination is a little odd since he died accepting her before she truly chose Jinx but overall it was good

Warwicks hallucination was neat but Silco's hair is completely inconsistent with what we see in s1 (and just looks trash imo)

The letter was a disaster because it is such a cheap reason for the betrayal

The Felicia thing made their reasoning so much worse, they don't need to be godfathers to adopt those kids and the scene was just so pointless

The au scene- I don't even know what to say. Vander literally tried to murder Silco but it's OK because aw forgiveness and they are back together?! If Vander tried to kill Silco because he genuinely believed he was protecting his people from further bloodshed maybe I could get behind it but no, he tried to kill Silco because his friend died (which wasn't even Silco's fault) and he just 'lost his head'? And does Silco just not develop trust issues after that in the au? How is his scar somehow less bad if he doesn't have shimmer to heal it? It literally makes zero sense.

And the thing with Silco telling Jinx to 'break the cycle' was just an absolute insult to his character. He literally died choosing war/violence rather than giving up Jinx. His whole goal was to keep fighting for what he believed in. And is he seriously encouraging Jinx to kill herself? The man who chose to keep fighting rather than give in to the 'peace in water'? The man who would do anything to keep Jinx alive, even when death was the kinder option? The man who gave up his dream, everything he'd ever been fighting for, just to keep her safe?

They messed up so bad that the only flawless scene of him was a one second shot of him sitting in a chair 💀

The only good thing about what happened in this season is I'm genuinely not even upset that he is a minor character in season 2 anymore. I can't believe I'm saying this but I genuinely can't be mad about it. Because if they can ruin his character this much with his little screentime I can't even imagine the harm they would have done if he were still a main character.

Sometimes death is a mercy after all.

[yeowangies]

Unexpected yet sweet

PAIRING: Goku/Broly/AFAB!Reader. CONTENTS: Explicit Sexual Content, First time, Voyeurism, First time blowjobs, Threesome (F/M/M), Cunnilingus, Double Penetration in Two Holes, Spit as Lube, Unprotected Sex, Implied Cheating. WORDCOUNT: 8813.

Summary:

Normally, if Goku wasn’t there, this would be the part where you’d kiss Broly. Goku was right there, which made things a little uncomfortable.

But maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Notes:

I spent sooo long writing this fic, it's insane. I love threesomes but at the same time they are so difficult to write. I'm still taking one for the team!

There's a lot warnings and heads up: Broly/Goku and Goku/Reader are minor relationships but it's there anyway, the focus is Broly/Reader; the implied cheating is there, but i clarified a lot of things at the end, i just don't wanna spoil the story; this fic has a plot, but imo it's a small plot in comparison, most of it is just porn lmao

Also the reader is a selfish person, I enjoyed writing her lmaooo

Enjoy! Thank you reading this monstruosity lmao

divider by @/adornedwithlight

When Goku brought Broly to stay on Earth for some time, you were curious about what another Saiyan would be like. You had Vegeta, Raditz and Nappa’s images in your head, so you were expecting another callous, ruthless warrior who only wanted to fight no matter what. But instead, Broly was just a sweet man, clueless about the universe and even more so about how relationships worked. He reminded you a bit of Goku when he was a kid, with no idea about social norms. 

Bulma had told you about his fight against Goku and Vegeta, and Goku had mentioned some things about the training they sometimes went through on Beerus’ planet. You can only imagine what Broly’s life would have been like before all that, but he seemed unaffected, always calm and easy going. 

So you were happy to help, and you let Broly stay in your house when he wasn’t training with Goku and Vegeta. He was gone for the most part, but when he was home, he was curious about everything. It was cute, you could tell he was shy about asking you about things he didn’t understand, but you had no problem in explaining things to him. Like how the stove worked, or why it rained sometimes, or how the plumbing system operated. Explaining that last one to him was a headache because you weren’t even sure about it yourself. 

The more time you spent with him, you started wondering about how much he knew about other things. Broly was a grown man who had lived on an isolated planet with his father until very recently, and the only woman he had been around for some time was Cheelai. He couldn’t possibly be a virgin, right? Especially not with those looks. You’re not sure about how attractiveness is perceived in other planets, but he sure was handsome on Earth. Gorgeous, tall and mysterious, that would make any woman and even men go after him. You didn’t ask him about it, but you let the thought dwell on you more than it should. 

Goku took him away to train for a few months, and that’s all it took for the desire you had to consume you. Maybe it was wrong to think so much about it, but you couldn’t help it. You had been with Broly for a while now, and you had seen him shirtless a handful of times too, your eyes not too shy to trail over his torso, well defined and covered in scars, until he would put on a shirt or walk away. And his shyness and apparent inexperience made him so much more attractive. 

And he must be big too, if his overall appearance was any indication. 

After some months away training God knew where, Goku and Broly popped up in your living room, startling you while you were eating. 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to you showing up like that, Goku.” You told him, clutching your chest tightly. 

“Sorry!” Goku apologized with a chortle, eying the snacks in front of you. “Can I have some?”

“Sure…”

You looked over at Broly while Goku basically stuffed his mouth with what used to be your food. He was smiling softly at you, and you returned it, not exactly as soft. 

“How was training?”

“Good! Broly keeps getting better at controlling his power.” Goku answered with his mouth full. 

“That’s great!”

You kept glancing not so discreetly at Broly as he approached the table, grabbing some of the snacks before Goku could eat them all. At least he was a little more delicate about his eating manners. 

“Maybe I should start dinner.” You locked eyes with Goku, and he smiled widely. “Do you want to stay too?”

“Yeah!”

“Won’t Chichi be mad if you’re late?”

“Uh, she kinda got mad when I left some months ago…” Goku scratched the back of his head nervously. “So I don’t wanna go back just yet…”

You smiled, amused. Chichi sure had a handful with Goku as a husband.

You were used to making food for a banquet then, especially with how Broly ate, so you simply doubled up the amount of food this time (leaving your fridge almost empty). 

“It’s always nice when I stay to eat at your place, your food is really good!” Goku commented with a grin, rubbing his stomach through his clothes after he had cleaned his plate. 

“Thanks. Broly, did you enjoy the food?”

“I did.” He smiled gently. Broly had always been a man of few words, but his smiles worked as a reward.

“Your food is just as good as Chichi’s!” Goku added, eating the few crumbs left on his plate, making you snort.

“Careful, if she knows you said that she’s going to kick your ass.”

“Nah, she won’t care. She’s not that jealous.”

“In what universe is Chichi not jealous?” You stared at him like he was crazy but he ignored you as he walked over to the couch and lied down. 

“She’s not! At least she hasn’t said anything to me.”

“Maybe the fact that she doesn’t want you to leave for months should give you a clue?”

“Oh.” Goku looked at you curiously before shrugging. “Well… Chichi understands me.”

“Who’s Chichi?” Broly asked, bringing your attention to him.

“Goku’s wife, she’s a fiery woman.”

“Like you?” He added innocently, and you laughed quietly.

“Me? You think I’m fiery?” 

Broly nodded and Goku chortled. 

“You sure are!” Goku said, getting even more comfortable on your couch and putting his arms behind his head. “You don’t get mad as often as Chichi, but you have your temper.”

“What does that even mean?”

“I mean, when you do get mad, it is scary. You say a lot of mean words too, way too often sometimes.”

“I-I do not!”

“Yeah, you do.”

You got up from your seat, glaring at Goku, but he wasn’t even looking at you until you went over to his side and poked his chest hard, making him yelp.

“You know, maybe you Saiyans just have a natural talent to piss women off!” You poked Goku’s chest several times, making him groan every time. As if you were actually hurting him. “Even Bulma has to go through this with Vegeta!”

“Ow, stop doing that!” Goku complained, swatting your hand away.

“Do I make you angry, too?” Broly asked in a very quiet voice, standing right behind you. You turned to him, feeling a little guilty.

“No, you don’t make me angry, Broly. What I said just applies to Goku and Vegeta.” You glared playfully at Goku, who just pouted in return. 

“But I am gone for a long time too…”

“Well, yeah, but that doesn’t bother me.”

“Because you’re not married.” Goku added, still pouting. “If you were married to her, it would bother her.”

“Well, obviously. I think I would want my husband to spend time with me.” You glanced at Broly with a smile to let him know that you had never been mad at him; he was still looking confused about the conversation. “Not that you have to worry about that! We aren’t even dating, so…”

“What’s ‘dating’?”

“Um…” This conversation was taking a turn you weren’t expecting, so you tried to find the right words to explain that to an alien who probably had no idea about intimacy. “It’s when two people do things together exclusively, like kissing and… other kinds of stuff…”

“Other kinds of stuff?”

You were starting to feel a little awkward. Even Goku was looking at you like he was expecting you to explain further, as if he didn’t know. Well maybe he didn’t, he went straight to the marriage part of a relationship without actually dating. 

Normally, if Goku wasn’t there, this would be the part where you’d kiss Broly. It wouldn’t be taking advantage of him or anything if you were just showing him what kissing is, right? But Goku was right there, which made things a little uncomfortable. 

But maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Turning to look at Goku briefly, you smiled mischievously. He looked confused, but it made things interesting to have an audience. You only had to think about it for a second before you decided that you didn’t mind at all. 

“Broly, do you know what kissing is?” You asked him, taking a step closer. You had to practically strain your neck to look at him. 

“Pressing lips together?” He replied, looking at you with curiosity.

“Yeah, have you ever done it?” Broly shook his head in response, and you grinned wickedly. “I’ll show you then.”

You coaxed him to lower his head down a little with your index finger, and he did as you indicated. Putting your hands on his shoulders, you got on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his softly. You wanted to keep this first kiss as chaste as possible, so that was all it was, lips pressed together, keeping it like that for a few seconds before you pulled away. 

Broly looked taken aback, blinking repeatedly, and it made you smile, your chest full with fondness. You wish you could see Goku’s face to check his reaction, but you didn’t dare break the moment you were sharing with Broly. It’s not like he was saying anything anyway.

“How was that?”

“…Soft.” Broly replied, staring directly at your lips. 

“Do you want me to show you what other kinds of kisses there are?” Your smile grew even wider. 

“There are more?”

You nodded in response, leaning up again and pressing your lips to his once more. You darted out your tongue this time, pressing it softly across his lips to coax him to open them up. When he did, you slid your tongue inside, gently roaming his mouth. Broly was obviously clueless about what to do, but he started mimicking the moves of your tongue, and surprising you when he put his hands on your shoulders, keeping you close.

You broke off the kiss first, happy to realize that he was a quick learner. 

“Did you like that?”

“Yes…”

You trailed your hands from his shoulders down his chest slowly, feeling his muscles underneath his tight battle suit. His eyes were on you, your face, then your hands, sliding down to his abdomen. 

“When I said ‘other kinds of stuff’,” You explained, keeping your hands still when you reached the pelt around his waist. “I meant kisses in other parts of the body.”

“Other parts…?”

“Yes. Do you want me to show you?” You leaned in a little to whisper your next words. “If you don’t like what I’m doing, you can tell me to stop and I will.”

Broly was at a loss of words, fleeting his eyes between you, and the spectator behind you, who surprisingly hasn’t said a word yet. 

“Goku is fine with this,” You reassured him, turning your head to look at the man, still lying on your couch. Goku looked confused, alarmed and intrigued all at once, and it only entertained you more. “Aren’t you, Goku?”

To your amusement, his brows furrowed deep, and his mouth hung open as he struggled to find the right words to say. 

“I dunno what you mean…” He finally said, sitting up. 

“Well, maybe this would be a good lesson for you too.” You replied wickedly. 

You saw Goku swallow, but he remained quiet. When you turned to Broly, he looked even more confused after witnessing your small interaction. Keeping your hands on his abdomen, you got on your tiptoes to whisper your next words, reassuring him once again about your intentions (which aren’t pure at all, but you don’t want to push him into doing this if he wasn’t comfortable).

“I want to show you how good this can be, but we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”

Broly only thinks about it for a few seconds, until he finally nods. 

“I want to know what you mean.”

Smiling widely, you plant a quick kiss on his lips, before focusing your attention on his lower body. The pelt around his waist is a sensitive topic, so you won’t try to remove it. His pants can go, however. 

Going immediately for a blowjob might be overwhelming, so you carefully skim one hand over his clothed crotch. Even through the fabric, you could tell how well endowed he was, which wasn’t a surprise at all; of course someone who had such a body would have a dick commensurable to its owner. Broly kept his eyes on you, still confused, until you watched him close his eyes, reacting to your touch as a small sigh left his lips. 

Completely pleased with yourself, you grinned. Sneaking your hand inside his pants was a challenge, but you managed to pull them down enough to free his already hard cock. You couldn’t help but stare; you knew he was big, but this seems like a challenge in itself for you. When you wrapped your hand around it, your fingers didn’t even touch. It was going to be an incredibly tight fit if he was ever going to slide his length inside your body. You weren’t even sure that was going to happen yet; Broly was completely charming and you didn’t want to hurt his feelings and your relationship by pushing him into this so soon. 

But then again, most people did not have their first sexual contact with a spectator.

Moving your hand over his dick slowly and gently as Broly let out small noises that gave away his enjoyment, you took a peek at Goku, who was still sitting by the couch, awfully quiet. You tried to keep in your chuckle when you saw he was staring at you with wide eyes, obviously perplexed at your actions. His eyes locked with yours and you winked, making him flush instantly. 

You had never felt so powerful, it was weirdly arousing. 

Sliding your free hand up Broly’s neck and over his cheek, he opened his eyes slightly to watch you with hazy eyes. You stroked his cheek with your thumb, keeping up your ministrations on his length. You reassured him wordlessly with your smile before sinking to your knees in front of him. 

He only looked a little surprised about what you were doing, but he was unable to focus due to your hand still stroking him. You kept your eyes on his face, gauging his reaction as a musky scent filled your senses; he just came back from training, but you didn’t mind it. In any case, it just egged you on. When you pressed the first kiss on the tip, his cheeks glowed red at the sight. You smiled cheekily, kissing up and down his dick, never breaking eye contact. 

You knew Broly must have been obviously confused by the new sensation, so you tried to maintain eye contact as much as possible as you dragged your lips over the warm skin. Once you wrapped your lips around the head, a sharp gasp escaped his lips. He hunched down when you swirled your tongue around, grunting low when you slid your lips down his cock. Your hand worked what you couldn’t fit as you sucked softly on the head, and his hips soon started jerking against your hand and mouth. 

For a second you hoped that he wouldn’t just start thrusting, you weren’t sure you would survive that, with his impressive size and the fact that he’s a Saiyan. A Saiyan whose first time is with you, nonetheless. At least Goku sitting behind you was reassuring. You wished you could see what he was doing, hopefully he was enjoying the little show.

Your gaze never left his as you moved your head back and forth, meeting your hand in the middle. Broly could not keep quiet, the groans and grunts he was letting out turned you on just as much as having his cock in your mouth. You just never heard him make noises like those. Your name was also slipping from his lips, and you looked up at him with adoration just as his dick started twitching. 

His hips bucked involuntarily into your mouth, his cock sliding deeper, and you couldn’t help but gag a little, not expecting it at all. You did not expect the hand on your head either, fingers tangling in your hair as he came abruptly with a loud growl. The tip was grazing your throat, and you had no choice but to swallow, your hands holding tightly onto his hips until the last drop of cum left his dick. 

His orgasm had taken you off guard, and when he slowly pulled out, you couldn’t help but cough. You should advise him to warn you next time. 

“I-I’m sorry…” Broly’s hoarse voice caught your attention.

He was looking at you with regret in his eyes, and you softened your gaze on him.

“It’s okay…” You smiled at him, running a hand up and down his thigh. 

You sat back on the floor as you both tried to catch your breath; Broly seemed like the one who was the most out of it, eyes closed and chest heaving, which you found endearing. 

But you hadn’t forgotten about the voyeur in the room. 

Turning around with lust clouding your gaze, you were thrilled when you found the same look in Goku’s eyes, albeit with more confusion and surprise in them. But your eyes immediately settled on the hand he had over his crotch. Your actions had affected him as well, just like you hoped. 

With a mischievous smile, you crawled all the way to the couch, locking eyes with Goku as you settled in between his legs. You were glad he wasn’t rejecting you so far; even through the perplexed look on his face, he stared at you with wide eyes and a vibrant blush on his cheeks. 

When you put your hands on his knees, he flinched. You didn’t want to push him into anything, so you tested the waters, slowly dragging your hands up his thighs, feeling the fabric of his pants. The hand on his crotch didn’t move until you reached for it, gently putting it away, immediately noticing the bulge through his clothes. You really tried not to break eye contact, but you were more than just curious then. You wordlessly asked for permission to open his sash, and when Goku only gaped at you, you went for it.

“You want some too, Goku?” You purred with a dark smile, hooking your fingers on his pants to tug them down, anxious to see him in all his glory. 

Goku’s flustered face did not put you off, quite the contrary; it only served to egg you on even more, excited to see what kind of other expressions you could make him do. 

It was surprising he hadn’t done anything to stop you at all, and while he was obviously embarrassed, his eyes had a curious glint, eager to see what you were about to do. You didn’t expect Goku to be like this, his easy going and sometimes even clueless demeanor made him seem like a child even though he was already a grandfather. He couldn’t be ignorant about intimacy. He was a good actor, that’s the conclusion you came up with. 

Not wanting to delay things any further, you tug down his pants along with his underwear. His erection bounced free, and you eyed it hungrily. Goku may not have been as big as Broly, but his size was still impressive, thick and long enough to make your mouth water. You wrapped your fingers around it, slowly stroking up and down, and Goku let out a soft grunt, eyes falling shut as you kept moving your hand. 

You quickly guided his length towards your mouth, wrapping your lips around the head and sucking softly. Swirling your tongue around, and moving your hand over the rest of his cock, Goku kept making noises with each of your moves, not as ashamed anymore. So much better like that, because you hadn’t forgotten about the shy Saiyan whom you’d pleasured just minutes ago. 

Popping off Goku’s dick, you locked eyes with him, reassuring him with a hand on his cheek, before turning towards the other man. 

Broly was still flushed on his cheeks, mouth hanging open and brows furrowed in curiosity. He had already tucked himself back in his pants, to your disappointment, but no matter, you could still take them off later on. With a smize, you beckoned him with a finger to make him kneel down in front of you, which he did eagerly, with hands resting on his knees. He reminded you then of an obedient but very enthusiastic dog. It was an inevitable comparison; he was even looking at you with a wide-eyed gaze. 

“You’re okay with this, Broly?” You asked him with a hand on top of his to comfort him, just in case. 

“Yes…” He still seemed confused, but his eyes gave away his intrigue, as he eyed you up and down, before averting them towards Goku. 

You didn’t catch any kind of hesitance in him, so you moved along with what you had in mind. Pulling down your pants, you kicked them off somewhere on the floor. Your eyes were on Broly, watching his every reaction as you proceeded to slowly take off your panties. Your attention was on him, cautious since he’s never done anything sexual before; but you could feel Goku’s eyes on you as you got undressed. 

The cool air hit your pussy, and you realized you were wetter than you expected. Sitting on the floor and spreading your legs, you ran your fingers over your entrance, showing Broly how to touch you as you presented yourself to him. 

“This is something that people do intimately too.” You explained in a breathy voice. You were idly stroking your folds, but it was exciting to have such a cute audience. When you pressed your fingers to your clit, your breath hitched. “Do you wanna try?”

Broly was frowning in deep concentration, and he couldn’t have been cuter if he tried. He nodded eagerly, with still a tint of pink on his cheeks as he got closer. You turned around, getting on all fours, letting him still have access to you while you gave Goku some attention as well. 

Looking at Broly over your shoulder, you saw him stare at your entrance with intensity as he ran his hand over it, making you flinch. He was treating you with tenderness, aware of how fragile you were in comparison to him. He mimicked your previous actions, stroking you with his fingers, making you moan as he pressed them against your clit. 

Humming contently, knowing Broly was a fast learner, you turned to Goku fully. He leered at you, confusion no longer in his gaze as you inched a little closer. The grin he showed you made your insides stir with desire. He was enjoying this just as much as you were. 

“Where were we?” You asked him with a playful smile. 

“Sucking my cock?”

You couldn’t help your eyes opening wide at such words leaving his lips. You didn’t expect that kind of talk from Goku of all people. 

“I knew you weren’t as innocent as you pretended to be.” You grinned.

Goku chortled, his usual laughter sounding darker than normal, given the current situation. 

Wrapping your hand around his length, you dragged your tongue all the way up the underside before lapping at his head. Goku groanedgazing at you with dark eyes as you flattened your tongue on the slit. 

Taking him fully inside your mouth, you moaned as you felt Broly rub your clit insistently, making your legs twitch. It was a difficult task, pleasuring Goku while you were being touched, Broly’s callous fingers making you feel really good, despite their inexperience. But if anything, he was eager to please you, and curious about your body, his other hand fondling your behind, squeezing your ass as he ran his fingers up and down your folds. 

You weren’t ready for the sensation of something wet and warm against your clit, and you jumped, eyes wide open as you popped off Goku’s cock to gasp. Broly had licked you, without any incentive, and you were embarrassed by the sudden touch, but thrilled that he had done that all by himself. Well, you did say people kissed each other in intimacy.

You didn’t have a chance to compliment him for that action before Goku pushed your head down onto his dick again, making you swallow him whole. 

That was unexpected too. 

Your toes curled, fire rapidly growing in your belly, so turned on by the boldness in both of your partners. You moaned gladly around Goku’s cock, focusing on pressing your tongue on the underside as you slowly bobbed your head up and down. He’d began to carefully thrust into your mouth, ever so slightly hitting the back of your throat as he groaned low and deep.

Was this something he did with Chichi? You couldn’t believe how abrasive Goku was; he wasn’t fucking your mouth, but he wasn’t really letting you pull your head back either, his hips jerking up to seek more of you as he threaded his fingers in your hair. This was a side of him you never thought about, but you weren’t complaining at all, feeling so wet, your slick dripped down your legs. 

Broly was taking care of that, and he was anything if not earnest, running his tongue over your folds and collecting your wetness in his tongue, tasting you. You regret not being in a position to see his face, but you hope this was something he’d want to try again once you’re alone. He was obviously guiding his moves by your reactions; every time his tongue grazed your clit, your legs quivered, and you moaned around Goku’s dick. But he didn’t solely focus his attention there, and he wasn’t shy about licking you all over.

The heat in your abdomen grew tighter as Broly keenly ate you out, and the sounds coming from Goku’s lips spurred you on and made you want to suck him off more. You moved your head up and down faster, gliding your lips over the hot skin of his cock, the tip stroking your throat over and over. He grunted, tugging at your hair, thrusting up into your mouth with urgency. 

Goku came with a growl, spilling cum down your throat as he kept your head pressed down, forcing you to swallow. You inevitably choked as he rode out his orgasm, shallowly thrusting into you a few times before letting go of you. 

You slid his cock out of your mouth with a wet pop, gasping for air and resting your head on his thigh. It was so hard to focus on anything because Broly still had his mouth on you, and your throat ached from the strain of two consecutive blowjobs, but fuck if you weren’t so excited to be with both of them. You hadn’t even come yet. 

Your gasps and mewls made Broly pull back, and you groaned, exhausted but frustrated that he stopped. 

“Are you okay?” Broly asked, obviously concerned. Bless his heart. 

You turned your head to offer him a tired smile, comforted by Goku’s hand on your head as he petted you. 

“She likes what we’re doing, don’t ya?” Goku asked, teasingly pinching your ear, and you shivered in response. 

“Yeah…” You cleared your throat, embarrassed to notice how weak you sounded. “I’m ok, more than ok…”

Admittedly, you were a bit exhausted, your legs trembling from kneeling down so much, but at least you had a carpet that soothed the burn on your knees. 

You yelped in surprise as Goku effortlessly picked you up, settling you on his lap with your back pressed to his chest. You flushed, a little shy, when he opened up your legs with his hands on your thighs, showing off your wet entrance to Broly, who was looking at the both of you with amazement in his eyes. 

You dragged out a loud moan when Goku’s fingers found your clit, rubbing it harshly. 

“She likes it when you touch her here.” Goku explained, keeping up with his moves, and making the fire in your abdomen grow swiftly once again. 

You couldn’t believe Goku was even doing these things, but you liked it. A lot. 

When his fingers left you, you sighed, annoyed that he toyed with you like that just because. You glared at him from the side, but he only snickered, squeezing your thigh. Biting your lip, you met Broly’s eyes, urging him to keep doing what he was doing before. 

“Broly, please…”

He nodded at once, inching closer until he was face to face with your pussy. His ignorance made him less shy about the whole situation, and you wondered momentarily if you were pushing him too far. After all, this is a threesome, and you’re not sure if most people would prefer the first time to be with two people at once. But you were the focus, and that just made you more greedy for their attention.

Broly’s lips found your clit once more, suckling softly on your skin. You moaned, legs twitching in response as you propped your feet on his shoulders to steady yourself. He kept his eyes on you, and you noticed that dark gleam in them. Pure unfiltered lust, even when he probably didn’t know what that was. This was a side that only you were witnessing. You and Goku alone. 

Goku sneaked his hands underneath your shirt, pushing it up along with your bra to massage your breasts. You whimpered when he pinched your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He kissed and bit your neck, adding fuel to the flames inside you. 

Your moans got louder as you got closer to the edge, hips moving on their own accord against Broly’s face, seeking more of him, as Goku kept roughly fondling your breasts. You were so close, you’ve been so aroused for what seemed like hours, and you wanted to come, with both of them pressed close to you. 

Your body trembled in delight when you came, whimpering and gasping as your hips stuttered and your vision turned white. Broly didn’t let up, his tongue moving along your folds and your clit, helping you ride out your peak. Goku peppered kisses on your shoulder, hands soothing your sides as you slowly came down from your high. 

“Wa-Wait, Broly…” You mumbled, as he kept his mouth on you, despite the fact that you came. Your body shivered, overstimulated, and you softly tugged at his hair. “It’s too much…”

Looking up at you with curiosity, he pulled back. Half his face was covered with your slick, and his cheeks were flushed. How can he look so adorable yet insanely hot?

“Did I hurt you?”

“No, it’s just… I need a little break…”

He nodded, running his tongue over his lips with a smile. 

“You taste good.”

“Thanks…” You blushed, averting your eyes to the side. 

Goku’s playful eyes caught yours, and he chortled at your reaction. You slapped his arm, not nearly strong enough to hurt him (not that you even could), but he whined anyway. 

You were caught off guard when Goku’s hand found the skin in between your legs again, making you jolt. And you yelped, even more perplexed, when his fingers slid further down and pressed against your rear entrance. 

“Broly, you have to get her ready here too.” Goku said, voice low. 

“Get her ready?” He frowned, puzzled. 

Goku toyed with the skin, pressing the tip of his finger until it slid inside you. You gasped, startled that it had glided in so easily, even when his fingers were wet with your release. He moved it tenderly in and out, and you felt embarrassed beyond repair with how intensely Broly was staring. 

You didn’t have this in mind before, but you weren’t opposed to the idea, so you remained quiet. Or as quiet as you could, given that you had a finger up your ass. 

Once you were loose enough, Goku eased another finger in. The first one wasn’t uncomfortable, but having two digits inside made you feel the stretch, so you whined, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“You’re hurting her.” Broly said, putting a firm hand over Goku’s. 

You looked at him, heart fluttering in your chest when you saw concern written all over his face. 

Before Goku could speak, you reached for both of their hands. 

“It’s ok, it feels weird at first, but it gets better.” You reassured him, as Goku slid his hand out. He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, and you smiled, happy with the small display of affection, before locking eyes with Broly. “Do you wanna get me ready? You just have to do what Goku was doing.”

Broly nodded, hands reaching for you, as you instructed him softly. 

“You have to wet your fingers, or it’ll hurt for real. And do it one at a time, until you have four fingers inside.”

Four fingers would be necessary for either of them anyway. 

Glancing at your face before focusing on the private parts of your body, Broly wetted his finger with the slickness of your folds before gliding one finger easily inside. It was only seconds later until he added a second, and you felt the stretch again. His fingers were surely thicker.

As you got used to the sensation, Goku wiped his fingers on your shirt before settling on your entrance again. He tenderly stroked your clit, making you gasp, still sensitive from your orgasm. 

It was difficult to stay still with both of their hands on you, your hips bucking into the sensation ever so slightly. Goku’s renewed hard-on poking your lower back was incredibly distracting, too. You never imagined you’d ever be in this position, you wondered if you should even be ashamed you swayed someone as innocent as Broly like this. You were already a bit embarrassed of your current position, whimpering quietly as Broly slid in another finger, and Goku rubbed your clit steadily before gliding in two fingers inside you. 

It didn’t take long until Broly had four fingers in, and while it was still really awkward, you couldn’t wait anymore. 

“That’s enough, Broly.” You whispered sweetly, patting his head. 

He looked at you with hazy eyes, leaning into your touch as he slid out his fingers. Goku withdrew his hand at the same time, planting a kiss on your neck as you felt him shift behind you. 

You gasped in surprise when Goku stood up, holding you in his arms.

“Come on, Broly, let’s move over to the carpet.” Goku instructed him cheerily as if it was his own house. 

He laid you down on the carpet, kneeling beside you and tugging at your shirt to take it off. He threw it over his shoulder as you got rid of your bra, finally being completely bare in front of them. You blushed then, inhibited that you were naked while both Broly and Goku still had their clothes on. 

Broly sat down next to you, looking at you softly and curiously, roaming your naked body with his eyes. You noticed immediately his erection straining his pants; it was hard not to when his suit was so tight, and he had probably been like this for a while. Through all the lust and the haze you were currently in, you wanted to still be considerate of him, to reassure him.

“There’s some other things left for us to do.” Taking his hand into yours, you stared into his eyes. “If you’re not comfortable, let us know.”

“This is gonna be fun, Broly.” Goku added with a grin. “You’re gonna like it!”

You rolled your eyes at Goku’s tone but couldn’t contain your own grin when Broly smiled in return. Before you could even reach for the pelt around his waist, Broly got rid of it himself, untying it and adjusting it on the floor for you, pulling gently at your hand to help you lie down. 

Your heart skipped several beats as you watched him treat you so delicately, sharing something so important to him like his pelt with you. You wanted to keep him forever. 

“You should be the one lying down, Broly.” Goku interrupted your thoughts, before you could get too comfortable. 

With an eyebrow raised, you let Goku take the lead, moving to the side as Broly did as he was told, still confused. Goku removed his clothes in record time, making you giggle with his eagerness as he guided you to straddle Broly’s hips. His erection graced your inner thigh, and the twitch in his eyebrows didn’t go unnoticed; Broly kept his gaze fixated on you, eyes clouded with affection and something you recognized as lust. You soothed him with a hand on his cheek, caressing him softly, letting him know you cared. 

When Goku leaned over and captured Broly’s lips with his own, you couldn’t contain your gasp. Unexpected yet sweet and brief, Goku turned to you with a smile once he pulled away, kissing you swiftly as well. Surprise stayed on your features even as he positioned himself behind you, with hands on your waist, rubbing your skin. 

Prompting your hands on Broly’s chest, you rocked your hips over his erection, his cock sliding between your folds, getting coated in your slick. You hummed softly, thrilled when you saw the vein in Broly’s neck pop up. Goku’s hands halted your moves, guiding your hips until Broly’s cock was grazing your pussy, and then helping you sink into him. 

You shakily moaned, delighted and in pain due to his size. He wasn’t even fully inside you yet, but the stretch was already making you tremble; no matter how many kisses and caresses Goku was giving you to comfort you, you were concerned he wasn’t actually going to fit. Broly groaned underneath you, head thrown back as his hands on your thighs gripped you firmly. 

“Doing okay?” Goku asked with a kiss to your jaw.

“Yeah…” 

He hummed in response, wasting no time to press three fingers to your rear entrance. It wasn’t uncomfortable since you had been prepped, but you were a little nervous with having both of them at the same time. 

Broly’s hands sliding up and down your thighs made you focus your gaze on him, his eyes still held so much affection for you that it made your heart skip several beats.

“You’re beautiful.” He whispered with flushed cheeks, and you couldn’t help but smile.

Your trust in these two men was stronger than your own nerves. You knew well that they wouldn’t hurt you under any circumstances, and would always listen to your pleas.

When Goku pressed the head of his cock to your ass, you closed your eyes, breathing in deeply once he started pushing in. He wasn’t as large as Broly, but his dick was not small by any means. Inhaling and exhaling steadily, you tried to focus on anything else except the strain; intimidated you might be torn in half by both of these men, yet at the same time, it was exhilarating to have them both inside you. 

Once Goku’s cock was fully sheathed inside your ass, you couldn’t stop trembling. Your muscles called for a little break, but there was no way you were going to tell either of your lovers to stop. 

“Are you okay?” Broly’s deep yet quiet voice asked. 

“I just need a minute…” You muttered. 

When you opened your eyes, you noticed the strain on Broly’s face and it nearly made you panic; you didn’t want him to lose control then. His face was red, muscles in his jaw and neck popping. As if he was doing everything in his power to stay calm. 

“She feels amazing, right?” Goku’s calm voice came out near your ear, making you shiver. “You don’t wanna hurt her, Broly. She’s doing this for us and she trusts us.”

Goku’s hands held you firmly by the waist, and affection bloomed inside you. 

Broly face relaxed soon enough as he steadied his breathing, his digits rubbing your thighs in a soothing manner. You let out a loud sigh, relieved that Goku seemed to know Broly just as much as you did. You caressed Broly’s cheek, humming when he leaned into your touch. 

“You can move now.” 

With a firm grip on your waist, Goku pressed another kiss to your cheek as he started moving, gently sliding his cock in and out of your asshole. You whimpered quietly, barely moving your hips but enough to feel Broly’s cock throbbing against your walls. 

Broly probably didn’t know exactly what to do, but his eyes were hooded, gazing at you with stars in them the more you moved over his length. His body reacted naturally after a few moments, hips jerking up into you, his dick pushing inside you just at the same time Goku’s cock did. The sensation of having both of them rubbing against you, pressing into every sensitive spot made you see sparkles dance behind your lids, and you let out a long loud moan. 

“You like that?” Broly asked, with a hint of insecurity in his voice. 

“Yes.” You replied immediately, nodding your head to reassure him he wasn’t hurting you. “Keep going.”

Broly hummed in response, holding your hips firmly as he started to move his hips. His thrusts were gentle, and so were Goku’s, but your previous orgasm had left you sensitive, and the size of their members was enhancing every sensation. Their moves took a minute to match, Goku sliding in when Broly glided out. Heat bloomed quickly in your abdomen, making you moan louder each time. 

Goku’s hands slid up towards your chest, groping your breasts and squeezing them rather roughly as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, snapping his hips against your ass. You were glad both of them were firmly holding you, Broly digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips and making it hurt a bit, but you didn’t mind; you were afraid you might slip away from their touch if they didn’t hold onto you tight enough. 

“You feel so good…” Goku panted against your ear, tweaking your nipples, earning a sharp mewl from you.

You were so full; no matter that you had gotten used to them, the sensation of being so thoroughly filled made the skin between your legs throb and the heat in your abdomen expand. Pleasure traveled through your veins, getting you closer and closer to the edge of what you knew was going to be a powerful orgasm. 

Broly was the one who picked up the pace first, and you could tell by the look in his eyes, soft yet drunk with lust, that he had never felt anything similar. Your warm walls contracted around him in response, and the guttural sound that rumbled from his chest turned you on even more, arousal dripping from your hole down his cock and thighs. 

Goku grunted lowly, nibbling at your neck, as he matched Broly’s rhythm. As he gripped your waist, you briefly pondered on the thought of how unbelievably hot Goku was; he was your friend and you couldn’t believe the sounds that left his lips, and that his hard cock was eagerly slamming into your ass. 

You couldn’t focus on much more once both Broly and Goku’s thrusts turned uneven. You were quickly reduced to a moaning mess, mewls and breathy gasps spilling out as their hips snapped against you. Broly’s fingers were digging sharply into the skin of your thighs to the point of being painful, but it only added to your pleasure. As your mind slipped into a haze, you couldn’t decipher where any of them ended and you began. 

Goku’s callous fingers stroking your clit was the final straw you needed to be pushed over the edge. You shuddered uncontrollably as your orgasm, stronger than any other you had before, washed over you. Stars danced behind your lids as any thought you might have had left your mind, a stuttered moan spilling from your lips. 

Their unrelenting thrusts prolonged your state, and your body couldn’t stop shaking. The strain of every single muscle of your body proved to be too much; if they weren’t holding you so steadily, you would have collapsed already. 

Your brain was blank, only registering the pleasure in your body, but tiredness was soon overtaking every sensation. You were afraid you might faint. 

Broly’s sharp growl made you tremble before he spilled his load inside your warm pussy. Your mouth hung open, feeling completely filled to the brim as he kept sliding his cock in and out, as if making sure not one drop went to waste. 

Triggered by Broly’s orgasm, Goku groaned in your ear, ramming into your ass before he bit down hard on your neck. A gasp left your lips when you felt his cum spilling inside you. 

It was a strange, completely new yet not unpleasant sensation to have two Saiyans come inside you. As Goku kept pumping his cock inside you, riding out his orgasm, you were already considering doing this again.

The soreness on your muscles after they have both pulled out was also new. Nothing similar to it, not even working out could prepare you for how immediately exhausted you felt afterwards. Collapsing on Broly’s chest, you panted, trying to catch your breath and stay awake to enjoy a little of the afterglow. 

“Are you okay?” Broly asked, surprisingly soothing hands patting your back. 

Oh, he was so adorable.

“I’m alright.” Your voice was squeaky, which wasn’t helping your attempt at trying to reassure Broly that you were in fact alright. 

Goku’s hands rubbed your thighs before you felt him move behind you. A cold, damp cloth smoothed over your skin moments later when you realized it was Goku who was cleaning you. 

“You’re not hurt?” He asked as his hands lightly pressed on your thighs and butt. Goku had always been a sweetheart, and it pleased you to no end to know he was still like that after sex. 

“I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

You knew your pussy and ass were going to be incredibly sore in the next few hours, but you could handle it; there was no need to make them worry. 

Rolling over onto the carpet on the floor, you watched Goku clean Broly with a towel as well, a sight that softened your heart. Broly seemed confused as to what was going on, but he didn’t question it, only keeping his gaze on Goku as he diligently cleansed his body.

“I didn’t think you were this considerate, Goku.” You mentioned when he brought water for the three of you. 

“Chichi taught me to do this because she’s always exhausted after we have sex.” He replied merrily.

You looked at him cautiously at the mention of his wife’s name. 

You weren’t going to delude yourself into thinking you had forgotten that he was married since the beginning (this whole affair came to be partly because Goku talked about his wife and their love life), but now that he had brought her up, you weren’t sure how to react. 

Chichi was an amazing wife, and as weariness began to settle, so did guilt. It was going to be awkward for you to even look her in the eye after this encounter. 

“She sometimes asks for massages too,” Goku said, looking at you carefully. “Do you want them?”

“No, it’s okay…”

“Then why do you look uncomfortable? Are you okay?”

Both Broly’s and Goku’s eyes focused on you, and heat raised to your face. 

“Just… Chichi is a great woman.” You said as you brought water to your lips. 

“Yeah!” Goku replied right away with a smile. “Can’t wait to see what she says when I tell her about this.”

You splurted on the glass that was touching your lips, drenching your face. 

“Why on earth would you ever tell her about this?!” You yelled, startling both men. “Are you insane?!”

“Why-Why wouldn’t I?” Goku asked, raising his hands up as if he was trying to protect himself from your words. A valid reaction considering all the thoughts that were racing through your head. 

“What the fuck do you mean ‘why would I’?! Do you wanna be killed?! Do you want her to kill me?!” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“What am I-” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the question, trying to even your breath instead. 

Broly was looking at the both of you as if he was witnessing a tennis match, confused but completely entertained by the exchange. 

“Why shouldn’t I tell her?” Goku asked, bemused. 

“Because you did something that is not cool, Goku! We did something that is not cool!”

“What?”

“You cheated on her!” You screamed again, embarrassed. “You slept with another woman!”

“Oh!” Goku seemed to finally understand your point, and he pondered on your words before speaking again, in a surprisingly cheerful tone: “That’s no big deal.”

“What?” You asked through gritted teeth, exasperated. 

“It’s no big deal.”

“What in the-”

“We do it all the time!”

You gaped at Goku as if he had suddenly grown two heads, taking a moment to process the words he was actually saying. In the end you could only mutter one word, in the most confused tone:

“What?”

“We do it all the time.” He repeated, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m gonna need more than that.”

“We sleep with other people all the time.”

“What? I mean… What are you talking about?”

Goku looked at you, as if it was you who was spewing nonsense instead of the other way around. 

“What I just said! It’s no big deal, we do it every once in a while and we tell each other about it.” When he noticed your expression, he went on. “We don’t do it with just anyone either! A few times, we slept with Vegeta and Bulma, I think those are-”

“You did what?!”

“What?” Goku asked, startled.

“You slept with Vegeta? And Bulma?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh my God…” 

You held your head in your hands, in shock at the revelation Goku had just thrown at you. 

You were definitely not going to be looking anyone in the eye after this, not with this information you had on you. 

There were so many questions invading your mind, but in favor of letting your brain rest, you decided to push him for answers no further. 

“I should take a shower and get going.” Goku said, once he noticed you had settled down. “Will you be okay?”

“Yes, I’ll be fine.” You sighed, offering him a small smile.

“Good, I had fun!”

He kneeled down in front of you, planting a sweet peck on your lips before pulling away and briefly pressing his lips to Broly’s as well. 

You watched Goku merrily walking to the bathroom before turning to Broly. You were hoping he had fun, but after that last conversation with Goku, you knew he must have been confused as hell. 

“What was that?” Broly asked before you could open your mouth. 

“Um… I don’t know how to explain.” He only blinked as he stared at you, probably waiting for anything you might say, but you weren’t so sure where to start. “Goku and Chichi just… understand each other.”

Broly seemed to only dwell on your words for a few seconds before nodding. 

“I’ll explain everything better to you some other time.” You smiled, tugging at his arm to make him lie down next you on the carpet, which he easily complied. “Did you enjoy what we did?”

“Yes…” Broly smiled widely at you, making your heart swell in your chest. “Does this mean we are ‘dating’?”

“Do you want us to be?” You asked cautiously. You should explain what dating meant as well, since the vague definition you gave earlier was not enough. 

But you weren’t going to say no if Broly wanted to date you. 

“If we can keep doing what we did earlier, then yes.”

“So you only want sex?” You asked, a little amused. 

“No, I like the kisses too.”

Oh, you were melting for this gigantic man who spoke so softly.

“Okay, babe, we are dating then.” You grinned, your heart beating happily inside your ribcage.

“What about Goku? Is he dating us too?”

You were going to kill Goku for confusing Broly more than necessary after all that confession he made earlier. 

“No, he isn’t. He has his own wife.”

[ikigaisvt]

quiet love

in which your boyfriend vernon likes showing his love for you in a quiet way.

pairing: vernon x f!reader words count: 2k content: childhood bestfriends to lovers, fluff, domestic warnings: so soft but very corny, contains pretty common prompts imo, vernon's love language is not words of affirmation lol, implied that kids are mean to vernon, mention of driving, drinking, loss and exes, reader is sick at one point (the flu), a lot of food/eating talk, they are so healthy youre gonna throw up, soooo much physical affection they make me SICK (holding hands, kissing, playing with each other's hairs, hugging etc), babe/baby petnames note: omg im alive?!?!? hiii!! it's been so long since i posted a fic! this one is a birthday gift for the loml @vcrnons <3 happy birthday, u know it all already but don't forget i love u sm!!! i hope you enjoy this childhoodbff!vernon (it's ur thing) who's very very in love but very very shy to say it. hope anyone else who sees this fic enjoy too! don't forget to interact with this if u liked it, rbs are very very very appreciated! thank u<3 (also this was proofread by tired me so if there is any mistakes, ignore it pls thanks <3)

Vernon has always been a man of a few words; when you first met him in elementary school, he was the quiet boy and nothing could get him to speak apart from spinning tops and his favorite cartoons. Still, you decided to befriend that calm boy – at the time, people used to think you were only being nice but deep down you knew: you were making a friend for life.

Going through all of the different steps of childhood and teenage hood with Vernon by your side was an experience – you raised hell together, driving your parents crazy. But it was also having a best friend to experience each other’s every first times: first partners, first time driving, first time getting drunk but also first breakup, first bad haircut and first loss. You have seen each other through everything. No, you have watched over each other through everything; wherever you were, Vernon was standing two steps back, making sure you were always safe. And wherever he was, you were always standing two steps back, making sure he was always loved.

And that’s how you both fell in love. It was slow and secure; falling in love with Vernon was never complicated or painful. It was how things dropped into place and none of you ever denied it; at the time you knew you were meant to be – maybe you always did. And so, you let yourself fall into each other’s arms, a safe place, full of quiet love.

You were 24 years old when Vernon first wanted to tell you he loved you; yet, he didn’t have the courage to fess up. Having spent his whole life showing his love through actions, he had a hard time saying it out loud. After a nice date to the cinema and the restaurant, he drove you back home, small talk and look exchanged during the trip. As soon as he puts the car in park, he reaches out to hold your hand, his thumb drawing circles.

“Had a nice time tonight?” he asks.

“Of course I did,” you answer, a blush creeping on your cheeks, “You know I always do with you,” you add, reaching out to cup his cheek.

“You need to go, you have an early day tomorrow,” he tells you, kissing your palm.

“Yeah, I’m going,” you say as you reach down for your bag and open the door, “Let me know when you’re home, okay?”

“Of course,” he says as he holds your face between his hand, “You do the same,” he adds against your lips before kissing you softly.

“It’s literally two steps away, I’m already home,” you chuckle as you exit the car.

“Won’t leave until I get the text, babe,” he smiles as he leans over the center console to look at you.

You roll your eyes sarcastically at him but still, your lips go up into a smile as your cheeks reddens from the way he so apologetically loves and cares for you. This boy would do anything to make sure you see how much he adores you. So, you wave him goodbye and it’s only when you close your front door and his phone buzzes with an i’m home :) drive safe, text me xx that you hear him drive off.

The second time he almost confessed to loving you was when you were 25. You had just gotten over an awful flu that got you bed ridden for days, unable to go on with your schedule as you normally would. You were sleeping the sickness off for hours on end, only waking up when Vernon knocked on your door to check up on you. Honestly, he knew it was only the flu, but he was so scared for you; in his eyes, you always appeared as the strongest women on earth so seeing you so weak and tired pulled at his heartstrings. He thought about confessing his undying love as you were blowing your nose – maybe it will magically heal her, he thought one night. But deep down he knew you needed someone to help you out physically and so, he did. He had taken such good care of you; he kept your home clean, did the laundry and helped you out to the shower if needed. He had thought about doing the cooking but he knew his poor skills wouldn’t get you to eat at all. So, even if you couldn’t finish your plates, he had ordered your favorite meals all week, even if he didn’t really like some of those.

It's been a few days since you last had a fever, so even if you were still blowing your nose and coughing a little bit, you could still get out of bed and hang out with Vernon. You two decided to have an at-home date, ordering your favorite meals and watching the show you recently started together. Since you were less sick you could finally finish your plate and eat more than usual; even after finishing your food, your stomach was still grumbling.

“I’m still hungry,” you whisper to yourself, not thinking Vernon would hear you.

“Yeah?” he asks, still looking at the TV as he holds a spoon full of food in the air, “Want a bite?” he says as he looks at you.

“Is that okay?” you ask, not wanting to take away his favorite food. Even when you were sick, you saw how Vernon only ordered your favorite foods – he deserved to have every bite of his favorite dish.

“Of course it is!” he smiles at you, extending his spoon in front of you, “You like it?” he asks, waiting for your nods of approval.

You nod enthusiastically, giving him a thumbs up with a smile, “That’s so good!” you exclaim before Vernon reaches for your plate. You look at him, wondering what he is up to before you see him fill your empty plate with more than half of his meal, “No, no, no,” you say, trying to reach for it as Vernon puts it out of reach from you.

“You need to eat, babe,” he says as he puts the dish on your lap, “Go on,” he smiles, patting your head before turning his attention back to his almost finished meal and the tv.

You smile down, cheeks red from your boyfriend’s attention. You notice how he gave you the tastier part of his dish – meat, veggies and a lot of gravy with a good amount of rice – and he kept most of the rice and only a piece of meat for himself. You start to eat happily, re-adjusting your position on the sofa to be closer to him. It might have been a year and a half since you started dating with no I love you’s said, but you know this is how he shows he loves you. And that is enough for you – it will always be.

It's now been two years since you started dating Vernon; you’re 26 years old, living with your boyfriend, your two cats and waking up every day with the love of your life next to you. Life is beautiful and you could not ask for more. To celebrate your anniversary with Vernon, you planned a trip to your hometown - only a 1 hour-drive from home – so you can have your date where you first kissed: at the cinema. If someone told Vernon he would one day ignore a movie to give his attention to a human being, he would have laughed at their face. But here he is. Countless of movies and shows watched with you right there, next to him, and yet you always steal his gaze away from the screen. You are just so beautiful, he thinks to himself. And when he sees you, laughing at a stupid joke from a character, he smiles with you. Not because the joke is funny, no, but because he cannot watch you without his heart filling up and his feelings pouring out onto his lips. He knew since he woke up that day, on your 2 years anniversary, that he would say it. It had been on the tip of his tongue since the first time he saw you in elementary school, smiling at everyone and saving bugs, but he always held it back. He thought it would be too soon, too fast, too much – but how can love ever be those things? he realized recently. He had said I love you a thousand times already through his actions, he had said he loved you out loud to his friends, his family, his cats. He thought now was the time you should hear it. So, all day, his head was in the clouds, thinking how to bring this up, how to say I’m in love with you to his soulmate. It happens when you pull him into your apartment at 1 am, your anniversary already over. You both get rid of your shoes, the tiredness of the day finally falling on your shoulders, before you pull him into you for a hug. Your arms stay at his waist, his heart going thump, thump, thump against yours as his cheek rest on the crown of your head.

“Gonna let you go to sleep,” you mumble against his shirt before letting him go, “I’m gonna shower.”

“Hey- babe,” he says softly to get your attention, his hand wrapping around your wrist, “need to tell you something,” he tells you as you’re pulled back against his chest, hands on his front as one of his rest on your waist, the other one covering your cheek.

“Everything’s okay?” you ask, rubbing circle on the fabric of his shirt.

“Yeah, everything’s good,” he whispers, his eyes going down to look at your lips and up again, “You’re pretty,” he speaks under his breath, a blush making its way on your cheeks – and his.

“Thank you,” you smile as you reach for his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, “You’re not so bad yourself,” you whisper against his lips.

He holds onto your cheeks, your foreheads resting against each other, “I love you,” he murmurs so low you think you made it up but as you open your eyes and see tears in his own, you know this is nothing but real life.

“Oh,” you gasp softly, taken aback, “I love you too,” you say, smiling up at the love of your life.

“I know this was long overdue and I’m sorry it took me so long-“ he starts to babble, uneasiness bubbling in his chest before you cut him off with a kiss.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, playing with the hair at his nape, “To me, you’ve said it a thousand times,” you reassure him as he blushes, chuckling softly at how you always find the right words for him, “But a thousand more wouldn’t hurt,” you tease slightly, making him snort.

“I love you,” he repeats, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as yours find a resting place at his waist, rubbing his back over his shirt.

“Again,” you say with a smile in your voice before kissing his chest in an I love you too.

“I love you,” he says against your hair, his hands making its way under the straps of your dress.

“Again,” you ask him, never getting enough of these words flowing out of his lips.

“I love you,” he whispers against the shell of your ear, leaving a kiss behind, “so much.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing this,” you whisper, your hands meeting the end of his shirt, “I love you,” you say as you touch his bare back.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he says like a mantra, “I’d unlearn any other words so all you could hear is my love for you,” he whispers, his eyes meeting yours, before your lips collide – just like your worlds did so many years ago.

You’ve always found reassurance in this quiet love you and Vernon were giving each other – but maybe you liked your love being a little louder sometimes.

thank u for reading! hope you enjoyed hehe <3

[deswhomst]

If we have to classify the Blacks as good, morally grey, or bad, this is what it would look like:

Bellatrix: bad

Andromeda: good

Narcissa, Sirius, Regulus: morally grey

But I also feel like there are branches to being morally grey. Sometimes, a character who is morally grey leans towards being a good person more and other times, they are more bad (I do not mean to imply that morally grey characters have to be either good or bad but it’s not a 50/50 split, either).

From what I have seen, most people would say that the Black brothers are more bad—or, at least, Regulus is—and Narcissa is more good but I think it’s the opposite (some might argue Sirius is completely good but that’s not the case either, imo).

Sirius was on the right side of the war. He was in the Order of the Phoenix straight out of school. He accepted and helped his werewolf best friend. He definitely had his flaws, as in the prank and the bullying tendencies but it’s not enough to outweigh the good (especially when we consider how he was raised and that it’s not easy completely detaching from what you’ve seen all your life).

Regulus was a Death Eater and he willingly joined Voldemort. That rules out him being a good person in most people’s books, and that’s fair. Why I think he’s more good than bad, though, is that we genuinely have more proof of his goodness and only assumptions of him being an asshole. He drank the potion for Kreacher, he gave up his life when he realised what he had signed up for. He was 18 when he died, and he took the Mark at the age of 16. He talked about ruling over muggles and muggle-borns for years before that (had to be at most 13-14 when he started?) but never about hurting them. Many adults were wrongly influenced by Voldemort at that start, too, so it’s not surprising a kid who only had those influences went that route as well.

Now, Narcissa is loyal to her family. She is self-serving, too. She is not weak or defenseless but rather a genuinely strong woman who knows what she wants and ends up getting it. She is definitely not a coward, either. She literally lied to Voldemort’s face directly and then walked into the Battle of Hogwarts with her husband to look for their son, wandless. Narcissa did not care for Voldemort and his agenda at all but she made no complaints as long as she was in a powerful and comfortable position. She grew up as royalty and married into the Malfoys. She’s the only Black who made it out of both wars without losing her family (second family, at least). Narcissa is not nice or kind or sweet or innocent or weak or a coward. An interesting or good character doesn’t need to be any of those things. Some people portray her like such a loser who was forced into the life she was living when she’s literally a winner and did exactly what served her well. Make no mistake, if it meant her and her family’s good, Narcissa would let a thousand innocent people die.

This is not to say that she had an easy life with no issues!! Of course, there were huge problems that she went through herself and it’s okay to feel bad for her about those things but what I personally don’t like is painting her as a victim and watering down her entire character to make her a good person.

Age genuinely matters as well. Sirius was a reckless teenager but I believe if he had been given a chance to actually grow up, he would have matured out of the habits that made him bad. We can’t judge him by his behavior in the books as he had spent twelve years in Azkaban by that point. Regulus died when he was freshly out of school so he never got to grow up, either. Narcissa, however, was around forty years old by the second war so she had a lot of time (many war-free years in between) to change if she hated her life. She didn’t hate her life.

Again, this is not to say characters can’t simply be morally grey but rather to talk about the distinction between the Black brothers and Narcissa.

[plaidos]

hi plaidos! i was looking for some advice and i felt that given the subject matter, you were well positioned to do so.

a friend of mine (cissexual she/they) is going through a pretty tough break up with a trans woman who has evidently wronged her in a lot of ways. I’ll call the cis girl ‘S’ and the trans girl ‘R’. R has cheated on S, started a new relationship 8 days after dumping S, failed to tell S that R doubted the longevity of the relationship for 6 months before the breakup, (this included valentine’s day, their 2 month anniversary, and S’ birthday), and gave R’s friends unfairly negative portrayals of S.

This is all bad of course. However, S’ response to this has been somewhat troubling. When talking about all the ways R has wronged S, S said that R is engaging in ‘grooming behaviour’ for dating a 17y/o because R is 18 and the 17y/o ‘acts like a 15 year old’. S has also said that because R and the 17y/o have exchanged sexual images that R is engaging in possession of child pornography.

I don’t think she’s at risk of going full twerf, she continues to be friends with myself and other trans women in a mutually reciprocal and healthy manner, but I’m worried that this might be the beginning of a pattern of transmisogynistic accusations and appeals to transmisogynistic tropes and stereotypes. I’m aware of the catastrophic effects these accusations can have on transfems and i don’t want them to happen even to someone i don’t like or know very well. Furthermore, i would like to make S aware of the context that these kinds of accusations hold in transmisogyny. Regardless, i disagree with S’ notions of what constitutes morality in terms of dating and sex

As a trans woman and transfeminist, i don’t want to let this slide. but at the same time, i want to do so sensitively as to be a good friend to S in this very difficult time for her. Do you think i could wait for S’ understandably high emotions to subdue, in order to make this as easy a time for S as it can be, and then see her come to her senses as opposed to make accusations based on emotion? Or do you suggest something sooner and/or more direct?

Any advice is appreciated, thank you for reading and i hope you have a good day :)

(p.s.: you’re not the only person i’ve sent this ask to in search of advice so if you see this story elsewhere, that’s why)

i mean, if my partner was the type of cis woman to call a transfem a groomer for dating somebody literally a year younger than herself then i would fucking cheat on her too, are you kidding me?

if her ex were a legitimate threat or worry in any way then she wouldn’t be so mad about the break up, would she? to me, whether she realises it or not, this is a blatant grab at power over this girl. “she doesn’t want me? then she can’t have anybody” type shit.

nobody should be expected to like their ex unconditionally, especially if they were dishonest & cheated on. but cheating is just this random act of evil that springs feom nothing — it springs from an unhappy relationship. and based on what happens to trans women who wrong your cis friend, i would also be unhappy in that relationship 🤷‍♀️

imo it’s important to let your friend know that what she’s doing is transmisogynist pedojacketing and it is actually fundamentally no different to terf behaviour. Like, the most important thing is to stop these false accusations from spreading about another transfem. you say she’s treating all the other transfems you know well — that is, until you upset her. then i’m sure you’re gonna be next to be called a pedophile.

[arguablysomaya]

Nightwing's weird fem-coding

! LONG POST !

Finally got around to jotting down my thoughts on the weird way that Dick Grayson (Nightwing) often occupies female-coded roles without being a particularly feminine guy. This is entirely due to me procrastinating on my finals. Okay!

Dick has often been cited as the hero who plays into the "female gaze", and he takes up some key roles that are typically reserved for women characters.

A large portion of Dick's fem-coding is contingent on his being with his family, and when he's not with them, this fem-coding kinda drops away, such as when he's with his various teams or acting solo.

His most prominent (and imo, complex) femme-coded role is:

-> Eldest Daughter + Widow

Eldest daughter syndrome means " frequently feeling like you’re not doing enough, like you’re struggling to maintain a veneer of control, like the entire household relies on your diligence." It's born out of the unique way that first-born girls are expected to take on adult roles around the household before they've had an opportunity to fully experience childhood (an opportunity their younger siblings will have, in part due to this sacrifice). It creates a strong sense of independence and a desire to be a good role model, but also leads to undue pressure and perfectionism.

Dick acts as a central emotional pillar for those in his family. To the point that when he fakes his death, it breaks something fundamental in the family dynamic:

Not only is it repeatedly made clear that Bruce depends on Dick to act as a lifeline for his own mental struggles, but moreover, his siblings do as well. In a very literal sense, the maintenance of the batfamily rests on Dick's shoulders. Bruce is so rarely available for emotional support that these children turn to the next best thing, which, to be fair, is better than what Dick had growing up. He has to clean up so many breakdowns, it's honestly pretty staggering.

As the OG sidekick, Dick receives quite a bit of hero worship, particularly from younger heroes/sidekicks, who look toward him for guidance. As a naturally upbeat and welcoming person, Dick ends up in the position of bringing light to everyone, not just Bruce. For example, here's Cassandra:

This balancing effect is unique to Dick's skill set. However, this can (and does) backfire very easily. The same pragmatism Bruce engages in hurts extra bad when coming from Dick: like when Dick had to take Robin away from Tim. Not to mention just how intimidating Dick's legacy is, which can create resentment when his successors aren't able to play this role so easily. For example, Jason both before and after his death expressed insecurity that he felt he was constantly being compared to Dick, and falling short.

As the original character that people think of when they think "sidekick", DG Robin (and his successors) had the advantage of not losing prominence even as his contemporaries (Kid Flash, Aqualad, Wonder Girl, etc.) were de-prioritized in favor of independent teenaged heroes (like Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire). But that means Robin as a concept now has to deal with questions that weren't so prominent in the earlier decades, such as: "How do we justify a grown-ass man using a child (and in fact, children) as emotional crutches?"

It's icky to think about, but there's no denying that early Batman and Robin got side eyes for homosexual subtext. I mean, they literally call each other "partners". So while that "subtext" was, and remains, just audience speculation, given Dick is literally Bruce's adopted son, there is room, I believe, to call into question how healthy it is for Bruce's oldest kid to be taking on a nearly-parental role and be a core pillar of Bruce's emotional regulation.

Hot take here, but I think Dick's relationship with Bruce was/has been pretty emotionally incestuous for a long time.

-> Emotional incest

"Emotional incest[...] is a type of emotional abuse performed by a parent. In cases of emotional incest, parents rely on their children for significant emotional support, which is a reversal of roles. Emotional incest is more than just relying on your kids on occasion—rather, it is an extreme dependence on them." (There's a pretty good argument to be made that Bruce has been emotionally incestuous with all his Robins, especially Dick and DEFINITELY Tim, but y'know. Small steps.)

Emotional incest is a semi-common consequence of eldest daughter syndrome; the natural conclusion of deputizing a child to manage the other children combining with an inability to see the child as a child, still in need of emotional guidance, but more like an adult capable of shouldering the burdens of grown-ups dumping their traumas on them.

To be clear here, while emotional incest may not be incest in the most traditional, taboo sense, it is still abuse. It's putting a burden on a child they shouldn't have to carry, even for children that aren't dealing with such extreme burdens as "grown-ass man running around in a fursuit needs me to keep him from getting himself killed". It's a perversion of a healthy parent-child relationship, where the child is treated more like a partner than a child. In Dick's case, it further exacerbates the parentification he already experiences. This is made more explicit when Bruce "dies" and Dick is cast into a sort of "Widow" role.

Dick reluctantly dons the cowl in an attempt to bring order to his family members. He's also left to parent Damian, alone. He has to make the decision to take Robin from Tim, and try to deal with the fallout from that decision. He has to put a stop to Jason's fratricidal rampage. He's made into the de-facto head of the family.

And the thing about this is: Dick's not even bad at it. In comparison to Bruce's litany of disasters-in-parenting, Dick does a pretty bang-up job of managing his siblings, heading the Justice League, and being Batman. But the crucial point is that he does this at the expense of his own mental health, which is the crux of eldest daughter syndrome. There's no denying that at the time, Dick was most certainly the best choice for New Father Figure, but it was a choice he was pushed into, and a sacrifice he had to make. When this sense of responsibility to the point of self-sacrifice is pushed to its logical conclusion, it has the effect of making Dick a Martyr-type figure.

-> Protector/Mama Bear/Avenger

Dick has shown repeatedly that his hot button is his family. From Tony Zucco to allowing Blockbuster to be killed after the villain targeted Haley's Circus, going after Nightwing's family is a pretty good way to earn yourself an asskicking. Probably the most infamous example of this is when Dick thought the Joker had killed Tim, beating the clown to death to avenge both Tim and Jason.

And while this role isn't particularly feminine, I do think it's interesting that Dick protects his family members from each other with almost the same frequency that he protects them from outside threats. He's pretty notorious for wrangling Damian and Tim, foiling Jason's murder plans, and most importantly, beating the shit out of Bruce whenever he crosses a line, such as when Bruce asks Dick to conceal being alive from their family to join Spyral or when Bruce wanted to abandon the Bruce Wayne persona after the murder of Vesper Fairchild. Or of course, more recently after Bruce's latest MK-ULTRA shenanigans.

This basically puts Dick in the position of being the glue that holds the family together, at basically all times, but especially in times of conflict. This also means he's put in the dangerous position of bodily defending his younger siblings from Bruce's wrath or irresponsibility, a position made even more awkward given the whole emotional incest thing.

That's not to say that Dick's relationship with his family is 100% unhealthy. Dick and his family members (including Bruce!) feel legitimate affection and care for each other. There are times when the dynamics here are indeed healthy. And like most people with eldest daughter syndrome, the unhealthy nature of this dynamic is usually understated. Oldest sibling syndrome is often just an unavoidable consequence of how parenting works. So while I am of the opinion that this dynamic is often unhealthy, hot take: I'm fine with that.

Now, though I've just listed some tropes that he only falls into around family, Dick also falls into some fem-coding all the time, regardless of who he's with, and these have to do mostly with his sexuality.

-> Sexual Assault & Harassment

Yeah, so nobody is surprised that this is a factor. Look up any list of the top ten hottest/sexiest/most attractive male superheroes, I guarantee 9/10 times Nightwing is number 1. However, unlike his father, whose attractiveness is usually played as a part of the male wish-fulfillment fantasy, something people aspire to be, Dick's attractiveness more often makes him an object of desire- very similar to how most attractive female characters are perceived.

And as an object of desire, Dick Grayson is constantly having to deal with being objectified.

Now, Dick Grayson being an attractive character is not the problem. Dick Grayson being sexually assaulted isn't even the problem. the problem is that he keeps being harassed, assaulted, and raped in ways that are flagrantly nonconsensual, and yet it's not treated with the seriousness it deserves. In fact, it took a full decade for Devin Grayson to retract her previous statement and admit that yes, the rooftop scene with Catalina Flores was in fact rape, and it's never been acknowledged in-universe (though, comics have always been atrocious at calling out sexual abuse of all kinds, let alone that which targets men).

Hell, even when he in-universe calls it out, he's dismissed immediately and the story continues like nothing happened.

Like???

Dick's adult sexcapades (which were consensual and enthusiastic) have long contrasted with the numerous times he's been harassed; times in which he comes across as bored, exasperated, and even frustrated with his own attractiveness and the vulnerable position it often leaves him in.

This puts him in the rare (in comics) position of being a male character who consistently and near-exclusively has his sexual agency and boundaries violated by women - a position that authors uniformly refuse to examine despite writing him into it all the fucking time.

Other characters around him frequently make comments passing off this harassment and assault as a natural consequence of Dick's own attractiveness, making "jokes" that essentially amount to "I understand why someone would want to assault him". Which- UH?

There is also, of course, the unavoidable reality that as an acrobat and an aerialist, he receives a very specific type of sexual harassment

the nature of nightwing's fight style necessitates a type of tight-fitting suit that male heroes typically don't go for: an extremely slick suit with bare-minimum armour that again, makes him vulnerable in a way most male heroes aren't, but a style female heroes wear all the time, whether it makes sense for them or not. This of course then allows artists to draw attention to this fact by posing Nightwing in poses usually reserved for femme fatales:

And unlike the Hawkeye Initiative, these poses are (largely) unironic, and not played for jokes. Dick isn't arching his back or looking over his shoulder to poke fun at how female heroes are treated; he does so because the artist (clearly correctly) sincerely believed these poses would play into the unironic gaze of the audience, and also probably thought it was hot. It's the same line of thought artists use when posing femme fatales.

He's even been known to use his sexuality as a bargaining chip, much like more traditional Femme Fatales. In Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), he refers to sleeping with Harley Quinn after being kidnapped by her as one of "the things I do for Gotham", to which she responds "I'm taking that as a 'yes'." And that's uh- not how consent works.

And this particularly sucks because- HELLO? The opportunity to explore the very real and tragically underacknowledged phenomenon of sexual violence against men is literally invaluable, especially with such a prominent character. It's one thing to ignore that men face sexual violence, it's another, entirely more unforgivable thing to continuously and explicitly depict such scenarios and play them off as jokes or not as serious as they clearly are. But what did I expect from an industry that has never had a good track record on sexual violence anyway.

-> Queercoding?

There's also of course the fact that DC has been, as of late, dropping hints that Dick might be bisexual.

That on it's own doesn't mean anything, but when paired with the fact that DC has been angling toward giving Dick a similar playboy persona that Bruce has, just with men included, it's just very interesting.

(BTW: The likelihood DC actually commits to making Dick bi is, uh, not a lot, but if they're gonna stick with this weird closet stuff for a while, let's hope they do so in a way that doesn't make him sound like a cross between Donald Trump and Harry Styles next time? Please?)

Anyway, all of this is basically to say I am forever fascinated by the gender dynamics of Dick Grayson, likely due to the fact that I'm projecting all my eldest daughter traumas onto him, and that someone who's background is in Gender Studies needs to get on this shit if they haven't already. I just love this character sm.