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foxy-eva · 1 year ago

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Prom Night

Summary: After everyone shared their sad (or non-existent) prom stories, Penelope decided to host a BAU Prom Night, giving Spencer the perfect excuse to finally ask out Reader

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff, Smut

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) a bit of miscommunication, jealous Spencer, heavy kissing, fingering, handjob, protected penetrative sex

Author’s Note: This is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Office Party Challenge!

Word count: 2.8k

Masterlist

“And that’s how I ended up with a broken heart on prom night,” JJ concluded her story after a couple of other BAU members had shared their prom experiences in their lunch break.

“Aww, that’s so sad!” Penelope cooed.

“I didn’t even go to prom,” Spencer chimed in. “I mean, I was twelve, but still…”

Derek looked at you and asked, “What about you, pretty girl? Did anything exciting happen on your prom night?”

You took a moment to think about it and shook your head, “Don’t even get me started.”

“You know what!” Penelope suddenly exclaimed. “We should throw our very own prom night! This way we can make up for all those miserable experiences.”

“That sounds fun,” JJ agreed. “I would love to take Will to prom.”

“Yes, that’s perfect. Everyone has to bring a date!” Penelope locked eyes with Spencer and made herself very clear, “No exceptions. Not even for you, doctor.”

Spencer cleared his voice as a slight rosy shade spread over his cheeks. It made you smile to see him like this and you wondered if he already had someone to ask to go to prom with him. His eyes met yours for a moment and your heart immediately skipped a beat.

To everyone’s surprise Hotch agreed to have a BAU Prom Night and made sure that you could use one of the function rooms at Quantico. Over the next few days you helped Penelope figure out the details until the date of your big night was set.

Everything was going as planned except for one detail - you still didn’t have a date. You were sure that you were the only one at this point, even Spencer seemed to have found someone. At least that was what you assumed after you kept catching him and Derek mumbling about something (or someone) and stopping once you got close enough to eavesdrop.

Three days before the festivities began, you and Penelope were waiting for fresh coffee in the kitchen while talking about the perfect color arrangement for decorations. Spencer approached and noticed that the coffee wasn’t ready yet, so he joined into the conversation by sharing some facts about color theory.

“Hey, Y/N,” you turned your head to spot Anderson approaching. “I heard you don’t have a date for prom night yet.”

“You don’t?” Spencer exclaimed. “I thought you had a boyfriend.”

You flashed him a confused look and muttered, “What? No.”

“But you mentioned this guy a few weeks ago. I overheard you talking about a date with him,” Spencer stammered.

“I never heard from him again,” you clarified and turned to Anderson. “And no, I don’t have a prom date yet.”

The man you had never paid any attention to before smiled at you and said, “Well, now you do!”

Spencer looked shocked at Anderson’s words and stormed out of the room without saying anything. You had never seen him acting this way and watched as he disappeared in the empty conference room. You flashed Anderson an apologetic look before following Spencer to talk to him.

You found him sitting at the table, pretending to look through a file when you sat down beside him. “Spencer, what’s going on?”

“I thought you already had a date,” he mumbled without looking at you. “And now you’re going with Anderson.”

Slowly you got a hunch what all of this was about. It made your heart flutter to realize that he wanted to ask you out.

“I haven’t agreed to go with him, yet,” you told him.

He finally locked eyes with you and asked, “Do you want to go with him?”

“I don’t want to go alone. But the guy I actually want to go with hasn’t asked me yet.”

Spencer didn’t respond, instead his eyes found the file on the desk again. You couldn’t believe how oblivious he was and realized that you had to spell it out for him. “Spencer, I’m talking about you.”

“Wh..What?” It took a few seconds until he realized the meaning of your words. “Oh.”

“Are you gonna ask me out now or what?” You giggled.

“Yes! Yes. Uhm,” he cleared his voice and took a deep breath. “Do you want to go to prom with me?”

You smiled at him and nodded. “I would love to.”

A wide grin appeared on his face and you noticed a sparkle in his eyes you had never seen before. Spencer seemed genuinely happy.

“Should I uhm… pick you up at your place?” Spencer wondered.

“No, I’ll get ready here because I have to help with decorations. But you could pick me up right here and we’ll walk down to the function room together?”

“That sounds lovely.”

After you turned down Anderson’s invitation, you and the rest of the team had to get back to your job for the next few days. It was hard to focus on work as your mind kept drifting off to the fact that Spencer had finally asked you out. Anytime that thought crossed your mind, you felt your cheeks heating up and your heart began beating erratically inside your chest.

For the first time since you started working at the BAU, Spencer didn't look right away whenever your eyes met his. His glances lingered on you and it made you feel like you were the only person in the room with him.

When the big night finally arrived, you spent most of the day preparing the function room for the evening. About thirty minutes before everyone else would arrive, you hastily disappeared in the restroom to change into your dress, fix your hair and put on some make-up.

Spencer arrived at the conference room just a few minutes after you. He wore suits most days but you had never seen him wearing anything that fancy. He looked incredibly handsome in his black suit, white dress shirt and bow tie.

Before you had a chance to tell him how gorgeous he looked, he stammered, “Wow… you look stunning.”

Your fingertips brushed over the soft fabric of your dress as if to straighten out wrinkles that weren’t there. A wide smile spread over your face at the compliment. It was no coincidence that you picked a purple dress, aware that it was Spencer’s favorite color.

“Thank you. You look very handsome, too.”

A rosy shade spread over Spencer’s cheeks while his lips curled into a coy smile. The two of you stood there in silence for a few moments until he seemed to remember the item he held in his hands.

“Here, I got you something,” he said as he let you take a look.

It was a small corsage with white and lavender-colored blossoms. It matched your dress perfectly. You reached out your hand, implicitly telling him to put it over your wrist.

His fingertips gently brushed over the back of your hand as he placed the corsage on your arm. His touch was innocent but ignited sparks inside your chest nonetheless. He must have felt it too because when his eyes found yours you noticed that warm glimmer in them again.

As the two of you entered the function room the party had already started. The dance floor was filled with your coworkers, moving in ways you had never seen before. The colors of the balloons matched the rest of the decor and you were more than happy that everything had worked out so wonderfully.

“So, what do you think about your very first prom, boy wonder?” Penelope giggled as she approached the both of you.

“It’s perfect,” was all he had to say.

Penelope grabbed you both at your arms to pull you onto the dance floor. Spencer protested at first but gave in once you took his hand in yours. You joined the others in their silly little dances and to your surprise, Spencer did too. That was until a slow song came on.

As if it was the most natural thing in the world, he turned to you and placed his hands on your waist. You let yours rest on his shoulders and began swaying from side to side.

“Sorry, I have no idea what I’m doing,” he chuckled as he looked down at his feet.

“You’re doing great, Spencer,” you sincerely responded as you moved a little closer towards him until there barely was any distance left between your bodies.

“Is this better than your actual prom night?” He wanted to know. “You never actually told us about it.”

You couldn't stop your hands from moving to the nape of his neck, gently playing with a few loose curls as you purred, “It’s so much better.”

Just when you thought that he was about to lean down to kiss you, you noticed the high-pitched laughter of your female coworkers.

“Aah, look! They are exactly like those teenagers in every high school romcom!” JJ chirped as she pulled out her phone to snap a picture of the two of you.

You turned your head to find her face in the crowd, prompting Penelope to chime in, “No, don’t stop, my two lovebirds! Go on, kiss!”

You felt your cheeks heating up at the realization that you had an audience in this intimate moment.

“Do you wanna try out the photo booth?” Spencer suggested to get away from the curious glances of your work family.

“That sounds fun!”

And it was fun. You spent a while posing like those typical prom couples before taking a bunch of silly pictures with the props Penelope had bought.

“Okay, I think we’re done,” you laughed once your cheeks started hurting from smiling so much.

Spencer shook his head and pressed the button once more. “One last set!”

Just when the countdown of the camera reached the number zero, you felt Spencer’s lips on your cheek. Your head was spinning after everything that had happened tonight. It seemed like finally being close to the man you had pined after for months gave you the courage to show some initiative.

You turned your head to find his mouth, capturing it in a soft kiss with no intention to stop even after the last photo was taken. Kissing him then was chaste and sweet and so, so perfect.

“Busted!” You heard Derek’s voice as he approached the photo booth with his date. “You two should get a room.”

Almost in unison the both of you responded, “Shut up, Morgan.”

The next few hours flew by quicker than either of you would have liked. Spencer must have noticed how exhausted you were, so he offered, “It’s getting pretty late. I can drive you home if you want?”

Even though you didn't want this night to end, you knew that it was probably for the best. “Yeah, I would like that.”

Spencer nodded and took your hand as he led you out of the room. The way to his car seemed endless and the need to be close to each other was all-consuming. There was no way you could make it without giving into your desperation.

The elevator seemed like the perfect place for your second kiss. Spencer pushed you against one of the walls, his hands cupping your face as he leaned down to find your lips. This time it was far from innocent, the way he instantly deepened the kiss let you know that he must have fantasized about this moment for just as long as you had.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathed against your lips. “I’ll never get enough of you.”

What followed felt like a haze, between longing glances, sweet kisses and bright laughter you somehow made it to your doorstep. Spencer leaned down to find your lips once more before he said, “I would really like to take you out to dinner sometime.”

You kissed him again and mumbled against his lips, “I would like that, too.”

His smile was soft when he purred, “Goodnight. I had a great time tonight.”

Right when you wanted to respond, you remembered something. Your facial expression must have given it away, because Spencer furrowed his eyebrows and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Without really thinking about it, you told him, “I can’t get out of this dress alone.”

His saccharine smile morphed into a playful smirk. “Is that so?”

“I know that sounds like the lamest excuse to… you know,” you giggled. “But it's true. Penelope had to help me put it on earlier. There’s no way I’ll be able to get it off on my own.”

Instead of teasing you some more, Spencer simply followed you inside your apartment. You lost the ability to form any coherent thought once you turned around and Spencer touched your back to undo the zipper. He opened it all the way down to the small of your back. The way his knuckles brushed over your exposed skin was intoxicating.

Once the dress dropped to the floor, you turned around again. Spencer let his sight wander over body for a split second before he found your eyes. You noticed how his fingers twitched and he licked over his lips.

“If you don’t tell me to leave right now I won’t be able to hold back anymore.”

You stepped closer to him and whispered, “Stay.”

That was all he needed to hear. His hands were on you in an instant, exploring the curves and dips of your body while your bodies melted into one another in a passionate kiss. With joined forces you helped each other shed each piece of clothing as you stumbled into your bedroom. Spencer pushed you onto the mattress and you welcomed him on top of you.

He began trailing kisses down your neck before biting down on your pulse point. Your whole body felt like it was floating on a cloud as you felt his lips wandering over your skin.

“Would you have let him take your dress off, too?” He mumbled against your neck.

It took you a moment to realize that he was talking about Anderson. “No,” you sighed. “I’m yours, Spencer.”

He moaned in response to your words and found your lips once more. One of his hands wandered down your body, greedily grabbing at your skin until it found its destination between your legs. The moment he noticed that you were already dripping with desire for him, he groaned, “You’re mine.”

Your whole body felt like it was on fire when he began dragging his fingertips through your slick folds. When he focussed on your little bud, you couldn't help but start to grind your core against his hand. Your own hands became curious and wandered from his shoulders down his body until your fingers could wrap around his hardness.

The sounds of his pleasure spurred you further on as you moved your hand up and down, letting your thumb glide over his weeping tip. He felt hot and heavy inside your palm and you got impatient to find out how good he’d feel inside of you.

Spencer's eyes followed your hand when it let go of him to grab a condom from the nightstand instead. He was quick to put it on before kneeling between your legs. The way he took a moment to let his eyes graze over your body almost felt more intimate than anything you had done until then.

When he leaned over you he reached between your bodies to guide his cock to your opening. Your body welcomed him without any resistance and you relished the sensation of him filling you out perfectly.

“Fuck!” He groaned as you clenched around him. “I have wanted to do this for so long.”

With your arms and legs wrapped around his body you brought him impossibly close.

“Take me,” you demanded before kissing him again.

He began pushing into you, slowly at first but with an accelerated pace once he seemed sure that you could take it. The room filled with the sounds of your shared pleasure and your bodies colliding over and over again.

When he felt you getting tighter around him, he propped himself up on one arm and reached down between your bodies with his other hand. When he found your most sensitive spot, he instantly began drawing tight circles around it.

“Are you gonna come for me?” He sighed as if it hadn’t been obvious.

You were already too far gone to answer him, your climax taking the both of you by surprise. When he felt your walls pulsing around his hardness he praised you, “Good girl.”

Just a few moments later he fell over the edge himself, throbbing inside you before collapsing into your arms. He began mumbling sweet nothings into your ear while your fingertips danced over his back.

After cleaning up, you found your home in each other's arms.

“I’m really glad I got to experience my first prom with you,” Spencer cooed before placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “I can’t believe you almost went with Anderson though.”

“I can't believe you almost didn’t ask me out,” You snickered in response.

“Fair point.”

Please like, reblog and leave a comment! I need your lovely words to stay motivated to write more stories.

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @castiels-majestic-wings @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @saturnstringz @missabsey @spencerslove @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @enamoradax @hales-17 @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr @purpledsky @super-nerd22 @velvetthunder93

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds smut

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6okuto · 1 year ago

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bf headcanons for tsukki pls?

TSUKISHIMA RELATIONSHIP HCS

gn!reader | happy birthday tsukki...🫶🫶

king of saying "no" when you ask for a favour while doing it. you'll ask him to pass your glass of water and he'll say no but, without even looking, slide it to you

(risky) umbrella holder. like he Will hold it for the both of you, but he'll move away from and taunt you if you try to annoy him sometimes

^ likes it when you help dry his hair once you both get inside but he doesn't say that. though he doesn't really have to when he's falling asleep while you comb your hands through his hair

remembers if you have meds to take, an appointment coming up, etc. usually won't just bring it up to check with you, but will mention it while planning for things or if he notices you feel off

"guys will take the ugliest photos of you and think they're amazing" no he definitely knows which ones are objectively just like, not good. to be fair he Does find some of them pretty cute Despite how blurry/bad you might look

flips between an awful and good photo of you for your contact photo. you think it's Just the awful one until you check his phone one day and find out he does in fact have good photos of you which is crazy i know!

the guy who keeps getting all the upgrades and tools while gaming except he doesn't share with people. one of his only exceptions is you (sometimes you do have to threaten him though /lh)

also helps You study if no one else. kei is actually pretty good at figuring out the study methods best for you, and manages to quiz you on things you might have overlooked

wordlessly walks up behind you and waits for you to notice. will stand there in silence for like 10 seconds then makes fun of you for not realizing or laughs when you get scared

kei isn't really one to initiate pda, but if he sees his teammates (jealously) looking at you guys, he might put his arm around your shoulder, or talk about date plans just to be annoying. lol.

goes red if you come to watch his game and cheer, but uses it as motivation. < the rest of the team Will keep teasing him and Also using it to motivate him like "better look extra cool today, huh?" "you better not mess up today, tsukishima!"

! teaming up with everyone to tease him. give him a taste of his own medicine fr. and if he tries to throw anything back one of them can just go "tsukishima, is that how you treat your partner?" As if he's said something any more insulting than usual

of course he makes height jokes if you're shorter and not super bothered by them. Of course. at the very least, you can make it his responsibility to look above crowds, reach things for the both of you, etc in return

assumes he'd be the bigger spoon and is surprised if you pat the bed for him to be hugged instead. he finds it a little awkward, but to be fair he's awkward around all physical affection/cuddling in the first place. it takes time, but kei comes to appreciate being taken care of/held, though if anyone were to find out he'd want to poof out of existence for a bit

i think one cute trend that would really work on him is the one where you pretend your sweater smells weird, and when they bend down to smell too, you kiss their forehead. kei is about to tease you and ask if you made sure to throw it into the laundry, and immediately freezes when he feels your lips on his skin. he sits up and looks away and says you're annoying or whatever, but his cheeks are so so red

if you're one to wear one of his sweaters, or maybe just hold it while you're at his house, he either teases you for being needy or goes "is that my sweater?" and then does nothing about it. sometimes he won't even say anything. if you pay attention he'll be wearing whatever it was the next time you see him, and makes it a habit to leave something on his bed for you to grab

if kei sees you talking to his brother he Will try to drag you away or try (fail) to stare discretely. who knows what stories akiteru will tell you, or what you're both scheming.

anytime akiteru asks him about his relationship or how you're doing and does the whole older brother "you're growing up so fast" spiel, he wishes he could melt into a puddle

big quality time fan. if you're one to not be comfortable with physical affection, kei totally understands and is great with that. there's a lot of days where you guys just hang out in one of your rooms, go out to eat or see a performance, etc and as long as you guys are enjoying yourselves, that's all you need

....bad at flirting. like flirting that isn't you guys teasing/insulting each other back and forth. one time the guys were trying to "help him with his game" while texting you and he physically struggled to type their suggestions so he just turned off his phone and said he should block all of them. the most you'll usually get from him is energy of like, "you want me so bad it makes you look stupid" LOL

he tells you that celebrating his birthday isn't a big deal, and that you really really do not,, should not,, make it one. but if you're dating, it means you know him well enough to realize he Does appreciate gifts, and people caring about him.

he gets embarrassed and awkward when people sing happy birthday but who doesn't really. he stares at the cake you custom ordered or made yourself, and tries to ignore how loud everyone is singing. his eyes widen when you explain how much thought you put into your gift(s), and though he struggles with words, he thanks you and takes care to put it somewhere safe until he can appreciate it alone.

#haikyuu x reader #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #i feel like ive done hcs for tsuki but. no idea where they are. if they even exist #scratches head looks around. well #Sorry taglist. im sleepy and supposed to be writing about adam smith / reading marx rightnow. godddd #x reader

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willowser · 1 year ago

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you had only to look at me—

part one.

bakugou x f!reader

wc: 7.4k+

tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, oral (f!receiving), m!masturbation, lots of "first time" talk, more angst, more virgin bakugou.

even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.

this is a repost.

you and bakugou avoid each other just like you did in middle school, only it's a little too easy this time around.

he's terrible at texting back in general, and because you're not initiating any conversations on your own — or sending funny memes or bringing up all might in some capacity — the radio silence draws ever on and on.

the closest you come to interacting with him is getting a snapchat from his mom, his figure in the background at their kitchen table. all you can see is the floof of his hair and the outline of his shoulders, but you're so bothered by the fact that he's home and didn't tell you that you don't even respond.

it officiates things in a bad way; he's really, actually not speaking to you.

and it's — fucking annoying.

at least in the past the distance was mutually and wordlessly agreed upon; you didn't talk because you were busy or didn't have time or anything new to say, but whenever he's come home — because he so rarely does — bakugou has always made his usual, god-honest attempt to irritate you.

and he still is, but this time he's doing it all wrong.

you go through the five stages of grief rather quickly, jumping from denial to anger overnight. several times, you type out something to text him, each message different than the last:

i know you were at your mom's jackass ☠️

it's really not a big deal and i think we should just forget about it, if that's what you wanna do ?

if i crossed some kind of boundary with you then i'm sorry and i won't say that again so you better call me before i put your baby pictures on the internet. i'm serious.

you're my best friend and i don't think it's weird that it happened. if you're being dumb because you're embarrassed, then don't be because i thought it was really hot

unsurprisingly, you don't send any of these and instead just stew in your own aggravation. lunch with him after the whole thing had been just as empty and awkward, and you think he chose the place near your apartment just so you could walk home and he didn't have to spend another second with you.

three months go by, which isn't long compared to other stints you've spent not talking to one another, but this one drags. like a lot. the only good that comes from it is that you graduate from anger to acceptance, finalizing a future without him in it.

except for the few times he invades your brain like a little parasite, red-faced and shuddering, gripping you like a lifeline, and then your stomach flips so hard that you feel sick and it takes genuine effort to check out of that daydream and back into a bakugou-less reality.

and then he shows up at your apartment, uninvited.

his mom hosts a sunday dinner that you don't go to, for several potential reasons. one would be that you'll have to see bakugou and pretend like nothing's happened even though you're still a little peeved; two is that you'll both ignore each other, and that'll reverse all your progress because he's been ignoring you already.

three is that he might not show up, and then you'll have to pretend that it doesn't bother you all night long.

none of that sounds better than watching trash television and falling asleep on your couch, so you tell mitsuki that you're very sick and very sorry, and that you'll make it up to her later.

because of this, the first thing bakugou says to you after you swing the front door open is, "you're supposed to be fuckin' dead."

suffice to say, you're surprised to see him; still outfitted in his hero costume, mask shoved up his forehead so that his hair is wilder than usual. there's kohl smudged around his eyes, messy, and they look brighter and harsher because of it.

there's also a family-mart plastic bag in his right hand.

"what?"

he just grunts, eyes snapping over your figure, dressed down in a too-large sweater and athletic shorts meant for running even though you've never done so in them.

in his hands — still gloved — the plastic crinkles obnoxiously as he holds it out. "old hag told me to bring this to you."

a can of low sodium soup, two apples, gatorade, and something over-the-counter for nausea. there's something else at the very bottom that you don't get the chance to inspect before he interrupts with his big, fat mouth.

"y'look fine to me, so why the hell didn't you go?"

you frown at him and — don't know what to say. clearly, it seems he's going the pretend-it-never-happened route, which is infuriating because he could just as well have done that months ago. even still, he won't hardly meet your gaze, staring for only a moment before rolling his eyes and huffing, sticking them anywhere else. if you peek close, real close, you'd say his ears are a little red, but maybe you're just looking for — something.

you shrug. "didn't feel like it."

he shakes his head like that's the stupidest thing he's ever heard, eyebrow arched. "why the hell not?"

"because, bakugou, i just didn't feel like going, i don't know what else to tell you." you huff, shrugging again when he doesn't say anything. "thanks for the stuff. is that it?"

his lips twist as he thinks, giving you another once-over before sighing. under his tank-top, you watch how his chest expands, the grimace that ripples over his face as he reaches a hand to lightly feel at his right side. "need your help with somethin'."

now you're just being petulant; you snort, raising your eyebrows as his eyes narrow at the sound. "me? are you joking? you need my help with—"

he groans loud enough to drown you out. "y'gonna let me in or y'just gonna run your mouth?" and so you step aside to wave him in wordlessly.

the backpack on his shoulder dumps to the ground by the door and he strolls into the kitchen like he owns the place, despite the fact that he's never been here before. you've lived in the unit for a year, but meetups are so infrequent and showing it off to him was never considered — until now; watching him shuffle through the bag on the counter, your nerves spike at the reality check.

alone together, again. in your apartment. well after dark.

that image of him is so — invasive, sweeping in at the worst times: between your legs, face as red as his eyes, the little moan he kept trying to swallow. how embarrassed he seemed when you asked if he felt good, if you felt good, and the fact that he still admitted it despite everything.

your entire body blazes like a flame to gasoline, and you try to focus on what else he's taking out of the bag, oblivious.

does he think about it at all? the way you have? at the root of the situation, that's what has been most bothersome: is he grossed out? simply embarrassed? does he feel taken advantage of? did he enjoy it and just doesn't know how to say it? the not knowing is driving you insane.

"i got—" bakugou awkwardly angles his body, gently touching at his side again. in his hands is a simple pack of first-aid supplies, like a wound wash and bandages and medical tape. "need you to change this shit for me."

"oh?" is all you can manage to say, still distracted, and whatever is obvious in your voice has his eyes snapping to you from across the kitchen, adam's apple bobbing. you clear your throat, struggling for normalcy. "the hell did you do?"

he's — going to take his shirt off. clearly, by the way he stretches out his shoulders and then slowly reaches behind himself to grab the material by the back, carefully pulling it up over his head with a low, stinging hiss.

bakugou's always been a lean kid — guy — but pulled so taut like that, after years of working out muscles you didn't even know he had, he looks — stupidly shredded, and the slow reveal of his tight stomach is not helping you to focus.

you just never realized how hot it was, because you never looked at him like that. until recently.

his mask comes off with his shirt and he tosses both onto the kitchen counter — again, as if he pays the bills here — and his hair is a mess and he usually doesn't care, but he runs a hand through it several times before finally looking back at you, eyes outlined in black.

"y'gonna help me or...?" he shrugs, trying to appear impassive — but it's too obvious; something's shifted, for the both of you.

you don't trust your voice anymore, so you just shuffle over to him, frowning at the dirty, worn bandage that's already unsticking from his skin. with his teeth, he pulls off his gloves and it's a wonder why he even wears them, really, because his hands are filthy underneath, covered in soot and black-stained grease.

standing like he is, arm slightly raised, you can see all his sweat, muscles shifting under his skin as he breathes, and his hairy armpit is staring you in the face and you don't know when he stopped being 12 and started being 20 and when he became such a man. it's not fair, that he should suddenly be so — attractive.

"you're disgusting," you tell him — and mean it — and it's met with such hot and irritated surprise that you have to keep talking before he explodes. "you should probably take a shower before putting on a new bandage."

it's road-rash up his right side, still shiny and wet and blood red. still raw. just looking at it is enough to make you cringe.

bakugou huffs, exasperated. "okay, gimme a towel then."

"i didn't mean take a shower here!" you squawk, taking a step back as if to further yourself from the suggestion.

detonation imminent; bakugou curls his hands into fists and the same muffled warning you've been getting your whole life crackles. "okay," he says, voice thin and razor sharp. "you're coming back to mine then?"

your whole life flashes before your eyes — or at least the few minutes it took for him to lose his shit between your legs. "what? no, why would i?"

"i need your help with this, dip-shit!"

"you're saying there's no one else that can—"

"if you want me to fuck off, just say so!"

things go silent, startlingly so. totally still, except for the rising flush across his face, one that you used to read as annoyance but are now translating into something else you never could have expected from him: embarrassment. it's starting to give you whiplash, how much you're discovering despite knowing him all your life.

"closet is at the end of hall," you say in surrender. "bathroom will be on your left."

bakugou mutters a quiet, angry little "jesus" before stalking back to the front door to get his bag, and then he's disappearing into the dark of your apartment.

you slump down on your couch and — struggle. watching the tv and absorbing nothing; it's a rerun anyway. the sudden, overwhelming urge to cry washes over you as the shower spray sounds in the background, followed by a low-timbered swear and the clatter of several bottles against the tub.

it's easy to butt heads with bakugou. you don't think there is any other way to interact with him, really, because he's so argumentative and that used to be okay, but now things are — off. you don't know what he's doing, what he wants, why he's here and in your shower when he could be at home or getting patched up at his agency. all the conclusions you can come to are frightening, a little, and they're hard to fathom; is he — does he want more?

is this just because he's a guy that got some action and is looking for a second round, or is this because it's you?

this stupid situation has only added an unnecessary amount of drama to your life, and you think maybe the pretend-it-never-happened route is the smartest path, even if you can't stop thinking about him and the strength coiled in his biceps, in his shoulders, and how tall he's become and — when did he lose most of the baby fat in his face, and when did he get such a sharp jawline?

how much is he working out, to get his body like that? he used to be a skinny, scrappy little thing and now — he can probably lift a truck over his head. must run all the time, though he's always been active, and you've never looked before, but you wonder how nice his ass is.

what he looks like under the shower, soapy and wet.

furiously, you blink out of your daydream, feeling like a foreign body in your own skin; if someone would have told you only a handful of months ago that you'd be having weird, sensual thoughts about your best friend, you would have laughed so hard you'd cried. or puked.

but if anyone else stands in that picture with him, your heart squeezes painfully. traitorously. already, you've shared so many memories with him; the start of elementary school, learning how to swim, giving each other equally bruised faces, staying up all night to study for important exams, tackling middle school graduation side-by-side, him making himself at home in your first apartment, just as you had done in his.

the devil on your shoulder asks: what's a few more firsts?

it seems like the shower stops in record time, but when you hone back in on the tv, the episode has changed and new drama is settling in. distantly, the rattle of the doorknob is more aggressive than it needs to be and when the echo of a swung-open door trails down the hallway, your heart suspends in your throat. never have you had to think this much just to be around him, and it's bothersome.

clean and relaxed, he's — softer; you spare a quick glance at him when he comes to stand beside the couch, distracted by the show on screen, and his hair is damp, starting to stick out again the more it dries. his muscles aren't made of marble anymore; still there and rippling, but he breathes calmly and his skin is baby smooth, tender. you eye his tummy and the line of fine hair running down into the waistband of his sweats, and do your best to ignore the sudden desire to kiss right above his belly-button.

"since when are they talking again?"

just as he looks at you, your gaze shoots back to the screen, eyes narrowing as you try to rapidly remember what's happening in the day-to-day for stay-at-home, pro-hero wives.

"uh," you blink, distracted — and he notices, "what do you mean? they've been hanging out, like, all season."

bakugou watches the tv in silence, occasionally glancing down to the bandage in his hands as he carefully spreads it out, as he dampens the towel with the antiseptic and dabs at his wounds.

"even after she hit on whatshername's husband?"

"yeah, that was a misunderstanding," you frown at him but he doesn't see it. "remember when they went to that dinner party and all hell broke loose because—"

his flat look serves for a rude interruption. "they go to a lot of fuckin' dinner parties."

"i know, but," you scoff, annoyed, "have you even watched this season?"

bakugou scoffs, mocking and over-dramatic, "yeah, as if i've got all day to sit on my ass and watch your stupid girly—"

"you're watching it right now."

"because you've got it on!" he huffs when you sink into the couch, resolutely trying to ignore him. “start it over then, if you’re gonna cry about it.”

you gape up at him, going as far as to pause the show so that maybe he’ll acknowledge you and all your annoyance; he doesn’t. “start it over? this is, like, episode 26!”

“so? got a hot date or what?”

he’s not at all interested in the answer and that’s obvious when he spins around and holds out the bandage expectantly, staring down at the scrape — glowing red and angry, a mirrored wound you can feel scabbing across your own skin; itchy and irritating.

finally he looks at you properly, frowning softly and — you see him then, can feel the tension lining his body as you carefully tape on his bandage. trying to hide how uncomfortable he is, though you he’s never had to do so with you in all of — forever. it’s nauseating, and again you're struck by the image of him, only now it's of the horror that had been on his face afterwards, at what you’d done.

it pushes everything over the edge; quietly, so that your voice doesn’t expose anything, you say, “you haven’t spoken to me in three months.”

silence weighs in the air immediately, heavy, and you watch him try to appear unbothered, shrugging as he stares back at the unmoving tv, jaw tight. “phone works both ways.”

“yeah, but,” your hands drop as he steps away to pull on a loose shirt, and you curl your fists into your own. just as he has. “i’m always the one having to reach out—”

“so why didn’t you?”

“what?” frustrated, you massage your temples, trying to soothe the nuclear headache threatening to incinerate you. “are you seriously trying to—”

“what’s the big deal?” he huffs, slumping down into the far corner of the couch before cringing, swearing as he gently touches at his bandage. “you’ve gone longer than that without talkin’ to me, so…”

the tone of his voice is infuriating, as if this is somehow all your fault — and maybe it is, because you shouldn’t have crossed such a boundary with him, but — he can be such a dick.

“it’s not just me bakugou, you could have just as easily picked up the phone, too!” your teeth grind when he shrugs again, leaning his head against his fist as he looks anywhere else. it almost looks like guilt that's dragging his expression down, but you know better than to assume he could feel such a thing. “you always—”

“jesus, if i always do this—”

“shut up for a second, damn!” and then because you can’t stand the stupid look on his face, you kick him in the thigh for good measure; it garners a warning glare, his teeth bared.

he easily catches you by the ankle when you try to kick him again. "tell me what the big fuckin' deal is."

"the big deal? oh, you mean besides the fact that you totally came in your pants?"

it stuns him for a second, eyes wide and face pale, before he's yanking you across the couch, narrowly avoiding the knee aimed for his gut. "you—fucking—!" a smack lands across the back of his head when he ducks and he plants a heavy hand over your face, forcing you to close your eyes and turn away.

"you're gonna blow my head off!"

"if i wanted you dead, you—" he intercepts the hand you blindly reach up with, crossing it awkwardly over your chest so that you're pinned down like a wild animal. "you would be!"

"kiss my ass, katsuki." you snark, and it does something to him, your use of his first name, because he's still for a moment before sitting back and collecting your wrists correctly, to hold against the couch arm above your head.

"you're such a fucking—" he swoops in so low that his nose almost brushes yours and he grabs the front of your sweater with his free hand, like he's gonna shake you down for some lunch money. "fuck, i could just—" and then he groans long and loud, so annoyed he can't find the words.

"yeah, well—"

"shut up," he lightly knocks his forehead into your cheekbone with another dissatisfied sound, letting out a heavy sigh as he sinks his face down into your neck.

all your muscles tighten on instinct, waiting for the sharp bite that's due any second — but his fingers only uncurl from the material of your sweater, slowly slipping around to tangle into the hair at the nape of your neck. his pull there is a little tight, enough for you to know he's got you, but not so much that you're head is aching; you can't imagine you have a sensitive scalp, anyway, after growing up around him.

you want to say something — which is an annoying realization because now you feel like too much of a talker — but you just focus on the heave of his chest over yours, the breath that moves through him. the minute jostle of his hips as he settles further into the space between your legs, almost comfortable. the slight swell of something unfamiliar against your inner thigh.

bakugou presses his face a little further into you, warm, and the tip of his nose drags along the column of your throat. successfully sedating you, distracted by the feel of his parted lips against your skin.

your body is hot all over, very suddenly; the sweater now feels like a death trap and hopefully you don't smell weird, though it's never been a worry before, not around him, and your adrenaline is rushing and you're kinda tired of acting like you don't know why that is.

fuck pretend-it-never-happened. it's been a long three months.

he's almost entirely pressed against you, but there is a small gap of space that closes when you open your legs a little wider, hitching them around his waist as his breath stutters against your neck.

it's happened so quick, so effortlessly yet again; you give a purposeful roll of your hips upward and are lost in him all over.

only — it's different than it was before because straddling his lap hadn't done much for you, but now the weighted outline of him is right against your center and the pressure that drags across you sends tingles up your spine and has your toes curling in your socks. when you let out a tiny gasp at the stomach-flipping sensation, tension coils in every curve of his body and the grip around your wrists and in your hair only tightens.

you can't help it; you let out a "katsuki" in the same heady tone as you did in his apartment and it has him falling easily into the slow grind you've been unable to stop thinking about. what shifts across his face is obvious, against your throat, like the scrunch of his brow and the slow drop of his mouth. he tries to muffle his breathy "oh" into your skin, but it echoes throughout your entire body, has an ache beginning between your thighs that he's already soothing.

the nip comes then, teeth sinking gently into your neck as you weakly cry out in surprise, but it's only for a moment before his tongue — wet and heavy and wide — is tasting over your jugular, lips closing around your skin as he sucks experimentally. you let out a proper moan then, squirming against his hands and up into him so that the pressure doubles for the both of you.

katsuki finally relinquishes your wrists, carding his hand down your body before coming to squeeze your hip, your thigh, locking your leg tight around his waist. "yeah," he rasps, voice deeper than you've ever heard it as he presses his forehead into yours. "how do you fuckin' like it?"

being bitten, he means, vengefully, but you're spread open beneath him and he's rutting the hard length of himself against you roughly, eagerly, and panting open-mouthed and you tighten up at the aggression in his tone and in his hands and his very being and —

"fuck," you gasp, loud and wanton, "fuck, katsuki—"

and then you are kissing your best friend.

the boy from down the street that always ruined your hair and taught you where to place your thumb if you were gonna throw a punch. that used his empty pen cartridge to blow spitballs at you and mocked you for losing crane games, even though he ended up giving you the stupid stuffed animal anyway. that had to be king of the castle, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield. that demanded you be his queen, weeds he picked for you woven carefully into your hair by his hands.

katsuki kisses like he's shy — another term you've never thought of in relation to him and all his fire and brimstone; it's slow and a little delayed in comparison to what his hips are doing, as if he's in his head too much and is trying to figure how to move his lips and when. tentative and chaste, until you run your tongue along the seam of his mouth and pry him open a little more.

it's making you hungry; that possessiveness from before is creeping back in, eager to have him in ways nobody else has. you arch into him, biting at his lips and sighing into his mouth as goosebumps break out across his skin.

with a slant of his head, he deepens the kiss and you can feel his nostrils flaring, the fingernails scratching against your scalp, the bruises he's probably leaving on your thigh. he lets up only to breathe, panting into your ear when he begins to bite and suck on your skin again; your earlobe and neck and even the cut of your jaw. like maybe he's hungry, too.

you fist a hand into his shirt just to tug it up his body, feeling the strong contract of his stomach when your fingers ghost against him. katsuki gets the hint quickly, rising up to his knees to tear the material off — much more harshly than he did before, which has you eying his crinkled bandage — and you move fast to take advantage of the new space.

it gives him pause when you yank down your shorts, pulling your legs back to slip them off and fling them somewhere across the room. his face goes red again, and his heaving chest, too, and his eyelids flutter as he takes in the sight of your flimsy, damp cotton underwear. you start to pull the sweater up your stomach, but he's watching so intently — so ravenous — that you get shy, without a bra underneath the too-hot fabric.

in any other situation, katsuki would have grabbed onto this moment, your hesitation, and held it over your head to come back and poke at. cataloged this little weak spot for future arguments, but now —

not once has he ever been gentle with you in anything; it's enough of a surprise that that's even a possibility for him, for the two of you, but he presses his body back into yours and kisses you deep, calloused fingers tracing over the new skin exposed to him. he doesn't try to push the sweater up any further, but one hand slips up your back, to splay between your shoulder-blades like it had before, and he's so close and you've never known him to be this — careful. with anything.

"y'r so—" katsuki rolls his hips again and groans, whispering against your lips. "fuckin' soft."

his sweatpants are still on and you don't know why, but when you reach down to help tug them off, he grabs your wrist before they can go too far.

he presses the heat from his cheeks into your own, like he wants to share it. "you done this before?"

"have you?"

he frowns at your non-answer. "i asked first."

you have. three times, technically, though a phantom pain echoes in your stomach at the memories, and you feel an odd emptiness in your chest that makes you really glad to have the sweater still on. your answer leaves you a little ashamed, under his gaze, and you purposely turn from it. "would...that bother you?"

before, you wouldn't have cared, didn't care, nor were you even thinking of him when it happened. wherever he must have been; u.a, probably, getting ready to make his lifelong dreams a reality while you trusted a boy that didn't look at you the way katsuki is now. that didn't hold you and touch you and kiss you the way your best friend has.

he scoffs, though it doesn't sound as careless as it usually does and he squeezes his eyes shut so you can't read them. the truth that's hidden there. "no," he lies, "why would—" but he doesn't finish, just sighs.

"it was awful anyway," you tell him, offering a small smile when he peeks down at you. he doesn't say anything, so you kiss him once, twice, until his tension is melting away. "should have been you."

the grip on your thigh turns almost painful and he grinds into you so roughly that you both gasp, loud in the tight, barely-there space between you. "yeah," he rasps, sucking another bruise into the hollow of your throat. "fuckin' should have."

you try to imagine it; eighteen and nervous, naked in front of him for the first time since you were seven and got into paint from his mom's workshop, when she made you both strip down in the same room, furious. how different he might have been with you then, how much more unsure. kinder than your ex, without a doubt, even for katsuki, and he probably wouldn't have even gone through with the whole thing, considering how uncomfortable the first time is.

or maybe it wouldn't have been, with him; maybe he would have looked into it, taken the time to wind you up the same way he is now so that you were eager and wet and ready. looking down at you with his wide, almost-black eyes in the dim light of a table lamp. another first to share.

"if i'd have just," he huffs, allowing his sweats to slip down past his hips. shoulders trembling when he makes you moan out his name again. "fuckin'—grown a pair 'n told you—"

the weight of him becomes more obvious, the straining bulge he's rocking into your core, and seeing it is — really getting to you; wearing such tight boxers, you can tell just how close the pink tip of him is to his waistband, nearly peeking out from just how hard he is.

it takes a shrug to get him out of your shoulder, so you can press your lips back to his. "can still be you, katsuki," you breathe, biting on his bottom lip until his tiny frown is gone. "if you want, it can still be you."

for a minute, he indulges himself in the greedy kiss you're giving him, testing strokes of his tongue against your own as his hips stutter out of rhythm — but it's when your fingers brush through the hair at the base of his stomach, trying to slip a hand into his boxers, that he's gasping into your mouth and pushing his body up and away.

determination settles over his face then — along with his vibrant flush — and he doesn't say anything as he grabs you like it's nothing and scoots you up the couch so that your back is pressed to the arm, propped up. once he settles between your thighs, he just rests his face into the plush of your stomach — which is humiliating and has you squirming, but the firmness returns to his hands; holding your hips so that you'll still, so that he can kiss right above your belly button, just as you wanted to do to him.

heat flares in your own cheeks — and down your chest and in your ears and searing on the back of your neck — when you feel the first puff of his warm breath against your underwear, where you're sensitive and slick and aching.

this is completely new to you; your ex-boyfriend probably never considered tasting you here, certainly not with the same desire that's painted across katsuki's face. you have to slap your hands over your eyes and bite your lip, embarrassed, suddenly, at how desperate the simple press of his mouth to your underwear makes you.

"hey, hey," katsuki grunts, pinching at your hips until you peek at him through your fingers. the highlights of his cheeks are crimson and his eyes are black, glaring with an intensity that makes you shiver. "it's my fuckin' turn."

to make you fall apart, he means, just as he had.

at the first hot drag of his tongue against the material, you squirm, leaning your head back so that your expression is hidden. another grunt comes from him, you think in dissatisfaction, but he continues, laving until your mouth is falling open and the fabric between you is drenched.

he's gone just long enough to be replaced by the ghost of his thumb, touching you much too-gently. hunger has you stealing another look at him, watching behind your hands as he stares, blatantly, at the mess he's already made of you, stroking the pad of his finger against the sodden material in interest.

discovering; a curious swipe over where you're aching has you sighing and trembling and his eyes jump back up to your covered face, open mouth curling into the faintest smirk as he does it again and again and again. it's bullshit — how quickly he's figured you out, almost as if your body was meant to be unraveled by his hands — but then again, it didn't take you long either, did it?

"katsuki," you hiss, digging a hand into the hair at the crown of his head, tugging on it until his smile is dropping and his eyes are lidding. your body is on fire and your legs are trying to close around his head, hips squirming as he toys with you, like the little brat he is.

deadly serious, he grabs your underwear and holds it tightly in his fist so that you can wiggle one leg free, and then he's tugging it out of his way and devouring you whole.

it's sloppy, the mixture of spit and slick as runs his tongue through you, wet and wide, and you're so sensitive that you squeak out in surprise, fingers tightening. a groan punches from deep in his chest and your hips buck at the vibration of it, drawn so tight already.

"oh my—" you gasp, dropping your other hand from your face to grip the couch; eyes closed, you're somewhere else entirely, lost in the clumsy swirl of pleasure between your thighs.

katsuki raises his head to breathe, reaffirming your grip in his hair by wrapping his fingers tight over your own. at the shiny sight of his mouth, you can't help but to whimper with a needy roll of your hips, until he's simply sticking out his tongue and allowing you to ride it, to use it as you need to. it's embarrassing, how desperate you are, but his eyes are knife-sharp and trained on you and you've never experienced anything like this.

he moves then, slipping one hand further up under your sweater, cupping your breast carefully as his lids flutter — and the other is shoved between his hips and where they're pressed into the couch. you tighten up at just the idea of him rutting into his hand while kissing your messy slit, moaning openly, head falling back as your eyes start to roll.

this is — fuck — you've never been so turned on in all your life and it's driving you crazy; at one point in time, the thought of bakugou like this would have grossed you out, but now you think it's only like this because of him. anyone else wasn't right, not the way he is, and he's maybe a little impatient and unwieldy, but it's katsuki. between your legs with his mouth on you — something he wanted — and his fingers are brushing over your nipple and the other is down his pants, wrist flexing and —

"fuck, oh fuck, i—" you try to sit up, chasing blindly after the high, but he forces you back down. a long groan is muffled by your skin and when he lifts his chin just a little, a glob of spit falls off his lips and the sight makes your toes curl before he presses back into you and sucks.

everything goes blank as you free-fall into him and you cum quietly, muscles so taut in your body that your voice can't even squeeze out of your throat. the minute you're able to breathe, he's biting a mark into your thigh and yanking you back down under him, lips slick against yours.

tasting yourself on his tongue has you coming out of the heady haze, ravenous; katsuki helps you to shove his boxers down, though he can only gasp tightly when he grinds against you, coating himself.

"'m not—" his soft hair tickles your face when he shakes his head, arms trembling beside your head. "i won't be able to—"

"keep going," you breathe, smearing your mess over the tip of him and down his length as he groans. "i don't care, keep going."

he smashes his lips to yours, though he's only able to meet the pump of your hand a few times before dropping his forehead to your shoulder, spine curling, fingers digging into your hair. katsuki swears long and low, eventually letting out a soft sound you wouldn't have expected from him as his entire body tenses and he spills onto your stomach.

"goddamn it," he moans into the fabric of your sweater, weary, after a long moment. "now 'm fuckin' tired."

and for some reason that makes you laugh, though the lust is dissipating and your nerves are trembling at the memory of how this ended last time. katsuki pulls away suddenly, making your stomach drop, and he doesn't look at you as he detangles himself, awkwardly shuffling away from the couch and out of sight.

you frown down at the mess on your stomach, the way it's pooling in your belly-button — and you'll be damned to let him leave you like this, but just as you finishing reciting over and over what you want to say, he appears, towel in hand.

it's still damp from his shower and you tense on instinct, waiting for him to start twirling it with that stupid grin on his face, but katsuki only arranges your legs so that he can sit between them, carefully wiping you off as his cheeks burn. and you just watch him, the way he runs a hand over your skin to make sure he got it all before helping to finagle your underwear back on properly.

then he just looks at the tv, unmoving. if he's trying to appear casual at all, it's a piss-poor job — but he's never been able to keep his fat mouth shut for long.

the look he gives you lacks its usual heat, though you can't tell if that's just because he's drained or if he's withdrawn for another reason. "what now? six months, a year before you talk to me again?"

and you're annoyed all over again.

"what?" you return his weak glare, sitting up properly so that you're right in his face. "are you kidding me? you didn't talk to me either."

"the hell did you want me to say?" he scoffs and — you could slap him, for ruining everything so quickly. wipe that stupid look off his face with your fist. "'sorry i busted a nut, you free for dinner?'"

"yeah!" the shrill tone of your voice makes his eyes widen, and you throw your hands up in the air, incensed. "that sounds wonderful in comparison to coming home and avoiding me."

"i didn't avoid you," he mutters, though his eyes drift back to the tv. "just didn't have shit to say."

"bakugou," you slap your hands over your face for the second time, though this one is much worse than the last. "how is that fucking fair? what did you want me to say?"

and now — his eyes are full and furious, mouth curling down into an ugly frown that you've so rarely had the pleasure of seeing on his face; every time his mother made you go home and when you told him you weren't gonna try to test into u.a. when he overheard your girl friends teasing you for liking an older boy in your school.

when he was losing you, you realize.

"'m not doin' this shit with you," he mutters, definitive, before swiping his shirt up off the floor and standing. "not doin' this bakugou shit."

"oh my god," you groan, rising, too, because your stomach is twisting at the thought of him leaving again, no matter how angry he's making you. "what does that even mean?"

you trail him as he stomps into your kitchen to grab his work shirt and mask from the counter, trying to interrupt him at every turn, and the scowl on his face only grows when you shoot to stand in front of the door, just as he reaches for his bag.

"you can't—"

"this," he seethes, gesturing to you and then himself before gritting his teeth so hard that they should shatter. "this is why i didn't wanna fuckin' talk to you."

you knew he didn't. the minute lunch ended and when you made out his shape in mitsuki's snapchat: you knew. but hearing it from his mouth is as much of a confirmation as it is a kick in the gut.

there's more he's struggling to say, mouth shifting as he chews on the words and the skin of his lips. his gaze jumps from you to the door to something on the counter before he's swallowing again, staring down at you with brand new eyes.

the light in the kitchen makes them shine, angry and sad. "i can't—" he sighs, nostrils flaring like he's mad at himself for struggling. "go back to bakugou, not after—" a vague hand waves toward the couch. "maybe this is just, i don't know, whatever to you, but i — fuckin' can't."

tell me what the big fuckin' deal is; earlier, he'd demanded it of you, why the silence mattered so much this time when it didn't seem to matter before. in the midst of your anger, you didn't think twice about his wording but now —

he wanted you to say it. katsuki wanted to hear you say that it hurt to be without him for so long, and he kept his distance because he was afraid that you wouldn't.

"you're so stupid," you mutter it quietly, and his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, enraged, but before he can get another dumb word out, you loop your arms around his neck and just — kiss him.

not crazy or wild or lust-driven, just your lips to his, slowly working him out of the shell he's tried to hide behind.

the bag in his hand hits the ground with a soft thud and then his arm is wrapping around your back, tugging you to him as he finally breathes and opens his mouth — and lets you in.

when you cup the sides of his neck, katsuki inhales sharply through his nose, pulse jumping under your fingers, and his lashes flutter against your cheeks as he opens his eyes. he pulls back enough so that you can stare at each other and you realize that eyeliner is still clinging to his lids, making him seem sharper than usual.

you're a little stunned, then, at how beautiful he is.

"i can't go back to bakugou either, dumbass." gently, you knock your forehead into his, smiling at the pout on his face. "you've totally screwed that up for me."

"yeah, well," he huffs, "about time. only took you all my goddamn life."

"sorry i'm late."

"what else is new?" he rolls his eyes and you squeak, indignant, before sticking your tongue out at him, patience worn thin already.

you expect a bite or a pinch to the cheek or another rough violence that falls along the lines that have made up your relationship thus far — but instead there is only something soft that reflects in his eyes and the shy kiss he presses to your lips, something that he's kept safe just for you, guarded, with his stick-sword and cardboard shield.

#narrator voice: willow did not have the spoons to extend the ending #whoopsie #okie okie part 2 #✿ willow writes #✿ one shot: bakugou

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imshymorph · 10 months ago

Text

Gather around everyone, here’s some soft!Gaz headcanons. Idk if it's a blorbo or me ranting and fangirling but i need to share the brain rot. another post today cause fuck it, i’ve been thinking about it for a while. also this was like a constant stream of thought and not proof read.

I truly don’t understand why this man gets ignored so much and I never will. He literally has everything you could ever want, saying he’s a ten doesn’t cut it. And yet I barely see people talking about him. (Except the gaz nation pookies, I see you).

This man absolutely bags the hottest significant other, doesn’t even know how. Don’t get me wrong, he 100% has rizz but he’s also just naturally attractive and inviting so i feel like by the time he starts to flirt on purpose it’s been two hours of pure smoothness. He’s also absolutely whipped but plays it off really smoothly.

- - - - -

Not only does he bag the hottest and meanest pookie aka you, but he also absolutely knows he did. And he’ll let right about everyone else know. I do think he’s more private about his life than say Soap, so it’s not like he’ll stop a random recruit and tell him about you (which i truly believe Johnny would do). But he has absolutely followed Price around base while he tells him about the two weeks leave he took to be with you.

Poor Price on his desk, dealing with the paperwork that comes as a necessity after Ghost and Soap blew something up during a drill that didn’t involve explosives at all. Not only is he having to fill out like fifteen different forms and reports, but he has Gaz sitting across from him, scrolling through his gallery and showing pictures of the place he took you out to on your Friday dinner date. Not only that but if Price just pretends to look but doesn’t actually pay attention Kyle will know and insist until the captain actually looks at the slideshow.

He doesn’t hammer your dates' knowledge onto Soap and Ghost as much, but he’ll definitely do subtle flexes. He chest the time on his phone instead of his watch so they’ll see the picture of you he has as a background. If someone brings up a weekend plan he’ll say how he can’t because he’s already going out with his darling. Subtly will tell anyone that will listen how you got him his new shirt, pants, cap, whatever it is tbh.

He also knows every single product that you prefer, doesn’t matter what kind it is. Makeup, skincare, cologne, fabric softener, snacks, beverages, food places, clothing brands. He doesn’t care, he knows all of them by heart. It’s like he has a six sense too, every time you’re close to running out of them he’ll randomly stop in the store on his way back to you from base and get them.

While i headcanon that Johnny gets into skin care after his darling introduces him to it (which you can read here, if you want). I believe Kyle absolutely has his own routine and that he is the one who first brings up the idea of having a spa night once a week. He’s the one to get the products, he even goes all out and does them themed, like by scent or colour or something.

Has a bunch of hoodies in rotation (or any other clothing piece you might steal from him) always making sure to wear at least one of them for a few days before “forgetting” it at yours or “forgetting” to take it to base once you’ve moved in together. He knows how much you love wearing them and how important it is that it smells like him. So he dutifully makes sure you always have a fresh Kyle™ piece of clothing available. Also it absolutely works for him too because he takes back the one you’ve had with you meanwhile. The mix of your cologne, body wash and fabric softener his favourite scent for sure.

And last but not least of my Gaz is the perfect boyfriend agenda (for today) is the fact that i know he just gives the best back massages. You don’t even have to ask for it, he’ll just come to the living room, lightly pat your shoulder so you move forward. He fits himself between the couch and your back and just gives you the massage of your life. He just laughs it off when you tell him he could be a masseuse if he ever retires from the military.

It takes less than 5 minutes to have you absolutely melting, and when he’s pleased with how comfortable and relaxed you look he just pulls you back against his chest. His arms wrap around your waist and his chin rests on your shoulder as you sit between his legs, the both of you watching a random show he saw good ratings of.

#cod x reader #x reader #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw2 #kyle gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz x you #gaz x reader #gaz cod #gaz call of duty #gaz nation #soft!gaz

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silentcryracha · 1 year ago

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I'd like to request a horny filthy absolutely deranged drabble about this Hyune look because I still haven't managed to get up from the floor iykwim

https://twitter.com/hyunesz/status/1684902894401921024?s=20

link - OH hun if only you knew how many asks I got about this specific look LMAO, glad we're all on the same horny boat 🤝

warnings: non idol au, strangers to lovers, drugs are mentioned but not used, smut 18+ ONLY, unprotected sex (don't), fingerings, oral (m receiving), kind of public sex?, afab reader, kinda dom Hyunjin

word count: 3.1k

masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The ambient felt hot and a little overwhelming. Just enough for __ to feel annoyed, but not suffocate her. The fact that it was completely dark except for the blue and purple lights that illuminated the dance floor enhanced this feeling.

She took another sip of her drink, keeping a small piece of ice in her mouth to refresh herself. She was bored, no question about it. Her colleagues dragged her to this expensive club after a cocktail event, as if the alcohol wasn't flowing enough as it was.

She truly couldn't give a fuck about a party organized by the man, who was essentially overworking his employees, that desperately needed to rub in everyone's faces the fact that he got promoted. Hence more money and power for someone who didn't deserve it. But hey, at least he was offering.

That club was not a normal, cheap club though, It was one of those hyper private and expensive places which only a specific range of people could access. Which is the main reason that convinced her to check it out, curiosity. But it was nothing different from a normal club aside from the crazy drink prices, the people were elegant and the drugs were not directly shoved in your face. It was also a lot cleaner, which was the best aspect.

At some point she heard a light shove, which made her turn her head to the side. A man dressed in an elegant suit, with light brown hair and glasses, also looked down at the woman sitting at the bar with an apologetic look. Even though __ could tell that he wasn't sober.

"Apologies" he slurred, shamelessly checking her out quickly before being pulled to the side slightly by another man. He was also dressed elegantly, with a black shirt that had the first couple of buttons undone, showing just enough of his collarbones.

She coulnd't help but stare for a couple of seconds at how beautiful that man was. Was he even real?

"Stop embarrassing yourself, Jisung" he said, glaring at him. __ was too starstruck to realize that she was still staring, but as soon as the black haired man locked eyes with her, she immediately woke from her daze and looked away. Yeah, stop embarrassing yourself too, __, she scolded herself mentally.

"C'mon man, don't you want to have some fun? A guy is selling some pretty dope stuff, if you know what I mean" the brown haired man nonchalantly hinted at sniffing his finger, and laughed when the black haired one rolled his eyes at him.

"I don't need cocaine to have fun. You do you though. But don't come fucking crying at my door when Chris fires you again." he warned him, taking a sip of his own drink before dismissing his friend. She didn't mean to be nosy, really. But they were just a little too close to her hearing area, so oops?

She still wasn't looking in their direction, pretending to be interested in stirring the small straw in her half finished drink. It was basically half ice and half fruit so she wasn't feeling the dizziness at all. Besides, she had decided to actually eat at the cocktail party, mainly out of boredom and to avoid making conversation.

"Ah, shut the fuck up, Hyun" Jisung scoffed, leaving his friend's side before disappearing into the dancing crowd. __ sneakily glanced at the man sat not too far from her. But with her surprise, he was already looking back at her. So, this time, instead of being a coward, she played it off with the hint of a smile.

The man tilted his head to the side slightly, the shadow of a smirk on his face, so confident and calm in his demeanor. It was almost intimidating, and she felt herself blush, a string of shivers running up her exposed spine.

She did feel quite overdressed, even for such a place. She was wearing an elegant black, silky, cowl back slip dress, that had a split on the right side. Her hair were tied up, so all her back almost down to her butt was exposed, as well as her neck, collarbones and some cleavage. Was it a little too much for a cocktail party? Actually not, but it was quite sexy and she knew it.

"I apologize for my colleague's rude ways." her head snapped towards him as she realized that he was speaking to her. His voice was hard to decipher, a mix of teasing, apologetic and polite. As she looked at him she saw his dark, piercing eyes staring at her, waiting for a reaction.

"Oh" she said, waving a hand dismissively, "It was nothing. I hope he gets home safe." she added, absolutely not knowing what else to say. And she was convinced that the conversation would've ended there, but the man didn't let it.

"He'll be fine. He's a lucky man." he replies, finishing his drink in one shot. "What about you?"

"What about me?" she retorted the question, carefully thinking how much she could trust that man.

"I'd ask if you're here alone, but it just seems to me like you were dragged here by someone else. Or else you would be enjoying yourself." she smirked, mimicking his head tilt.

"Do I look like I'm not enjoying myself?" her voice was between irony and curiosity, but truly she was just amused. The man put down one foot and lightly dragged his own stool a little closer, so that now less than thirty centimeters were separating them. If she had turned to face him, their legs would've touched.

"Not really. Unless your kind of fun is brooding at a bar alone while everyone else is grinding, dancing and, well, probably snorting coke on a few surfaces." he nudged his head to where the dance floor and some couches were.

"Not everyone, though." the woman replied, also finishing her fruity drink before continuing, "You're also sat here, at a bar, alone. So, are you also a type who doesn't want to have fun? Like your friend said?"

The black haired man raised an eyebrow, amused with how well you were keeping up with him.

"That's also true. So what, then? Are we really two people who can't have fun? Or maybe this isn't the place for us." this time it was her turn to raise an eyebrow. Was he hinting at what she was thinking he was...?

"Do you have any suggestions, mr...?" she already knew that they were gonna end up fucking, so might as well gather some important info before any shit goes down.

"Hwang. Hyunjin Hwang." he answered without hesitation, still maintaining his cool aura. "And, about the place. It depends on which kind of fun you like." she didn't miss the way that his eyes checked out her whole figure, with a particular attention to her exposed back and valley between her breasts.

So she decided to play his game, and to send him a message loud and clear she elegantly turned her body towards him, crossing her legs. Effectively making her exposed calf brush against his clothed one. Hyunjin looked up at her with sharp eyes and a newly fueled hunger.

"I don't have preferences. Why don't you take me somewhere?" she asked seductively, leaning down to speak just enough to give him a new angle to her cleavage. He inhaled a sharp breath when her leg brushed against his again, so after that he decided that he had enough.

Hyunjin stood up, offering his hand to her, which she took. After that he led her through the mass of dancing and sweaty bodies in the dark, until they reached a small corridor. She thought that he was going to lead her into the bathroom, cliché but it will do for a quickie.

But suddenly he got in front of her, effectively caging her with his arms against the wall, to which her back was now pressed. She got tense for a second, until he detached one of his hands from the wall, bringing it up to caress her cheek.

"What's your name?" he asked, casually, as his hand kept on going down, from her cheek, to her neck, collarbones, his pointer finger lightly tracing the shape of her breasts that could be seen from the neckline. Her breath hitched at his every move, so featherlight, yet capable to make her shiver.

"__" she answered, breathy. Hyunjin hummed as his face got closer to her neck, leaving a small kiss on it, making her lightly gasp.

"Do you want to do this, __?" he murmured, against her skin. The loud music was now muffled to their ears, which allowed some sort of silence.

"Yes, I do" she breathed out, starting to touch his chest with her hands, until they slid around his neck to pull him closer. "Do you, Hyunjin?"

He didn't even answer and instead moved his head up to crash his plush lips to hers, the kiss immediately turning passionate and leaving both of them breathless. __ felt two hands on her ass, but before she could realize what was happening, Hyunjin had picked her up, making her legs wrap around him automatically.

He led them to the bathroom, and picked the men's one. Just because they would've just gave up by finding a locked bathroom, he was sure. Nothing would've ruined that moment.

He kept kissing her as she sat her on the expensive marble in between the sinks, then walked away to lock the door behind them. The bathroom was of course huge, clean, with dim lights and a wall long mirror behind the sinks.

She was still panting, both from the kiss and the adrenaline of the moment. Hyunjin swiftly unbuttoned the center jacket button and let it slip off his shoulders, placing it nearby. Then he unbuttoned and dragged up to his elbows his dark shirt. Actions that were so simple, but done by such a handsome and sexy man, were driving her crazy.

As he walked closer to her, his eyes were not leaving her at all. She instinctively spread her legs enough to accommodate him, which made him darkly chuckle. One hand went to her waist while the other to the side of her neck, his thumb tracing her chin.

"Don't let me wait" she said with a husky voice, teasing the small v of his open shirt with her pointer finger. He laughed lightly, starting to kiss her neck and jaw, while his fingers started to trail up from her nude calf, to her knee, to her thighs, and bringing her slip up dress up to her sides as he did so.

"I'd love to play with you longer, but unfortunately you're right, we can't take too long" he said in between kisses, to which he had started to add some licks. She moaned, grabbing the side of his beautiful face and pressing it to her own, kissing him openly and sloppily.

She gasped into his mouth as Hyunjin's fingers were now gently rubbing her clit over her silk panties. She was losing her mind, and needed more, and she needed it now.

"Please Hyunjin..." she whimpered, her fingers clutching the fabric of the shirt on his shoulder. He hummed in her mouth, leaving it to speak "Tell me what you need, gorgeous"

"I-I need you to touch me. Touch my pussy, feel how wet it is for you" she grazed his ear while grinding on his hand. He used both hands to remove your panties, throwing them to the side somewhere near his jacket on the sink.

Then with his pointer and middle finger pressed together he started to rub up and down around your vulva, making you whine when he teased your hole and your clit respectively. A low, mocking chuckle escaped his full, pink, lips.

"You are drenched already. All this for me, you say?" he teased, with his two fingers now circling her little hole. She nodded eagerly, her lips continuously kissing, grazing, and licking at his skin, she felt drunk on him.

"Yes, just for you. Please, sir-" she didn't realized what had slipped her mouth until after she said it. Her eyes widened from the embarrassment, but Hyunjin on the other hand just chuckled, kissing her.

"Such a good girl, I've barely touched her and she's already so wet." he praised, "Let's see if she's also ready to take my fingers" he murmured to her ear, before slipping two fingers into her. The sudden action and the feeling of fullness made her gasp and moan at the same time.

Hyunjin started quite slowly with his in and out movements but as his fingers got wetter and wetter, her walls also relaxed a bit. Not too long after he started to finger her faster, more roughly, hitting exactly her spot.

Her fingers grasped both of his shoulders as moans and whines were leaving her mouth, mixed with his name, like a prayer.

"Are you gonna be a good girl for me and cum, mh? Make me feel you drench my fingers, c'mon, good baby." Hyunjin kept on praising her as he maintained his relentless pace.

"Oh- oh fuck, yes sir I'm gonna cum, please" she pleaded, closing her legs around his back, while he spit on his other hand and started rubbing her clit fast. That was it for __, as he gushed around Hyunjin's fingers.

She released a long sigh, in between whines because of how overly sensitive she was. "Shh, you did so well, good girl. Look how you drenched my fingers, baby" Hyunjin reclaimed her attention, and with dazed eyes she looked at him putting those same two fingers in his mouth, and suck.

Her mouth was agape, cheeks red, forehead sweaty and a beautiful fucked out expression. Hyunjin was already more than hard in his pants, but seeing her like that, so sexy and beautiful, made something snap in him.

"I want to fuck you so bad" he breathes out, unbuckling his pants, "Will you let me, mh? Do you want me to fuck your pretty little pussy?" he nuzzled her nose with his, desire dripping from his words.

"Yes! Fuck please, Hyunjin, sir" she was still so fucked out from her previous orgasm, but as desperate for another that she was stumbling on her words.

"Shh, baby. I'll give it to you. I'll give it to you so so good, okay pretty girl?" he cooed, while simultaneously wetting the tip of his dick with her juices, to then thrust in all in one go. She squealed by the surprise and tightened the grip on his butt with her legs, effectively pushing him even deeper. This time it was Hyunjin's turn to groan.

"So fucking tight- " he said through gritted teeth, clearly trying to hold himself back a bit. But her clenching and unclenching were not helping him, so in the end he decided to just go all in, and started to fuck her strong and fast.

"Ah, yes! Fuck yes, Hyunjin you're doing so well, please don't stop!" she exclaims in between moans. But he had other plans, because he swiftly pulled out, then dragged back to the edge of the sing __ , making her come down on wobbly legs, just to bend her over it.

They could see their reflections on the mirror now, which gave everything an even more erotic vibe. They both moaned loudly when Hyunjin penetrated her again, from behind. He picked up his fast pace pretty quickly, which made it feel like there hasn't even been a change in positions.

"You feel- so so fucking good, I'm cumming!" she exclaimed, gripping the edge of the marble sing with all her might. Hyunjin also knew that he was close to releasing, but he needed her to come first so he could've pulled out. So he licked two fingers and reached between her legs to rub her clit.

"Does that feel good? uh? Does my cock make you feel that good?" he grunted, keeping his fast pace, She just hummed in approval as she was too fucked out to talk. But Hyunjin wasn't having it, so he slapped her ass once, making her gasp and respond quickly.

"Sorry, sir. Yes it feel so so good" she cried, "I love your big cock making me feel so full. Are you close, Hyunjin?" she panted, as her breasts were dangling out of her dress by now. Braless, Hyunjin noted.

He groaned in response, speeding his ministrations on her clit. which made her orgasm explode immediately, He let her ride out her high,and then slowly pulled put.

"I want you in my mouth" Hyunjin turned around to see you jumping down the marble and getting on your knees. He pumped himself a few times before he let her take charge. Both of her hands pumped him at the same time, as she sucked and licked the red head.

"Mmh- __ I'm about to come" he warned, and then stilled as he emptied himself on your tongue. A few drops escaped the corners of her lips but she promptly caught them with her fingers, cleaning them too. Hyunjin moaned and sighed, having to lean back on the wall to support himself.

Before any of them could say anything, they heard a loud knock on the door. They both stood straight up, and got dressed and presentable as best they could.

Hyunjin hurried her to hide in one of the stalls, but without even hearing her out he forced her and said to "trust him". So she picked one and closed the door behind herself, listening.

She heard footsteps and then the door unlock, and then some voices.

"Sorry man, I think I might've closed it by accident." Hyunjin spoke, with his usual cool demeanor. She didn't hear him anymore so she assumed that he was gone. But she saw some elegant shoes going for a bathroom stall next to yours, so you waited until the man was in and then escaped from the men's bathroom.

She were about to search up the phone to call an Uber, since that was gonna definitely be the end of the night, but a am leaning against the corridor wall made her stop.

"I thought you'd left me there" her words were supposed to be a joke, but came out more embarrassing than anything. He leaned back from the wall and started to walk towards you.

"I would never." he answers, seriously "Would you like me to call you and Uber? I don't have my own car tonight so I can't take you home."

She smiled shyly. "We can share on if you'd like." she offered. He smiled at her and nodded, wrapping one arm around her shoulders.

"Then, if it's okay with you, I'd like to ask for your number." he said. She nodded, with a big smile of her own.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

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lttleghost · 1 year ago

Text

El Camino makes me want to Chew My Arm Off

(I know I’ve made several posts about this movie and my problems with it but I just have to put all of my thoughts down or I’m going to explode)

so, Breaking Bad's sequel movie, El Camino… I’ve tried to like it so long, I’ve seen it 5 or 6 times, and the first few times I saw it I was firmly in denial and thought I enjoyed it even if I had a couple of arguments with it… but I’ve hit this tipping point where I just can't pretend anymore, and I just… hate this movie. and it seems like I shouldn't, right? being a Jesse lover I should be happy that he gets a hopeful, if slightly bittersweet, ending, right? because he does get a somewhat happy ending… right?

except… does he? like even when I was trying to force myself to like El Camino, I was a bit upset by the ending; it seems to be asking a lot of me to believe that Jesse is really getting a particularly hopeful “new beginning” when he’s still alone and without support and now can’t even ever confide in anyone without majorly risking revealing his identity and getting arrested. I also always felt that after the first half of the movie Jesse’s PTSD was kinda… downplayed? and I just have this feeling that might’ve been done with the purpose of making Jesse’s “hopeful” ending a lil more believable considering the circumstances, but I admit that particular aspect might just be in my head.

so that’s not great obviously, or at least it pokes a bit of a hole in the tone of El Camino’s ending for Jesse, but what really tipped me over the edge was realizing what the story communicates in presenting it’s ending as more hopeful and bittersweet instead of just kinda depressing. it communicates that what Jesse needs to do to have a happier life is just make the right choices from now on. BECAUSE YA KNOW, THIS DRUG ADDICTS PROBLEM WAS HE JUST WASN’T MAKING THE RIGHT CHOICES!!!!

and I want to believe that this wasn’t intentional, I know the writers at least sympathize with Jesse, but there are scenes within El Camino that just make it really really hard for me to believe that on some level that isn’t what you’re supposed to take away from it, primarily this one -

and this scene which follows it a short time afterwards -

I think that we’re supposed to agree with what’s being said by the disappearer guy and Jesse in these scenes, that Jesse is in fact at least somewhat responsible for where he ended up. It’s hard for me to imagine that they’re scenes where you’re expected to say “oh fuck OFF!!” and “sweetheart I understand why you think that but no, they fucked up” at the screen respectively.

now, it’s very in character for Jesse to say what he did to his parents. children who are neglected tend to blame themselves for their own hardships - and I bet Jesse also just wants to lessen the guilt that his parents might feel in general if he can cause he’s a sweet person… but I don’t understand why it was necessary to have the disappearer guy say what he said. he could have said any number of things besides “you made your own luck” to Jesse in response to Jesse not quite having enough money for an identity change, including something simple like the cost of his services is the cost of his services, no exceptions.

and since Vince Gilligan does seem to believe that there is possibly a perfect way to pull off the ending where Jesse did end up in jail even if he couldn’t write it himself I’m even more sure that he’s got a fundamental misunderstanding of the responsibility Jesse has in his actions and what might actually be useful for solving the problems Jesse does have. like yeah, Jesse’s gonna feel guilty whether or not his actions were in his reasonable control because he’s a person who cares about others getting hurt, but I’m sorry, is repentance the actual solution to that? really?

cause, tell me this; how is it useful in any way to continue to “hold Jesse accountable” for his actions by the end of Breaking Bad, isn’t the purpose of doing that to prevent someone from doing the same harmful things again? what is the point of this in Jesse’s case? the only genuinely shitty thing that was his full responsibility and was something that he had a reasonable choice to not do was his attempt to sell drugs to the rehab group, but GUESS WHAT!? Jesse snapped himself out of that idea without much of the way of people telling him it was bad to do. I think this is a lesson learned! and I keep using the term “reasonable choice” for a reason, and it’s because sometimes someone has a choice to do something sure, but it’s unreasonable to expect that every single person will make the “right” choice, like most of the worst things that Jesse does are because he is backed into a corner and/or being manipulated by Walt! oh and Jesse being a drug dealer in the first place? a) selling drugs to people who are seeking them out isn’t actually this massive act of harm long as you’re honest about what you’re selling, people will always use drugs and need to get them from somewhere, also alcohol is more toxic and kills more people than meth does, and b) so while Walt had the choice between selling meth and… accepting help from other people who think that they owe him anyway, Jesse had the choice between selling meth and poorly paying jobs, one of which we see offered is ACTUALLY humiliating, not just “ooh I have to accept help sometimes”, and actually he’d have to do this all while lacking support or help from anyone except maybe his friends who are still very involved in the drug trade because his parents are shitty fucking people who weren’t prepared or willing to have a child that wasn’t “normal”. and it's not like this makes anything that he did good or that he didn't do anything wrong I'm not suggesting that he's a perfect person, but I don't think that what he did is uniquely bad in any way.

and even if I’m wrong and the movie is actually trying to get across that Jesse didn’t USE to have choices but NOW he does I think… the ending still wraps it up badly and it still communicates a bad message. like why are we led to believe that Jesse is going to make different choices from now on? not only does he still have no outside support or resources, but he has LESS options in regards to acquiring those things than he had at the beginning of Breaking Bad and a FUCKTON of new PTSD on top of that. like I think it’s unlikely that Jesse is going to get back into the criminal world but instead of me thinking that because his life circumstances have actually improved in the ways that they should’ve it’s because he’s been through so much horrible trauma in the past that he’ll “know better”. Jesse received trauma that we’re sorta meant to interpret as him learning from, punishment that he learned from, so that now anything genuinely miserable coming up in his life will simply seem better than what he’s already been through, again rather than actually having resources to make his rough patches in life better. El Camino still puts all of the pressure onto Jesse alone to have a better life. and I think that ultimately leaves us with an ending that is bleaker than it wants to admit

I don’t know how I could write El Camino to have the happy ending for Jesse that I both want and think he deserves, at least I’ve not been able to come up with anything that feels believable enough, so sadly I think that the best way to fix it is by changing the tone of the ending so that it does feel bleaker. maybe add in a little more focus on Jesse’s PTSD and that he doesn’t really know how to deal with it later in the movie as well, but still keep in everything that show’s Jesse’s kindness, like him feeding the spider Todd was keeping and the scene with the beetle that always brings the Undertale quote “despite everything it’s still you” to mind. if nothing else I’d hope that it’d make people think about how nothing about Jesse’s life circumstances have changed in a way that actually will allow him to thrive, and feel upset about it because he continues to persist in being a caring person in a world that never wanted him to be.

#El Camino #Breaking Bad #BrBa #Jesse Pinkman #meat.txt #this is my girlfriend dont touch him #this is long but I'm refusing to put it under a readmore #also I'm gonna elaborate more on parts of this and it'll become my second video essay probably

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owmylasagna-blog · 1 year ago

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Headcanon: I guess post-BPS, Eddy would be really depressed and in a indetity crisis for at very least two weeks (it's too much of a drastic change to him), Edd would do his best to be a sensitive, empathetic friend and help him out while struggling with his own flaws and his bitchy side (I figure they would stop bickering SO THAT MUCH after BPS, at least for a while). tbh I guess Ed would be too happy making friends with the kids or rebulting a sibling relationship with Sarah to notice for some while (He always had been somewhat oblivious to the others' problems, and I figure him being the most popular, beloved, accepted one post-BPS).

What do you think?

Oh yes let’s talk about it! I could see quite a lot of what you’ve mentioned happening for sure. I’m just gonna go into more detail because I can’t help myself and you asked so…

BPS obviously is meant to be THE groundbreaking moment for Eddy’s character. So let’s get into it.

Eddy is a survivor of abuse. And a fighter. He’s got a little of that Childhood Trauma™️ and it does in fact “build [his] character”. See what I did there? Anyway, the point is that just because Eddy has this major turning point, his trauma isn’t going anywhere overnight.

Rachel Connor, one of the writers of the movie who worked specifically on the scenes with Bro, wrote a post where she described Eddy as the Great Pretender which… BIG OOF! As the show progresses Eddy loses sight of who he is more and more as he digs himself deeper into the Bro hole: emulating him more, wanting to impress him more, lying about him more (or perpetuating lies. Who knows!). The whole Great Pretender act isn’t exactly fulfilling. It’s putting more stress on his actual friendships with his pals. His depression in the 5th season (@book-o-scams has written about this) feels like a result of all this.

So when Eddy’s scam goes so horribly wrong that he and his friends are run out of PC, he almost loses Edd’s friendship, only to get publicly abused by his big bro, Eddy is faced with the reality of the person he could become. And that’s when he knows it has to end. This epiphany should be liberating for him in some ways but also sets off a whole self discovery journey. Of course he’d feel a little lost at the start, trying out lots of different versions of himself, before ultimately embracing his multifaceted self into adulthood. Aren’t we all a little lost in our teen years?

After all he’s been through with his brother, the guy has major trust issues. It's clear that Eddy is anxious to belong and be popular, but attempting to fleece the other kids for quarters at every turn isn’t exactly the best way of making friends (except that it’s a bonding activity with the other Eds). And that feels intentional whether he’s conscious of it or not, that what he’s really after is status instead of acceptance. Because if he doesn’t get too close with others he can’t get hurt. Trust issues are really hard to shake. That’s always going to impact his relationships and specifically his interactions with the other kids immediately following the events of BPS. It’s going to take him years to work through that. And I think he will, with time, get better at trusting and getting close to others.

My interpretation is that Eddy would be pretty bummed and depressed for a while despite all the new acceptance from his other peers, just because he’s having to analyze his own behavior more, question his relationship with his bro, with his family at large, with his best friends, with everyone else around him. I often add a layer of him struggling with the realization he might be gay during the year or two following the events of BPS, and that's not the easiest pill for him to swallow either. I think he’d still put up walls to protect himself and try to find ways to be liked and accepted, to be entertaining or prove himself. I don’t see him immediately being as outgoing with the other cul-se-sac kids as he is within the Eds, but I think at his core he is actually a cool and interesting guy and that comes through. On the flip side, I think he’d mostly work on being more honest and vulnerable with Edd and Ed in the months and years following which just strengthens their bonds more and together they learn to be better people to each other! Woohoo!

We’re moving on: Edd. BPS is a trial of his friendship with Eddy and they came out the other side much more sympathetic to one another. The tension that grows between them during the series run is as much a result of Eddy’s desperation as it is a result of Edd’s anxiety getting way worse. So yes, where I do see Edd helping Eddy through some of his depression following BPS, I also see Eddy helping ground Edd with some of his own issues that are percolating to the surface more. Just two little emo outcasts being there for eachother. Couldn’t be a recipe for a little gay awakening. No chance. (I’m being sarcastic, y’all. You know my schtick). I still think they’d bicker, though. Like a lot. It’s just core to their personalities. Fights just wouldn’t come to blows in the same way. It’s a lot harder to stay mad when you can see the clearly labeled buttons you’re pushing, you know?

Outside of his relationship to Eddy, Edd also seems to be shifting away from being blindly obedient towards authority like in the series. Nothing like seeing a man-child beat on an actual child to really wreck your world view. Up until that point, Edd is a textbook rule follower. I think there is an interesting perspective shift, seeing the world as Eddy has, that will shake his idealism and optimism ever so slightly. Thus starting a tiny little rebellious streak. Again, can’t reiterate enough that turning 13 is such a bitch. The mental toil.

Ed. Oh, Ed. Ed kinda has his whole thing figured out already. I sometimes describe Ed’s heroic act in BPS as him getting his brain back a bit after the school season episodes. I think the kid just dissociates especially hard when he is at school which makes him seem extra random in these episodes. We all gotta cope somehow. Anyway, I do also weirdly think Ed would get on with the other cul-de-sac kids pretty well on his own: he already has decent rapport with the likes of Jonny and Rolf so it would be interesting to see these relationships explored more. In the show he already seems the floater type. Maybe Ed becomes Jonny’s only friend when he becomes the new “outcast” of the cul-de-sac.

I think his consistency is really going to help Edd and Eddy through whatever ups and downs they go through. He’s the type to lighten the mood or give a sympathetic ear or listen to a rant without judgment. He has and always will accept them just as they are, and himself just as he is, and that does wonders for the group’s morale. Also, with Eddy dialing back on the Bro act I can see Ed also being kinder (he’s often feeding off the bad examples) and really embracing the surrogate big brother role for Eddy. I’d love for that relationship to be strengthened more too, and Ed to come to his defense and protection more readily in the way he does with Sarah. At first it would probably annoy Eddy to no end but he’d reluctantly get over it because deep down it feels good to be cared for. Soft like mashed potatoes indeed.

More than Ed rebuilding the relationship with Sarah is Sarah sticking up for her brother to her parents. I think she’d definitely come around to recognizing she’s abused her privileges as the favorite child and also grateful that her brother didn’t turn out That Bad considering. While she’s mending things with Ed I think she’d still take out her younger sibling rage on Eddy (I like to think she sees him as a bonus brother she never asked for). I don’t think they necessarily hate each other or anything, they just have that energy of two scrappy alley cats who have to hiss and swat before parting ways.

#I feel like I both answered the question and only scratched the surface #lots to chew on #yap yap dribble dribble

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hannahssimblr · 1 year ago

Text

Clóda is waiting on the couch when I come back with fingers drumming on her knees, “There’s orange juice on the floor,” she points out. “Did someone spill it?”

“Oh, sh- yeah, Ivy did. I haven’t had a chance to clean it yet.”

“Do you need help?”

“God, no, it’s fine, I’ll just-” I dip into the bathroom and yank some toilet paper off the roll and then start layering it over the spill. God, this is embarrassing. Why did I invite her into this mess? She shouldn't be seeing any of this. The house was supposed to be clean and fragrant with some cool music playing and maybe even one of my mother’s less fancy and less noticeable candles lit on the shelf, but no, here I am on my knees beside Clóda, mopping up orange juice with toilet paper that is rapidly disintegrating and turning to mush in my hands.

To add insult to injury she says, “how’s the whole babysitting thing going?”

“Yeah amazingly. So good.”

She looks around her again and I fear that she will spot something else that’s gone wrong, but she just says, “This beach house is pretty nice.”

“Yeah we’re lucky.”

“Do your parents, um, do they have good jobs?”

“Yeah, you could say that I suppose, my dad’s a dentist and my mom is an actuary.”

“What is that?”

I shrug, “Basically she works in insurance, it’s very boring.”

“I actually used to always wonder who owned this house. I’d see it every time I was walking to the end of the beach, but like, it’s shut up all winter so I never really knew anything except for that some wealthy family from Dublin owns it.”

“We’re not that wealthy,” I gather the soaking tissue in my hands and go and dump it into a waste paper basket. “Probably about the same as you, huh? Didn’t you say that your dad owns the boat club?”

“It’s in the family, yeah, but that’s the only business we own now since we had to sell the restaurant in town.”

“Oh now you have just one business?” I slump down next to her and make sure that our elbows are touching, “I didn’t know you were lowly peasants. God, how do you survive off that?”

“Shut up,” she smirks at me, “It’s not all great, with the recession and all..”

“Yeah the recession,” I roll my eyes, “It’s always the recession this and the recession that these days, isn’t it?”

“Yeah it’s so boring, I don’t care about economics or anything like that.”

“Same. I never pay attention in business class.” I spring forward and grab the TV remote from the table, trying to be very cool and play off the fact that it is now sticky after Ivy mauled it with her child-hands. “You want to watch a movie?”

“Okay.”

“What kind?”

“Do you have the movie channels?”

“Yeah all of them.”

“All of them?”

“Yeah.”

“At your holiday house?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re wealthier than I am then.”

I laugh, “Come on, let’s pick a movie. What’s on? Oh look, Ocean’s Thirteen is there, or… Bruce Almighty.”

“What about P.S I love you?”

I flick it on without hesitation, “Yeah sure.”

She laughs in disbelief, “Really?”

“Why not?” We’re not looking for Oscar winners here, just some background noise, and anyway, sometimes I secretly don’t mind chick flicks that much, at least it offers some ambient background noise instead of the gunshots and helicopters that are always in the films I watch with the guys. Obviously I love those kinds of movies, but girls aren't often as enthusiastic.

I sit back and drape my arm over the back of the couch. Not touching her, not yet, but enough to break any awkward tension and dissipate any confusion she may have about why I invited her over. See, I’m slick like that.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” I murmur as the opening credits roll.

“As if. He thinks I’m at Rachel’s house. You know he actually asked me about you earlier when you came by the boat club.”

“Was he wondering if I work out?”

She laughs, “No, he was all like ‘who was that young fella hovering around the door?’ and all, he says you look rough.”

“‘Rough’?”

“I think it’s the shaved head, makes you look like a skanger.”

I pretend to be shocked, “A skanger? I’m no skanger.”

“Well I know that, but you look like one when you don’t have any hair.”

I run a hand over my head. There’s nothing I can do about it now. “And Rachel? Does she know that you’re supposed to be with her?”

Clóda shifts guiltily, “Um, no. She’s mad at me actually, so I haven’t talked to her in a few days.”

I shift in close to face her. I shouldn’t be addicted to teen girl drama but it’s fascinating. The things they say and do to one another are always crazy, it’s true psychological warfare. “Oh yeah? What happened?”

“Oh, just, you know.”

“You’re going to have to give me more than that.”

“She’s annoyed because she called first dibs.”

“On?”

She blushes bright pink and looks away, and I understand that this is about me. They should probably be more relaxed about this kind of thing, because Shane fancied Clóda too but I got there first. There’s no hard feelings, it’s just how it works, and I think girls might have an easier time if they got on board and accepted things like this.

“Did you tell her that I said I don’t fancy her?”

“No, do you think I should? I’ll tell her that you think she’s annoying or something.”

“Um, no, don't tell her that.”

“She is annoying though.”

“I don’t know about that.”

Clóda scoffs, “She is, she, like, copies everything I do. If I curl my hair, she curls her hair, if my nails are purple then her nails are purple, she has no originality. It just annoys me so much.”

“Yeah that sounds tough, I guess, but if you wanna tell her as much then you have to say that it’s you that thinks it, not me. I don’t want to get involved.”

“Do boys have this type of drama?”

“No.”

“Right… I’m sorry for bringing it up, you probably think it sounds really stupid.”

“I don’t, it’s okay, you can chat to me about it if you want.”

“Well, okay then,” she says, and launches immediately into a ten minute tirade about Rachel and how annoying she is, and how this relates to and ties in with some other girls at their school in some friend group they’re in, and I try my best to stay engaged but it’s frankly confusing. I can’t keep track of who’s who, and sometimes it’s Clóda herself, the main focus of all of these stories, who seems to be in the wrong. She keeps saying things like “Do you know what I’m saying?” and I don’t, but I suppose it’s okay and I can just nod along because what’s important is that she’s here and the things about her that are nice make any doubts I may have about her dissipate and float away for now. Like her eyes, hazel, the beauty spot on her chin and that view of the side of her neck when she tucks her hair behind her ear. When I picture myself putting my mouth there her words don't really matter.

The next time she looks up at me through long, black lashes she trails off, her sentence dies on her lips because she knows I have stopped listening. She knows I am going to kiss her, and I am, because I’ve already subscribed to the idea that kissing her would be so nice.

She watches my hand as I move to push a piece of her hair away from her face and then locks her eyes on me as I lean in and press my lips to hers, and while the idea is nice, so nice, the reality is different. It is wet and messy and she’s still not very good at this. I don't know why I half expected her to have improved in the last week, but it’s alright because I’m two things, I’m patient and I’m a good teacher.

“Like this,” I murmur, drawing back with her face in my hands and dotting kisses to her mouth.

Her breath hitches, “Am I bad?”

“No, I'm just trying to show you how I like it.”

My phone begins to buzz in my pocket and I ignore it. I don’t know why she is so eager to unhinge her jaw and shove her entire tongue in my mouth, but I’m not letting her. Every time she tries I pull back and start again as the phone stops ringing. Then it begins again.

Clóda sounds dazed, “Is someone ringing you?”

“Never mind it.” We kiss more as it vibrates furiously against my thigh.

“It’s kind of distracting.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

I grumble to myself and pull it out of my pocket to see Joe calling, and I pull a face. This guy should not be calling me. Preferably he wouldn’t even have this kind of access to me past six PM, or actually, my number at all, but I answer it anyway.

“Yeah?”

“Hey man.”

I pause for several incredulous seconds, “Yeah, hey. What’s up?”

“Nothin’ much man, how are you?”

“Why are you ringing me?”

“Oh! I think Jen wants you to come and get her.”

“Jen?” I sit up straight letting Clóda’s hands and legs drop away from me. “What’s wrong?”

“We dunno, man. She’s just crying and shit. She just says that she wants you to come over.”

“Where are you?”

“My brother’s house.”

I pinch the skin between my eyebrows, “Did you- did she-” I’m hyper aware of Clóda listening to my every word, “Is she, um, intoxicated?”

“Yeah man, she took a couple yokes and then started freaking out, I dunno. She’s outside crying and asking for you.”

“You left her outside?”

“That’s just where she was.”

“Can you put her on the phone?”

“Um, she can’t really talk, she’s kinda hypo- hyp- she’s gasping really hard.”

“Okay, I’m coming,”

I stand up as Clóda watches me. “Where?” She says as I finish up the phone call.

I move through the room frantically grabbing keys, money, “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry but I have to go and get Jen. She’s at a party tonight and she’s not feeling well,” I instinctively reach to paw at the front of my hair though it isn’t there anymore. “This is terrible, I know, I wish-”

“You want me to stay here?” She glances around awkwardly.

“Well… yeah, you know, I can’t leave my sister in the house on her own, and Jen needs to be brought home, I promise that I won’t be long, the house she’s at is just down in the village, like ten minutes each way, and-”

“Yeah I suppose, I-”

“As a huge favour?” I interject desperately, “Can you just stay? I’ll owe you one, and you don’t have to do anything, just sit here for like, twenty minutes, half an hour max and I’ll be back.”

“I have to be home by eleven.”

“I’ll be back before then.”

“Um. Okay.”

“Yeah, great, finish the movie, um… thank you so much, seriously. I’ll be right back.” I rush up the stairs and out the front door. This is bad. This is genuinely terrible, but there’s nothing that I can do about it, so I push all thoughts about what is happening to the back of my mind and climb onto my bicycle.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy #Jude in this is getting a yikes from me #ignoring red flags while also being a red flag #but whatever i love him #also ignore the iphone LMAO we can pretend it's an 00s nokia or something

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miniimapp · 11 months ago

Note

Can you make hcs for Aaron T,Z, and fem or gender neutral reader being in a poly relationship?

Gen ;; Fluff - Headcanons

Warnings ;; none lol

Proofread + Edited ;; if you even consider this a possibility do you even know me ??

Auth. Note ;; never written poly before so forgive any inaccuracy,, also we went gn!reader for this bc i wanted to alskfkb

also the colour scheme is giving halloween and i live for it :DD

Jan 2024 Edit ;; excuse my abhorrent timing.. let's pretend it hasn't nearly been a year since i got this, yh ?? sick lol

✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈«

literally the first thing that came to mind is lazy mornings

just straight up cuddles only,, no worries

as i typed that i got the sudden like mini scene in my kind of T singing hakuna matata and Z joining in with little harmonies

holy shit T's morning voice is deeper than the fucking mariana trench my dudes

let's get one thing clear,, everyone gets flustered by T's morning voice

and he finds it fucking hilarious

but for the first months of dating,, you thoughts Z was the only exception

literally not a single eyelid batted

you were beyond confused

like,, your cheeks are burning

how is mans enduring this.. what are his secrets

like,, you'd feel your brain melting out of ears trying to maintain some semblance of calm and Z over here is brushing it off like water off of a duck's back

at least that's what you think

inside Z is full on screeching,, he is hot,, he is flustered,, he might be dying..

but hey,, at least no one can tell !!

it took a couple months for you to figure out that Z does not,, in fact,, keep his cool over T's morning voice

he does,, in fact,, lose it just like everyone else

how did you find this out you may be wondering ??

through Z's top secret diary of course !!

you and T stumbled upon by complete accident

really,, you did !!

no sneakiness was utilised in this mission.. definitely not..

but it just so happened to be left open on the table

you didn't even realise what it was at first,, figured it was one of Z's choreo notations and got kinda curious

T always liked to sneak peeks at the choreo beforehand to see how tiring it was going to be lol

then,, once you'd started reading you just couldn't stop

there were pages upon pages of flustered musings,, sincere endearment,, and loving descriptions

it was all too sweet !!

and within those pages was it

all of Z's hidden breakdowns over T's morning voice !!

you knew you weren't the only once,, you just knew it !!

the euphoria quickly subsided to make way for guilt at reading his diary

and you knew T was feeling similarly..

so,, you fessed up

that was awkward,, lemme tell you !!

you'd never seen T so.. squeamish (??) before

luckily,, Z didn't react badly

not even slightly

his reaction actually startled you slightly

because he just started laughing

it started small,, an amused little huff and snowballed into hiccuping snorts

it was honestly kinda adorable..

and that broke the awkwardness for both you and T

you joined in real quick

that really smashed through a couple of layers of ice you guys hadn't even realised was there from the beginning of your relationship

you all got a lot more comfortable around each other after that !!

it was good :))

moving on,,

i feel like T started this game called something stupid like "say that again but rap it"

literally all he does is get Z to repeat his sentences but rap them instead

so Z flipped it back on him because let's be real,, T can talk for a podium position,, he's literally the perfect target of his own game

fr out of nowhere T was rambling and Z waited for him to finish his spoken essay before going,, "say that again but rap it"

T was beyond flabbergasted,, mans forgets the words as soon as they left his mouth

and don't we all frfr

but is that going to stop him from trying (and failing) ??

you bet your ass it isn't !!

mans said real fast "gimme a beat"

AND Z DOES WITHOUT HESITATION

free entertainment baby,, that's what you're in for with these two ;DD

it was a catastrophe,, lemme be real clear

it was mostly just frantic not-words and vocalisations with the odd word or phrase that he actually remembed thrown in

lots of "hmm dumm da stupid fucking washing mashine uhh da dee da" and "broken p- uh p-pu- uh,, what's that word?? da da,, shut up Z !! oh,, pulsator!!"

like,, yeah you got that word but now we've lost all sense of rhythm lmao

it's a great time honestly,, wish i could've been there fr

overall,, i think that this throuple would be so amazingly chaotic but also so sweet and good to one another

you'd never want for anything,, they'd do everything they could for you

and you work so well with them and be such a good connection to the world outside 4*TOWN

i think you'd def keep them feeling human and real

#catch me running over after a year long hiatus #nice to see you to see you nice #i think thats the quote #clearing out my drafts #4town headcanons #4town #4town aaron t #4town aaron z #4town aaron z x reader #4town aaron t x reader #polyamory #turning red

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transenbyconfessions · 2 years ago

Text

Alright. So, I'm trans. Obviously.

And, as is the case for many people, my birth mother happens to be a piece of shit.

As in, you would not believe the kinds of things this woman has put me through while wearing a smile on her face. In hindsight, it is kind of a miracle I have yet to cut contact with her completely, which to be honest I probably should.

With the necessary context in mind, I assume it also wouldn't surprise you to hear my coming out did not went well. But it was either this or dying before I ever reached twenty, so here we are. Literal years down the line. Surviving each day here by virtue of being myself, my eroding force of will serving as a shield against all efforts made to the contrary by somebody who was supposedly meant to guard and protect me. Who has failed spectacularly at both to the point I am long used to doing that by myself.

The point being that — the above being the case — I have numerous times now been dragged into debating the merits pertaining to the right I hold to my own existence with somebody who, against all odds and my own better judgement, I do still care about kind of a lot. Or at least enough to be able to ignore the fact that it is definitely in my best interest to just never talk to her again. Cut my loses and run and simply pray I make it.

It is, understandably, really fucking awful to have to say to somebody — anybody — again and again why you are the gender that you say you are. To be made to prove, constantly without fail, that you deserve to be alive and defy what a stupid symbol in a stupid paper says that you are. To be made aware that certain people expect this of you, again and again, will never stop expecting that of you. To put it mildly: it's stressful like you wouldn't believe.

And yesterday, in the midst of a terrifying debate that I neither initiated nor wanted to have, while standing in the wrong kind of neighborhood to be overheard — well I believe I may have hit upon the way to explain exactly how that feels. Just about.

It starts a little like this:

Imagine you're trapped on a podium, always behind the red curtain. Waiting for the thin fabric to leave the stage open and let in the blinding light of the reflectors you can instinctively tell are on. And there is a kitten (a baby, a puppy…) sitting right there beside you in a bloody metal cage.

And if you stutter or hesitate, or the person on the other side arbitrarily gets to decide that you're wrong — then the cage will collapse in on itself, and the kitten will die.

No do-overs. No retry. You're just thrust out into the light, behind this mangled frail piece of wood with a too small cage that won't open why won't it open, and told you have to defend your side.

Or the kitten will die.

Can't anybody see it from this angle? Don't they hear it meowing? Do they just not care?!

And here you stand, spiraling, when you notice something strange. Not about the multitude, but about the fancy podium on the other side of the stage.

(Something other than the fact whoever's behind it has already started talking. Given the same person who threw you to the sharks up here has already handed them a script.)

There's a cage there too, shiny and clean and brand new. Visibly resting well above it instead of behind. Except this one is made of cardboard, its surface all covered in aluminum, and you can clearly see from here that the insides are empty.

They preach to the people in the multitude about the sanctity of this cardboard cage. Attack and accuse you of wanting to kill the kitten, placing it within its own prison in the first place, whenever you try to point out that it exists and it is there. Whenever they acknowledge it and deign to pretend to believe you. Even though they're standing up here too. They should have a clear view.

Thus comes your turn to talk. Except it has actually been your turn, from the moment this whole mess started. But now the other party seems to have run out of words to monopolize it with, and only you are left to fill the silence.

You glace down at the kitten. Tiny family member, fondly remembered, beloved pet that it is. And you care.

The crowd grows impatient. Your opponent's throat clears. This is important to you.

You breathe. And you open your mouth. And every sentence you say only adds fuel to the fire consuming the curtain.

Every sincere confession of confusion or pain mere evidence used against you. Any small hint of righteous fury that you can't disguise taken as an offense. Every impassioned defense taken as an attack.

They won't hear you. Won't accept anything that you say. No one will let you leave.

And even if you could, you would still leave alone.

(There are some, you are certain, who attended only to see the kitten crushed.)

In the midst of this immovable crowd are people you care about too. People you know. Calling you a liar and a killer and a fraud. Calling you worse, for every minute more you risk to stay.

But you cannot step down, because you care.

(Even if you were to win, there's still no guarantee they won't just collapse the cage in front of you anyway. Whether out of hatred and pettiness, mere cruelty, or something else. But if you do nothing the kitten will die, and you have to try, you have to try…!)

So you take a deep breath, and go on, and hope this once someone will listen.

…And that's how I felt.

Basically.

Anyway, I almost never post or submit anything. But I am making an exception for this one because I think it's something that needs to be said. It isn't mine anymore, make of it what you will.

Submitted May 30, 2023

#trans #trangender #nonbinary #queer #LGBT #trans rights #LGBT+#LGBTQIA+#submission #this is so heartfelt and deeply personal and I am so sorry for unwillingly subjecting you people to it #I just need somewhere to put it that is outside myself #transgender #enby #nb #non-binary #non binary #transphobia

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mortallyclearwonderland · 1 year ago

Text

Why I hate romance in superhero comics/shows

All the sexual harassment

Remember how Talia al Ghul raped Batman and no one cared? Or how Emma Frost constantly sexually harasses her teammates and other people? Just because it is a sexy dominatrix mommy doing it to ''horny guys who really want them to do it deep down in their horny male brains all along'' doesn't make it okay. Can't you just give a guy a normal hot girlfriend without being weird about it?

Writers basically putting their own fantasies into comics for no reason.

You think anime is bad with its fanservice? At least anime has its own genres to (mostly) separate porn from other stuff. Take a drink every time someone makes a comment about some superhero's tight outfit and ass.

Why are they attracted to each other in the first place?

Two characters are fighting, they're panting and groaning, and they might land in some suggestive position, faces millimeters from each other and the fight ends and fanfic writers have some material to work with. There's very little exploration as to why those two characters would be in love with each other beyond they find each other hot and the author prefers a specific romance dynamic.

The significant other is more in love with the hero's alter ego than an actual person.

Remember how in Ben 10 Kai treated Ben like trash but practically creamed herself at the idea of him turning into a wolf alien? She even has Blitzwolfer as Ben's contact picture instead of his human/real form. People keep making a ''Can we have normal sex?'' meme with Raven and Beast Boy but it more fits Kai and Ben. I'm just going to leave the image of Mary Jane kissing her fiance to pretend she's kissing Spider-Man.

''You lied to me!''

Bear in mind these people met maybe a couple of months ago and just formed a significant bond.

Hero: ''I didn't tell you before because we were strangers to each other but I'm telling you now because I trust you.''

Dumb Cunt: ''So that's why you were acting weird, keep disappearing and making those excuses?''

Hero: ''Yes! Now that you know I was being a superhero and saving people do you forgive me for being late to your party?''

Dumb Cunt:''No! In fact, I'm breaking up with you!''

Hero: ''What?''

Me: Flips the table in my head.

Destroying the hero's morals.

Hero indiscreetly puts the bad guys in jail except for this one hot femme fatale. At least some iteration of that cliche makes it seem that ''she just keeps getting away''.

#superman #superheroes #comic books #batman #spider man #ben 10 #ben 10 omniverse

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rumor-weed · 1 year ago

Text

Links to My Other Muses!

Audrey “Rumor” Weed - My Main Blog! You Are Here! But also check out the blog, it’s got a lot of fun links/little fun bonus bits. Here to spread rumors, gossip, and party hard til the last day. Her best friends are Bob the Tomato and Petunia Rhubarb. Petunia makes sense, they have a history, but Bob? One can only wonder how long they've known each other. They're on a bowling league together, and she loves it. She's very competitive, just probably not the best bowler. She may have sold Jollies, but we forgot to do anything with that plotline so who knows.

Bartlebey the Butler - Oh, Bartlebey. How beloved your bartleblogging has become. You scamp. You scallywag. You may be a Lovecraftian horror who vaguely resembles and sounds like Tim Curry, but is also a Veggie, a Butler, and Bartlebey, but you’re our Lovecraftian horror. Rescued from a few mentions on a dead blog, we made you our own. In fact, really, the only thing we kept was the only information given: your name and occupation. Now we know so much about you! Well... we know more than we did before, anyway. And that information can be found on the provided Veggie Lore page on the blog, if you don’t feel like sifting through all the RP logs. He is madly in love with Charlie Pincher. One could even say he's Charlie Pincher's dream come true. Maybe he is. He doesn't know where he came from, and his memories all seem fabricated. Was he ever real to begin with?

Phil Winklestein - the Toledian actor best known for being Frankencelery, potentially the next great musical playwright? probably not, though. Just really, really attracted to tomatoes for some reason. He's awkward, uncomfortable, and genuinely a little pathetic. A real "poor little meow meow" of a guy, or whatever you call them. He tries too hard to impress and it often backfires on him.

Peter Pepperazzi - the sleaziest Pepper you’ve ever met. He gives off dark, unsettling vibes, and nobody knows quite why he’s so obsessed with the Veggies, but when they became active again the summer of ‘23, he showed up as well, ready to ask questions. Does he seem a little obsessed with Petunia more than the others? What's his angle? Does he look familiar? He says he has a kid. Does he have any other family around?

Lovey Asparagus - poor, sweet Lovey. Went through an awful period of marriage, murdered divorced her husband, and yet he came back anyway, denying any knowledge of the worst of their relationship. She’s a Vampire now and her best friend is Jerry Gourd, so you know we’re following canon VeggieTales very closely. Only source material here, folks. She may have murder a little deeper in her veins than we think, and as her relationship with Archibald - at least, the one who returned - heals, she's considering solving murders and doing a true crime podcast with him. Just as best friends instead of lovers, this time.

Nebby K Nezzer - The man, the myth, the looks-67-but-is-actually-37 zucchini with a rotten love life. The Incident at Glee Club Finals may have been what aged him so drastically overnight, but nobody knows for sure. Rumor has it that he's actually Wally P. Nezzer pretending to be his twin brother Nezzer, but how long has he pretended? He seems to know too well the life of his brother Nebby. Is he more Nebby K. Nezzer than Wally P. Nezzer now?

Art Bigotti - revived famous bowler Art Bigotti, a once-wild party animal who has softened his edge with world-weary bleakness after a game of Jumanji gone wrong. Well, wrong for him. The game probably meant to do that. Either way, he returned forty years later, still the same age he was the night of the Incident. There are many questions left unanswered for him, and drugs, alcohol, and bowling just don’t seem to be the solution they once were in his golden days. His unrequited love for Dad Asparagus is obvious to pretty much everybody except Dad Asparagus, much to his distress and relief. Disrelief? Restress? There's a lot of highs and lows in bowling and love. They have that in common.

Laura Carrot - the child actor/criminal who Uno and Goliath believe murdered Uno’s parents in a Hot Topic. She did it. But don’t tell the cops I said that! She’s just an eight year old with a dream. A dream to own her own getaway truck one day. If only the world would stop getting in the way of that dream... Junior's her best friend, she may have killed Lenny, and she complains a lot about her dad. We never hear much about the rest of the people in her life, and maybe that's for the best.

Goliath Gottik - dated Uno in his younger days, though after the Incident, it became clear that Uno was suffering a severe breakdown and refused to grow, staying mentally in 2006 for the last seventeen years. He became a professional boxer, cameo’d on VeggieTales, and recently became more active in acting. Because of the whole Laura thing, he doesn’t really trust kids and believes they’re all criminal masterminds. He's not really smart enough to stop seeking medical advice from his veterinarian-combo-doctor Dr. Larry, which does lead to some wacky situations. He's constantly annoyed by his doctor, but maybe he thinks of their situation as friends, maybe as enemies, or maybe just really confusing frenemies. Seriously Goliath, why are you still going to him for medical advice? God forbid you actually need real medical help one day, it may be the death of you.

Pa Grape - Uno’s adoptive father. Tom and Rosie just aren’t around any more, they live out of state, and they never visit. Ma? Well, Ma seems to have gone a long time ago, and Pa doesn’t mention it. If you ask him, he’ll just faintly smile and allude to the fact that she’s been gone a while, a little sorrowfully. And sure, that looks like confirmation that she’s passed, but she could just be on a very long vacation, or they could be divorced, and who even knows. Pa’s been losing his memory lately as he ages, and he does his best to get by with the help of Uno, who needs to let go of the past and accept the way things have changed to heal in time to appreciate his father. Pa Grape also was front-man for Three Days Grace Period, a Three Days Grace cover band. His wife may be a car? Seriously, his wives are definitely a confusing subject, and I don't trust Pa Grape, even if his cover band was kind of cool.

Shannon Cedric “Uno” Scallion, or, Alternatively: Nameless Scallion/Scallion Number 1 - Yeah, he’s goff. He writes fanfic. It’s always 2006 for this scallion, who seems unaware of time passing, though Pa is helping him through his emotions and pulling him out of Emo Hell. He’s worried for his adoptive father, who despite his emo ‘you’re not my real dad’ attitude, he genuinely loves and sees as his dad. He’s embarrassed by the name Shannon (not goff enough), used to go by Cedric before The Incident, and then eventually settled on ‘Uno’ as an appropriate substitute. He's starting to catch up on time, or maybe time is catching up on him, and he's recognizing Pa Grape's aging and falling back into his old self - pre-incident. (I manage this blog with the permission of the owner, who has currently abandoned the project due to unforeseen drama in his life. He did promise to possibly add more ‘secrets’ to the blog, if you know what to look for in the URLs, and might return to his fanfics soon.)

Kilt “Bagpipe” Rhubarb - You know him. That Scottish or maybe Irish lad. And if you don’t? Send him some asks and get to know him. He's a Yale man, a redheaded rhubarb who's inexplicably flirtatious and a little horny. Before Archibald came back, everybody knew him as "that fella Archibald cheated on his wife with". Also a general menace to their society. He's not who he says he was, but who is he then?

Tom Grape - He just wants to be left alone. Why don’t you bother him with some asks?

Egg Boy - He likes Eggs. What else do you need to know? An orphan who wants to know who his parents were, and is also a biter/has sharp teeth like a shark. For a few years he thought his father might be at the bottom of the sea...

Vicki Cucumber - like, ugh, whatever 🙄 she's over it. she's done. She's not even all that into him, and maybe she's just trying to cover up her feelings for someone else. Or maybe she's madly in love with both of them. Or neither of them. It's so not your business.

Scooter Carrot - he’s hip, he’s Scottish, some kids call him oddball, some kids call him weird…

Mr. Beet - Not to be confused with his brother, Mr. Beast, Mr. Beet runs a hotel and generally is pretty pissed off all the time. Maybe there's a dramatic backstory his episode didn't cover, but we'll sure figure it out if we ever get around to focusing on our many many characters. Seriously. Look at this list. This is just Ryan's (me) list. You know how many characters I plan to ADD to it?

Joetato Jonas - star of Camp Rock 2: the Final Jam and Head Brother of the Jonas Brothers. He just wants to be appreciated for being famous! He's THE Jonas Brother!

Monsieur Blueberry - Deep in Denial and Back From Jumanji, the legally dead (ex) Husband of Madame Blueberry.

Doug BumblyBowl - RIP

#my muses #check out the blogs!! they're tuned to the characters and some have hidden secrets or special pages #hopefully more lore pages to come soon but spent a while remaking unogoffboi since the OG blog was broken anyway #ooc

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