#because their relationship has internal conflicts
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Optimusâ attitude towards Megatronâs betrayal at the end of tf one is very ironic when you take into account earthsparkâs premise. (I know theyâre separate continuities but hear me out)
TF Oneâs ending shows Optimus does not think any relationship with Megatron is salvageable. Even before the final fight, Optimusâ first words are,
âWe couldâve built the future together.â
Megatron doesnât process it until the banishment, (his answer to this, âIâll build it myself,â before charging to attack, and his later shock at the banishment, suggest to me he didnât even realize that Optimus wasnât offering some form of Olive Branch or forgiveness) but itâs clear to me Optimus had already given up on his best friend. There was no going back to what they had. But at the same time, part of Optimus desperately wants Megatron to understand why he also chose to let go.
âWe couldâve built the future together.â
âWe were given the power to change our world but you chose to destroy it, just like Sentinel. You betrayed cybertron and its citizens. And you betrayed⊠me.â
âIt didnât have to end this way.â
Yet as always, Megatron refuses to take any of the blame.
âThis isnât over⊠Prime.â
Optimus even had an internal monologue about it. The conflict is key. He acknowledges the line between friend and foe can be blurry but is adamant that once itâs crossed, there can be no going back.
âThe line between friend and enemy is not as clear as I once believed. Once itâs crossed, there is no going back, because some transformations are permanent.â
This line is especially fun to think about with Earthsparkâs existence. Yes, they are separate continuities, but regardless, it proves Optimus in Transformers One IS WRONG. People can change. They can see they screwed up and try to make amends. It is possible for Megatron to do this.
Whether or not TF One Optimus is willing to give his Megatron another chance should said Megatron ever see the error in his ways is another layer to this. One that, if a sequel of some kind is ever made, I hope they explore.
Granted that would mean this Megs would need a LOT of character development, but Iâd love to see him realized he messed up and then Optimus is the one that acts cold in response and has to warm up to the idea of forgiving Megs.
I would love to explore this in a fanfic. But I am both lazy and lack wider knowledge of this franchise and its characters. And unlike Star Trek I donât feel confident enough to fake it till I make it. So Iâll just think of various scenarios in my head.
#transformers one#megatron#transformers one spoilers#tf one#optimus prime#tf one spoilers#d16#orion pax#transformers#megop#transformers earthspark#transformers analysis#tf one analysis#transformers one analysis
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jeffs attraction to annie is only caused because annie is a girl that actually acts like she likes him unlike britta who acts like she doesnt and annies attraction to jeff is only caused by her comphet and she likes him to fit in . jeffannie sucks ass
#shui talks#nbc community#redstreet is infinitely better#theres no weird agegap and they honestly have better chemistry than annie and jeff#because their relationship has internal conflicts#whereas jeff//annie has only external conflicts because it should realistically NEVER HAPPEN !!!
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that man does NOT think of wei wuxian as his gege
#jiang cheng#wwx#twin prides#i have a whole post about how they both think of themselves as having an older-sibling role#but even if that wasn't true jc still always calls him by his full name and the one time wwx tried to call him shidi jc yelled at him#their relationship is not that simple! it's a huge thing that wwx occupies a weird in-between role in their family!#he's definitely not a servant but also definitely not a full member of their family and that's super important to the story!#even if jc WANTED to think of him as his older brother he would need to get past seven layers of trauma to even realize he wanted that#and then he would have to admit it to himself and then work up the courage to admit it to someone else#and even then he probably still wouldn't say it to wwx's face#sure yanli calls wwx her didi but things are much simpler from her point of view#plus she's one of those people - like lxc - that can hold an opinion deep inside herself and be at peace with it even if it conflicts +#+ with what the world says and what she's been brought up to believe#jc is not like that. he internalizes way more from the outside world and if he feels conflicted he just kind of implodes#he's spent his whole life being told that wwx is not his equal and is someone to compete against#and also secretly believing that wwx is eventually going to abandon him because he doesn't think anyone truly cares for him#plus wwx treats him like a bff who is also a liege lord rather than a beloved younger brother#he would Not form a secure attachment to wwx lmao#it also really annoys me that when people write/conceptualize him as someone who thinks of wwx as his real gege +#+ they tend to completely erase jyl and minimize her importance to jc. he HAS an older sibling who he trusts unconditionally and confides +#+ in and takes comfort from! that person already exists! and they ignore her in favor of the protagonist#it also really bugs me when they have him mourning wwx those whole 13-16 years but don't put in a single word about yanli#this kind of turned into a rant about jyl... i have a lot of feelings about her especially since i'm the oldest sibling in my family#anyway. that man does not think of wwx as his gege#haterade#(kind of)
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Rose's Kiss Week Day 5: Lonely
OCs: Marcus Asalun (aka Anchesh Pabat) and Gren Orech-Pabat
Words: 1335
Content warnings: mentions of family health issues
Notes: this takes place six months after Anchesh married his last spouse, human himbo Gren.
At the other end of the sofa, Gren sighed for the tenth time in as many minutes. Â He was staring off at the other end of the room, chin propped up in one big hand, and more than likely didnât even realize he sounded so despondent. Â
âHow are you doing?â Anchesh asked.
âIâm fine. Â Itâs just lonely without Yera.â
Probably it was best not to talk too much about Yera, because Gren would only get sadder if he started thinking about why Yera was out of town and how stressed she must be. Â Instead Anchesh put aside his knitting. Â
âIâm probably not as good at cuddling as Yera,â he said, moving to the cushion next to Gren, âbut Iâm here.â
Gren instantly pivoted and deflated into his lap, settling one cheek against his thigh and a hand over his knee. Â Today Grenâs hair was held in a bunlike fold with just an alligator clip, which Anchesh gently pulled out and set on the open cushion beside him. Â Then he combed his fingers back through Grenâs loose locks.
âI feel bad being lonely,â Gren murmured. Â âHer family needs her way more than I do, and Iâm not alone here.â
âYouâre her family too,â Anchesh answered in the same low tone. Â âAnd it doesnât feel the same, not having her here.â
âYeah.â Â Gren squeezed his leg a little, like he needed something to cling to. Â
Anchesh let Grenâs hair slip through his fingers over and over, massaging Grenâs scalp with each draw. Â Truth be told, he was worried about Yera too. Â She would be fine, unless her father got worse. Â He probably wouldnât die, not yet, but the wondering and waiting felt unsettling enough for him at homeâit must be awful for her. Â She was right to have the rest of them stay behind, except Hossan, because sooner or later theyâd all be at loose ends and end up making her feel worse. Â But he still wished he could be there to hold her and talk to her, probably just the same as Gren. Â
âMaybe I donât spend enough time with the rest of you,â Gren said suddenly. Â âEspecially you.â
âI donât mind how much time you spend with Yera and Hossan,â Anchesh answered.
âYeah, butââ Gren rose from his lap, slowly enough that he didnât pull his own hair in Ancheshâs hands. Â With his hair pushed behind his ears, he said, âIâm your husband too. Â And you donât get tired of me like Pali does. Â I would leave you alone if you wanted me to but youâve never told me to do that.â
Anchesh handed him the alligator clip. Â âI mean, Iâm happy to spend more time with you. Â I just donât want you to worry too much about it.â
Gren stared at nothing while he smoothed his hair back into a ponytail and clipped it there. Â Then he continued looking at some spot further down the sofa. Â âAnchesh...do you love me?â
It was a serious question that deserved a serious answer, but Anchesh was distracted by the plaintiveness of Grenâs voice. Â Had this been worrying him for the last six months? Â
Gren waited two seconds before adding, âNot like you love Yera or Umedes, but...â
He took Grenâs hand from his lap, and Gren looked up. Â âI do love you, Gren. Â Youâre my friend. Â And my husband. Â And Iâm glad I married you.â
âReally?â Â He didnât seem entirely convinced.
âReally. Â I would have married you just for Yera and Hossan, but I like having you around too. Â Youâre so bright, and lovely, and you always make sure we have what we need. Â Andââ
âI think Pali does that.â
âPali doesnât keep everyone upbeat,â Anchesh said. Â âAnd sheâs definitely not good at making sure we all rest, especially not herself. Â I think sheâs gotten more sleep in the six months youâve been here than she has since I married her.â Â Gren didnât say anything, so he kept going. Â âWe need someone whoâs as thoughtful as you are. Â I need someone who is.â Â An almost melancholy gratitude welled up in him, and he tried to figure out how to put words to it. Â He wasnât sure that Gren understood how much he made life more bearable. Â He wasnât sure any of his spouses did, even though he didnât know where heâd be without them. Â He loved all of them, and he needed all of them, and on some level he needed Gren, the only one who wasnât at least a little wrapped up in politics and particularities, most of all. Â He put his other hand over Grenâs. Â âYou mean a lot to me, Gren.â
âDo you think you could say that more? Â Not that, but like, âI love youâ?â
When was the last time heâd told Gren he loved him? Â Even if he didnât remember exactly, he had a feeling it had been days, or weeks. Â Heâd decided without thinking about it that Gren didnât really need to hear it, and he definitely didnât need to hear it from him, arguably Grenâs least favorite spouse aside from Pali. Â
âOf course I can,â he said, rubbing his thumb over the back of Grenâs hand. Â âIâm sorry I havenât said it very much.â
âItâs okay.â Â Gren put his other hand on top of Ancheshâs. Â Then he dropped his cheek against Ancheshâs shoulder. Â
âYou know you can always tell me about your feelings,â Anchesh said.
âYou donât tell me about yours,â Gren said. Â âExcept in bed, kinda.â
âDo you want to know about my feelings?â
âYes!â Â Gren lifted his head and his face was all exasperation. Â âI know I donât understand all of the things you do but I can understand how you feel!â
âMost of my feelings arenât good.â Â And it would be cruel to burden someone like Gren with them.
âI still want to know,â Gren said. Â âI just want to be there for you, but I never know whatâs going on with you.â
Heâd given up on being there for Gren because it was obvious Gren didnât need him, and he couldnât keep track of the constantly shifting world he lived in with Yera and Hossan. Â âWhile Yera and Hossan are gone, maybe we should focus on that. Â Being there for each other.â
âIâd like that.â Â Grenâs eyes fell to their hands, and Anchesh thought he could see a blush rising in his cheeks. Â âIâd also like to kiss you more.â
âYou can kiss me whenever you want.â Â He felt like he meant that the most of anything heâd said so far. Â Gren raised his head and went straight to softly touching his lips to Ancheshâs, his mustache tickling at Ancheshâs smooth-shaven upper lip.
On the next kiss his hand caressed the curve of Ancheshâs neck, and then he untangled his other hand from Ancheshâs and threw both arms around his neck, and when that apparently wasnât enough he broke the kiss and fully straddled Ancheshâs thighs, hunching a little to reach his lips. Â Anchesh tilted his head further back in turn, feeling the pleasant tension of his horns pressing against the back of the sofa. Â Despite his position, Gren didnât seem like he was trying to be seductive. Â He kissed Anchesh to savor him, like he was fresh water on Grenâs parched tongue, a tongue carefully exploring the contours of Ancheshâs. Â He was in no rush, and his skin was warm against Ancheshâs where they touched, Grenâs feet pressed against his knees, hands along the edge of his neckline, soft lips drinking him in. Â Anchesh let his hands run back over Grenâs thighs, his hips, to the bare, fuzzy skin at his midriff, and held on there. Â
When Gren pulled back at long last, his breath was edged with gasps, and so was Ancheshâs.
âI love you, Anchesh. Â I love you so much.â
Without a word, they pulled each other close, Anchesh wrapping his arms around Grenâs back as he leaned forward to press his cheek against Grenâs shoulder.
âI love you too, Gren.â
RKW taglist: @vacantgodling @jezifster @kk7-rbs
#spoiler alert: Yera's father does not die and is still alive when Anchesh returns from Rade years later#Yera comes back and is like âwhat have you two been up to hmmâ and they're like âliterally we just talked about our feelingsâ#as I was writing this I had this realization that Anchesh and Gren are givers but for two different reasons and this brings them conflict#Gren is just Like That. his whole identity is based around giving. it comes with the himbo archetype#but also he doesn't see any reason to be selfish. he is fundamentally a lover in the same way Tatya is#Anchesh on the other hand would still absolutely be a kind person if he wasn't traumatized but his giving is defined by that trauma#he gives because he doesn't want to be like his mother. doesn't want to make his internal life everyone else's problem#but he also has been taught by his mother that his only value is in what he can give and how he can support other people's needs (hers)#so he minimizes himself expertly. even when he shouldn't. because it's kinder not to be outwardly depressed - right?#because it's better not to be the burden that he knows he is - right?#I didn't intend for these scenes to trace Anchesh's descent into further depression#but like. it's kind of hard not to trace that line. it informs so much about his relationships and what he struggles with in them#anyway ren here's a feast lol#c: Marcus#c: Gren#wip: iecunem#rose brambles#rose's kiss week#rose writ
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Shakes the bars of my cage I need to draw soooo bad I need to draw I need to draw let me draw I have to draw I need to draw I must draw (<- has been too sick to be on electronics much and doesn't like doing traditional art)
#rat rambles#Im starting to feel better tho Im betting within a day or two Ill have made a full recovery#but I just have so many things I wanna draw all the sudden and its killing me#its because I've been thinking abt ocs again and that gives me a lot more options lol#in particular I've been thinking abt marci and toon more again recently#its just the two of them flirting in their mutual workplace environment with toon being dead serious and marci doing it ironically#the main thing is that marci was rly under the impression that toon like. hated her and was taunting her since they're friends with loonie#who long story short is marci's ex childhood best friend who she fell out with after the death of loonie's mom#the two are not on good terms in the slightest and marci knows very well that loonie would want her dead if she had been more honest#so as toon starts to like get more casual and like genuine with marci as the two spend more time together marci warms up somewhat but still#doesn't rly see toon as a friendly figure until they take her out to a museum and marci kind of snaps a bit and asks toon to stop beating#around the bush and is caught off guard when toon seems genuinely kind of hurt and meekly explains that they were just trying to help her#because she had seemed rly stressed and sad all the time and they thought that their lil dates had been helping her relax a bit#that confrontation left marci initially feeling confused but after the initial shock she was mostly left with a sense of dread and guilt#partially because she had just snapped at someone who she had grown to care abt for no reason and partially because she now felt that she#was hiding stuff from toon that would cause them to change their mind on her immediately if they knew#aka that she and loonie are divorced and that she thinks its mom sucked absolute ass (which she did)#oh and also that she used to have a crush on the guy that killed its mom who was also his mom which is also the reason she hates said mom#said mom treated him (aka midas) like shit and tried to get him killed several times#so when all hell broke loose marci at the end ended up mourning midas much more than his mom who everyone else was mourning#including loonie since it actually had a very positive relationship with its mom and a very distant relationship from its siblings#now marci never admitted all of this to anyone but she did act on those feelings to eventually lash out at loonie causing a huge fight#basically she yelled at it for being pushy and clingy and forcing her into a job she didnt want and expecting her to solve all its problems#the two dont necessarily hate eachother but they definitely heavily resent eachother#they still often long for eachothers companionship but not nearly enough for either to wanna make ammends#so toon quite liking both of them causes some internal conflict for the both of them#loonie is fully aware that toon has a big ol crush on marci but doesnt stop them from being friends with her even if it makes it sad#and marci rly wishes that toon wasnt friends with loonie but feels guilty for feeling that way#its a complicated situation and one that rly isn't helped by the fact that one of the three has the dead god queen mom#loonie could get away with a Lot and everyone knows it
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Kfkdks
#messages from knave#im making breakfast and im gonna list my observations from three years of weird living situations#younger siblings of big age gaps will see most interactions as a form of soft combat until trained out of it#but when actual clmbat happens they're used to not having any sway so they don't actually know how to act in arguments#siblings with codependent relationships have their own internal langauge that they apply to others. not sure if they realize they do it#but they'll hold you to the same rules they've mentally created for each other without explaining them#siblings of ALL stripes will approach situations with a set idea of how communication works. and even if it's not a logical way to communica#they'll expect you to also communicate in that way. and if you can't or refuse they'll shut down and communication stalls completely because#they can't fathom doing it any other way except the way they and their siblings socialized each other to do it#siblings with adversarial relationships don't take outside advice and will take attempts to give advice as manipulative. not their fault#oldest siblings are the most conflict averse people on the planet. oldest sinlings say#'is anyone gonna balloon this situation out of proportion by avoiding it for as long as possible' and not wait for an answer#siblings who were regularly appointed as hall monitors will see any interaction with you as transactional#a hallmark of a dysfunctional sibljng relationship is someone who thinks telling you NO is worse than going through a situation they do not#wanna be in. and then they'll complain about it endlessly#and then they'll be like 'i don't want favours from my parents because they'll hold it over me' and never make the connection on their own#people cannot anticipate your needs with their minds. they are sometimes going to ask you to be a part of things you don't wanna#you're NEVER gonna be able to live in a world where people will stop asking you to be a part of things that's not feasible#had one say once 'people should just know not to ask me along for plans I can't get to people should know not to invite me'#and you know dude that's just now how stuff works. there's a difference between 'x cant drive so they can't help me move my dresser' and#'i know xs work schedule so i shouldnt infomr them of group plansnon the off chance they could make it so they don't feel left out'#people with hyper competitive siblings can't fathom that other people won't know how to do stuff. i don't just mean athletes but siblings#with that scarcity mindsetnin general like they can't handle people not having the same knowledge base they have. it's a survival thing#and NO having a life of suffering doesn't make you correct all the time has literally anyone else watched heathers#youngest siblings always have the most deranged dating stories and the oldest in a set of age gap siblings always has the WORST taste in men#< that's directed at my sister and no one else that's a personal diss not a real observation#only children have one thing. theyre SUPER weird about splitting the grocery bill#food is NOT communal to only children I've learned firsthand. Also they'll be perfectly fine sharing anything else BUT food usually#weed. loans. bathroom supplies. dishes. ect. but NOT food#meanwhile sibljngs are a little TOO comfortable chowing down on stuff they didn't buy. bad roommates are bad roommates
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Some Tips for writing internal conflict
Wanting Two Things at Once Imagine your character really wants to chase after something big, like a dream school, a major opportunity, or maybe even moving to a new city. But at the same time, theyâre terrified of leaving behind everything theyâve ever known. Or maybe theyâre in a relationship thatâs holding them back, but they canât bring themselves to let go. Show them getting pulled in two directions, torn between their ambition and their fear of losing the people or places that ground them.
Right vs. Wrong Sometimes, your character will know deep down what the right choice is, but itâs the most difficult one to make. Like, maybe they see someone getting bullied and know they should stand up, but doing so could make them a target. Or maybe they have to decide between helping a friend and doing something that could ruin their own future. These moral dilemmas create intense internal conflict because it forces them to question who they are and what they stand for.
Doubting Themselves We all have moments where we wonder if weâre enough, smart enough, strong enough, brave enough. Let your character wrestle with that same doubt. Maybe theyâre the kid who has always been told theyâre special, but now theyâre in a place where everyone is just as good, and they start to wonder if they even belong. Or maybe theyâve been through something tough, and theyâre not sure if they can bounce back. These moments of insecurity make your character feel human, like theyâre trying to figure it all out, just like everyone else.
Dreams vs. Fears Show your character dreaming big but getting frozen by their own fears. Itâs like wanting to ask someone out but being terrified of rejection, or wanting to move away for college but being scared to leave home. Let them imagine all the things that could go wrong , that moment when fear makes them doubt if they should even try. But also show their desire burning just as strong, making it impossible to ignore. Thatâs the heart of internal conflict: theyâre stuck between wanting something so bad and being afraid of what itâll cost to go after it.
Beliefs Being Challenged As your character grows, the world will start challenging their beliefs. Maybe they grew up in a family that drilled certain values into them, and now theyâre meeting people who see things differently. Or maybe theyâre experiencing something new, and itâs changing their perspective. Itâs like when you think you have everything figured out, and then life throws something at you that makes you go, "Wait, maybe Iâve been wrong this whole time." This kind of internal conflict is powerful because it forces the character to question who theyâve always been.
Keeping Secrets If your character is hiding something, like a mistake they made, feelings theyâre afraid to admit, or a truth they donât want to face, that secret becomes a huge part of their internal conflict. The fear of being found out or of dealing with the consequences can create a constant pressure in their mind. Maybe theyâre scared theyâll lose their friends if the truth comes out, or maybe theyâre dealing with guilt they canât shake. The tension comes from their battle to keep it hidden while knowing they canât keep it locked away forever.
Pressure from Everyone Your character might feel like theyâre trapped between what they want for themselves and what everyone else wants from them. It could be pressure from parents, who have their whole future planned out, or pressure from friends to fit in or follow the crowd. Maybe your character wants to be true to themselves, but theyâre scared of disappointing people or standing out too much. This kind of internal conflict is super relatable because, at some point, everyone feels like theyâre stuck between living for themselves and living for others.
Fear of Failing Sometimes the biggest obstacle isnât the external challenge but the internal fear of failure. Your character might have big dreams, but theyâre paralyzed by the thought of messing up. Whether itâs competing in a sport, performing on stage, or just trying something new, the fear of not being good enough can be overwhelming. Maybe theyâre afraid that if they fail, everyone will see them differently, or worse, that theyâll see themselves differently. The internal conflict comes from their desire to succeed battling against their crippling fear of failure.
#writing#writerscommunity#writer on tumblr#writing tips#character development#writing advice#oc character#writing help#writer tumblr#writblr#writing prompt#novel writing#creating ocs
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Regardless of how angry Evan is at K, however much unresolved conflict they have from their relationship, whatever heâs contending with internally in response to what they said about him, Evan loves K.
He didnât hesitate. Boudicca attacked K and before they hit the ground, Evan breaks his wand and turns off all the lights in Boudiccaâs brain. Hesitation gets you killed. Half measures get you killed. Heâs lived his life in survival mode. He knows that if you donât act decisively and severely you get hurt because it gives your attacker an opportunity. Take no chances. Your life depends on you fighting and winning. So you fight in a way that assures your opponent canât fight back or get back up and try to hurt you again. Itâs not a schoolyard brawl or a sparring session or an organized bout. Thereâs no such thing as honour or rules. Thereâs only life and death. Only survival. Anything else but ruthless efficiency is a waste you cannot afford.
Boudicca shouldâve known that about Evan. As a teen he fought a full adult in a gas station parking lot. He already sees her as a threat but is willing to show restraint because there are bigger issues. But the second she shows him what she truly is and cannot help but be, it activates the keen animal instinct of survival. He loves K. Attacking what he loves is an attack on him. And all of life has taught him to meet any mortal danger with equally deadly force. She shouldâve known. Her arrogance got her killed.
#dimension 20#d20#mismag#MisMag 2#misfits and magic#misfits and magic 2#misfits and magic 2 spoilers#MisMag 2 spoilers#evan kelmp#k tanaka#boudicca philtrum#hey there centaurs#I wrote this at 6:30 am#I wake up thinking about this goddamn show
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ok sorry I just have to yell about this real quick -
Nightwing (Vol. 2) #139 - The Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul, part 6 Dick: "I let you make the choice for yourself...because I knew you'd make the right one."
Dick didn't know shit, lmao!! "Because I knew you'd make the right one" my ass lol.
Let's rewind two minutes shall we:
Dick: "Tim... Listen... There are no easy answers... But you have the right to make the choice for yourself." || Dick (internal narration): "No-win. If I stop him, I don't trust him. If he goes through with it, I shouldn't have trusted him. C'mon, Tim..."
He doesn't know what choice Tim is going to make, whether his grief will overcome him and he'll take the Lazarus water or not, and has in fact been physically fighting Tim this entire issue to stop him by force. But ultimately he knows it's Tim's right to choose for himself, and decides to hope, and have faith in his brother.
And he has that faith rewarded, and reaffirms it afterward, despite the fact that he wasn't sure.
And paralleling that moment of "yes of course I knew you had it":
Red Robin (2009) #12 Dick: "How'd you know? How did you know I'd be there to save you?" || Tim: "You're my brother, Dick. You'll always be there for me."
TIM DIDN'T KNOW SHIIIIIIIIT HGKLJDKFLSD
At least not consciously! Being caught by Dick is certainly not something he planned for, as he seems to be trying to imply.
Again, rewind:
Tim (internal narration): "I did it. I saved the people he loved. I saved everything he worked so hard to build. No compromises. He won't say anything, he never does. But I know. I know that Bruce will be proud of me. Not a bad day." || Tim: (in the midst of pASSING TF OUT) || Dick: (swoops in and catches him)
Tim may not have actually known that Dick would be there. But that catch... A falling Tim being caught by Dick is a motif that occurs over and over and over across the years of their relationship. Why do I feel like there's a part of Tim, faint as he faded out, and much stronger when he woke up, that went, "Oh, it's Dick - of course if it was anyone, I knew it would be Dick"?
After their conflicts and miscommunications in this arc, after Tim sweeping back into town and explaining not a single thing as he races to thwart Ra's, despite Dick's frustrated pleas, after cutting Dick off with a simple, "Batman...trust me," and Dick's responding, "Of course"....
Tim feeling like he knew, even if he didn't know, or plan, or expect. Because that's his brother. And choosing to express that trust, after Dick chose to trust him...
Just. Dick and Tim. Verbally reaffirming their faith in each other, even after in-the-moment doubts. BROTHERS. My emotions.
#Dick and Tim#Dick Grayson#Tim Drake#dcu#batfam#Cam posts#Resurrection of Ra's al Ghul#Red Robin#Nightwing#Batman#hmmmm should I have a tag for Dick!Bats?#Dick!Bats#DC Comics panels#DC meta#Cam reads comics
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been seeing some stuff on blue eye samurai and big yikes to nearly everyone pushing extremely western ideals onto these characters.
this is early edo period. 1600s. the japan you know now did not exist yet.
yall. please. there was NO concept of sexuality in pre-modern japan. that came with both the influx of christianity and western influence very very late in history. like, mid-1800s. (yes, there was christianity pre-1800s but it was not a widespread idea yet and wouldn't be until about the 1800s since, y'know, missionaries were routinely murdered before then)
"so and so is either bi and hasn't figured it out yet or..." no. that isn't how it worked then. nobody gave a shit what was between your legs. anyone could be attracted to anyone else. it was a little more common for male homosexual relationships to be between an adult and younger male - like many other places around the world - but two adult men could bang and love each other just as easily. relationships between women were quite common - especially since so many men were often away at war. there's tons of pornographic prints from the time depicting all manner of fun queer relationships. sex itself had absolutely no moral assignment to it. good sex was good health. it didn't matter who with. (well, social class/caste mattered more than anything else tbh but that didn't stop upper and lower class from fucking.) that isn't to say people didn't have preferences. of course they did. that is human nature. preferences arose more from physical appearance, caste, and circumstances with gender being about the last thing one would look for in a partner - romantic, casual, or otherwise. the only role in sex where gender actually mattered was for procreation.
there would be no queer awakening moment, no sudden switch flipped, no stigma to have internal conflicts about because it simply did not exist as a concept whatsoever. you were either attracted to a person or you weren't, it was that simple. gender played no role when it came to sex and sexual attraction. the japanese were lightyears ahead of western cultures in this particular area - like most cultures were before christianity came in and ruined everything with its backwards morals and strict good/evil dichotomy.
yall have got to realize queer rep will not and should not always adhere by modern western standards. there was no straight, gay, bi, or anything else of the sort. the closest they ever got was referring to roles during sex - as in who is giving and who is receiving.
i know this is mostly a made up story but it is still set within a very specific time period and culture, which should be honored and respected by not making it fit into our box. tons of research went into making this show historically accurate (albeit with some discrepancies but tbh they aren't really that huge) right down to the calligraphy writing. please please please don't whitewash the culture from these characters.
i say this mainly because without this knowledge, so many of you are going to build these characters up on a foundation they aren't meant to be on and then you'll rage about queerbaiting and bad queer rep if it isn't somehow super explicitly stated, if it doesn't match your very modern, very western ideal of what queer looks like. don't try to force this plot and narrative and characters into something they canonically and historically aren't. headcanons are a thing, AUs are a thing, fanfiction is a thing - leave your western thinking for those and let these characters simply exist as they should otherwise. this is one of those times where the queerness really does not need to be examined at all beyond what we get.
i know it can be hard to wrap your head around - sexuality is such a huge part of our identity in the western world and has slowly started to spread amongst other parts of the world in importance. but just keep in mind with these particular characters, that concept would be so very alien to them.
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just finished my rewatch of season 1 of teen wolf and I have many thoughts but the one at the forefront of my mind right now is that I can't believe we spent more than half the runtime of the season devoted to the most boring ass bland unseasoned couple that is scallison when sterek was right there
#like literally they are so fucking boring#which i guess goes with the teen half of the premise of the show#in that i have little interest in seeing a couple who has no internal conflict within their relationship#like they get along too well y'know? so they're super boring to watch because their only conflict is external#they are unfortunately soulmates but in the boring way that's not fun to watch but would probably be great irl#teen wolf rewatch
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Honestly I've never had a bigger want to become a movie director than when thinking about making a Frankenstein adaptation THAT ACTUALLY KEEPS EVERYTHING INTERESTING ABOUT THE SOURCE MATERIAL
I daydream about this
I NEED an adaptation that actually goes into it. Show the fucked up family stuff while Victor narrates it aa idyllic, SHOW VICTOR BEING 19-21 WHILE MAKING THE CREATURE, show the Creature learning to speak from the Delaceys, show his worldview being entirely shaped by paradise lost and the ONE romantic relationship he saw giving him the bride idea, show Victor being ill, disabled, traumatized, go into his internal conflict, show the fucked up nature of Justine's trial, how Victor becomes more aware that he'll be perceived as crazy if he speaks up every second of it, how the law is corrupt and sentences by a judge can have been coerced and say nothing about the moral standing of the victim, especially when also bringing religion into the mix, how the law continues to be fucked when Victor is jailed after Henry's death, a shell of a man he used to be, and taken out by his father because he has influence, show Victor's bond with Henry, with Elizabeth, explore the messy and disturbing relationship of Victor and Elizabeth where they always saw each other as siblings but were also promised to one another by Caroline ever since Elizabeth arrived, how Caroline manipulated Elizabeth to basically relive her own trauma, how her dying wish left them tied into something that neither of them expresses real want for in the whole book
THERE'S SO FUCKING MUCH
#I would do like a one season series if I could just to really go deep into all of this#Frankenstein#victor Frankenstein#henry clerval#elizabeth lavenza#frankenstein's creature#frankenstein's monster#justine moritz#alphonse Frankenstein#caroline Frankenstein#Frankenstein 1818#gothic literature
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insomniac | ljh (m)
there are certainly worse ways to tire yourself out.
summary: itâs 2:00 am, and you canât turn your brain off. thankfully, your boyfriend knows just how to scramble it. pairing: lee jihoon x reader au: established relationship type: one-shot (smut) word count: 5.2k rating: 18+ cw: reader is afab but no pronouns are used; reader has insomnia (unspecified re: prof. diagnosed or self-diagnosed); thereâs a sentence about reader taking âan inadvisable amount of melatonin gummiesâ â donât do this! â but theyâre not impaired in any way; readerâs internal monologue is kind of angsty/self-deprecating at times; blonde!woozi has his hair in a bun, which is a warning in and of itself; completely unedited because my perfectionism has killed every wip iâve attempted for months. â° minors do not have my consent to interact with me and/or my work. smut warnings: big dick lee jihoonâąïž, nipple stim, v fingering, unprotected p in v penetration, wee bit of aftercare. there are a total of six (6) orgasms in here because i believe in going big from home, incl. nipple stim & a-spot orgasms. a/n: i havenât written anything in forever, due in large part to the fact that iâm exhausted but can never fucking sleep. i truly hope this isnât incoherent garbage. đ”âđ« dedicated to my fellow woozi-simping insomniac, @sailorrhansol. may we eventually rest in peace. multi permanent taglist. seventeen permanent taglist.
You should be asleep.
With the day youâve had, you shouldâve drifted off the second your body hit the sheets; and you shouldâve stayed that way â unmoving, unconscious â for several hours, at minimum.
If the weekâs worth of sleep debt wasnât exhausting enough in and of itself, every single circumstance surrounding you begs you to give into the weight of your eyelids. To let yourself be lulled, just this once. Soothed.
From the vent in the corner, the gentle hum of the aircon goads you. It does its very best to convince you to curl up under the softness of your comforter, and to some extent, youâve listened. Youâre burrowed beneath your blankets with only the upper half of your face exposed, which should be more than enough to sway you.Â
Itâs not, though.
With no ability to keep your eyes closed, you stare dejectedly at the wall in front of you. Laying on your side, gazing straight ahead, you watch the faint echoes of the city lights as they wash over white paint. Not much bleeds through the blinds, leaving only hints of cobalt and red to blend into some sleepy shade of lilac. Whether or not you want to be awake to perceive it in the first place, you have to admit it: itâs beautiful.
But itâs not enough.
You squeeze your eyes shut, swallowing down the groan building in your chest. With how closely heâs got you nestled against his body, Jihoon would feel it if you let that frustration manifest. You already ache from the sheer amount of time youâve been policing your own posture; making any amount of noise now would interrupt the slow, delicate breaths heâs aiming into the back of your neck. Frankly, youâd rather die.
Taking his silence as a sign that youâve remained off his radar, you let out a measured sigh, too worried that the full rise and fall of your chest will disturb him.Â
Nothing.
But then, the arm draped over your waist shifts.Â
âFuck,â you mouth to no one.
It wouldnât be out-of-character for Jihoon to feel the restless energy pouring out of you in waves, even in the depths of a sleep cycle. He senses every tiny change in your ecosystem long before you do. As unlikely as he is to ever admit it, it has to be exhausting to be attuned to someone so neurotic. He deserves every second of sleep he can manage to get.
You grit your teeth and demand yourself to calm down, all while refusing to acknowledge how completely your actions and commands conflict. Â
Maybe, you attempt to bamboozle yourself, you can sleep vicariously through him.Â
Heâll wake up rested, and when you look in the mirror later, the first thing you see wonât be the cartoonish bags under your eyes.
Itâll be fine.Â
Itâll be fine.
If you go to sleep right now, youâll get five hours and thirty â
âYou havenât unclenched a single muscle since you climbed into bed,â notes the worldâs groggiest voice from over your shoulder.
Jihoonâs lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck when he speaks. Without that tickling sensation, you mightâve deluded yourself into thinking that you were simply hearing things just now. That it was merely a hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation and the inadvisable number of melatonin gummies you ate before brushing your teeth.
He shifts again. This time, thereâs no mistaking his movements. The arm slung over your side pulls you closer. So close, in fact, that you can feel the contented sigh leave his body, like his isnât separate from yours at all.
With the distance erased, his face â the cold tip of his nose and the sheet-creased warmth of his cheeks â can nuzzle properly into the crook of your neck. You swear you feel the hint of a smile there somewhere, too. If you had to guess, it matches the upward curve on your lips.
âWhat are we spinning our wheels over tonight?â He asks without a hint of judgment, as if your burdens are automatically his, too.
The fact that he canât see your face doesnât stop you from frowning. Yet again, youâve managed to drag him into your insomnia. Jihoon may never fault you for it, but you donât need him to. Youâll hold it against yourself â grudge by proxy.Â
âI donât even know,â you admit with a frustrated huff. âThereâs nothing coherent going on up there.â You lift your hand and gesture vaguely in the dark. âNothing articulable, just⊠blender brain.â
âMmm.â
Jihoon sounds so fucking sleepy, so at peace next to you, that it makes your stomach hurt. You wish you could be like him. For as calm as his presence makes you, youâve learned that youâre incapable of feeling fully relaxed. At least, not in the way he is when heâs got his arms around you. He deserves to have that effect on you.
A beat passes in silence, save for his soft breathing. For a minute, youâre convinced that heâs fallen back asleep; and you pray to whoever that he has. He deserves that, too.
âHow do we unplug the blender?â
You have to bite back a smile for two reasons: the way his words sound slurred when delivered directly to your skin, and the distinctly Jihoon drive he has to fix a problem that isnât his.
When the love sickness leaves you down bad, and you forget to respond with words, Jihoon prompts you softly. âHmm?âÂ
He punctuates this reminder with a kiss to your shoulder, then lets his lips linger against your skin, musing, âI can think of two things that usually do the trick: getting you hotteok from that cart down the block, which is currently closed, and ââ
The rest of that thought fades out. Leaving you on the edge of your seat, Jihoon continues to kiss a languid line along the perimeter of your shoulder, as if heâs conducting some meticulous, geographical survey. Like missing a single spot will have grave consequences. A perfectionist through and through, even half-asleep.
You feel yourself melting, bit by bit, into his torso; the warmth of his bare chest against your back only expedites the process. Nevertheless, you peep, âWhatâs the second thing?â
His answer comes with a slip of his hand, down down down along the slope of your waist to your hip, long before he verbalizes it. Itâs simple, delivered in that rough, early-morning voice you love so much. Itâs more than enough to make you shiver:
âMaking you cum.â
But as crazy as that statement makes you, you canât make yourself act on it.
At any other time, youâd jump on that opportunity â jump on him â in a heartbeat. All youâre able to do now is jump to the worst conclusion in a single bound.Â
Somewhere, deep down, you know he wouldnât have brought it up if he didnât truly want it, want you; but that goddamned, sleep-deprived goblin taking up space in the far reaches of your mind is far louder than the voice of reason.
Heâs only offering so youâll stop keeping him awake.
Heâs as exhausted as you are, if not more so for having to deal with your disorder again.
Burden.
Placing your hand on top of his, you slip your fingers into the spaces you find and squeeze once for emphasis. âI love you,â you start. He stills. âBut, Jihoon, youâre so tired. I can hear it in your voice. Please, go back to sleep. Itâs okay â Iâm okay.â
Jihoon doesnât push back. He stays within bounds, honors your shitty decision because, after all, itâs yours to make. With another kiss to your shoulder and a squeeze to your hand, he murmurs, âLove you,â before relaxing back against the pillows.
Minutes pass.
Maybe hours, for all you know.Â
As the window of opportunity creaks shut, regret seeps through the gap. You know youâre wrong; you know he meant it; and you know that someone would have to be out of their fucking gourd to politely decline what heâs offering.
The unbearable heat licking up your neck is either embarrassment or the ghost of orgasms lost coming to haunt you.
Maybe youâd be better equipped to tell the difference if you could just â fucking â sleep.
Driven half mad, you try to keep from squirming.
You fail.
Maybe, since you canât sleep, you and your wilted little brain shouldâve let your perfect, empathetic boyfriend fu â
âThatâs enough,â Jihoon grunts.
The hand underneath yours is suddenly above it, overtaking it and tugging carefully until your whole body moves. In the time it takes for you to roll from your side, Jihoon sits up and clears space for your frame to settle. You barely have time to blink dumbly up at him from your back before he cages you in with one hand on either side of your head, knees now on either side of your thighs.
Your breath seems to have gotten lost in the fray, but itâs not the sudden moves that shook it loose; itâs the sight of him looming over you, damn near scowling despite his lead-lidded eyes. Itâs the disheveled bun of platinum hair at the crown of his head, which mustâve shifted in his sleep and spilled out the tendrils that now frame his set jaw.
The very best you can come up with is, âYouâre awake.â
âSo are you,â he retorts without missing a beat.
That face â god, that face â doesnât budge. On the contrary, your stomach flips. This the most stern youâve ever seen him. Confusingly, his tone isnât even remotely harsh when he continues, âIf those gears in your head grind any louder, the whole neighborhood will be, too.â
Grimacing, you open your mouth to apologize, but Jihoonâs eyes are searching your face with a distinct flicker of concern. You know that look. You also know that nothing you can think to say will make it disappear.
He speaks when you donât, hard edges softening slightly. âI can fix it,â he insists, though you know him well enough to hear the plea hidden in there.Â
Let me take care of you.
That little spark of desperation burns you up in a flash. You wonder if he can feel the fire spread when he lifts his right hand off the mattress just to swipe his thumb slowly over the edge of your cheekbone. Without thinking, you let go of the tension in your neck. Your head tilts automatically, seeking comfort youâve only ever found in him, and rests against his palm.
âI have to admit it, though,â Jihoon confesses. âYours isnât the only mind thatâs restless.â
He moves his hand away from your face but keeps his eyes trained on you. The incessant need you feel to apologize bubbles up yet again, uninvited. You swallow it. As you do, his fingertips trail down the length of your neck at a snailâs pace, effectively turning your thoughts to static.
âIâve been holding you for hours now, and all that time ââÂ
He pauses just long enough to glance down at his hand, which hasnât.
ââ Iâve been wondering if I should have you channel that energy and tire yourself out on top of me ââ
His touch whispers over your collarbone. Itâs the only proof that you have any bones at all. Until now, you were sure that the rest of you had melted entirely, puddling uselessly on the sheets below. This time, when you bite your lips and swallow weakly, itâs not an apology that youâre keeping to yourself but a whimper.
ââ or lay you back against the pillows ââ
You donât mean to directly contradict his statement the moment he makes it, but you canât help it. The thin, cotton fabric of your top does nothing to dull the sensation of his hand on your left breast; leaves you with the unmitigated brush of his thumb tracing delicate swirls over your nipple. The breath youâve been holding comes out shuddered, back arching off the mattress to chase his touch.
Emboldened by your reaction, Jihoon pulls his gaze off his own ministrations and directs it through his lashes back up at you. One eyebrow momentarily flexes in challenge. ââ Take my time, and ââ
Whatever desperate look you give him earns you some amount of mercy. He picks up where he left off in that dizzyingly deep voice of his, words molten, and drags the hem of your shirt up your torso. âFuck you deep, until the only thing you can do is relax.â
Gobsmacked is too weak a word for the impact that suggestion has on you. The idea alone sparks a kind of relief so foreign and so sorely needed that it almost makes you cry.Â
You donât, thankfully.Â
Instead, you stagger along the borderline of babbling.Â
âI want that,â you announce on a shaky exhale. Then, with a shake of your head, you correct yourself, âNo, itâs not even want. Itâs ââ Frustration over your inability to form a coherent thought drives you to scrub your hands over your face. ââ need. I need you.â
You accompany that declaration by slapping your hands down at your sides, finishing off with a muted thump when your palms hit the mattress with enough force to bounce them upwards again.Â
Even with your eyes screwed shut, you know Jihoon is sitting back on his knees, watching you with equal parts surprise and amusement. Thereâs no need to open them to confirm it, but you do anyway. His pupils have dilated widely enough to rival the moon floating over the skyline.
Though heâd be well within bounds to tell you to chill the fuck out, he doesnât. He never has, as far as you can recall. In fact, Jihoon doesnât say a thing. His hands speak for him, reaching for the shirt he so nearly got off your body before you lost whatever was left of your mind.
Keeping his word, as always, Jihoon takes his time. He takes care in sliding that tank top up and over your head without snagging your earrings, then he wordlessly drops it off the side of the bed to be forgotten about.
With your chest bare, itâs obvious how rapid your breathing is. Noting the quick rise and fall, he traces the curve of your waist with the side of his right index finger and softly says the quiet part out loud: âLet me take care of you.â
And you do.
You let him maneuver your body so he can settle with one knee between your thighs, rather than straddle them. You let go of your death grip on the sheets and thread your fingers through his hair when he leans back down to kiss you; and when he licks into your mouth, you let him swallow the moan that builds under the delicious weight of his body on yours.
Already, you feel every shitty, stupid thought begin to dissolve. You shouldâve known this would be the case.Â
He said heâd fix it, didn't he?Â
And here he is, proving to you that his touch is magic. All it takes to coax the tension out of your muscles is the tender pass of his hand.
Whatever effect Jihoon has on you seems to be mutual. When he pulls back, heâs equally as breathless, likely just as starry-eyed. Awash in that lilac glow peeking in from the outside, heâs downright celestial â almost too divine to look at directly without watering eyes.
Undeterred, you stare right back at him and sigh, âYouâre beautiful.â
His nose scrunches for a split second, just like it always does when you make him suffer through a compliment. Your exposure therapy is working, though. For once, Jihoon doesnât groan or tell you to keep your praise to yourself. The corner of his mouth curves upward â just barely â and he shakes his head.
âI mean it,â you quietly insist.
Smirking slightly, he extends the index finger on his right hand and holds it to his lips. âYouâre relaxing, remember?â
Though you could double-down, any fight you mightâve had in you fizzles out the second he bows his head and connects his lips to the underside of your jaw. Your head tilts further back with every centimeter he trails down the length of your neck, granting him increased access to wreck you even further. You have to keep your hands on whatever you can grip of his biceps â which ultimately isnât much at all â to keep from floating away.
âBold of you to call me beautiful,â he murmurs against your body, âWhen you just exist like this.â
You donât argue. You canât argue with a man who sounds so fucking reverent. Not in good faith, anyway. He says it with the kind of sincerity that underlines an undisputed fact; and you know better than to debate an expert.
With nothing to say, all you have left is to keen and melt even further into the mattress.
Like everything else he does, the way Jihoon kisses you is rhythmic. Steady and thoughtful, each feather-light graze of his lips on your skin causes your eyelids to flutter until you eventually decide to keep them shut. To cut out the visual and hone in on the physical sensation; to be truly present in the body he canât get enough of.
As it turns out, being present earns the gift of his tongue circling one of your nipples. Soon after, you get the plush heat of his mouth enveloping the sensitive bud; the slow, deep pull of the suction he creates.
Eloquent as always, you moan, âFuuuuck.â
The hand not holding up his weight massages your other breast, too considerate to leave half of you lonely. Whatever gentle pressure he maintains there builds inside you, further down.
Itâs incredible.
No, itâs fucking perfect.
Jihoon switches sides, grazes your other nipple carefully with his teeth, and itâs over for you. You shudder beneath his body, back arching and a breathy sigh floating out of your chest.
Apparently, heâs just as surprised by this turn of events as you are. Your eyes blink open and find him hovering over you with his jaw partially dropped, still smiling somehow.
Your questions overlap.
âDid you just ââ
ââ make me cum from this?â
His bemusement switches in an instant to something you can only describe as bewitched. Voice gravel-lined, Jihoon groans, âOh, shit.â Adding immediately and twice as earnestly, âGoddamn.â
A flash of conflict makes him freeze. You know heâs facing the same internal debate that you are: he needs to be inside of you in the worst way, right now, but thatâs not a conclusion the pair of you can just â leap to.Â
Thereâs simply too much of him to take if he doesnât fuck you open with his fingers first.
Jihoon shakes his head, as if heâs telling himself no. Like heâs reminding himself of what he promised â or threatened, more like â earlier, that heâs taking his time.
As much as you want to beg otherwise, you know you shouldnât. So, you donât. You reach out, encircle his wrist in your hand, and bring him back within reach.Â
With undivided attention and darkening eyes, Jihoon watches you take his index and middle finger into your mouth, cheeks hollowing and tongue circling. He fights to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head, all the while professing, âYouâre perfect.â
Not generally, no.
However, Jihoon has a habit of ending up correct, even if you disagree. This isnât a battle worth picking. In this moment, youâre willing to entertain the possibility that youâre perfect for him.
A soft pop underscores your choice to release him. His mouth mustâve gotten jealous; it swiftly replaces his fingers, tongue reclaiming any territory he wrongfully assumes heâs lost.
Youâd be content to stay this way forever â and likely could, if it came down to it â but Jihoon has an agenda. He sticks to it, to the letter, and in dropping his hand down your body, he lets his knuckles drag softly over the trail he blazes. The little sleep shorts you wear are moved aside, and your thighs part for him, too, offering unrestricted access.
Two fingers slip inside of you easily, no doubt aided by the orgasm that snuck up on you â the one youâre still thinking about; the one heâll secretly hang his hat on forever, having brought it on without touching you here at all.
âListen to you,â he smirks against your lips with a curl of his fingers.Â
As if you werenât already acutely aware of the way youâve drenched him to the base knuckles, he rolls his wrist, stroking your g-spot while the heel of his hand nudges your clit. Even the dulcet hum of the aircon isnât enough to mute the obscenity; you hear the slick rush with every slow thrust of his fingers.
You respond with some sort of whimper. The sound barely registers without any breath behind it. If Jihoon hears it, he doesnât let it affect his pace â just the stretch. He scissors his middle and index on the way out, then returns with his ring finger, unearthing a proper moan from the very bottom of your lungs.
His head tilts to the side. Warm breath hits the shell of your ear, prompting a contradictory shiver. âI think youâve got another one for me, donât you?â
Buried in you, he taps his fingers against that same, spongy spot. Every neuron you have begins to buzz.
âIn fact, I think you want to cum all over my fingers,â he whispers, goading you with his rough voice dropped low. âThink you wanna soak my fucking hand, so I can fill you properly.â
You think youâll have to apologize later for the crescent-shaped indents your nails leave on his shoulders.
When your second orgasm overtakes you, you feel it tingling all the way up at the crown of your head. Just like the first, itâs not a clap of thunder but a roll â patient. The intensity only builds, the longer it lasts. Jihoon makes sure it does â makes no adjustment to the slow, steady tempo, as it pulls you fully apart.
Every muscle you tensed as you came goes limp. Itâs anyoneâs guess whether you have any bones left. Youâre sure that the only thing keeping you from seeping like honey through the mattress, or pooling on the floor below, is Jihoonâs body caging you in.
âDonât ask me what my name is.â Your head droops to the side, and you mumble, âI do not remember, and I do not care.â
He kisses the temple that isnât smushed against his left forearm, which, coupled with his elbow, now holds both of your weight. âIf youâre spent, I can stoââ
âDonât you dare.â
The emphatic look you muster lacks energy, youâre sure, but the point still stands, even if your stamina doesnât. Half-lidded, you stare at him with all the force you can find.
âIâll stay awake for the rest of my life if you stop now. I swear to you, Lee Jihoon, I will die on this hill.â
âEasy, tiger,â he purrs. Out of the corner of your narrowed eyes, you clock the fond smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. âThe whole point of this was for you to relax.â
To prove that you havenât lost the plot entirely, you close your eyes, rather than roll them. Then, you cave completely.Â
You whisper, leaving no question as to how badly you need him, âJihoon⊠Please.â
âIâve got you.â He nudges your temple with the tip of his nose. âBut I canât fuck you unless you give my arm back.â
Begrudgingly, you scoot your head several centimeters across the pillow, heaving a put-upon sigh as if heâs asked you to move a mountain instead. You give yourself a moment to mourn the loss of your headrest, then you open your eyes. As you do, any thought of pouting flies out the window.
Having crawled back to the end of your bed, Jihoon gets to his feet. Once there, he drops his hands and eyes to the loose knot cinching the waistband of his sweatpants. Itâs a sight youâve seen a thousand times â his naked chest so pale in contrast with his usual, all-black attire â yet itâs one youâll never truly get over. Even harder to cope with is the fact that heâs never been in a hurry; not once in his goddamn life.
If youâre being honest, thatâs one of the things youâve always loved most about him. Envied, even. You fret endlessly about the process, whatever that may be; he trusts it. You scale the walls in anticipation; heâs never been caught sweating.
The best example of this comes the second he finishes addressing that knot. His sweatpants pool at his ankles; he kicks them aside; and you immediately set to wondering how in the motherfuck he managed to be so patient with you when heâs this incomprehensibly hard.
Really, you donât deserve him.
Nevertheless, you get him anyway.Â
Him pushing his flyways out of his face; him reaching out slowly to hook his fingers under the elastic band of your shorts; him cursing under his breath when he tosses those shorts over his shoulder and finds you wet and wanting.
In return, Jihoon gets you right where he wants you â trembling underneath him, with pliant legs opening wider at the request of his hands on your thighs. When his body fills the space between them, those same legs wrap around his back to keep him close, just like the arms you slink around his neck.
âDeep breath,â he reminds you as he lines himself up, only half-jokingly.
Itâs good advice â something Jihoon probably shouldâve heeded.Â
He doesnât.Â
You keep your eyes on his when he slides inside of you, and you swear you see his mind blow in real time. Not that you have room to judge, however. In fact, thatâs precisely whatâs causing you to short-circuit: the perfect pressure of his length within your heat, sinking in slowly so as to not shock the system.
When he eventually bottoms out, low moan splintering from the depths of his chest, you have to blink quickly to keep tears within your waterline.
To check in, Jihoon runs his hand along the side of your thigh then back again. âAlright?â
Whatever you say in response comes out through a dreamy sigh, framed in quotation marks by fluttering lashes. Nonsense, most likely, or never better. In either case, heâll understand; he always does.
Placing your hand on his, you slip your fingers over the top and pull him forward. He lets you, comes down carefully until the comfort of his weight against your frame makes you feel anchored. With every inch thatâs erased between you, he fills you further, pushing out whatever air remains in your lungs through some needy little whine.
Among the million sensations you have to grapple with, the most hard-hitting, ironically, is comfort. Pure and unadulterated. You enveloping him, enveloping you.
To prove it to yourself that youâre not dreaming, you slip your fingers into his hair, nails scratching delicately over his scalp. In return, he rolls his hips forward, just like he promised â slow, steady, deep. You clench around him involuntarily, a reflex your body mustâve learned to keep him close.
âLove the way you grip me, but...â Jihoon exhales a sigh against your neck, head tilted to keep your face in his periphery. Pulling out further just to thrust in deeper, he warns, âYou keep that up, and Iâll cum too soon.â
Heâs one to talk.
Every time he grinds his hips languidly towards yours, you have to talk yourself off the ledge.Â
If you let him wear you down again, you fear that there wonât be enough left of you to savor this; and you never want this moment to end. You want to live in it â to feel the delicious drag of his cock along your walls â to hear that obscene tide ebb and flow whenever he fucks himself further in you â to feel so fucking full â for as long as he gives you.Â
It was a valiant effort on your part, if you do say so yourself. Futile, though, because Jihoon pulls out all the stops. The next time he pulls himself from you just to roll back in, he swivels his hips as he thrusts, ensuring that you feel him everywhere.
âOh.â
One syllable on a gasping breath, then you forget every single word in your vocabulary. Like warm molasses, bliss washes over you at half-speed, seeping in and sticking until the blender motor in your brain is fucked beyond repair.
At least youâre not the only one.
âFuck, fuck ââÂ
Holding him as closely as you are, you feel each muscle in Jihoonâs body tense one-by-one, rippling as your third orgasm steals his first, going lax when his release floods. ââ Fuck,â he groans, all the while twitching inside you.
Though he slows, he doesnât stop. Itâs not until he pants, âKiss me,â that you realize it: Jihoon doesnât intend to stop.
Neither, it seems, do you.
Maybe youâre greedy. Maybe youâre too obsessed with the brush of his tip against your cervix with every gentle, shallow thrust. Maybe, above all, itâs the way his cock doesnât soften inside of you but his face does when he catches you looking at him from under a heavy curtain of lashes.
You catch him by the mouth, just like he asked. Itâs indulgent â messy, echoing the other point where the two of you connect. Licking into him while he fucks himself into you, ragged breaths barely loud enough to overpower the explicit, sodden sound below.
âCan you still speak in sentences?â He pants in a rare moment when his lips break from yours.
Can feel you in my stomach, you want to say.Â
âIâm â youâre gonna make me ââ
You canât choke out the words, though you suspect Jihoon gets the point. This far in, his touch reaches a detonator you didnât even know existed; thereâs no way he misses the explosion of pleasure throughout your entire goddamn body.
Heâs caught in your blast radius, your walls pulsing and spasming to such an insane degree that he can barely move. Mind blown to fucking smithereens, your ears ring too loudly to hear whatever he says to you when he cums again â hard â and the arms bearing his weight buckle.
Jihoonâs flushed cheek winds up pressed to your shoulder. He stays there while your joint trembling subsides, then any muscle that could make him move is too spent to do so.
âWhat just happened?â He sounds as delirious as you feel. âThat was⊠shit. What did your body just do?â
You have no idea.Â
You have no capacity to form any.
All you have is the weight of his frame on yours and that of your eyelids, which flutter as you try and fail to keep them open. The best you can give is a non-responsive, utterly fucked-out sound â not enough shape to be a word, not enough breath to be a sigh.
Eventually, although you canât imagine how, Jihoon finds enough strength to shift himself off of you. You donât see anything that happens next, but you feel it all â the kiss to your temple; the hollowness when he pulls out and the sticky rush that chases him when he leaves.
âIâm coming back to clean you up,â he promises in a hushed tone from a million miles away. Chuckling despite his own sleepiness, he adds, âDonât move.â
I wonât, you think but donât say.
And you donât move.
At least, not until the smell of hotteok reaches you eight hours later.
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multi taglist: @bahng-chrizz @jihopesjoint @notevenheretbh1 @borabitsch @bubbly-moon
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conflict of interest | l.n.
synopsis: requested by anon: i recently saw a lando fanfic where the reader was a famous football playerâs daughter and she was besties with maguis ex bf (joao another football player) but the story line was that sheâd gone to a gp lando grew an interest in her but she rejected/dissed him because of the rumors of him and magui and i was wondering is you could do something like that!
warnings!!: a little hate towards magui (i have nothing against her and her relationship with lando in any way !!!! but it was necessary for the story to be spicier), jerk!joao (for like a split second)
my masterlist
You didnât know what you were expecting when you got invited to attend a Formula 1 race weekend.
You knew nothing about the sport or how it worked, the only thing discussed in your household being football and your fatherâs career. Day in and day out, the only thing that surrounded you was football.
Even though your father had always said that he didnât want to pressure you into liking or practicing football, he secretly wanted you to follow in his footsteps.
Imagine his internal disappointment he felt when you told him you wanted to become a model. He, of course, supported you and helped you in every way that he could have ever thought of, instead shifting his entire focus regarding football on your best friend, JoĂŁo.Â
You and JoĂŁo have known each other ever since you were little children, growing up in the same neighborhood and given that he had always looked up to your father and his career. Growing up, whenever you would hang out with JoĂŁo at your house, him and your father never missed out on the opportunity for some early-on training and strategy talks.
That didnât stop even when JoĂŁo actually became a football player. Your father and him sometimes talked more than you guys did, if you were being honest.
But you understood the shared passion that made their connection so deep.
Even with your modeling, you were keen on following your best friendâs games, always finding time and watching it wherever you were around the world. But that was not the only sport that you followed.
Formula 1 had become your guilty pleasure ever since you did a photoshoot with Charles Leclerc for a jewelry brand in Monaco. You became very good friends with him and his girlfriend, Alexandra, whom you talked to regularly.
To nobodyâs surprise, a couple of weeks after the photoshoot was published, you received a formal invitation from Ferrari to the race weekend at Silverstone. The most exciting thing in your life, by far, was getting the opportunity to experience the true feeling of the race weekend from the garages.
Figuring you shouldnât go alone, you took JoĂŁo with you.Â
âWhy do you want me to come, again?â he asked while on the place, not particularly excited to attend an event in which he didnât really have interest in or knowledge of.
âBecause you love me and I didnât want to go to the UK by myselfâ you had replied, which was enough for the footballer.
After you had checked into the hotel and made your way to the track for the qualifying session of the weekend, you were amazed by the multitude of people screaming all around the paddock and reporters taking dozens of pictures of you and JoĂŁo.
An interviewer motioned you over for a quick interview, prompting you to halt your walk towards the garage.
âY/N, such a nice surprise seeing you here. Not really the kind of sport weâre used to seeing you attend, is it?â the woman asked, making you smile and laugh
âI suppose not, haha. Iâve been a huge F1 fan for a while now but my schedule has made it impossible for me to attend an actual race up until nowâ you explained, making the woman nod.
âAnd who are you the guest of today?â she continued.
âFerrari. I did a photoshoot with Charles in Monaco a couple of weeks back and we because friends, so Iâm guessing he talked the Ferrari team into inviting little old me to Silverstoneâ
âWe saw you came with JoĂŁo Felix, is he your partner? What can you tell us?âÂ
You laughed, hearing JoĂŁo snort from behind you.
âNo, far from it. Weâre best friends, weâve known each other since we were little kids, but there is nothing else going on between usâ
You answered a couple more questions before deciding it was getting late and you would miss qualifying if you spent anymore time with the woman.
JoĂŁo and you made small talk as you walked towards the garage, seeing Charles talking to a guy in papaya.
âHi Charlesâ you greeted him once you were within earshot, the MonĂ©gasque immediately hugging you and JoĂŁo.
âY/N, JoĂŁo, Iâm so glad you could make it. This is Lando, he drives for McLaren. Lando, this is Y/N, a model and very good friend and JoĂŁo Felixâ Charles introduced you, making you smile at the curly haired man.
Making eye contact with Lando had been one of the most intense feeling you had experienced in a long time. The intensity of his gaze and the way his eyes moved over your body had your senses tingling.
âItâs very nice to meet youâ he said, taking your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it.
You almost blushed, but a scoff from your right made you snap out of your happy bubble. JoĂŁo was glaring daggers into Landoâs head, which made you furrow your eyebrows as you looked at him.
He shook his head and mouthed later, making you nod.
âWell, we have to get in the cars, but I hope you have a great timeâ Charles said, saluting you two before departing with Lando, who smiled and winked at you as he walked back to his garage.
âNoâ JoĂŁo demanded once he saw the way your eyes were following Lando as he disappeared into his garage, giving you one last look before he was out of sight.
âI didnât do anythingâ you defended yourself, scoffing once you saw the distaste with which JoĂŁo was looking at you. âWhat the hell is your problem? You donât even know the guy and youâre acting like he killed someoneâ
He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
âI donât have to know what heâs like to know that heâs an idiot. Do you not read the news?â he asked, at which you shook your head.Â
You didnât really have the time nor the desire to read tabloids, knowing what kind of articles they tend to write.
âYou know I donât believe in anything the media writesâ you explained, rolling your eyes.
âWell, I believe what videos say. And heâs been seen with Maguiâ your eyes widened at the mention of his ex-girlfriend.
The mere thought of Magui being in a relationship with anyone made you sick to your stomach, especially after what happened with JoĂŁo.
âOhâ was all you could say, and the conversation ended there.
You couldnât lie and say that the new information didnât disappoint you. Wanting to see it with your own eyes, you decided to look it up on the internet and, fair enough, there were videos and pictures of Lando and Magui driving around Monaco.
While driving around didnât really mean anything, you felt it like a punch to your gut. Every single time you would become slightly interested in someone, something had to come in between.
Shaking the thoughts from your head and deciding you would not speak to Lando for the remainder of the weekend, you enjoyed qualifying to the most, the feeling of watching firsthand what was happening was unlike any football game you had ever attended.
It was something special.
After you had arrived back at the hotel and were left alone once JoĂŁo decided to hit the city, you decided on having a quiet night in with some room service and a movie. Settling into the comfy bed, you had barely put on the movie when you heard your phone go off.
Looking at the notification, your heart starts racing when you see it was a text from Lando.
lando
hi there
is this y/n?
y/n
yes?
how did you get my number?
lando
charles gave it to međ
y/n
hahhaa lol
did you need something?
lando
yes, actually
i think we both felt something earlier today
when we were introduced
and i was wondering if you wanted to go out?
y/n
ummm
hahaha
i don't think that's a good idea
lando
why not?
did i misread the situation completely?
i tend to do that sometimes
y/n
you didn't misread anything
i felt something as well
but i don't think your girlfriend would agree to you asking me out
or even talking to me right now
lando
girlfriend?
i don't know who you're talking about, i'm not dating anyone
y/n
lando
let's not pretend people don't follow the news
you've found magui, and i wish you both happiness if you're together, but given what happened with her and joao, who's my best friend, i don't even think we should be speaking right now
lando
woah, woah, woah
slow your horses
i don't know what news you've been reading
but i'm not dating magui
she's simply a friend, we have the same friend group but that's it
i know about the situation with joao and i would never associate myself with someone like that
does joao think i'm with her?
y/n
yeah
he's the one who told me to be careful
cause he saw the photos and video and shit
lando
i can assure you
i'm not dating her and i don't have the intention to date her
y/n
i don't know
lando
please, just think about it for some time
you don't have to give me an answer right now
y/n
okay
i'll think about it and let you know
lando
thank you, thank you, thank you
Throwing your phone on the bed as far away as possible, you let your mind wonder. Was Lando telling the truth? Was he really not dating Magui?
JoĂŁo had seemed so sure that they were together, so sure that she had just moved on to the next celeb and sure that Lando had just fallen for it. Thatâs why he had been so hostile towards him and so against you even talking to him.
But you couldnât deny the butterflies that you felt when you talked to him just now, how excited the mere thought of being with made you. You couldnât ignore it, and frankly, you didnât want to ignore the feeling.
You hadnât realized how long you had been stuck in your own thoughts, not until you heard the hotel room door open and JoĂŁo stepped into the room.
âWhat were you thinking about? You were lost in thoughtâ he said, shrugging off his jacket and falling backwards on the bed beside you.
âYouâre gonna hate me if I tell youâ you said, playing with your fingers.
He raised his head at that, furrowing his eyebrows.
âHate you? I could never hate you, no matter what you would doâÂ
You sighed, knowing he was right. There was no way he would ever hate you, he physically couldnât think badly of you.
But this would test that idea pretty well.
âI talked to Lando tonightâ you said, not even looking at him but knowing how he was glaring at you.
âI told you to stay away from him and herâ the venom dripping from his tone at the thought of Lando and Magui didnât go unnoticed.
âLook, I know what she did to you was unforgivable, and I hate her for how much she hurt you. You know that. But I talked to Lando, and theyâre not dating. Sheâs just a friend he has in common with the people close to him, he would never date her because of what she did to youâ you explained, trying to diffuse the situation.
JoĂŁo sighed, shaking his head. He turned to look at you, seeing the look on your face; a look he knew all too well.
He knew he had no right telling you who you should or shouldnât talk to. He didnât like it when you did it to him, he had no right doing it to you. But he had just been so angry at Magui for what he had done to him, time and time again after he had forgiven her, and he lost it when he saw the man in front of him.
However, looking at you in that moment, he knew you needed this. And he didnât want to be the one depriving you of that.
âOkayâ was the only thing he said, making your head shoot up and your eyes widen.
âOkay? What does that mean, okay?â you asked cautiously.
âIf you want to go out with him, you can go out with him. I have nothing against itâ he said, which prompted you to squeal and jump on him to hug him, chanting thank yous in his ear. âBut, if he does anything to hurt you, Iâm not afraid to fight himâ it made you laugh.
Without wasting a single moment, you picked up your phone again and sent Lando a message, smiling giddily.
so, about that date?
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Screaming, crying and OBSESSING over the way Anya and Demetrius are on opposite sides of the Neurodivergent scale and also far more similar to one another than either one realizes. More than any other character we've seen so far, it feels like these two are Yin and Yang, opposite sides of the same coin.
Demetrius easily absorbs facts, figures, and other information that follows a set pattern. But people confuse and frustrate him, and he deals with that by not dealing with it. Anya has the ability to understand more about strangers she passes on the street than people who see them regularly ever could, but traditional academics can overwhelm her so she is resistant to studying. And yet both of them are othered and seen as abnormal by everyone around them, building a wall between them and their peers that they both find difficult to overcome.
Anya tries to fit in through masking, pretending as hard as she can to be normal (with limited success) but Demetrius has given up after going so long without anyone helping him better understand others which leads to him disassociating in social situations as a self defense mechanism, to get in and out as quickly and painlessly as possible while telling himself it doesn't matter.
Except it does.
Demetrius didn't need to ask about Damian's stella. But he did. Because he wants to find some sort of common ground with his brother even as he reassures himself that it doesn't matter and he doesn't care. He doesn't pick up on the fact that this makes Damian feel self conscious, that he's comparing his one stella to Demetrius' six and worried their father will love him less for not being as successful. Demetrius doesn't understand how the subject switched to Donovan at all, and shuts down hard when their father is mentioned. Just like he did when Damian called and asked him to be a bridge between them way back when.
(Demetrius warning Damian not to get his hopes up about Donovan coming to meet him also conflicts with his internal dialog about how the people around him don't matter and he doesn't need to care about understanding them. If it actually doesn't matter to him, then he wouldn't care if Donovan blew Damian off.)
Circling back to the original thought though, I desperately hope that we're going to get Demetrius and Anya interacting directly with one another at some point in the future because I have a feeling that Anya's blunt, child-like nature will lead to her just directly telling Demetrius the things that are eluding him when he interacts with others, demystifying all the unspoken social cues he's supposed to yet cannot intuit for the first time in his life. And he is going to be in awe of this child for her ability to not only understand others, but translate for him when he cannot grasp whatever it is they are trying and failing to say to him.
Demetrius could appreciate Anya's abilities, rather than being afraid of or disturbed by them. And they could both understand the feeling of not fitting in with the crowd. Of knowing that others regard them with fear and contempt, or want to use the things that make them different for their own purposes and treat them like they are just a tool instead of a person. The potential is there for a very interesting platonic relationship between two kids who have spent their whole lives feeling like their differences alienated them from everyone else in their life, and in Anya's case a fear that the discovery of that difference would lead to her losing the love of everyone important to her in her life.
#spy x family#anya forger#damian desmond#demetrius desmond#spy x family manga#spy x family manga spoilers#sxf#sxf manga spoilers#twisting them around like a rubix cube
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i actually think a big reason a lot of monogamous queer people get so hostile towards polyamory (besides just plain ol' reactionaryism) is that they're self conscious about the unhealthy and controlling ways they've acted in relationships as a result of monogamy. i think they feel threatened almost by the idea of people who are able to participate in relationships without jealousy or insecurity getting in the way. i think deep down inside they understand that their own communication and conflict resolution skills are sorely lacking, and they're lashing out as a result of it.
i think this is why you also see these kinds of people often insisting that they've never seen a successful or healthy poly relationship or that it never really works out, because that's the only way to convince yourself that the internalized ideas you have about what a "healthy" relationship should look like are actually "true".
if you acknowledge that people can and do form healthy, fulfilling, supportive relationships with this deviant relationship structure, the entire foundation of monogamy being the norm because it's the best and healthiest (and not that society has spent centuries violently structured around women as property and utilizing spousal relationships to enforce this) begins to crumble, and you have to confront the fact you've been participating and advocating for something supported by the structural misogyny, homophobia, and heterosexism you likely claim to oppose.
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