#i think it's safe to say it gets a little gay

[fight-nights-at-freddys]

I think it's genuinely concerning how sex-negative we, as a society, are becoming. (This post brought to you by a few tweets I saw)

Does no one else think it's genuinely worrying how if you even find a fictional character attractive, you're called a gooner, or a degenerate, or some other pejorative to indicate that being sexual in any way is gross and nasty and yucky? Why does art suddenly lack artistic value because it's sexual in nature? Why are we so obsessed with associating a core feature of the human condition with shame and guilt?

Even more concerning is that it isn't just some niche little group of people on the internet, it's rampant. Every nook and cranny of the internet has these people, ready and raring to call you names if you dare speak anything slightly not-safe-for-work.

Like the people on twitter openly calling trans women degenerates and freaks for having an incest/rape kink (I've seen this one A LOT), because how can you claim to be an ally, or lgbt-friendly, or a feminist, but get mad at a woman expressing her sexuality? Why does sexuality gross you out to the point you feel the need to demean people over it?

And where does it end? Are we going to start calling women who dress a little too revealing 'sluts' again? Are we going to ban sex scenes in movies? Start preaching abstinence, say sex outside of marriage is bad, that lust is immoral, and being gay is a sin?

I'm sure that a large part of the problem is that these people are generally children, and still in the "sex is gross" phase, but I know that's not the case with all of them. I'm just worried for the future, because all the people saying these things are just reinventing conservatism under the guise of progressivism, and are (intentionally or unintentionally, I'm not sure) causing more harm than good.

I know we talk about puritanism and stuff all the time, but in my opinion, it's gotten to a point even the actual puritans didn't get to.

[reaganwnicole]

Addressing Addiction (Wicked)

After watching Wicked three times in theatres I think I am now safe to say I have a problem. This movie has actually ruined my life.

Before I even address the reasons why, I need to confess that half of my waking thoughts are spent thinking about Wicked. I smile to myself just thinking about it. My TikTok has been completely taken over, the songs are always in my head, and I can't even look at anything remotely resembling pink or green without saying "this is so Wicked" out loud. I genuinely cannot state my love for this movie enough.

Skipping over the obvious: Cynthia Erivo, Ariana Grande, and literally everybody else were the perfect picks for this movie and I refuse to hear anybody else's fan castings out. Every time I see somebody hate Ms. Grande and say "It should've been Dove Cameron or Amanda Seyfried" I die a little inside. Which of y'all really give a fuck about Dove Cameron? And Amanda Seyfried, I love you queen, you have had your moment. Sorry that Les Mis did you dirty. Jeff Goldblum, I can admit I was confused at first but, If he is 72 and is still that limber, then he deserved it (and he delivered). Even Ethan Slater has almost convinced me to believe he is a real prize. Lastly, Fieryo being played by Jonathan Bailey was the most perfect pick of them all. Fieryo needs a gay flamboyant man to play him and nobody else, and I fully stand by the fact that only Jonathan Bailey could bring so much sexuality to him the way that he did. You could make him flirt with a literal rock and it would be the most beautiful, playful, romantic thing you've ever witnessed.

The only negative thing I can say about this movie is the inability of people to act normal while watching it. Maybe every time I've seen it somebody is acting a fool singing, talking, and way too many gasps but I have never been so gagged by a movie that I do not even care like I have this one. Also, every single time I've watched this movie I never fail to think the ensemble talking is somebody behind me being the worst person ever. But no, they really just ate it up that much.

Right from the beginning "No One Mourns The Wicked" has almost brought tears to my eyes every time I watch it in its entirety. I knew Ariana Grande and her infamous whistle notes but holy shit. It's so good I can completely ignore her "blackiana" phase. Maybe I'm biased as my love for Ariana Grande stems back to third grade, but I'm even more of a fan now. When I saw it for the third time and my friend was underwhelmed I took it personally and felt as though my heart had been split in half. "Defying Gravity" has never failed to get me so fucking pumped. This is definitely how millennials felt with each new Harry Potter movie, and I'm thankful I can finally tap in and ride that high.

Overall, the movie was so good half of the cash grab merch has almost gotten me. The seven reprises of "Defying Gravity" never fail to excite me. My Tumblr is now entirely gay Wicked fan art. The only thing I can find that could make this movie better is if they share a little kiss at the end of Act 2.

[consanguinitatum]

First off, I want to say thanks to @80smaniac for writing such a thoughtful piece on my article about MacWizard Fae Oz, John Binnie, Scotland Matters and David Tennant. It was indeed a remarkable coincidence that I just so happened to run into that flyer, which was the catalyst for a renewed search and a possible (though still not confirmed by the man himself) solution to the mystery of why he was in that photo of MacWizard Fae Oz.

I haven't yet done a deep dive into Scotland Matters (or indeed any of David's three other 7:84 plays) at A Tennantcy To Act because to be honest? They're all quite the undertaking. I've been able to dig up quite a lot of information about them, and it's precisely the amount of information I have that makes me feel a bit overwhelmed. My brain's short circuiting like: "Where to start? How to start? There's toooo much OMGggggg...." I'll get there, I'm sure, as soon as my brain decides it's ready to start laying it all down!

But I think I can - albeit only partially - address your wonderings about how Scotland Matters addressed homosexuality in the early 1990s. It was part of that whole growing movement about gay rights, safe sex in the time of AIDs, and calls for the establishment of institutional and governmental safeguards as opposed to looking solely within the gay community for those guardrails. And of course, fighting the ever-present blame and discrimination. You'll be happy to know David wasn't in that group (as if he'd ever be)! He's always walked the walk. In drama school at the RSAMD in 1989, he joined a school theatre company called Theatre Positive+ Scotland, formed by students to help raise money for Scottish AIDS charities like the Scottish AIDS Monitor.

Now on to Scotland Matters in particular.

The play was a collaborative show, made up of ten playlets by nine different authors, each one focusing on a different aspect of Scottish life. No one was more important than the other, and the 7:84 being the radical politically-motivated organization it was, it even held a series of at least three after-show discussions featuring prominent Scots about subjects like class, culture, identity, nationalism, sexual politics, and football.

As I mentioned in my article about MacWizard Fae Oz, David played (alongside many other roles in the play) Ben in the playlet Away w’ the Fairies by John Binnie. about two boys who meet while watching Death in Venice and fall in love.

Without giving too much away about Scotland Matters, I can share here something director Iain Reekie said to Scotland on Sunday about the play around a year later on 14 Nov 1993:

"...we did a play in Edinburgh called Away w' The Fairies, about two men falling in love with each other. At one point the two got their clothes off and embraced. An elderly man in the audience jumped up and shouted, "oh, no, no, not that!  That's disgusting.  You're not going to do that!"

So now you know David got his kit off onstage in Scotland Matters, and now you also know how it was likely generally received.

Thanks for reading A Tennantcy To Act - I really do appreciate it, and I'm so glad David's fans enjoy reading my geeky little research on his career!

Collecting David Tennant's Theatre Programmes: What The Butler Saw (1995)

Everyone who follows me over at A Tennantcy To Act over on Substack knows I collect David Tennant's theatre ephemera (programmes, flyers, etc.) and love to chat with others who do, too. But I've never delved into the particulars of collecting.

Until now!

For the first time ever, I explore collectibles related to one of David's early plays. For this inaugural dive, I've chosen the 1995 production of What The Butler Saw.

Join me!

[spinach-pine]

someone started a challenge of putting romantic music on top of star trek clips to see how gay it gets. couldn't find the op so in courtesy of all that is spirk, challenge accepted.

*cough* ahem

edit: y'know, if you listen to it with your eyes closed it just adds a WHOLE DIFFERENT feeling to the thing.

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[dreamlogic]

finished fellowship and have some updated thoughts on Hobbit Relationship Drama...

- merry & pippin are still useless homosexuals. merry accidentally brushed pippin’s hand at dinner one time and thought about it for like 3 weeks. pippin usually ends up marching behind merry when they travel and spends an awful lot of time thinking about how beautiful merry’s curls look backlit in the setting sun. but not in a gay way.

- frodo and sam, on the other hand, wasted no time getting themselves sorted out and confessing their undying love. tom bombadil mistakes them for a couple (past, future, present.. they don’t matter to him so he just got his timelines a lil twisted). later that evening as they’re getting ready for bed they’re both like “haha wow, who could ever mistake us for a couple. that’s so ridiculous.... unless...?”

- they wanna keep things on the down low until they’re Certain that this is a Thing, so they spend most evenings between the old forest and bree volunteering for the late watch so they can stay up all night talking about their feelings. they just. love each other so much. it’s unreal. the only thing they disagree about is PDA: frodo thinks it’s in bad taste, and sam wants to superglue his hand to frodo’s ASAP.

- one of the first conversations frodo has with sam when he wakes up in rivendell after nearly dying is “listen, i need to marry you before anything like that happens again. if either of us dies before we’re wed it would be the most unspeakable cruelty on this earth.” sam, a huge romantic who has cried at every wedding he’s ever been invited to, has to sit down upon hearing this to avoid swooning.

- only problem? they ask elrond, as master of the house, to officiate the wedding, but elrond refuses cause he thinks it’s a horrible idea for the ringbearer to fall in love at a time like this. they ask gandalf, but he’s too involved in White Council Politics and won’t go against elrond in his own house. they’re lamenting this turn of events to bilbo, who’s like “wait, didn’t you know? the king of dale gave me some obscure honorary title that authorizes me to officiate legally binding unions. i’ll marry you right now!” sam runs and grabs pippin & merry and they have a cozy little impromptu ceremony in bilbo’s room.

- they’re still keeping things low-key to avoid drama with elrond, but bilbo is a gossip and word gets around to gloin in no time, who tells gimli, who confronts sam about it before dinner one evening. “listen, your business is your business but you should know, as dwarven nobility, i’ve officiated many a wedding in my time if you wanna make doubly sure your union will be recognized among all the free peoples of middle earth...” so they get married Again. gimli tries to gift them both rings, but frodo has enough of those to worry about, thanks.

- legolas is a voracious eavesdropper and will not be outdone by a dwarf. “say, frodo,” he casually starts one evening. “i’m a prince and guess what princes can do? marry people.” SO sam and frodo get a third marriage certificate, written in elvish this time.

- frodo is hanging out with bilbo and aragorn one morning over brunch, workshopping one of bilbo’s songs, when a thought occurs to him. “strider, as you may have figured out by now, sam and i are married in three different languages. you’re sort of royalty, right? wanna get in on the joke?” “i absolutely want to be in on the joke,” strider says, because he is a very poetic soul and this whole situation is gonna be keeping him awake with a single tear in his eye for months. their love is beautiful, he’d be honored to have any part in it.

- boromir is deeply offended that he hasn’t been invited to marry frodo and sam yet, so the morning before the fellowship sets off, he corners the happy couple at breakfast and rattles off a speech before either can finish their eggs and toast. it’s a little jarring, but he does give them the most sensible wedding gift yet: a stamped leather folio for sam to safely store their five (5) marriage certificates in.

- they think they’re safe from any more weddings when they leave rivendell, but without elrond watching him, gandalf wants to throw his two cents in. he pulls them aside after dinner one evening in hollin and says a few words. “trust me,” he insists when they protest, “you’d do very well to have one of the istari bless your union,” and throws a few protection spells into the mix for them.

- elrond, for his part, has known about these shenanigans since the first marriage, because bilbo wasted no time marching up to him afterwards and demanded to know why he refused to officiate his favorite nephew's wedding. he's been keeping an eye on the situation since and refraining from comment. if all goes well, the ring is destroyed, and sauron thwarted... perhaps then, a proper rivendell wedding would be in order to celebrate.

re-reading the lord of the rings for the first time since i was a teen and i have some Thoughts on the hobbits' relationship statuses at the beginning of fellowship. will update as i finish each book.

- merry and frodo dated all through their tweens and were, like, disgustingly into each other. they were The Couple at brandy hall forever and all their neighbors were impatiently awaiting their wedding invites. then merry met pippin and it was love at first sight, he knew he'd never be able to stop pining.

- not wanting to string frodo along, they broke up. it was relatively amiable, they had a long talk about it over tea and both of them cried into each other's arms a lot, but understood it was probably for the best in the long run. frodo moved in with his uncle at bag end to give them both time/space to recover, and wrote a lot of sad poetry for a while.

- unfortunately for merry, pippin is still deeply closeted and completely oblivious. but merry is patient, and is more than happy to enjoy pippin's platonic friendship even if he doesn't ever end up reciprocating romantic feelings.

- frodo developed an immediate crush on sam, the Gardener's Hot Son, but refused to let himself get carried away cause he's a mature (if melodramatic) hobbit and 1) didn't want to rush into anything after merry, and 2) didn't want sam to feel weird about his boss having feelings for him.

- sam, meanwhile, is desperately in love with frodo and seeks advice about it p much right away from merry. "help, i'm smitten for your ex, but he's so aloof around me i don't know what to do!" sam cries. merry, who kept his distance from frodo for all of, like, two months before striking up their friendship again, finds this hilarious. he advises sam that frodo is just Like That, and if he wants to bring him out of his thick head, sam needs to smother him in Really Blatant Flirting.

- sam, bless him, decides that the best way to flirt with frodo is to be overly formal and deferential around him, which only makes frodo more anxious about abusing the power imbalance in their relationship. "master frodo, sir," sam says, wondering if he's laying it on too thick. "oh, sam..." frodo sighs, hoping his status as hobbit nobility isn't pressuring his crush into being so excessively polite to him.

- pippin is blissfully unaware of all of this, and assumes that it's perfectly heterosexual for all his best friends to hold hands and smooch and talk about wanting to get married to and grow old with each other. i mean, who wouldn't want to marry his friends? they're all so gorgeous and kind and funny and smart. especially merry. if pippin were gay (which he isn't!!!!!) he definitely wouldn't mind settling down with that brandybuck...

[lizardho]

I came out to my dad as bisexual at 14 and I was PANICKED because I had a crush on a guy in my Boy Scout troop and thought I was Going To Hell Forever and he was so kind and understanding of my distress, but he had NO idea what bisexuality was. He just said “yeah but you like girls too? This is normal. Everyone is like this.” And I love my dad and trust him with my life to this day and the idea that the concept of bisexuality had not occurred to him had not occurred to me so I put it off.

By 16 though I had a crush on like THREE boys. Three entire boys in my Boy Scout troop. I felt like my sin was slowly advancing, until like an untreated cancer it had become metastatic. I remember bawling my L’il limp-wristed sissy eyes out in his big rumbly truck on the way home from a scout meeting and him telling me that it was OK, that he still loved me if I was gay, but that he knew I wasn’t gay because I still had crushes on women and that meant I was straight. I didn’t quite know how to explain that those felt *~*different*~* and that I felt like I was losing a fight to evil inside me but I again felt comforted by his reassurances and his genuine fatherly love.

At 18 I was like “hey I’m realizing all my friends are going on missions. I don’t wanna do that. Idk how to say that and I don’t have a ‘good enough’ reason to not wanna go.” So I just put it off. Again, my parents were extremely supportive of the information I gave them (I blamed it on perpetually forgetting to start the paperwork.) and one day my mom texted me that she had done the paperwork for me! And that all I needed was to get a physical! So I did that (it was awkward af tbh, my hernia check was done by a trainee doctor and she spent like 3 minutes fishing around my inguinal canals before her attending rescued me) and was sent to Mexico City where I learned that in addition to dipshit himbos with strong hands and scruffy guys with artistic hearts I was REALLY into chubby Latin men with strong personalities who bullied me a little when I lived in Mexico.

I remember my first companion got annoyed with me during an argument and said we were just gonna wrestle and whoever won the wrestling match won the argument (I stg I am dead serious this happened.) I was like…SWEATING when he tore off his tie and threw his white button-down shirt onto the ground (I won btw, don’t ask me how).

I remember one of my companions with this really intense, almost manic energy telling me that he was gonna make sure I was safe in a new area I didn’t know very well. He cooked breakfast for me and we’d go shopping together on P-Days and in the mornings before breakfast he’d jog around and do pull-ups with his shirt off and I’d do anything but look at him because my face would break out in a sweat so intense he’d think I was crying and come over to see if I was OK and somehow make it worse. He let me play D&D with myself in the evenings even though it was against mission rules because he knew how lonely and stressed I was.

I remember one of my companions was a big chubby man with a loud voice and a great sense of humor. He was kind and direct when addressing conflicts with me, and always bragged about how he knew the secrets of women’s minds and it felt like he really did since it almost always boiled down to “Treat Them Like People and Love Them a Lot. Don’t Stop Being A Person For Them. Also Eat Them Out Sloppy Style.” Our P-Day activities sometimes felt like dates, and it seemed like he was more attentive to my emotional state than I was since he was always the first to suggest we slow down our Divinely Mandated, God-Ordained, Super Sacred Work and Wonder to get a snack or check out a Pawn Shop (I love Pawn Shops).

I remember another companion who asked me to bully him every time he did something against his goal of losing weight. It was like he gave me Carte Blanche to take out my crush on him by being a nuisance and I LOVED that. I remember having a breakdown one day after we’d spent the afternoon frantically cleaning our disgusting-barely-habitable mission house to make it look less vile that it was (not our fault imo?) and I started bawling and he pulled me into a hug and he smelled good and he told me he knew it wasn’t just the house and that I was mad at him for being a Huge Dickhead for about a week (true) and that he would work on it. (He’s also a huge chaser but that’s a separate thing.)

I remember one of my companions waking up early (and our schedule is already built for sleep deprivation) to make me a “birthday cake” from knock-off Nutella and bread. He used matches for candles and woke me up, lit the ‘candles,’ pulled them out, then smashed it in my face and took a bunch of pictures while I was still madrugada and disoriented as fuck. He had the same sense of humor as one of my HS crushes and I could push his buttons pretty easily which was so fun.

I came home from my mission and started back at BYU where I became actively and aggressively suicidal. I had a stalker the year I moved up there and my dad’s solution to that was to get me a gun. I know he wouldn’t have bought me a gun if he could have read my mind, but I had a loaded pistol under my bed during a trifecta faith/sexuality/gender crisis and that was not helpful. I remember that the day I decided to kill myself I figured I’d call the BYU CAPS and see if I could get into therapy because it felt like what I was “supposed to do” so I could check my suicide boxes. My therapist was the guy who’d helped me pick a major the year before and was this drop-dead gorgeous Hawaiian man who cried when I told him how I’d been feeling.

A few weeks into therapy I met another stunning man with soft eyes and a scruffy illegal-at-BYU beard he kept pushing his luck with. He was funny, kind, patient, married, and wouldn’t give me the time of day if he knew I was crushing on him. We were in my history of psych class, which was inarguably the worst psych class I have ever had, and we studied together for every assignment and test and I realized that my feelings for him and for all the men I’d already mentioned were in direct conflict with my faith and relationship with God. My already agonizing spiritual conflict became even more wretched and as a result of this plus some other tightly-packed experiences with Mormonisms bullshit, I left the church.

After leaving the church I decided to move back to AZ and transfer to ASU. My mom helped me get a dog since I think it had started to dawn on my family that my mental health was barely getting me through the day, and she knew that we both loved dogs. Madi made my last year at BYU livable while I got my shit together and transferred. In that last year, I went on a date with quite possibly the only semi-openly-out trans person on BYU campus. It was not a great date imo, I was not doing well, but the person I spoke with was fun and fascinating and talked to me about Gender Dysphoria and it really cemented my need to go. To leave and never come back to that fucking school.

I started at ASU a month after my last semester at BYU and within a very short time frame it felt like I was coming back together, like a puzzle magically putting itself together in an environment that wasn’t slowly draining that puzzle’s will to live.

On the 4th of July, the year I started at ASU, I saw a transition timeline photo of a gorgeous happy beautiful happy radiant happy woman and her former Mormon missionary self and I realized the light that was on in her eyes was the light that was off in mine. I looked into transitioning for 3 days, sleeping about 10 hours total during that time. I started talking to other trans people on Reddit (one of whom is now my beautiful fiancée @cintailed) and after about a month of making preparations to be disowned and kicked out, something I was not sure would happen but was ready to go through to Turn On The Lights, I came out to my family and it was amazing. I started HRT a month after that. I secretly dated some dorky guys for about a year while I applied to grad schools. I got into a great grad school for me and my needs. I got FFS. I did my trainings and classes. Me and my fiancée moved in together after some LDR shenanigans. We’ve lived together now for 4 years of basically marital bliss. We have a cat named Grandmother Esmeralda Weatherwax who bites the hell out of my feet about three times a day. My bi-cycle continues to be part of my life but now it’s not as scary. Baby gays in my life have started to look to me for advice. Idk how this all happened so fast. When the years, months, weeks, days, and hours seems to crawl by so slowly now they are rushing past me so fast it’s almost bewildering. Whereas before I felt like I was living on borrowed time, past my ‘expiration date,’ now it feels like I can Fucking Breathe. I’m training myself to slow down now and it feels worth it to Live In The Moment.

Idk why I wrote this. Idk why these thoughts only seem to come up on Sundays when I’m supposed to be writing my dissertation. Idk why I’m crying rn or why I feel so happy. I’m gonna post this shit then get on with my dissertation I guess. Read more Terry Pratchett and give yourselves the time you need. Get a pet. Talk to someone. Re-examine the events that brought you here. Be gayer. Love y’all 💕

[xx-reverie-xx]

🖤Sevika HCs🖤

just random sevika hcs. broken up into categories for general, romantic, and nsfw headcanons respectively.

i didn’t try very hard while writing this, so my writing is probably subpar here but…yolo.

im in love with sevika so i add to this like every day …

men dni. minors dni. men dni. minors dni.

safe for enby lesbians. ♥️

general

* raging butch lesbian 🧡🤍🩷.

* her place is messy but in an organized chaos sort of way.

* she smells like cigar smoke (in a good way), leather, peppery mahogany, and a hint of something sweet.

* collects bottle caps. i can’t explain it, i just have a feeling she would!!

* extremely interested in Zaun’s history. she wont go into a full rant about it but she’ll drop interesting facts about it occasionally.

* has very, very cool, gay aunt vibes!!!

* cat person. just imagine her carrying a sweet little kitty with a sweet little smile on her face.

* actually an excellent cook.

* snores… hacks in the morning like a dad.

* before she lost her dominant arm, her hand writing was neat, very bold, and she wrote exclusively in all caps. she’s relearning her penmanship now.

* very heavy handed.

* completely quit smoking after she got a spot in piltover’s council and hardly drinks anymore.

* her carabiner is on the left side. she keeps the basics on it, so just her keys and one or two old key chains she has.

* in a modern au she would be into classic cars and the process of restoring them. her dream car is a 1970 mustang boss.

* on the topic of vehicles i can see her as a biker too. like, imagine seeing her taking off that helmet … swoon! imagine being her backpack … SWOON AGAIN!!!

romantic

* i feel like she doesn’t do romance very often, if at all. so you are one lucky ducky!

* it’s a lot for her to get used to so things develop slowly. patience is key here. she isn’t used to having someone really care about her, let alone love her.

* she’s pretty standoffish and awkward in the beginning. some might say stilted. she never really saw herself having a partner.

* just be patient with her and let her come to you.

* loves hugging you from behind

* if you’re with her at the last drop, she has her arm around you constantly. if it’s not that, she’s having you sit on her lap.

* she isn’t the jealous type at all. she knows that if you’re with her, if she choses you, she has nothing to worry about. if your loyalty to her falters, you’ve got a big storm coming.

* while she isn’t jealous, oh, boy, is she possessive. very big difference between those two. she’s also fiercly protective.

* got a creep flirting with you at the bar? she lets it be known that you are taken very quickly. is at your side in a second flat, arm wrapping around you all while staring daggers at the perpetrator.

* this woman is a capital F Flirt. will talk you up one side and down the other like it’s nothing. if you’re just someone she happens to lock eyes with at the bar, you guys could go back and forth with flirting and banter.

* BUT if you and sev have been together for a bit flirting can get her flustered from time to time. you know *just* what to say to her to make her short circuit a little bit. no one can get under her skin the way you can. /pos

* calls you baby. if you’re a femme, she calls you her femme. also fond of calling you “pretty baby”.

* surprisingly soft lips.

* kissing her feels like a dream. slow and sweet and sensual. complete with a warm hand on the side of your face or settled on your hip.

* sevika prefers a partner who can take care of themselves. after all, she’s a busy woman and she can’t always come to your rescue.

* her giving love language is acts is service. need something fixed? in classic butch fashion, she’s absolutely got you covered. do you drink coffee or tea in the morning? she’s got a cup ready for you in the morning, *just* the way you like it. she’ll do anything for you when she’s got the time.

* her receiving love language? words of affirmation. she likes to know that you think she’s *good*. that she’s doing a good job and that you see that.

* loves having her hair played with and her scalp massaged. if you have long nails it’s like a dream for her.

* would be so fucking whipped for you. you’re on her mind all the time. smiles when little things make her think of you. memorizes every little detail about you every chance she gets.

* actions over words. don’t expect crazy love letters or monologues about how much you mean to her. she shows how much she loves and cares for you almost entirely through actions.

* most likely wakes up before you and sits there for a little bit just to memorize every tiny little feature about your face. she never wants to forget what you look like.

* she doesn’t have a type. like, at all.

nsfw

* stone top. there. i said it. no questions. no ifs, ands, or buts.

* nipple piercings 🙈.

* oh, she is eating that thang. this woman is a munch. she would know just how to lick or suck you to make you come before you know it. it’s a very personalized experience.

* she learns you inside and out. knows every. little. thing that makes you tick.

* vocal. like, as in, she talks. she’s dirty about it too. all “oh, yeah? you like that baby?”, “be good for me, i know you can take it” or “i know what’s good for you, now fucking take it”. she talks you through it every time.

* weewooweewoo WE GOT A MAN HANDLER OVER HERE!!!! she will move you every which way, any way she needs you to be. if you’re flexible, she absolutely has fun with that.

* has a collection of straps. different strokes for different folks, am i right?

* will sex you with sensual r&b playing in the background.

* touching on one of her receiving love languages being words of affirmation …

* she loves to be praised.

* it’s something she would never explicitly ask you to do. it’s a subtle thing.

* it’s in the way she short circuits when you tell her how good she’s doing, how good she makes you feel. you can tell she likes that, knowing that she is good for you, in the way her hands tremble or her hips stutter or, if she’s going down on you, the way her eyes go soft.

* she will fuck you senseless and then be so, so sweet on you after. makes sure you’re taken care of, that there’s something for you to drink, has towels ready for you incase you don’t feel like showering for a while after you finish. seriously, it’s like two different people.

okay thats it. i am obsessed with this woman and just wanted to share some headcanons i had for her while i finish up a fic i’m trying to write🎠.

cant believe my first writing here was some random hcs but whatever!!!

requests currently open for multiple fandoms, including arcane :).

dividers by cafekitsune

[moongreenlight]

“Realistic Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley headcanons” and then it’s just the fun police.

Mdni. Nsfw below cut.

- It makes me want to scoop my fucking brain out with a spoon when people say that Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley is some shy, anxious soft boy. I really do not believe he’d need to be coddled after a nightmare or babied when he’s feeling angsty. He is fine, y’all. Please don’t call paw patrol.

He is a soldier. He’s a war criminal. He is traumatized to the point of numbness. He is fucked up and weird and insane and honestly I think that we should all let everybody have their thing.

I cannot fix him. I do not want to fix him. I can only make him worse.

- Sorry but I just cannot write him having any kind of romantic feelings toward Soap. I like writing their dynamic more brotherly.

Furthest they’ve gone is ‘locker room gay.’

Like Johnny sends him dick pics on occasion because he thinks it’s funny and it pisses Ghost off.

That being said, I do read the occasional Ghoap fic. I’m not a perfect person. Sometimes it’s just yummy delicious.

- Feel like he’s the kind of freak to intentionally go to the gym without headphones. Something about discipline. Opting to just stare at the wall in front of him while he’s doing cardio or counting repetitions of exercises.

But on the rare occasion that he does indulge himself, he has a playlist of like 5-6 songs he likes and when it ends he just goes back to silence. Divorced dad rock. Chorded headphones only.

- Doesn’t have the debilitating commitment issues as people paint him out to have. Just commitment-phobic. Obviously stems from his past. He’s got that sexy deep rooted fear of abandonment or something horrible happening to people he actually lets close to him. But he’s not completely turned off by the idea of romantic attachments or close friends, just a little hesitant to open himself up to that kind of opportunity.

Probably very cagey about romantic partners. Doesn’t want the guys to know about you. Doesn’t keep pictures of you around his bunk or anything like that. He’s worried it’ll somehow compromise your safety. Worried about you getting swept up in his work.

- Women’s rights? Or Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley? I really do think he’d love to have a partner who lets him provide *everything* for them. He just wants to serve and protect. Wants his bird to be in a gilded cage all nice and safe and reliant on him for survival.

Doesn’t even really like the idea of you going to the grocery store by yourself. Would prefer if you just stayed put and tended his home and cooked him meals and let him dote on you and provide everything you could ever need.

- Has a really strange understanding of technology. He’s fine with the newer military stuff. That’s his element. He can do electrical wiring, set up a TV, install security cameras. That’s all whatever. But a cell phone? He doesn’t give a shit enough to keep up with the new updates and all the new things you have to learn when you get a smartphone. Wishes he would have kept a flip phone.

Texts like this: [OK. See youtonight.]

MAYBE has a private Facebook with no profile picture where the only things on his wall are Price wishing him a happy birthday every year.

His camera roll is like; 97 accidental screenshots of his Lock Screen, a few pictures of him and the task force boys, the inside of his pocket (another accident), a sunrise, a few cool things he found on missions, 34 pictures of Soap and Gaz when they took his phone.

- Insufferable in the early stages of trying to date him. Little to no communication other than basically demanding you meet him somewhere. Texting or talking on the phone? Like pulling fucking teeth. You think he’d rather be dead.

It was a headache getting him to go out in the first place. Maybe you worked at a bar where the guys would come to have a drink after a long day. He’s a little stand-offish but he’s handsome and he knows how to banter well enough for you to be persuaded by a coworker to slip him your number after you complained one too many times about a shit hookup or yet another terrible first date. It takes him nearly two weeks to phone you.

“Didn’t think you’d call.”

“Didn’t think I would either.”

He takes you out once, you think he seems sort-of interested, then he doesn’t phone or text you back for three days. You get over it. A few more dates in. You can tell he’s a bit more relaxed. A bit more open. You’re less worried that you’re a terrible conversationalist. Then he goes on a month long deployment without saying anything in advance. Radio fucking silent yet again. You want to tear your hair out. When he finally gets back, he’ll text you something like [Atthat pub you like. Drinks ?] completely out of the blue. You think you may actually go insane.

- Once he’s gotten used to you, it’s like the sole purpose of his life is to be your protector even if you’ve only recently convinced yourself he may want something casual. You’re small and grab-able. He knows how nasty people can be and what think when they see you. He needs to know that you’re taken care of, kept safe from such a scary world.

So he’ll just linger around you. All the time. Standing behind you when you’re at the till at the store, staring down the cashier who was only trying to be friendly when they asked if you had any fun plans for the rest of the day. Big arms folded over his chest. Looming so largely he threatens to eclipse you without taking a single step forward. Eyes burning a hole into the poor person who hastily finishes the transaction without another word.

Walking silently next to you in the evenings after you’re both off work; close enough to brush shoulders, but that’s about it. Listening to you chirp on about your day. Occasionally offering a small grunt of acknowledgement or a few words of interjection. Always walks on the side of the path that he thinks could pose you the most immediate danger. Shielding you from what may lurk in a darkened alley or a hedge or a small thicket of trees.

Scary dog privilege, but like… for when you go to fill your car up with gas in broad daylight in a good part of town and he insists on standing out there with you. ‘Just in case’ If he even lets you out of the car in the first place.

- AND OFF THAT POINT. I think once he’s decided that he’s actually fond of you, it goes from zero to a hundred so fast it makes your head spin.

Like the last time you spoke, it was still unclear on if you were keeping things casual or not and now you’re at dinner and the waiter just asked him if the two of you wanted dessert and Simon just grunts “dunno. Ask the missus.” ??? He sucks so bad I NEED him.

- As much as I love an overly possessive and jealous Simon, I saw this tweet that said “My girlfriend can wear what she wants because she’s a hoe and I knew that before we started dating” and it changed my life.

He’s secure enough not to need to cause a scene if someone makes a pass on you in public. He understands that you’re attractive and that other people are bound to find you attractive too. (Not that he doesn’t still want to pull their fingernails out one by one, threatening them and everything they love for daring to exist near you. He’s just got better control over himself than that. King.)

He knows he’s better than any of your other options. Nobody else could keep you as safe as he could. They don’t know the world like he does. They don’t know how breakable you are. How sweet and naive you can be.

Not to say he isn’t overly jealous and possessive, he just won’t pitch a fit in public.

LIKE dragging him to the bar with your friends and he sits at the table with all of your drinks. Him watching you dancing out of the corner of his eye, seeing some prat come up and grab your ass in passing. Or a group of guys dancing with your friends getting a little *too* close to you for his liking. He doesn’t do anything while the two of you are out- not wanting to ruin your fun. But that night after you’ve gotten back to his flat (He insisted. Closer to the bar. Uber was cheaper.) and he’s tearing your miniskirt off like it’s personally offended him. He’ll be a little rougher. A little more liberal with the marks his mouth leaves on your collarbones and inner thighs. His strong hands will grab at the fat of your hips a little harder than he should- leaving bruises where his fingers dug in. He’ll lean over you while you’re split open with his length, snarling down at you. “Had everyone’s attention tonight, didn’t you, pet?“ “You like havin’ eyes on you?” “Greedy fuckin’ slag.” “Can’t appreciate what you have.” “Need a reminder of who you’ve got to impress.” Maybe he’ll take you in front of a mirror, massive hand fixed on your jaw. Jerking your face up so you have to look at yourself being ruined by him. How pretty and slutty you look when your makeup is ruined by the tears he’s fucking out of you.

- He calls you ‘bird’ or ‘pet’ more often than anything else. A little on the nose for how he treats you. Like you’re some small, frail thing that can’t go a day without him. Stripped of your natural survival instincts and instead leaning on him for support and comfort and food and shelter. Just how he likes it.

GOD he’s a fucking freak. Gross and mean and fucked in the head. Makes my stomach hurt. I hate him. I wish I was schizophrenic so I could vividly hallucinate him.

[fanonsupremecy]

Mickey they could never make me hate you. Even WHEN you were the dirtiest white boy in America. V THAT MAY BE TRUE but he's also soooo pretty so he gets a pass cuz he's so babyboy and babygirl and an angel that deserved so better like fucking love and compassion and pride and adoration from his fucking shithead father. (if you can't tell I'm on my season 2 shit) honestly he was so much more dirty white boy tm in season 1 tho...

”I came out for you, you piece of shit”

YES YOU DID MICKEY. YES THE FUCK YOU DID.

[cjlouwho]

“Tommy!” Eddie cheered, lifting his drink toward the sky as he spotted his friend walking toward him. “Whatcha doin' here, Man?”

“Figured I'd stop by and see how you were doing, Bud,” Tommy replied. He gave Eddie a pat on the back as he sat down in the empty seat next to him. “You come here alone?”

“Mhm. Needed ta get out. House's too quiet.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Too long,” the bartender interrupted as he walked by. “Was about to cut him off. I already took his keys.”

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed, looking around the bar counter. “Hey! You took my keys.”

“I got him,” Tommy said, giving the bartender a nod. “I gotta say, at least you're talking better than you're texting. I was worried.”

Eddie's face scrunched up in confusion. “Huh? I never did texted you.”

“Oh, I beg to differ.” Tommy fished his phone out of his jacket pocket and went to his messages. “'Buuuuuuuck, lezz drink, Buddy.' Then five minutes later, 'Bruck, why rn't you at bar? I waiting.' A good two minutes after that you sent me your location with an angry emoji. Then, and this is my personal favorite, 'Loser too busy kissy kissy with Tummy to be a friendship.'”

"Huh. Thought I was textin' Buck.”

“Yeah, I pieced that together.”

“So where's Buck if you're not kissy kissy?” Eddie asked, his final drink sloshing over his fingers as he attempted to bring it to his lips.

Tommy took the drink from Eddie and set it back on the counter. “Evan is watching Jee overnight so Howie and Maddie can have a night away. So, you wanna talk about whatever's bothering you? I mean, I could take a guess, but...”

“Nah. No, no, nope. I wanna,” Eddie pulled at the collar of his shirt. “Lessgo karaoke, Tomboy-”

“We're not calling me that.”

“I wanna sing to the rooftops,” Eddie continued, his words slurring more and more with each sentence. “I wanna. I wanna be, you know, be free, Tommy. I don't have a rea-,” he hiccuped, “reason to get back home.”

“Really? Seems like that's exactly where you need to be right now.”

Eddie's eyes widened, like he'd thought of the best idea in the entire world. “Let's go to Peeping Tom! That's your name!”

“Peeping Tom is a gay bar, Eddie.”

“I don judge.”

“A very kinky, fully nude gay bar,” Tommy clarified.

Eddie squinted, deep in thought. “No karaoke?”

“No karaoke.”

“Well, then were we go? Don't say home!”

“Home.”

“Ugh,” Eddie groaned, allowing Tommy to wrap an arm around his back and help him up. “You're like a no- no fun dad. Wish I'd texted fun dad.”

Tommy gripped onto Eddie tighter as he stumbled while taking a step. He sighed. “Maybe next time.”

*****

When Eddie woke up the next morning it was to a pounding headache and blinding sunlight coming through his window. He was nauseous and his mouth tasted like a mixture of gasoline and mouthwash.

He laid there for a few minutes, trying to figure out what happened that made him feel so unbelievably ill.

After a few failed attempts, he finally rolled out of bed and made his way into the kitchen to fix himself some coffee.

He froze when he walked through the door to see Tommy sitting there, reading the newspaper.

“Good... morning?” Eddie started, confused.

Tommy set the paper down. “Morning. Sleep well?”

“I- I think so, I guess. It's a little blurry.”

Tommy hummed. “Not surprising. Coffee just finished, if you want some. Your couch is not comfortable, by the way.”

“Buck's never complained.”

“Yeah, well, he's easier to please than I am.”

Eddie was too hungover for this. He had so many questions, but for some reason the first one out of his mouth was: “Where'd you put my shoes?”

“In your closet.”

He grabbed himself a cup for some coffee. “My keys?”

“We have to go pick them up at the bar today, along with your car, obviously.”

“You didn't close my curtains last night. Woke up thinking I was being interrogated by Ice T.”

Tommy sighed, leaning back in his seat. “'Thank you so much for getting me home safely, Tommy. Did it hurt your back having to drag me into the house while I belted out Bohemian Rhapsody at the top of my lungs?'” He stood, walking over to Eddie and taking the coffee out of his hand, drinking a big sip. “Thank you for asking, Eddie. I think my back will be okay, but my ears will never recover.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, turning to fix himself another cup. “Thank you for getting me home safely, Tommy. I appreciate it.”

“Mhm. No problem.” Tommy returned to his seat and Eddie joined him at the table. They sat in silence for a couple minutes, taking small sips of their drinks.

Eventually, Tommy set his cup down a little harder than normal, getting Eddie's attention with the clinking sound. “Wanna talk about it?”

“About what? How your coffee tastes like cigarette sludge?”

“I'll take that as a no then.” Tommy checked his watch. “The bar doesn't open until three. Want me to stop by and pick you up then?”

Eddie shook his head. “I can just get an Uber, Man, thanks though.”

“Of course. I'll, uh, let you recover.” Tommy stood and went to leave, checking his pocket for his keys and phone.

As he neared the door, Eddie spoke. “Wait,” he said. Tommy turned back to face him.

“Yeah?”

“Why'd you sleep on my couch?”

“You're my friend,” he answered simply. “You drank a lot. Wanted to make sure you were okay.” He took a step back toward the table. “Are you okay?”

Eddie cradled the mug in his hands, watching the steam rise from the cup. “You don't... How long has it been? Since you talked to your dad?”

Okay, so Tommy wasn't leaving then.

He came to the table and sat down, taking a moment to think about Eddie's question. “About six years, I think.”

“What did he do?” He looked over at Tommy. “To make you stop talking to him, I mean. Unless you don't wanna get into it. In fact, forget it, I shouldn't-”

“Eddie, it's fine,” Tommy assured him. “I don't mind.”

“Okay,” Eddie nodded, sitting up straighter. “So? What happened?”

“It wasn't just one thing,” Tommy explained. “It was a lifetime of things. He's... He's not a good man. I think the catalyst was about a year after I came out. I hadn't been home in awhile, so I decided to drive to his place one weekend. When he answered the door he said, 'What the hell are you doing here?' I told him I was coming to see him and he said, 'What's the damn point in that?' I thought about it for a second and realized that was a good question, so I turned around, got in my car, and left. Never looked back.” Eddie seemed to be contemplating his words, and Tommy could tell where this was going. “It's not the same thing, Eddie,” he said, beating Eddie to it.

“What if he doesn't come back? What I did, Tommy, it wasn't... It was bad.”

“You made a mistake.”

“I cheated on my girlfriend with a doppelganger of his mom, Tommy, and he caught me.”

“Granted, it was a big mistake,” Tommy deadpanned. “But, still a mistake. He'll come around. You gotta give him time.”

“People keep telling me that,” Eddie replied with an eye roll. “That he'll come around. But it's been months of nothing. And it seems like no matter what I do, it's not enough.”

“You're trying.”

Eddie huffed. “I'm not sure getting drunk alone at a bar is trying.”

“I think it shows you care, Eddie. And, yeah, that shouldn't become a habit, but you're allowed to be upset. You're allowed to hurt. You made a mistake, but you're a good dad and Christopher knows that. He will come around.”

“And if he doesn't?” Eddie asked, staring over at Tommy.

“Then you keep trying,” Tommy replied. “You never stop trying. Keep being there, keep sending him letters and getting him on Facetime. Go for a visit. Send him texts. I'm not saying you gotta smother him, but never let him forget that you're there. That's the biggest mistake you could ever make.”

“Yeah,” Eddie took a deep breath. “Yeah, you're right. I just... I gotta keep it up. Let him know I'm here, whenever he's ready.”

“Exactly.”

Eddie looked over at the clock on his stove, 11:32 staring back at him. He had no idea he'd slept so long. “Why don't you call Buck, see if he wants to come over and watch a game? Then you can drive me to my car.”

“Oh, you want me to call Evan? Don't you mean fun dad?” Tommy asked, eying Eddie.

It took him a minute, but the memory came back to him. “I did say that, didn't I?”

“You did,” Tommy confirmed. “Which I'm very offended by, by the way. I'm fun!”

Eddie sighed, his head drooping down. “I know you are.”

“I introduced you to karaoke trivia. I've flown you to Vegas.”

“I remember.”

“I never tried to seriously injure you in the name of love.”

“Which I'm very grateful for.”

“I don't have control issues when I have a clipboard in my hand.”

“Are you just gonna keep listing reasons why you're fun?”

“I once shoved three cupcakes in my mouth at once! Nearly choked to death, but Evan whacked me on the back and everything went down just fine.”

Eddie stood with his mug in hand, pointing toward the living room, “I'm gonna go to the couch. Get more comfortable.”

Tommy followed behind, pulling out his phone to call Buck. “I'll let Evan tell you who bowled a 230 last week. Hint: it was me!”

[alchemistc]

Part One

They don't tell anyone. Not about the marriage certificate, at least. Buck comes back from his conference with a new-old boyfriend and money exchanges hands despite protest from the losers that Bobby had inside knowledge.

(He did not.)

They put the rings away. They talk a bunch of shit out that they'd only skimmed the surface of on the patio of that dingy bar.

Buck buys him that beer.

Finally.

Things are - things aren't easy. Buck skips ahead in his own mind and desperately backpedals before Tommy notices (he hopes). Tommy continues to be tight lipped about things, goes with the flow more often than he should and absolutely hates being called out about it.

Eddie is slow to readjust to having Tommy back in their lives.

With Chris back, he swears up and down he believes Buck that they're both serious about this, but he invites Tommy over less, doesn't involve him in Chris's life as often. Buck tries desperately not to let Eddie's hesitancy inform any of the feelings bubbling in his chest, any of the half-formed futures in his head.

Bobby calls Tommy and they go out for coffee and Tommy spends a week pretending to be so fucking fine about whatever they talked about that Buck starts baking again.

Tommy's abs get a little less defined.

Buck takes him to a gay bar, because they never did that before, never explored anything that wasn't just the two of them, never talked about the community or the history or the impact of being queer. The first time someone approaches their spot at the corner of the bar, Tommy seems to be trying incredibly hard not to read into any of the reactions Buck is having, and failing miserably.

But the thing is. The thing is Buck did this on his own. Petty, unhappy, Tommy's words swirling in his head, he's tried a few dozen times to find another person remotely as appealing as the one at his side, and they'd all fallen short.

When the guy asks Buck if he wants to dance Buck blurts out words before he can think about it that he's absolutely certain are gonna send Tommy spiraling. "Appreciate the offer, but I'm here with my husband. We're celebrating."

The guy blinks. He's young. Younger than Buck, slim and attractive, dark brown eyes and light brown skin that glows golden even in the crappy bar lighting. His gaze darts almost eagerly between them, like he's seeing something he hadn't expected. Something hopeful blooms in his gaze, and Buck - oh.

Buck gets it.

That's a lot of weight to carry just for existing in the world and trying to snatch some happiness from it.

Buck smooths a hand over Tommy's knee and smiles at him, something soft and settled that has been harder to find this time around but still curls up against his spine like it belongs there.

The kid buys them a round and leaves.

"What are we celebrating?" Tommy asks, and Buck pretends not to notice the way his thumb is rubbing over the bare patch of skin where Buck had slid a ring, a few months ago. He's not freaking.

"Whatever we want," Buck says with a shrug, and doesn't mention that neither one of them have brought up the marriage certificate tucked away in Tommy's safe since they got back from Vegas.

---

"The Abby thing is still weird," Buck says, breath heaving as Tommy rearranges Buck's legs and tucks himself into Buck's side. They'd spent an evening talking candidly about their exes because Buck can't understand how they went six months without realizing.

Tommy's hands shift through the hair Buck stopped shaving the first time Tommy admitted he preferred it to the baby smooth skin Buck had tried desperately to maintain for the first four months. It's just now feeling normal, after so many years of keeping it smooth.

"I think she'd freak more than you did."

"I managed to implode a six month relationship with my freak, Tommy."

Tommy chuffs a laugh. Slides his calf up and down Buck's lower leg, and despite the fact that Buck has a few more notches in his belt that'd had that same scritch of hair against his, Buck relishes the feel just because it's Tommy.

"You had help." He pauses, though, tips his chin and tucks it against the give of Buck's shoulder. "I'm not implying her reaction was particularly homophobic, but - I think that was the worst part, for her. The fact that I hadn't just lied about how I felt. It was - she assumed I couldn't feel it."

Buck can't help the brow raise. "Tommy, you're a Kinsey six."

"I still loved her."

He's been working his way through romantic vs sexual vs platonic and learning a whole hell of a lot in the process. He gets Tommy's point. He's thrilled that Tommy is still in a sharing mood. It's just -

Tommy shifts, noses into Buck's underarm. Breathes deep, and Buck has to fight the urge to shove him away.

"If I'm totally off base here tell me, but I think you loved her like I love Eddie."

Tommy narrows his eyes. Contemplates. "Tell me again how jealous of his hair you were when you met," he decides on, and shrieks when Buck digs a finger into his ribs in retaliation.

---

They fight, and it's thrilling.

They never did that before. Minced their words and apologized and let it all drop away but never actually let it go, and when Tommy gets on a roll he's bitchy as hell. It drives Buck insane. He wants to wring his fucking neck. He wants to take him to the mat and actually learn enough about Muay Thai to stand a chance lasting two minutes. He wants to throw him against a wall and jack him off until he sees stars.

"He wouldn't do the same for me, Evan, so why should I bother?!"

Tommy's dad is dying. According to Tommy, it's days or weeks, not months or years, and Tommy had said it so emotionless that Buck had jokingly tried to check him for panels and plugs and wiring. Tommy hadn't appreciated the robot joke.

"Screw your dad, Tommy! Do it for yourself."

"I'm not like you, Evan! That bridge burned a decade ago. I don't need - ." He pinches the bridge of his nose. Grimaces and sucks in a breath. Usually that means he's yanking back words he knows he'll regret. Rearranging them in his mind until they're less likely to sting. "I don't want a death bed reconciliation any more than I want to be proven right about him."

Buck takes two weeks off to help Tommy plan the funeral.

Tommy tosses the contents of the urn into the ocean two weeks later, and when Buck asks about it, Tommy gives him a shifty look, like he thinks the answer might send Buck running. "He hated the ocean."

It's the last time they talk about his dad, for a while.

[kurikive]

CASUAL | danielle marsh.

— "is it casual now?"

6thmember!reader, situationship/fwb but nothing sexual, angst, fluff at the end i promise, dani swears, reader is a (closeted) lesbian, reader is horrible at reading people, written in 2nd person, they work it out on the remix

warnings : A LOT of internalized homophobia !! reader refers to herself multiple times as a predator but it's just from fear and insecurity, nothing actually predatory is happening in the story. extremely brief mentions of starvation

wc: 5.4k words

inspired by: Casual — Chappell Roan

you and danielle marsh are friends. more than co-workers, you're friends. although you don't have that much in common except for your age, it was easy to adapt to the harsh environment of the k-pop industry's training system with someone like danielle by your side.

she's always been a ray of sunshine in everyone's lives, you're not the exception. if you were in a bad mood, tired from waking up in the early morning everyday, worked to the point of exhaustion, danielle would be there rubbing your shoulders and saying something sweet like

"you're doing great, y/n! keep up!"

and then you'd smile at her, and she'd smile back, and you'd feel so much better, thanks to danielle.

you didn't have many interests in common. music taste, fashion sense, movie picks, food preferences, personality types, if anything you were almost her complete opposite. and yet, she sat in your bed every night while you scrolled on your phone, talking for hours until it the clock hits midnight and she goes back to her room.

danielle did most of the talking, and you carefully listened to everything she said. the enthusiasm in which she enunciated all her words was endearing to listen to, and it couldn't not bring a smile out of you. the girl never forgot to give you your chance to speak too, trying to get to know you better everyday.

there was one thing she could not know, however. that you're a lesbian.

if it was hard enough being gay in korea, it was ten times harder when you were about to debut in a girl group, in one of the biggest companies in the industry at the moment nonetheless.

there were times where the members would all gather and have girl talks, talking about things like movies, celebrity crushes, past boyfriends and all that stuff, and you felt left out every single time.

sometimes it's more a curse than a blessing that danielle notices everything, because when she asks, "who's your celebrity crush, y/n?", "what do you look for in a boy, y/n?", "have you ever had a boyfriend, y/n?", you never know how you're supposed to respond.

it wasn't safe. it'll never be safe.

you've known the girls for almost a year and there has never been an indication of the way they felt about the LGBTQ+ community. hanni was your safest bet, she seemed the most open minded, but then again you can never be sure.

they were all so painfully straight.

so you try your best to answer vaguely,

"i don't know.", "i'm not sure, i don't really think about that." they complain a little about your mysteriousness, but it doesn't take long for them to let it go and move on.

you don't know how long you have to keep pretending you're not sure. you are sure.

you like girls.

you don't want to keep pretending you don't. but how would they feel?.

they'd feel unsafe, uncomfortable, scared, exposed to a threat, a possibility of being prey to a predator, a little voice in your head tells you.

but you're not. you're not a predator. they know you're not a predator. you'd never do anything to hurt them, or make them uncomfortable.

so you keep pretending. but the shell is starting to crack, and a knot in your throat gets tighter everytime you hear your members ask "is he your type?".

your debut is only a couple months away. you pray to god hanni has noticed by now. she's your roommate after all.

you start playing some specific songs without your headphones in hopes she walks by or enters the room and notices. you hope she's the one that asks. but she doesn't, she never mentions the songs, ever.

so you move on to movies and shows.

when she catches you watching heartbreak high in the living room TV, she only says "oh they're aussies, right?"

when she sees you watching heartstopper on your phone while eating dinner she just says, "kit connor is soooo handsome."

she doesn't mention it when she goes into your room and you're playing but i'm a cheerleader on your laptop. but hanni has caught on.

and the next time she goes into your shared room, she closes the door behind her. you're in your bed, and you're staring at each other, both of your eyes shine with nervousness.

"can i ask you something?" she says from the door, so shakily you start fearing she's not going to take it like you wish she would.

"sure." you didn't mean for your voice to come out as quiet as it did.

it's a nerve-wracking couple of seconds watching hanni take a seat in her own bed and face you. she takes a big breath before asking, "do you- no, sorry. are you... gay?"

yes, yes, yes. i am a lesbian. i like girls. you want to scream, but the realization of reality strangles you and your throat feels so tight, and you can't say anything.

"it's not like there's anything wrong about it, i'm just... asking." she tries. you can tell she's trying. it's sweet that she's trying.

"yes." it's a struggle to get it out, and your heart starts racing, but just being able to feels like such a relief that you might start crying. but then fear washes down on you again when you can't read hanni, at all.

"i'm really sorry, hanni. i promise i'm not weird or predatory or anything, i would never try to make you uncomfortable and i'm sorry if i ever did. i promise i don't like you like that, not that you're not attractive or anything, that's not what i mean at all. i just- i would never like you like that, you're like my sister and i promise that i'm still the same y/n you met, i really hope this doesn't change anything in our-" she cuts off your rambled apology-slash-explanation with a hug.

"it doesn't. i promise." it hits you now, just now, that hanni knows. she knows.

"please don't tell the others." you're choked up, and that's the only thing you could say before the tears in your eyes caught up. i don't know how they'll take it, you want to say, but the only thing that comes out is a broken sob.

"i won't. it's okay, y/n."

you've grown closer to hanni than you'd ever thought you would. you spend your nights in your room talking and laughing and watching funny videos you send each other.

it's been a few months since you've debuted and you couldn't be happier. you had someone to rely on, someone who knows all your secrets and can trust her with them, and vice versa.

your career has skyrocketed and your popularity is through the roof, and although there are always negative consequences that come with that fame, it's been mostly great on your end.

danielle doesn't really hang out in your room to talk anymore. if you're honest, you kind of miss it, but she surely has her reasons, and you don't think too much about it.

you're currently in one of the vocal practice rooms at HYBE, setting up your phone to do a phoning live. you'd just finish your vocal practice and you had asked for permission beforehand.

after a few minutes of talking with your fans, recommending movies and talking about food, you hear a knock on your door. quite strange.

"yeah? who is it?" you yell loud enough to no cause any ruckus. the door slightly opens and a face peeks inside, "it's me!" danielle's signature smile shining brightly at you, "i saw you were live and wanted to come hang out."

you didn't even need to tell her anything before she was coming right inside the room to grab a chair and sit beside you. "well, come hang out then!" you face your screen to see danielle struggling to bring the chair closer to you, and you chuckle a bit. "dani's here, guys!"

danielle has always been very touchy; with everyone, that is. today was not the exception, resting her head on your shoulder, holding your hand and locking your fingers together, nuzzling her face in your neck, it's all things you're already used to.

it's never been more than just friendly showcases of affection, to you, at least. and you've also never been irritated by it, but there's some guilt you try to suppress.

you don't want to push her away, you're not uncomfortable with her actions, what is uncomfortable is her potentially finding out your sexuality and thinking you let her shower you with affection for your own amusement. you fear it. but you don't want to think about that right now.

you think about it again, however, when you go back home and open social media only to see videos and threads with thousands of likes and views compiling every sweet moment of affection that happened just mere hours ago.

there's a pang in your chest when you see the tens of delusional comments talking of how much they'd like to see you and your friend as a couple. it feels like you're being strangled, and you suddenly feel unwell, so you close the app and turn off your phone.

"i should watch a movie."

you fully believe your debut was your prime. everyday gets harder, scandal after scandal, comeback after comeback, day after day. you work really hard, your members know, your fans know. but it never looks like it's going to get easier.

you win awards, win some more, get another important deal, shoot another session, write another song, the cycle repeats although not in the same order. like a fucked up loop. you're so fucking tired.

you wonder how hyein is holding up. you care a lot for her, like your little sister. she seems okay, eating a bowl of yogurt and fruits in the living room with haerin and hanni. are you the only one having a hard time?

you need to relieve your stress, and there's really no other option other than going to the gym to work out. so you go back to your room to lazily change into your practice clothes and grab your backpack, "i'm going to the gym." you try your best to sound at least a little enthusiastic as you walk behind the living room couch.

"when are you coming back?" you hear danielle ask from the kitchen, a twinge of concern in her voice. "it might start raining soon."

"i won't take long. if i see it starts to get cloudy i'll get going." you try to put her worries at ease. your gym doesn't have windows, though.

you shouldn't have gone. you're not even supposed to go anyway. it's raining hard, and it might start storming soon. but your manager can't know you're here. one of the many downsides of being in a group with four minors and two barely-adults, you can't call any of them to pick you up. so fuck it, you're taking the public transportation.

kind of extremely risky considering you are literally in newjeans, but okay. what else is there to do? what you failed to consider is the only bus stop being about five blocks away. and the bus doesn't drop you off even remotely close to the dorms. so you're gonna be running in the rain and, fuck it again, you do just that.

the first five blocks to the bus stop weren't that bad, you didn't get soaked like you imagined, blocking most raindrops with your backpack over your head. you really should've just brought an umbrella, though.

good thing you brought a mask, at least. nobody seemed to recognize you on the bus. you take a seat as close as possible to the exit and take out your phone to hurriedly text the group chat.

i got a bit caught up, im omw

domt worry 2 much

ill b there soon :))

minji responds with a thumbs up, hanni leaves an "idiot" that gets a like reaction by haerin. you see danielle write and then stop writing about 3 times, but she ends up not sending anything at all, so you just turn off your phone and look outside for your stop.

it only takes a couple minutes of waiting to see the silhouette of your dorm building. you get off your seat and wait for the bus to halt at the next stop to get off. it's raining a bit harder, but there's nothing you can do except wing it.

and when you get off, you immediately put your backpack on top of your head and start running as fast as you could towards your dorm. you get some looks, but no one can possibly be able to recognize you, not at the speed you're going.

after a few minutes, your legs start getting tired not only from running, but all the exercise you did hours earlier. another thing you failed to consider in this mediocre, careless plan.

but you're almost there. and you're almost not soaked.

by the time you reach your building the only thing about you that isn't wet is your scalp. you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket, it's probably one of your members, but you're almost there, you can't pick up.

you enter the gates of the apartment, and you're probably going to make a mess on the floor on the elevator, but your legs can't take it anymore, and you thank any god that hears your prayers when the elevator doors open and it's empty. you can't take more embarrassment right now.

the doors open once again and you try not to make much noise as you run towards your dorm. someone inside must've heard you fumbling with your keys because as soon as you find the right one the door is already open, a concerned danielle with a just as worried minji behind her. you smile at the sight of them. "hello!"

"get your ass inside!" you hear hanni shout from the couch.

you're drying your hair in your room after taking a shower and explaining the situation to your group members. just as you're about to turn on your phone to see what time it is you hear a knock on your door, "can i come in?" it's danielle.

"yup. come on in!" you answer a lot more energized than a couple hours before. danielle's not wearing her usual bright smile, but rather a more worried expression. "y/n, can we talk?"

you're confused. you've never heard or seen her like this before. she's obviously been worried before, she cares about you just as much as the others, but this time it's different. "yeah, what's up?" you try your best to respond calmly and tap a stop in the bed beside yourself, which danielle gladly takes.

"are you okay?" she asks as she settles down at your side. what?

"what do you mean?" you don't notice it but you start fidgeting with your own fingers. danielle notices.

"it's just," she tries looking somewhere else, but she can't help the need of looking into your eyes all the time, looking for some sort of sign, some crack, "i can tell you're stressed. you're tired and... if you need to talk i just want you to know that i'm here." her eyes are dripping honey and her hand is so warm when she grabs yours.

you show her a sluggish smile, "thanks, dani. i appreciate that." when you look back, her face is already finding it's way to the crook of your neck. "i'm just a little tired of everything. it really feels like i'm doing the same things all over again. i know we've achieved a lot as a group but i feel like i have nothing going on for myself." you sigh, danielle says nothing, urging you to continue.

"all the songs i pitch get turned down, my other drafts feel too personal to release as a group song. every song i write with the group in mind feels, i don't know, empty?"

your eyes unfocus as a wave of emptiness washes over you and the only thing you feel is a water droplet from your bangs fall and travel down your temples. and also the warmth shared by danielle's hand in yours.

"i just feel like nothing's going on in my life." you feel danielle's head leave your shoulder and you turn to look at each other at the same time, "i think i know how you feel." she says with the sweetest eyes ever.

"thanks for listening, dani." you smile at her, but it feels so strange when she doesn't smile back. she just stares, right through you. her eyes are so pretty; you've always known but this is the first time you've looked at them directly for so long (there's really nothing else for you to look at when she's so close to your face).

oh, yeah. in a sudden moment you were inches apart. you don't remember moving so it must've been danielle.

you don't really understand what's going on. maybe this is an eye contact battle and you're not supposed to blink. and you think for a moment you had it easy because suddenly danielle's pretty eyes are nowhere to be found and you're staring at her eyelids and long eyelashes instead.

before your brain even thinks of giving you the chance to mutter "i win!" in a silly manner, you feel your own lips getting shut. covered, enveloped by another set of softness.

oh. this is not what you expected at all.

what are you even supposed to do right now? well, pull away, obviously. but that could could give danielle the impression that you hate everything about this and, really, that's not true at all. it's good. well, not good, but- danielle is not horrible at kissing.

what even is happening, anyway? i mean, you're kissing. but what else? nothing feels like it's moving; it feels like time's stopped. there also hasn't been anything that has lead up to this happening.

so you're just left there, paralyzed, in shock, waiting until danielle pulls away. just waiting until she's done with you. until she's satisfied.

and it's until danielle notices that you're not moving that she realizes what she's done. she pulls away, shaken and distraught.

"y/n, i am so sorry. i don't know what came over me, i am so so so sorry. i really didn't mean to do that. please forgive me, y/n, i am really so sorry." at this point, danielle's voice starts to break. "i don't know why i did that, it's just, i don't know, you just looked good a-and we were just close and-"

"it's okay, dani. i know."

"no, y/n, i really am sorry. i-"

"dani, i swear it's fine." you grab her shoulder to reassure her, but is anything really fine right now? "i..." you don't really know what to say next. "i don't, like, hate you or anything. i understand things like that happen. i'm not mad at you."

"really?" you've never seen her tear up so fast. you definitely didn't expect her to tear up at this. but you know the feeling of guilt so well you can't help but feel sympathy for her. "are you sure? i promise it won't happen again."

"i'm sure, dani. you could never do anything to make me hate you."

you smile at her, she sniffles. it's the last thing you hear before you hear the sound of her wristwatch's seconds ticking. you don't really know what's going through her head. you count about 34 ticks.

"did you hate it?" her voice isn't weak, but it is lower than you normally expect it to be.

you're stunned, but the way she looks at you so earnestly, with a hint of nervousness in her eyes forces you to answer within seconds, "n-no! dani, i didn't... hate it. it was just unexpected. i didn't really process it at first." it's the truth, but it feels so gut-wrenching to say.

another 20 ticks of quiet.

"can i do it again?"

hello? hello? what is going on? hello?

"i-i mean, if you want to." it sounds more like a question than a proper answer. and danielle takes it anyway.

you don't have any romantic feelings for danielle, that's for sure. she's said she doesn't have any feelings for you either. that's established. and yet when hanni is too caught up watching movies in the living room with minji and hyein, danielle is always there, sitting in your bed.

sometime's it's just little pecks while you cuddle and watch something she doesn't care much about. sometime's she's on the verge of kissing the living shit out of you.

it's never more than that. none of you let it be more than that. it's more than okay.

it's comfortable. it's casual.

and yet, every time it happens, you feel guilt eat at your stomach.

because danielle doesn't know. and she can't know.

it's not like this was your idea in the first place, it was danielle's. but the fact that you let her do it anyway could be predatory enough for her to feel unsafe if she ever did find out. even if she's the one who caused this all.

and never once do you think about yourself while it happens. it's not a moment for you, it's a moment for danielle to take. and you're okay with that. as long as she's okay with it.

you're okay with many things just because danielle is okay with them.

if danielle wants to watch a romcom, you watch a romcom. if danielle wants to eat plain yogurt, you eat plain yogurt. if danielle wants to kiss you, you let her kiss you.

it's not that big of a deal if there are no feelings involved. it's just a matter of believing that that's actually true.

you let her do whatever she wants because you're scared to do the taking. because taking feels like stealing, and doing feels like attacking. and you're so scared to hurt danielle that you forget you can also hurt yourself.

but if it's so casual, why doesn't she let go of your hand? why does she call you pretty everyday? why does she look at you with those pretty eyes like you're her whole world?

was the "i love you" she said yesterday something she meant as platonic love? is there such a thing as casual love?

was it just the sound of the raindrops on your window that made you hallucinate the sound of a love confession?

you don't eat anything for the rest of the day.

minji and hyein are visiting their parents. hanni and haerin are out of the country. and you're in the dorm kitchen trying to figure out how blurred the lines are while you mix the milk into your tea.

you feel your heart drop when you hear the sound of footsteps of the line-blurrer herself over the sounds of light rain. it hasn't stopped since the day before.

you don't want to feel anything right now, you don't want to hear anything right now.

she wraps her arms around your waist and says, "good morning." with that big bright smile on her face. at one point it started hurting when she did, but you don't remember when.

she smells like the candles you burnt in your room two days after hanni left. you were trying to get rid of danielle's scent from your room, but you couldn't tell her that, so you just said you were trying something new.

danielle notices you say nothing back, and your eyes are nowhere in particular. "watchu thinkin' about?" her always cheery tone gets you out of your trance, and she notices when you stop stirring the spoon in your cup. you're still silent for a bit, but she lets you take your time.

"i don't think we should do this anymore, danielle."

you tense up when her arms leave your waist, but it feels oddly freeing. you don't turn back to face her.

"what do you mean?"

"are we still casual?"

there's disbelief in danielle's voice when she speaks, "what are you talking about? of course we are!" but she sounds dishonest, in a way.

"really?" that's when you turn around, her eyes are wide and her cheeks are quite flushed but nothing about her seems guilty at all, "because saying "i love you" doesn't seem quite casual to me."

she scoffs, "y/n, i tell all my friends i love them. it's a normal thing!"

"i'd agree with you if we weren't kissing on the low. it's a little too much on top of that."

"i don't know what you think casual means but-"

"what i mean is we should stop before the lines start to blur, that's if they haven't already." you don't want to yell at her. you hope she understands before you have to raise your voice. "we are public figures, famous figures. if this goes wrong we can't go back and that could potentially ruin everything, not only for us but for our group."

"well, it can't go wrong if there's no feelings involved, can it?" danielle is usually playfully sassy, but she's never responded to you like this before.

"we're human, danielle. feelings can't be stopped." you're not too good at reading people, but you can see something has clicked in danielle's brain.

"what i'm getting is that you developed feelings for me while we were casual, is that right?" she seems so sure and confident that it annoys you. it frustrates you. and you want to cry.

"no, that's not what i said. but i am scared of it happening, and i want this to stop before it has the chance to."

"well, you should've thought of that before you said yes." you never really did.

"why are you upset, anyways?"

"b-because!" her voice gets louder, "i just wanted this to be casual, and now your telling me you're scared of catching feelings, it's just weird. that's all."

you sigh, "listen, i don't want this to end on a bad note. i just-"

"well, i don't want this to end at all!"

it takes you a minute to believe what you're hearing.

"a-are you hearing yourself?" it's shocking, it really is, "this is crazy, why are you being so selfish right now?"

"because it feels good! okay?!" danielle has completely let go of the loose strings of morality she was holding on to, "it fucking feels good, a-and you make me feel good. i like it when we kiss, and i like it when we cuddle and, and, i just like it, okay?!" that's the first time you've heard danielle curse in your entire life.

"okay, well, i'm glad you did. but i don't. i don't feel good at all." it's so scary and risky because you're two seconds away from telling her the truth, and this could potentially damage both your careers irreversibly, but you can't think of any lie or excuse that is true enough to keep hiding it.

"i drown in guilt every time we kiss and i feel like i'm choking when you look at me these days."

you've never seen her look so confused, like she really doesn't understand you. because she never had to.

"why?"

"i am a lesbian, danielle." you can't shatter, not now. "and it kills me because you'll never understand how hard it is to hide like this for so long. and yes, we hide this casual thing from our members, but after this is over you don't have to hide anything at all and i still have to hide everything."

she says nothing. her eyes soften, but you can't read them. not like you ever could.

"i didn't catch feelings for you, but i could, and you're not helping out. and you don't have to worry about that. you don't have to worry about your members being disgusted at you for something you can't change. you don't have to pretend. you don't have to be scared that you're making someone uncomfortable by simply existing beside them. i had to pretend i didn't care when you kissed me, i had to pretend to be okay when you kissed me again. i've been pretending to be okay with so much i don't know what being okay is anymore."

danielle still says nothing.

"but that's all gone to shit now, hasn't it?" your voice can't break now, but it does anyway, even when your not done speaking. "i can't be okay with everything. i can't be casual about everything, danielle. not anymore." there's a hot tear running down your cheek, but you try to hold yourself together.

"i never want to hurt you, ever, danielle. but i am seriously hurting myself. i am eating myself from inside out. there's nothing casual about that."

"i think i might be in love with you." is the first thing she says in minutes. and that's when you shatter completely. you turn around to leave your mug of now cold tea on the counter and you rest your elbows on it to hide your face in your hands.

"do you think that helps?" you're sobbing.

"i'm sorry. i know it doesn't. i just had a moment of realization and i think that's why i was so upset. i didn't want you to end this because i was in love with you since the start and didn't realize."

"this is fucking crazy." it really is, that's why you can't hold down the laugh of complete astonishment that leaves your lips. "do you realize how crazy this is? i just came out to you and you're- i don't even want to think about this."

"i'm really sorry, y/n." it's the first time you see guilt in danielle's face in a long time. "i really am. i really didn't know, i- i didn't know anything at all."

"you were upset of me potentially having feelings for you when it was you the whole time, huh?" this is no time or place to make jokes, you're literally crying as you speak. but this is hilarious. danielle seems to think so too given she also laughs.

"i don't know what i was thinking." she says, hiding her face in her palm in embarrassment.

"i wish i knew too." you say, "i never do."

"so what now? i mean, you clearly don't like me back." you don't understand how danielle does it. she never looks away, she faces the truth, something you're unable to do easily.

"that's a good question, i actually never thought about that." i mean, you thought the possibility of danielle ever liking a woman, let alone you, was at a mere 0.1%, can you blame yourself for not thinking of a solution to this?

"i mean, you did say you could."

"selfish asshole." you mutter to yourself, but danielle hears it anyways. "hey!"

"i'm crying right in front of you out of fear and frustration, have some respect, dude."

"i would say it wouldn't hurt to try but it clearly does so i don't know what you want to do." wow, danielle really could never do anything to make you hate her. nothing at all. "i don't mind being the selfless one this time."

"cheesy." she's always been like that, you can't say you hate it. "i'll reheat my tea and think about it."

danielle waits for you. maybe it wouldn't be so bad to risk falling in love with her too. you've risked it once.

the microwave beeps and you take your mug out. it's hot again. you turn to face danielle and she's still there, hasn't moved an inch. "i'm willing to give it a try. but nothing casual."

she shines you the widest grin you've ever seen from her. "nothing was ever casual, i fear."

"i still can't believe you cursed." you say as you walk past her to go to your room (that probably smells like danielle's perfume again).

"i did?!" she trails behind you. you nod. "i almost jumped."

"hey, am i the first one to know?"

"what, that i'm a lesbian?" she nods, now beside you. you shake your head after a sip of your tea.

"hanni knew."

"i'm not even the first? fuck..." is she doing this on purpose... she has to be, right?

"dude? hello?"

"don't dude me, i'm your future girlfriend." she hits your arm as you walk into your room. you don't know what you're gonna say to hanni when she comes back.

"confident much? shut up and pick a movie to watch." you'll figure it out later.

end.

🗒️ this wasn't as long as i thought it was gonna be THANK GOD

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER (day 10)

pairing: darkish!marvel ladies x fem!reader, wanda x reader, natasha x reader, kate x reader, yelena x reader, carol x reader, maria x reader - multiverse

summary: you find yourself shyly admitting your desire to be with them... and they love it

warnings: possessive behavior, teasing, edging, dirty talk, swearing

wordcount: 3.9k

an: last day of kinktober wohoo, enjoy halloween my little gays and be safe!!!

part one here!

Hours later, you’re sprawled across the bed, Wanda´s? Natasha´s? You´re not really sure, feeling a hazy warmth as the adrenaline fades and soft laughter fills the room. You’re nestled between Wanda and Natasha, each of them gently stroking your hair. Kate lies at the end of the bed, propped on her elbow, eyes glinting with a lingering mischievousness as she watches you with a fond, satisfied smile. While Carol is taking a shower and Maria is just sitting in the chair.

“Look at her,” Kate murmurs, her tone laced with both awe and amusement. “We might have worn her out.”

Wanda hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “Worn out or not, she’s still perfect,” she whispers, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your shoulder. There’s an undeniable pride in her gaze, something that feels as possessive as it is affectionate.

Natasha smirks, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face, her expression softer than usual. “Precious is an understatement,” she says, her voice still rough but now tempered with a quiet admiration. “I think we might have a problem if anyone else finds out how amazing she is.”

You chuckle weakly, warmth blooming across your cheeks as their words sink in, and Wanda gives your hand a squeeze, her thumb brushing tenderly over your knuckles. “Don’t worry, malysh,” she murmurs. “You’re ours. We’ll make sure of that.”

Kate lets out a laugh, reaching over to give you a playful poke on the arm. “Hey, remember, Captain gets all the best cuddles,” she teases, eyes twinkling. “I wasn’t joking earlier. So make some room for her too.” She winks, making the girls roll their eyes.

Carol steps out of the bathroom, her hair still damp from the shower, wearing only a loose tank top and shorts. She glances over, a smirk tugging at her lips as she takes in the scene of you nestled among the others.

“Looks like I missed the after-party,” she murmurs, eyeing the way Kate’s hand rests on your arm and Wanda’s fingers trace gentle circles on your shoulder. She raises an eyebrow at Natasha, who’s standing up and adjusting her clothes.

Natasha gives Carol a knowing look and nods. “I’ll be back in a little while. Just have to… deal with something.” The tone in her voice is vague but carries weight, and the other women exchange glances, an unspoken understanding passing between them.

You, however, just watch as Natasha slips out the door, wondering what exactly she has to handle. But before the thought settles, Carol slips onto the bed beside you, drawing your attention back to the moment. Her arm wraps around you with a lazy familiarity, pulling you against her as she gives you a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Missed me already?” she teases, her voice low and warm, her fingers trailing down your arm in a way that sends a pleasant shiver through you.

You chuckle, nestling into the warmth of her embrace. “Maybe,” you say, trying not to sound too eager, though the comfort of her presence makes your heart flutter.

Kate grins, leaning over to you, “careful, or Captain here will get spoiled by all the attention. Next thing you know, she’ll be monopolizing all your time.” Her voice is teasing, her eyes gleaming as she shoots Carol a challenging look.

Carol chuckles, tilting her head as she meets Kate’s gaze. “Oh, you’re one to talk, Bishop. As if you don’t hog enough time with her already.”

“Both of you,” Wanda interjects, her tone light but possessive as her hand smooths over your arm. “We all know who she comes to for the real quality time.” She smirks at you, her fingers curling around yours in a gentle but unmistakably possessive hold.

You feel your cheeks flush under their collective attention, a warm glow settling over you as each of them stakes their playful claim. Maria, still sitting in the chair by the bed, shakes her head with a soft smile, watching the scene unfold with a quiet amusement.

“I mean, can you blame her?” she teases, crossing her legs and leaning back. “With all of us making sure she feels… appreciated, she’s got it pretty good.”

Carol chuckles, tightening her arm around you and brushing a kiss to your temple. “We’ll keep you occupied until Nat gets back. We can’t have you getting bored.”

Wanda leans in close, her voice a soft murmur against your ear. “Or distracted. We like keeping you right where you belong… with us.” Her lips brush your cheek, her gaze lingering as if daring you to look away.

As you sink deeper into the warmth of their embrace, a faint thought tugs at the back of your mind. Where did Natasha go? You can’t help but wonder, a trace of curiosity and concern flickering through you.

But before you can follow the thought any further, Wanda’s fingers brush your cheek, and you glance over to find her looking at you with a knowing smile. Her gaze is soft yet focused, and for a second, you feel as if she’s reading every unspoken question in your mind. Wanda’s eyes narrow slightly, a subtle, affectionate warning, as she exchanges a quick glance with the others, a silent cue for them to keep your mind occupied.

Carol picks up on it immediately, shifting closer to you and giving your shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Pretty little thing,” she teases, her tone light as her hand trails down your arm. “are you here with us?”

You hum, Wanda looks at you, pulling your attention back to her as she strokes a finger along your jawline, her eyes glinting playfully. “Let Natasha handle her business, malysh. She’ll be back soon.” Her words are soft but intentional, grounding you in the moment.

Kate leans forward, a mischievous gleam in her eyes as she tilts her head. “Or are you just that eager to get rid of us?” She arches a brow, her grin widening as she watches you, daring you to respond.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Not at all. You all make it… pretty easy to stay right here,” you admit, warmth pooling in your chest under their collective attention.

Maria’s voice joins in, her tone smooth but with a hint of playfulness. “See? Nothing to worry about, sweetheart.” She leans back in her chair, crossing her arms with a satisfied smile. “You’re exactly where you need to be.”

As you sink deeper into their warmth, a sudden, pleasant haze settles over you, a fuzzy, dizzying sensation that leaves your mind feeling light and blissfully blank. Each touch, each brush of their fingers on your skin, starts to feel heightened, like every sensation is magnified a thousand times over. Your senses are filled with them, the soft murmurs, the warmth of their bodies.

You feel a soft, warm pulse at the edges of your mind, almost like a lullaby. Your eyelids flutter, and you catch Wanda’s gentle smile, her gaze holding a spark of focus. Her fingers trail along your arm, featherlight and soothing, and the faint traces of questions about Natasha and everything beyond this room begin to slip away. In this moment, there’s only the soft laughter of the others around you, only the warmth spreading through you like the gentlest wave.

You notice the way the others glance at each other, small smirks and knowing looks passing between them. Carol’s hand finds yours, her thumb brushing along your knuckles, and the touch feels so overwhelmingly perfect that it melts any lingering thoughts from your mind. Kate’s laugh breaks through the fog, and she gives you a playful nudge, bringing you fully back into the comfort of the moment, leaving everything else forgotten.

The world outside this room disappears entirely, replaced only by the shared laughter, tender touches, and the feeling that you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be wrapped in their warmth and undivided attention. Maria smiles and sends Natasha a simple text, "We got it all secured here, Wanda took care of it."

The morning light filters into the room, waking you gently. As you stretch and sit up, you realize you’re alone. Wanda, Kate, Carol, and Maria have all gone, leaving only the faintest scent of them behind and a folded note on the pillow next to you.

Good morning, gorgeous. Thought we’d let you get some extra sleep, didn’t want to wake you. See you later. Love, W.

You smile, tucking the note to your chest as you savor the quiet moment, replaying the warmth of last night in your mind. But then you remember something else. Yelena’s invitation, her mischievous smile as she’d told you to come to her room once you were finished with the others. A thrill of excitement rushes through you at the thought, and you slip out of bed, quickly freshening up and making your way down the hall to her room.

The door is slightly ajar, and you hear a faint hum coming from inside. You knock softly, pushing it open to find Yelena leaning against the wall, arms crossed, her expression one of smug satisfaction. She straightens when she sees you, a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth.

“Took you long enough,” she teases, her eyes twinkling as she beckons you closer. “Thought you might’ve forgotten about me after all that… attention from the others.”

You step into the room, closing the door behind you, feeling the familiar warmth spread through you as she studies you, a playful edge in her gaze. “Oh, trust me, I didn’t forget,” you reply, trying to match her confidence. But there’s something in the way she looks at you that makes your pulse quicken.

“Good,” she says, her tone lower now as she takes a step toward you. “Because I’ve got some ideas of my own, and I’ve been waiting long enough.”

As she pulls you into her arms, the events of last night fade into the background, your focus entirely on her. And with the same sense of warmth and safety from the night before, you let yourself be fully present, knowing you’re exactly where you’re meant to be - surrounded by those who treasure you.

"Alredy this needy?" Yelena chuckles as she feels you bucking your hips.

You open your mouth to protest, but the words catch in your throat as she leans in closer, her breath warm against your ear. “What’s the matter?” she teases, her tone dripping with mock innocence. “Cat got your tongue?”

Her fingers find their way to your chin, lifting your gaze to meet hers. The confidence in her eyes is enough to leave you feeling completely flustered. “You know,” she says, drawing out each word, “I could get used to seeing you like this... speechless and staring at me like I’m the only one in the world.”

You swallow, desperately trying to keep your composure, but Yelena only grins wider, clearly enjoying how easily she has you unraveling. “Aww, don’t tell me you’re already getting shy on me,” she taunts, her voice laced with that familiar sarcasm. “You weren’t so shy with the others last night, were you?”

You try to answer, but her hands slide to your waist, pulling you even closer, and any coherent thought melts away. She leans back slightly, studying your face with a smug expression, fully aware of the effect she has on you.

“Oh, look at this mess,” she purrs, feigning sympathy as her thumb brushes lightly across your cheek. “All flustered… just from me standing here. I didn’t even have to do anything.” She chuckles softly, and the sound sends another shiver through you.

Her fingers tap against your waist as she tilts her head, eyes narrowing playfully. “You think you can handle me, детка?”

Finally finding your voice, you manage a breathless, “Yes.” But even you can hear the doubt in your tone, and Yelena’s smirk grows, clearly reveling in the power she holds over you.

She chuckles, shaking her head. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart,” she says, her voice softening slightly, though the teasing glint never leaves her eyes. “Just remember, I don’t make things easy.”

And with that, she leans in, her lips brushing yours, a lingering, torturous pause that leaves you yearning for more.

Before you can process what’s happening, Yelena’s hands are on your shoulders, gently but firmly pushing you back until you’re lying on the bed, looking up at her. A wicked grin spreads across her face as she leans over you, her fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face before trailing down your arm.

She dips her head, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s both soft and intoxicating, leaving you completely breathless. Her lips move with a practiced ease, each kiss sending butterflies tumbling through your stomach, and you find yourself melting under her touch, any semblance of control slipping away.

When she pulls back, you’re left dizzy, caught up in the warmth of the moment, until you feel the light pressure at your wrists. You glance down, realizing that Yelena has tied your hands, her knots tight and secure, the silken fabric binding you to the bedframe.

Your eyes widen, and Yelena bursts into laughter, her expression both proud and amused. She looks down at you with that familiar, confident smirk, clearly relishing the surprise on your face.

“Oh, you really are something special, aren’t you?” she teases, crossing her arms as she watches you struggle with a playfulness in her eyes. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d notice. Took you long enough, though.”

You open your mouth, searching for a response, but her laughter cuts you off, and she leans down, her lips just inches from yours as she whispers, “Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”

She brushes her nose against yours, her eyes dancing with mischief. “What’s the matter? You didn’t think I’d let you get away so easily, did you?”

You tug at the binds, but Yelena’s knots are impeccable, each one a testament to her talent and training as a spy. She watches your efforts with a smirk, her fingers tracing along your cheek as she murmurs, “Oh, you’re too easy to fool. But that’s what makes you so much fun.”

Her voice is soft yet laced with amusement, and you can feel the heat rise.. You realize she’s enjoying every moment of your reaction, her own satisfaction evident in the way her smirk widens.

“Relax,” she purrs, giving your tits a light squeeze. “I’ve got you all to myself, and you’re not going anywhere.”

Time blurs as Yelena’s hands roam over you, her hands everywhere. She keeps you right on the edge, bringing you so close but never quite letting you tip over. Each time you think she’s finally going to let you cross that finish line, she pulls back, she chuckles at your frustrated whimpers.

Hours slip by, and every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire, a mixture of yearning and helplessness. Yelena, always just out of reach, seems to be thoroughly enjoying your reactions, her smirk growing wider with each plea you let slip.

Finally, when she’s had her fill, she leans over and unties your wrists, her touch gentle despite the teasing grin she wears. You’re left feeling breathless, limbs heavy and mind fuzzy, completely undone by her relentless torment.

"W-what?" You breathe heavily.

Yelena sits back, her eyes dancing with amusement as she looks over your thoroughly wrecked state. “Oh, poor you,” she murmurs with mock sympathy, brushing her fingers over your flushed cheek. Her voice is a soft, teasing purr. “Did you really think I was going to let you finish, hm?”

You open your mouth, still too dazed to respond, and she grins, her tone dripping with playful condescension. “I didn’t say I’d make you cum, did I? Oh,” she whispers, her smirk growing, “you’re just too easy to mess with.”

She leans in, pressing one last, taunting kiss to your forehead. “Maybe next time,” she murmurs, giving you a wink as she stands.

Before Yelena can give you moment of aftercare, the door creaks open, and Wanda steps inside, her eyes landing on the two of you. She tilts her head, crossing her arms with a raised eyebrow, her gaze drifting from your dazed, messy form to Yelena’s thoroughly pleased expression.

“Well,” Wanda says, her voice a mix of curiosity and amusement as she takes in the scene, “looks like someone’s had a lot of fun.” She gives Yelena a pointed look, smirking. “Mind telling me exactly what you’ve been up to, Yelena?”

Yelena grins, unabashed, stretching out with a look of satisfaction. “Just a little… patience training,” she says, her voice dripping with smugness. She winks at you, “our girl here is a very good learner.”

Wanda’s eyes soften as she watches you, noticing the dazed, needy look in your eyes, and she steps closer, brushing a hand gently along your cheek. “Poor thing,” she murmurs, her voice filled with sweetness and care. She shoots Yelena a half-playful, half-scolding look. “You’ve completely worn her out, haven’t you?”

Yelena chuckles, unrepentant. “She handled it,” she replies with a smirk, but there’s a hint of affection in her gaze as she watches Wanda fuss over you.

Wanda shakes her head, her expression softening as she carefully helps you sit up, supporting you with a gentle arm around your shoulders. “Come on,” she murmurs, her voice soothing as she guides you up. “Let’s get you to your room. Can you walk on your own, malysh?”

You nod and you cling to her, grateful for the warmth of her touch and the gentle way she leads you through the halls. By the time you’re back in your room, you’re feeling incredibly clingy, leaning into Wanda as if you never want to let go.

She chuckles softly as she helps you settle into bed, her fingers brushing through your hair with gentle, soothing strokes. “You did so well,” she whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I’m here now, alright?"

You nod, a sleepy smile spreading across your face as you nuzzle closer to her, feeling a warmth and comfort that wraps around you like a soft blanket. Wanda’s arms hold you close, her voice a soothing murmur as she reassures you, letting you know that you’re safe and adored, right where you belong.

You stir awake, your eyes fluttering open to the soft rustling of pages. Wanda sits beside you, legs crossed, reading a book, a serene look on her face. She glances down, noticing you’re awake, and her face lights up with a gentle smile.

“Hey sleepyhead,” she murmurs, closing the book and setting it aside.

You stretch and blink, trying to shake off the drowsiness. “What time is it?”

“It’s lunchtime,” Wanda replies, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. “Time for some food, what do you say?”

Food sounds amazing. Yum.

Her words send a little thrill through you, and you nod, letting her help you up as you both make your way toward the dining area. As soon as you step into the room, you notice the others - Carol, Maria, Kate, Yelena, and Natasha, all sitting around the table, their voices dropping to a hush the moment you walk in.

Natasha’s eyes meet yours, and a sly smile spreads across her face as she gets up and pulls out a chair for you. “Oh, detka, there you are,” she purrs, her voice warm and inviting. “Hungry?”

You feel your cheeks flush as everyone’s attention settles on you, and you nod, settling into the seat Natasha pulled out. Wanda takes the spot beside you, and the others exchange knowing glances before Kate starts piling your plate with food.

“Yelena really did numbers on you,” Kate teases, shooting a smirk across the table at Yelena, who only shrugs with an innocent expression. “Guess she wore you out?”

“Oh, not completely,” Yelena chimes in, her tone dripping with mischief. “Our girl’s tougher than she looks.”

Carol laughs softly, shaking her head as she takes a sip of her drink. “Really? Looks like she’s still a bit… unsatisfied.” Her gaze falls on you, her eyes glinting with playful curiosity.

You shift in your seat, feeling a warm, needy ache flare up at the memory of Yelena’s endless teasing earlier, which none of the others seem to have forgotten. You clear your throat, trying to keep it together, but they’re all watching you with varying degrees of amusement, each one fully aware of your lingering frustration.

Natasha leans in, her lips close to your ear as she murmurs, “Don’t worry, malyshka. We’ll take good care of you.” She pulls back with a wink, her voice dripping with a sultry promise that sends a shiver down your spine.

Maria, leaning back in her chair, gives you an amused once-over. “You know, we all like a challenge. And you? You’re definitely worth it.” Her words hang in the air, a mixture of sweetness and mischief.

Wanda reaches for your hand under the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze, her expression soft but knowing. “Poor thing,” she coos, voice just loud enough for the others to hear. “Looks like we might have to put in a little extra effort today, hmm?”

You squirm, feeling all their gazes fixed on you, the warmth spreading from your cheeks down to the pit of your stomach as they continue to pile on the teasing remarks. Kate chuckles, taking a bite of her food. “Hope you’re ready, sweetheart. We’ve got plenty of energy to make sure you don’t feel… neglected.”

You try to focus on your food, but every little touch, every lingering glance, only heightens the needy ache that hasn’t left since this morning. It’s clear they’re having way too much fun watching you squirm, and as lunch goes on, you realize they have no intention of letting you off easy.

Eventually, Kate leans forward, “so, how about you, sweetheart?” she asks, her voice smooth and teasing. “What’s your opinion on all of this?”

You blink, caught off guard, and you stammer as you try to form a response. “I, um… well…” You can feel the heat rising in your face as all of their eyes turn to you, each one wearing an expression that’s both amused and intrigued.

“I mean,” you start, swallowing hard, “I think… I’d like it… if you all—” You falter under their collective gaze, words fumbling as you try to explain yourself, but each attempt only makes them grin wider.

“Would like it… if we all…?” Carol raises an eyebrow, the hint of a smirk tugging at her lips. “Come on, honey, you can say it. We don’t bite. Well, unless you want us to.”

The others chuckle softly, and Wanda squeezes your hand, her voice a gentle murmur. “Just say what you’re thinking, malyshka. We’re all listening.”

You take a shaky breath, gathering what little courage you have left. “I just… I wouldn’t mind if… if you all…” You trail off, feeling your cheeks go warm, but you push through, your voice barely a whisper. “If you’d all just… have some fun with me.”

The silence that follows is electric, charged with an anticipation that has your heart pounding. Natasha grins, her eyes darkening as she exchanges a glance with the others. “Well,” she murmurs, her tone laced with satisfaction. “There’s no need to be shy with us.”

Maria chuckles, leaning back with an approving nod. “Took you long enough to ask, sweetheart.”

Wanda’s fingers trace lightly over the back of your hand, her expression soft yet possessive. “Don’t worry, malysh,” she murmurs, a smile curling her lips. “We’re just getting started.”

Thank you for reading, also HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

[steddieas-shegoes]

When Eddie comes out to him, Steve makes a big mistake. His first reaction was to thank him for trusting him, which is what Robin told him to do in this situation.

But his second reaction was to say “I also like guys.”

Eddie blinked at him, clearly confused and defensive, like maybe Steve was making fun or not taking him seriously.

“Uh. You do?”

“Yeah man! I mean, no one else knows, but yeah.”

Eddie smiled and thanked him for trusting him with it, said they should hang out more, and recommended a queer bar in Indy if he needed a safe place to explore.

And Steve smiled and nodded like he couldn’t agree more.

As soon as Eddie was gone, he rushed to the phone in his kitchen and called Robin.

She called him an idiot, a dingus, a bisexual disaster —whatever that was—, and told him he absolutely wasn’t allowed to go to a queer bar without her.

She did at least agree to keep up the lie until he could find a way out of it without Eddie thinking he lied to hurt him or something.

But he started hanging out a lot more with Eddie and finding that they had more in common than he originally thought.

Eddie took Robin and Steve to the queer club and Steve…felt at home, felt welcomed, felt like he belonged. Robin kept giving him these looks all night, and Eddie kept dragging him to meet people who he cared about, and one of the guys on the dance floor kept pulling him out there to dance with him.

He felt free and alive and-

Queer.

It hit him as the guy, Paul maybe, was pulling him closer by his waist as his hips rocked to the beat of a song he didn’t recognize but felt like something he wanted on a mixtape. It hit him that he liked this because he liked dancing with Paul like this. He liked this because he saw himself visiting more, even without Eddie and Robin. He liked this because he could picture making out with Eddie in the bathroom.

He froze.

“You okay, sweet thing?” Paul asked him.

“I think I’m in love with my friend.”

Paul’s eyes widened momentarily before patting Steve’s hip. “Is he gay, honey?”

“Huh?” Steve was already trying to find Eddie in the crowd. “Oh, yeah. He’s here tonight.”

“Shouldn’t you be dancin’ with him then?”

Steve finally looked back at Paul, who had his hands on his own hips now, teasing smile on his face.

“Yeah. I should,” Steve thanked him, apologized for any misleading, which was immediately brushed off. Paul was here to dance, he didn’t much care for who he was dancing with.

“Send that beauty over here. She looks like she needs some lessons,” Paul pointed to Robin, who was still looking a little nervous despite the friendly bartender handing her sodas every time he passed by her.

“She’s gay, man.”

“So am I! Doesn’t mean we can’t dance!”

Steve laughed. “You’re right.”

He walked over to Robin quickly, avoided getting pulled back into the crowd.

“I’m in love with Eddie.”

Robin rolled her eyes. “I know, dingus. You literally risked your entire reputation to come to a queer bar to try to impress him.”

Steve balked. “That’s not what this was!”

“Uh huh. Well he’s sulking in the bathroom if you wanna go tell him.”

“Sulking? Why?”

“He saw you dancing with that guy. Think he assumed you were interested in him.”

“Not a chance. I prefer long hair and ripped jeans,” Steve winked. He turned to walk towards the hall with the bathrooms when Robin stopped him.

“Don’t do this if you’re not 100% sure,” she said seriously. “Eddie really likes you and it would destroy him if you were lying to make him feel better.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” Steve started, but stopped when Robin gave him a look.

“You’ve literally been pretending to be queer for the last two months because he came out to you and you accidentally came out to him. You’re lucky it wasn’t a complete lie.”

“Yeah but I wouldn’t fuck with his feelings like that.” Steve knew what it was like to be led on. He wouldn’t do that to Eddie. “I’ll be careful with him.”

“And be careful with you.”

He saluted her as he walked away.

When he found Eddie sitting on the counter at the sink in the bathroom, he was swinging his legs back and forth and humming something distinctly less pop than what was playing on the dance floor. No one else was in here, but that didn’t mean no one would walk in.

He walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his knee.

Eddie immediately stopped kicking his feet and looked up.

“What’s with the face?” Steve asked, reaching up to touch the line between his brows that always appeared when he was pouting.

Eddie shrugged. “Just not feeling it tonight I guess.”

“The music isn’t really your thing. Kinda surprised you like this place,” Steve said as his hand drifted down to his wrist. “Seems closer to a small club than a bar.”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself.”

Eddie’s tone was sharp, laced with jealousy. Even if Steve hadn’t had his realization five minutes earlier, he would’ve seen what that was from a mile away.

“I was until I realized I’d rather be out there with you.”

Eddie snorted. “I don’t really dance.”

“But you’d dance with me if I asked, right?” Steve’s fingers circled his wrist and he tugged Eddie off the counter. “Even if I asked you to do it right here with no music?”

“Steve, what are you doing?”

“Dancing. Or trying to.” Steve rested his hands on Eddie’s hips and started swaying them in sync with his. “It is hard without music.”

“Why don’t you go back out there?” Eddie’s hands went around Steve’s neck.

“Because you’re not out there. I don’t wanna be where you aren’t.”

“Steve-“

“You know I didn’t actually know I liked guys until tonight?” Steve huffed out a laugh. “Well, I really like this one guy. Not sure about others yet.”

Eddie was silent, but didn’t push Steve away.

“He was hiding in this bathroom though. I didn’t really think he’d join me out there, so I brought the dancing to him,” Steve winked.

“You like me? You? Like me?”

Steve nodded.

“And you just realized this?”

“Kinda.”

“In a queer bar?”

“Mhm.”

“That’s pretty gay, dude.”

Steve snorted and smacked Eddie’s chest. “That’s the point.”

Eddie moved in impossibly closer, no room for Jesus between their chests anymore. “So you lied when you came out to me?”

“I panicked! But it doesn’t actually count as a lie if I’ve seen the light.”

“Was it a rainbow light? Or the reflection of the disco ball in the glitter shorts Perry was wearing?” Eddie joked.

“Perry!” Steve smacked his own forehead. “He’s nice. Made me come tell you how I feel.”

“Oh. He did?” Eddie seemed shy for maybe the first time ever.

“Yeah. Said I should come dance with you if I’m in love with you.”

Steve hadn’t felt like this in a while, and hadn’t left his heart on his sleeve like this in even longer. As Eddie’s face went from shy to shocked to flustered, Steve thought about how long he’d been dancing around these feelings.

But no more dancing around them. Now it was time to dance with them.

“Can’t believe you just said you’re in love with me in the bathroom of a queer bar. Don’t even think they clean this place,” Eddie laughed, letting his forehead fall against Steve’s.

“I’ll tell you again outside.” Steve kissed his cheek. “And in the van.” His nose. “Your house, my house.” The corner of his mouth. “Everywhere.”

Eddie licked his lip, skipping over a soft kiss for a hungry one. It was hot, desperate, impatient. Everything Steve hadn’t known he needed.

Then again, he hadn’t even actually known he liked guys until tonight. Maybe he was just late to learn things about himself.

[edenfenixblogs]

I was having a rough night so I went to my favorite funny website IsMercuryInRetrograde.com

I’m not a huge believer in astrology, but the website only has two pages:

If it’s in retrograde it says yes, which feels weirdly validating.

If it’s not in retrograde it just says “No, something else must be bumming you out,” which always gives me a little chuckle.

Fun silly website. Yay.

Except this time

YES. SOMETHING ELSE IS BUMMING ME OUT.

The fact that unless I lock myself in a room with only pre-written or pre-recorded material that I’ve already read or watched and know is safe I CANNOT GO TWELVE FUCKING HOURS WITHOUT HEARING ABOUT THIS FUCKING WAR.

It’s killing me. There are no breaks. I open any website or social media app and it’s an immediate bombardment of info about the war. I go watch a YouTube video and then there’s a fundraiser at the end.

I flip through channels and see news about an antisemitic attack or a bombing in Gaza or Rafah.

I leave notifications on and get a text from a friend who sees a “rape is resistance” sticker on her walk home from school.

I go to look for pride merch and see watermelon merch mixed in as if war is some kind of gay accessory. I look through a fandom tag and see cartoon characters in a kids cartoon drawn with Palestinian flags.

It’s fucking endless. It’s insane. I just wanted a few days without having to think about all of it so I could recharge and I haven’t even been able to go a continuous 12 hour stretch without something or someone shoving the whole thing in my face.

It’s not healthy to live like this. I already have PTSD. And I’m trying with all my might not to retreat fully within myself but this is fucking killing me.

And I am someone who is pro peace and pro ceasefire and pro Palestinian welfare and anti-Likud but also anti-antisemitism. I do nothing but promote interfaith and intercultural organizations devoted to fostering peace. I want this war over.

And yet I’m fucking stuck in this perpetual hellhole of awful news and constant imagery about war and death and antisemitism and Palestinian suffering. And it’s too much. Why can’t I even go 12 hours. It’s killing me.

The fucking mercury in retrograde website‽ YES. SOMETHING ELSE IS BUMMING ME OUT AND ITS YOU.