#like before you get to the sex
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
I have what you're looking for. High quality. Befitting a man of my tastes. I have a room over on Divisadero, not too far a walk.
#iwtv#interview with the vampire#iwtv amc#daniel molloy#louis de pointe du lac#danlou#iwtvedit#tvedit#dailyflicks#*#dont know if i can articulate my thoughts well#but something about how daniel at first is so closed off from louis when he sits down near him#doesnt really want to talk at first but starts opening up pretty quickly#then louis is buying him a drink and it's easier to talk. mostly what he wants to talk about is his journalism work#because its so important to him. but when louis starts getting too personal (i know what you're here for danny) he starts backing off again#maybe some combo of shame for how quickly he felt attracted to louis and the flirting and the diminutive louis uses#the bartender uses it when asking if hes got money tonight. hes used to exchanging sex for things he needs but cant afford#above all it's like a sharp reminder of what louis wants & what daniel wants too even before the offer of drugs#and he's trying to hold onto the denial and excuses. it was a good place to score he did what he had to#sex with men has to be in exchange for something he can't just want it on its own#the lie he tells himself about himself#also these tags are getting long but i think you can see the moment louis decides he might not just fuck and kill this guy right away lmao
511 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shout out to all artists who had to work without any strong direction or instruction.
I wish you a merry “the client likes it anyways”
#non mdzs#The real mood of this comic is:#AKA: you are in charge of designing a character but have only been given personality as a reference.#This was technically for a game dev meeting and I am part of a team rather than a contractor hired on.#But hey the anxiety going into this was still crazy high. I was playing a risky gambit.#Part two of this comic is me putting all those clowns on a powerpoint and presenting them in front of a few people.#Pointing at them and saying “Okay which clown do you like best? How can we sex up this clown more?”#I think I may be giving the impression that I’m more into clowns than I actually am. It just fit with the character okay!#I had to consult the REAL down-for-clowners for tips. Photos exchanged in the dark alleys of a discord server.#A hooded figure shakes their head at the first photo. Slowly nods as I add puffy sleeves. Nods furiously as I drop the neckline.#This clown still needs to marinate a bit more before I’m ready to present them to the wider world.#So stay tuned! They have become a delight to draw and develop!#Game dev diary#As this is part of that new arc in my life.#Can you tell I've been practicing with digital art a lot more? Boy have I ever! I'm getting stronger! And faster!
610 notes
·
View notes
Text
having seen at least the rough outlines of all the romances now I have to say that I think emmrich's is probably objectively the best in terms of coherence and completeness of story arc (with the understanding that ultimately the 'best' romance is whichever one makes YOUR heart sing anyway so objectivity is a silly thing to claim that way, it just felt like it's the arc with the most well-paced focused content and the least dangling threads)... but lucanis' is my favourite haha. just. the whole kneeling before your beloved full of reverence but without any of the distance that usually implies??? his complete undramatic certainty and calm in every scene with rook after this, having spent the whole game caught between fear and longing???? mr. lives in a pantry but it says nothing about my psyche don't worry about it it's purely for tactical reasons that I keep myself contained in a small dark room not entirely unlike a cell, love among the parsnips -- finally coming to rook in their room and it's so comfortable and comforting???? after all the times rook supports and comforts him through the game he's finally able to return the same to them when they need it while being so calm and steady and it's so fucking sweet and feels so effortless and with no price attached?????? he basically assigns himself the role of your bodyguard and he WILL stab a god over it??????????????? the turn to protector (which was in his heart all along longing to get out and find a place) of it all????? he sounds like he's found himself unexpectedly stumbling into such a soul-lightening state of revelatory existential relief, full on 'you only have to let the soft animal of your body love what it loves' mary oliver style, and he goes and he shares that with rook and protectively envelops them in it when they're hurting??????????????????????????? hello for the maker's sake hello can anyone hear me?????
#listen I was forged in the fires of garrusmancing. I went through two whole games just to get a gentle headbutt and some tender words#before me3 comes along and rewards you for your tenacity more fully#me? the reyes romancer???? I have the strength and headcanon game to bear the relative lack of content before the end#when the endgame is this good I am willing to hold out for it haha the way he looks at rook towards the end......#I also really liked taash' (it's really sweet) but I don't think I have any rooks ready to go right now who would go for that vibe#emmrich for sure is going to be my either crow or shadow dragon romance it really is very good! and extremely goth not unrelatedly#undeniably that old man has the most game out of anyone in this story. the move with the flower??? I'm sorry????#I actually like that lucanis' romance blooms out of the safety of an established friendship more than anything (again. avowed garrusmancer)#but emmrich... he's got some next level romantic stuff going on and is being both so wholesome and such a freak about it lmao#dragon age#dragon age: the veilguard#dragon age: the veilguard spoilers#dragon age spoilers#lucanis dellamorte#rook x lucanis#rookanis#all jokes aside I totally respect and understand that people are a bit disappointed and frustrated -- they're not wrong to feel that!#there really are some gaps in content there for the midgame#however I was personally custom built by experience to get the most out of this scenario as possible and by god I will#just as I feel that ryder and reyes go off and have some soul-shrivingly good sex after the first kiss#(it makes that arc make a lot more sense to me haha)#I think rook and lucanis Get Up To It after the second coffee date. weird of them to not show us that but okay I'll fill it in myself then
306 notes
·
View notes
Text
fool ; jude bellingham
summary ♡ betting on the phenomenon of unrequited feelings, you and jude have never dared to make the first move with the other until a reunion forces new questions to be answered.
pairing ♡ jude bellingham x fem!reader
content ♡ 18+, smut, friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, cursing, kissing, both jude & reader are pining idiots, fingering, p in v sex, marking, missionary, unprotected sex (jude pulls out but still pls practise safe sex!!)
a/n ♡ she's baaaack :D but first☝🏽alexa play fool by nct 127 !!!! the lyric "you’re a goddess but i’m a fool, what should i do?" was written for this fic in particular i just know it was :] anyway hehe this fic is based off this request so tysmm to anon for sending such an exciting prompt !! i hope yous enjoy 🫶🏽💗 WAIT P.S this isn’t proofread bc i lowkey am not rocking with it so i didn’t wanna put myself thru having to read it again & again … im sorry for any mistakes :’)
you had just gotten off work to a stream of relentless texts from your best friends’ groupchat — phone pinging off the rails whilst you were on shift, muffled buzzes from your bag making you wonder what on earth was worth blowing up in that whatsapp group on a random friday afternoon.
on the train back home, you tap open the green app, anticipating yourself easily spending the entire journey catching up on the three hundred-plus texts from your closest mates. you decide to start right from the beginning of the influx, thumb scrolling nonstop and eyes blurring from the rapid movement until they focus back on the screen where you stop, finally having reached the destination of the first text that set it all off.
it was from none other than jude bellingham, and you were nearly embarrassed by the way your face instantly lit up upon reading his message. the groupchat’s golden boy had popped up after weeks of minimal contact, asking if he could take everyone for a night out tomorrow to make up for it, stating that he finally has some small gaps of free time between hectic pre-season schedules to allow him to do so.
it honestly warmed your heart that the first thing he wants away from football is to see you all. you’d been a band of good friends since the first year of secondary school, contact not necessarily strained as you all had a lot of love for each other but rather unspokenly reduced after leaving school two years ago and falling into busy university or career ventures.
instead of scrolling through to read and react to the plethora of follow-up texts after his, you ignore them and jump straight to typing your reply to his invitation, casting aside that nagging voice asking you: doesn’t that seem too desperate?
no, right? i’m just accepting his invitation, getting straight to the point, the convo ended half an hour ago anyway. you’re arguing with yourself now, feeling the need to give unnecessary excuses to nonexistent accusations. if you were to be honest with yourself, you were always self-conscious of the way you behaved around jude, even now debating on whether to add your signature heart emoji or if it’d come across as you trying too hard given your feelings for him; albeit them being feelings that no one knows about, not even him. you made sure for it to be that way.
with a mental note to get over yourself, you send an affirmative ‘i’m up for it!’, signature heart included, and quickly shut off your phone. heart beating so rapidly, you scolded yourself for getting so worked up over a mere reply and for definitely not getting over yourself. god knows how you’re going to handle seeing him in person.
a sudden double buzz from your device does nothing to calm you down, instead dampening your hands with sweat when you grab it and see a pair of messages from him.
jude 🌟: heyy i’m so glad you can make it tomorrow :)
jude 🌟: can’t wait to see you!! ❤❤
he had messaged you separately for some reason and he had included two hearts… the overthinking starts for you again, without even beginning to think about what to reply this time, and you question why he couldn’t have just replied to you in the groupchat or why he couldn’t have just left the end of the messages with a ‘x’ like he usually does or why he would even say what he said in the last message. mind frantic and unable to clear itself, you thank yourself for having your read receipts turned off so you can have your mini meltdown without worrying about jude knowing you’d seen his messages multiple minutes ago. god, you were down so bad.
you force yourself to open the messages app and send the most casual reply you can type.
you: can’t wait to see you too! ❤
you try to keep it short, sweet and nonchalant even if your fingers are itching to type more – more about how much you had missed him, more about what he was planning to wear tomorrow night so that maybe you could match your own outfit with him, more about your true, unfiltered feelings for him. it’s pathetic really; you hadn’t seen him in two years and the first thing you wanted to do was throw yourself at him, spilling all the secrets you’d been holding close for so many years. you leave it at that, put your phone on do not disturb mode and head on home, waiting for the long hours of friday evening to pass and saturday night to arrive.
***
and so saturday night rolls around and you just about finish touching up your makeup and smoothing out your dark blue dress before the doorbell rings, and you’re whisked away to the club by a couple of your girlfriends.
as soon as you step your high heels into the building, you’re met with the sight of flowing booze and the noise of noughties r&b beats bouncing around the brightly lit walls. dragged by the hands of your friends, you find yourself standing next to a booth at the back of the club, the rest of the group now welcoming you latecomers with a loud cheer.
“finally, girls. you took your time!” one of your male friends remarks, ushering you all to sit down.
“oh god, what have we missed?” you beam, trying to scan the group amongst the strobing lights to catch a glimpse of the person you were really there for.
“nah, you’re just in time because… first round’s on mister madrid!”
the callout breaks your friend group into a raucous holler as your gaze fixes onto the six foot-one footballer who stands up with an amused grin and a sigh of feigned defeat. your heart quickens and your smile turns into a state of near disbelief over how good jude looks right now – graphic white t-shirt hugging his biceps in all the right places and hanging over a pair of smart-casual black trousers.
“yeah, yeah, anything for my groupies,” he winks at no one in particular but your brain almost convinces you that he was looking at you while doing it. you send a shy smile his way just in case but what he says next has your mouth running dry. “help us out, will ya, y/n?”
you hesitate for a second too long for your liking, stumbling over your words while your friends peer at you. “uh… uh-huh, yeah, of course.” you answer as quick as you can, standing up on your feet slowly as to not trip over your now-shaking legs and send yourself flying into jude, and to avoid embarrassing yourself more than you think you already have.
he responds with a grateful smile and you follow him to the bar where he places an order for a round of drinks and some shots to be delivered to the group by the two of you. there’s an odd unfamiliarity to the silence between you both and you realise that you aren’t normally this quiet around jude, and neither is he around you; you would always joke that he’d be eligible to talk for england if he wasn’t already playing football for them. he’d retort with a comment about how his ears could almost fall off with the amount of chatting you do, and you’d dryly reply with a ‘well, they’re too big for your head anyway. look at the size of them!’ the pair of you were always as thick as thieves in the eyes of everyone else. which is why you didn’t expect it to be like this, especially after two years of not seeing each other – there was so much you wanted to catch up on from his world and so much you wanted to share from yours. you decidedly gain some courage and take the initiative to spark some conversation, get something going at least.
“soo, how have you been, then?” you’re both facing the bar, your head barely tilting in jude’s direction to indicate that yes, it is him that you’re talking to and not some random like he assumes you are with the way you’re positioned away from him, eyes just about turning to steal a glance of his figure but not to hold eye contact. “how’s la vida española?”
jude finds amusement in your sudden flaunt of the spanish language, a smile breaking out on his face, unseen to you since he’s still facing the same direction that you are, preoccupying his eyes with the myriad of bottles on the shelves while his mind searches for an apt reply.
“yeah, it’s been great, i think i wanna stay there forever,” jude laughs, his fingers tapping on the black surface of the bar. you can’t help the selfish feeling of your heart dropping at his confession. “i miss you, though, y’know… a lot.”
this one confession forces your whole body to turn itself towards him, eyes now chasing after his to seek some form of sincerity, to see if he was just messing about or if he really meant what he just said. he shifts his head to face you now, a bashful look painted onto his features. the expectant silence says it all really; of course i mean it.
you gulp and decide to break the quietness with a sarcastic, jesting “ugh…”, jude’s face dropping at what he thinks is genuine disgust from you. you realise your attempt to denounce the awkwardness has backfired.
“oh my god, you dickhead, i’m joking,” how is it that mere moments ago you were shaking at the sheer real-life presence of him but now you’d transformed into having this confident playfulness? and all of it without a drop of alcohol in your system as well – you’re quietly proud of yourself. “i missed you too, jude… a lot.” you coyly repeat his words.
upon your turn of the confession, the bartender sets down your drink orders and the two of you wordlessly carry the trays over to where your friends are situated, the silence way more comfortable now that you’re both basking in assurance, unbeknown to the other that your hearts were racing at a hundred miles per hour.
***
not even two hours and an innumerable amount of shots later, you’re all a drunken mess; definitely not a surprise to a single one of you. what is a surprise is the way you’re strewn across jude, right leg wrapped around his left, head on his chest, swirling and sipping from what’s clearly an empty glass to any sober, sane person. you grumble and mutter a complaint about the lack of liquor in the booth, taking it upon yourself to head to the bar and order another round for everyone.
“i’ll come with you,” jude announces over the pounding of the music, standing up so quickly that his next five steps are staggered and he has to cling onto your arm to steady himself. “i’m fine, i’m okay.” he assures nobody that asked.
the two of you stumble your way into the path of the bar, determined to drink until the sun comes up and forget every strand of stress until the hangovers come knocking. jude’s soft grip on your arm has you being led in the opposite direction all of a sudden, though.
“uhm, where are we going?” you question, head still turned to where the bar is located, about to ask him if he was so hammered he couldn’t walk in a simple straight line to get to where you’d planned to go. “jude?”
he’s silent, save for humming his way to his desired destination, and you question if he even knows where he’s leading you. before you make the choice of going along with him or leaving his clearly confused self to go cop your next cocktail, you find yourself in the disabled toilets, pushed up against the sink with the door not even shut properly, gasping at how rough jude is handling your body compared to his soft touches from before, and how close his face is to yours, warm breath fanning the skin of your lips. you weren’t strictly against it all but how the hell have you ended up like this? The alcohol and the questions come at you fast, dizzying your brain but you can’t help but feel so keenly anticipative.
“i’m sorry, i just…” he pulls away from you, eyes fluttering closed so he can re-evaluate his actions, exhaling through his nose as if he was letting go of all doubts before continuing. “am i okay to do this?” he places his hands on your waist, pushing himself back into your space, his full lips more or less about to take yours. you have to refrain from letting the effects of alcohol take over your tongue and uttering back with a breathy ‘you can do whatever you want to me’.
instead, you answer with an earnest, eager nod, inviting his lips to finally do that one thing you had been dreaming of for so long, to kiss yours so silly that they’re left with the imprint of him. and jude does just that.
his mouth takes in yours so determinedly, shyness and hesitation now long-dissolved feelings for you both as your hands find home around the back of his neck, pushing his head further onto you, feeling the need to taste him more and more until you’re both consumed by each other.
it’s a messy makeout, noses bumping and teeth clashing, but it’s oh so hot, the way he gasps into your mouth from breathlessness and pleasure, running and gripping his large hands over the material adorning your waist and hips as the need to rip it off you nearly overtakes him. to you, he’s so utterly intoxicating that a gallon of alcohol would pale in comparison to how dizzy his skin on yours makes you feel.
you release a moan at the meagre thought of jude all over your body, and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue over yours, filthy noises of wetness and carnality from the both of you reaching high pitch as jude somehow simultaneously pushes you against the sink and pulls you against his chest, his manhandling of you getting you even more hot and bothered before you’re both interrupted by the hub of people passing by and huddling right outside the bathroom, their self-occupied shouts and cheers dragging you out of the bubble that the two of you had wrapped yourselves in, almost sobering you up on the spot.
you push jude out of your way, gentle but abrupt, and give him a look of apologetic regret. “i-i’m sorry,” you say, jitterily walking past him and exiting the room without a second glance or word, heading straight to the booth where your friends are hollering and hurraying, occupied with shot-drinking contests.
your girlfriends offer to go home with you when you lie and tell them you’re not feeling very well, but you decline them, instead telling them to have fun on your behalf and letting them know that you’ll try to text them once you get home safely. you can tell they’re confused by your shaken state and the absence of jude but you grab your bag and make your exit before the interrogation can even begin to brew.
you manage to grab a taxi back home, surprised by how competent you are despite the alcohol in your bloodstream and confusion in your brain. on the way there, you can’t stop the bouncing of your knee nor the racing of your psyche, asking yourself how and why whatever went down with jude went down like that. you curse at yourself for being so impulsive in starting and finishing the whole ordeal with him in the way that you did – you don’t know if it’s the empty, depressive drunk thoughts or just clarity from the whole jude thing that makes you feel like there’s no coming back from this at all. you feel like crawling into your bed and never coming out from it ever again.
the taxi driver has to call for your attention multiple times until you reach earth again and pay him the journey’s fee. you go skulking all the way up to your front door, only letting out a breath that you feel like you’ve been holding since the beginning of the night once the door shuts behind you.
the rest of the night is quiet and orderly for you, telling yourself to not invite any more chaos into your brain and to simply drink some water and to go to sleep. waking up tomorrow morning is going to be painful in more ways than one.
***
you spend the rest of the weekend nursing a ferocious hangover and a frazzled heart, only contacting your friends to tell them that you got home fine and to joke that you probably need a century or two for this hangover to be gone. you thank the high heavens that they don't bring up the topic of you and jude
you try not to think too much about jude, you really do, but sunday night has a couple of taps landing you on the instagram app and you learn that he’s already back in spain, pictures of him in training sliding across your phone screen on his story along with selfies with his teammates. usually, you tap that small red heart at the bottom and hope that he sees it amongst his millions and millions of notifications, a tiny ritual of yours that now has you feeling so pathetic that you don’t dare to do it anymore.
running a hand over your weary face, you set your phone down and opt to nap the night away, finding comfort in the non-intrusion from your friends and the no contact from jude, hoping to keep yourself busy and distracted with whatever the work week brings.
a ring from the doorbell rips through your flat just as you’re organising your pillows, forcing you to stop what you’re doing and ponder who could be at the door on a sunday while the clock ticks some minutes past one o’clock. you don’t recollect ordering any food nor are you expecting a delivery, especially not this late.
trudging your way to the front door, you open it to find jude bellingham standing there and you feel an instant pang of regret, wishing you had peeked through the window to see who it could be, wishing you had pretended to not be in, wishing the ground would open up right now and swallow you whole – anything to escape the confrontation that you’re now having to face. your face heats up with embarrassment and nerves but you manage to rupture the silence before your mouth can turn dry.
“j-jude, hi,” you try and keep your greeting as polite and cordial as you can, even when all you really want to do is to chase him off your doorstep. “what are you doing here?”
your query has jude visibly gulping, hands fiddling with each other as he attempts to hold eye contact with you, his vision a bit blurry from exhaustion. “y/n… sorry, can i come in?”
you oblige, holding the door open wide before you guide him to the living room and invite him to sit down on the plushness of your sofa, settling yourself on the opposite end of it. you silently prompt him to say what he came here to say with a nod of your head.
“uhm, i’m sorry for turning up unannounced, and so late…” ever the courteous. “i had to sneak away from the lads and catch the last flight to here so it was all a bit down to the wire.” he lets out a small, uneasy laugh.
you cut off his rambling with a curt “what do you want, jude?” you don’t mean for it to sound so rude but you still hold the attitude of wanting to get this over and done with, already feeling annoyance at yourself for even letting him into your home.
“right, yeah, i actually wanted to talk about what happened on saturday,” he goes back to fiddling with this thumbs, eyebrows furrowed but he avoids looking at you this time. not that you can blame him because your own vision shifts to anywhere but his direction. “i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable a-and please tell me if this is inappropriate, but i haven’t stopped thinking about last night, i haven't stopped thinking about you, i-i’m sorry, i know this is all so silly and you probably don’t even feel the same bu-”
you stop him right there, this time with good reason as you can’t bear holding back your real emotions, not when he’s practically given you the green light to spill the contents of your heart.
“no, jude, i didn’t feel uncomfortable at all,” you assure him, gaze now on the footballer in front of you and you almost can’t believe the words leaving your mouth right now. “i wanted it to happen, i’m glad it happened, you know, i think i’ve had dreams about it happening,” you try and offset any tension with a timid chuckle before turning quite pensive. “i really like you, jude, i have for a long time… god, sorry, this is so embarrassing.” you return to making light of the situation you’ve put yourself in, the timidness sinking back in as quick as the relief lifts you up.
jude moves closer to your now-cowering body, knees touching as your heartbeat surges with worry and self-consciousness all wrapped up into a tight, miserable ball. he puts his sweat-dampened hands into yours and squeezes in silent assurance before raising them up to his lips and laying a chaste kiss on the heated skin.
he can’t help but break out into a sweet smile, eyes threatening to crinkle at the edges. your face is still sketched with tension and now confusion has joined the mix.
“i can’t tell you how long i’ve waited to hear that from you, how much i needed to hear it,” your eyes meet his, widening in surprise a little. “i’m a fool for not telling you sooner… i like you, y/n, i really like you.” he repeats your own words back at you, leaning in with a smattering of amusement dancing in his vision.
“can i kiss you?” the question leaves your lips faster than you can even process it in your brain.
jude wastes no time in replying with a firm pressing of his mouth on yours, deepening it within seconds, the need to cement his feelings for you being told through the way he cradles your head in his hand, leaning you back onto the arm of the sofa to further intensify the kiss. your lips move along with his, the soft weight of his body pressed against yours making you whine into his mouth in ecstasy.
he lifts off of you with a puckering of his swollen lips, the both of you taking the chance to draw in some air and attempt to regulate your breathing pattern.
“please take me to the bedroom,” you beg, breathless from the sheer sight of his dark eyes and pretty pout. there’s no fight nor denial from jude as he picks you up and prompts you to wrap your legs around his waist, quickening his pace once you point in the direction of your room.
he lays you down on the bed so gently, lips latching onto yours once again before they travel down your jaw and over the warm skin of your neck. the light touch of his fluttering eyelashes married with the pressure of his soft lips has your head spinning, hands tentatively laid on top of your sheets since you don’t trust yourself to not grab his head and bring it back to your lips. his fingers tinker with the waistband of your pyjama trousers, stretching it off your skin before he asks permission to peel them down your legs.
once they’re cast away in some corner of your bedroom, jude divides your legs by the underside of your knees, tucking himself into the now available space between them, turning onto his side and resting on his left forearm. he leaves a small kiss over your covered cunt and you try your best to not just clamp his head in between your thighs and smother him with your growing wetness here and now.
“need to get you ready, baby,” the sudden mention of the petname has you throbbing, squirming even more when he traces a line from your clit down to where there’s a small damp spot forming on the dark material of your underwear.
“jude, please,” you whine out, lifting your hips in a desperate bid to get the boy to strip your lower half completely.
he shushes you in his own charming way, making sure to comply with your demand by getting up onto his knees and discarding your soaked panties in a matter of seconds, the cold air generated by his large hands whipping them off you hits your exposed pussy, making you hiss through gritted teeth.
jude returns to the gap between your spread legs, sitting back but still on his knees, his higher position causing you to shift onto resting your body weight on the palms of your hands in order to peer at his actions – which start with him re-tracing that same teasing line from your aching clit to your hole with his thumb, the feeling now so intense on your unclothed skin. he hums in what sounds to be satisfaction when you throw your head back in pleasure, taking it in his favour to slip his index finger into the tightness of your pussy.
you release a guttural groan at the feeling of finally having some part of him inside you; you of course don’t want this to be the only part but you’re still so very grateful, so fucking grateful he’s now rubbing at your clit in delicious rounds, thumb tracing circle after circle while his fingers form a pair, pistoning in and out of you so easily due to the way your cunt douses itself with every move of jude’s.
“fuck, baby,” jude moans at the sight of his soaked digits every time they barely pull out of that pretty pussy, his thumb torturing your sensitive bud increasingly so, the cries and whimpers spilling from your lips an incentive for him. “feel so good and tight around my fingers, can’t imagine how you’ll feel around my dick.”
his words have you absolutely reeling, writhing against his hand to try and chase that moment of release.
“please, jude, i’m so close,” you’re warning and demanding at the same time, almost begging him to not stop or even think about moving his fingers out of you. “god, please, i need it,”
jude suddenly retracts both of his hands, leaving you bare and empty. “no way, baby, need to have you cumming on my cock or not cumming at all,” he comments with a shake of his head, denying you the opportunity of leaking your cum over his hand. upon seeing your bewildered face, he makes up for it by putting on a show of licking your juices clean off his fingers, the digits popped inside his mouth and dragged right back out with a low moan, him praising the way you taste.
“move up the bed for me, angel,” he orders, watching you while he stands up and unclothes himself as quick as he can. you scoot backwards, legs still spread open like they’ve been locked in that position, before pulling your oversized t-shirt off of you, chest void of a restricting bra . “good girl,” he praises, crawling up to hover his body over your laying one, cock in hand as your legs come to wrap around him. “are you still okay with this? we can stop at any point, okay?”
the sincerity of his voice has you melting. some would remark that the bar is in hell for you but the truth is that you hadn’t been with anyone like this for more months than you could count on your hands. you've been touch-starved and lacking words of affirmation for so long, and you needed something to be only about you for once.
“i’m more than okay with this,” you smile up at him, nodding to make your approval fully known. “and yes, i know i can stop you if i need to.”
jude reciprocates the same smile before leaning in and smothering your lips with his, pushing his cock into your tight wetness, so tight that your pussy almost pushes him back out, not used to being penetrated by something so thick.
“oh my god!” the feeling of tightness/fullness has you both gasping out the same thing at the same time, erupting into quiet giggles when the two of you realise your matching reactions.
jude’s mouth finds its way back home in the embrace of your lips and you swear this is heaven, the way his cock slides in and out of your sopping cunt, set at such a perfect pace, the slight friction causing you to grow even wetter – the filth of it all contrasts so well with the sweetness of his muffled moans and tender kisses on your neck, moving down onto your collarbones and tits.
a particularly harsh thrust of his cock has your back arching, chest pushed up to his heated face, and he takes this golden opportunity to wrap his lips around your erect nipple, spending a good while sucking and tugging on the skin around it. you’re amazed at how his cock doesn’t relent inside you, the speed still so quick and consistent even when he’s so occupied in painting splotches on your tits with his mouth.
“there,” he pants out, pulling his head back and marvelling at his own creation. “now, there’s no doubt that you’re really mine.” the smile he gives you is a killer.
you whine at his declaration of you belonging to him, scratching at his shoulders and calling out his name to indicate that it’s all too much for you, that you’re so, so close to cumming on his cock and really giving him what he wants rather than pleasing yourself. you figure that’s you gone now; you’re more willing to put the boy above your own needs because you’re down that fucking bad for him.
“fuck, jude, i’m gonna cum!” you sob, your moans becoming more frequent and higher pitched, legs starting to shake from the intoxicating mix of exhaustion and delight. you’re frantically chanting “please, please, please” into his mouth which parts to swallow your whimpering, wet lips kissing your trembling ones.
“go on, baby, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he groans out, eyes squeezing shut when the feeling of your pussy clamping down tightly on his thickness proves too much to handle, face finding refuge in the crook of your neck. he knows you don’t need his permission, he would’ve let you orgasm as many times as you wanted to, would’ve let you use him like your own personal sex toy, but the words were only there to keep you going when his hips felt like faltering – he needed you cumming on his cock like he promised before, and he wasn’t about to fuck it up himself.
a final scream rips from your throat as you cum hard around jude, pussy clenching and pulsating around his cock so sporadically you thought you were having two orgasms at once. jude can’t handle it anymore, pulling out with a myriad of moans as he pumps his shaft with a hand, decorating the expanse of your lower abdomen with warm, white liquid. you’re still squirming, slowly trying to wheeze out the remaining whimpers from your lungs which you’re finding hard to do with the way jude pants and moans above you, the boy so spent he can’t help but breathe like he hasn’t had access to air for the past hour.
he flops down by your side, arms and legs sprawled like a starfish, chest rising and falling as he attempts to recuperate from the mindblowing sex you two just had. the image is so unserious that you can’t stifle your giggles but you decide to take another step of courage to lay on your side resting your head on his shoulder, fingers stroking his abs and playing with the curly hairs of his happy trail.
the room is quiet now with the scent of sex wafting through your nostrils on occasion but it’s the most comfortable silence you’ve experienced with jude, the feeling of his hot skin on yours so soothing to you.
after a period of panting, jude clears his throat and your ears prick up at the presence of sound. he turns his head towards you and you lift yourself up and off him out of instinct – you want full attention on him.
“i don’t want this to be a one-time kinda thing, y’know,” he proclaims, biting his lip from saying too much in one go.
“what, is this your way of saying you want round two already?” you joke, nose crinkling at the way he rolls his eyes playfully.
“shut up,” he delivers a poke to your side. “i mean, well, i don’t want either one of us to see this as a spur-of-the-moment thing, i just…” you look at him expectantly, silently telling him to continue. “i want you to be my girlfriend, y/n.”
you’re nearly knocked back by his words, wondering if they’re real or if you’re simply just hearing things. you thought dialogue like that, coming from him, was only reserved for your imagination, kept secret and only spoken to you in late-night mental scenarios that would comfort you on your way to slumberland.
you let out a laugh that’s an odd mix of relief and disbelief, quickly replying “yes, yes, of course” to his awaiting face, which releases a look of relief itself before jude captures your lips with such passion you’re both knocked back onto the plush pillows, giggling into each other’s mouths until your hands find themselves running down the defined muscles of his abdomen and over his hardening cock.
#girlies i’ve never had alcohol in my life so i hope the way i wrote reader & jude being drunk was ok !!! 🫶🏽#then again i’ve never had sex in my life and i write extensively about it so u know . 😭😭😭#guys imagine if before every smut fic i wrote a disclaimer like ‘guys i-i’ve never had sex before but i hope i did okay with this 🥺🥺' LMAO#ALSO omg im sorry abt the inconsistencies in tone + tempo i legit wrote this over a 5 month period + came back to it at times when i didnt#feel like writing + i was just tryna get to the good bit iykwim ( ͡ ° ͜ʖ ͡ °)#˗ˏˋ 📝 ˎˊ˗#˗ˏˋ 💬 ˎˊ˗#jude bellingham#jude bellingham smut#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham x fem!reader#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham x you#jude bellingham x y/n#football imagine#footballer smut#footballer imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
imma be so real with you I did NOT care for all the cutesy ways they presented Vi and Cait's disbalanced social status in arc 3
#first off the parallel of cait arriving to let vi out of prison. but this time they ~have sex~. IN THE CELL THAT WAS UNJUSTLY HOLDING JINX#bitch why are you invoking THAT REALLY FUCKED UP SCENE right before such a milestone romance scene??? it's not cute??? JINX WAS JUST HERE#then the one thing cait tries to apologize for is MADDIE. GIRL. NO ONE CARES ABOUT MADDIE. WE CARE ABOUT HOW YOU KEPT DEMEANING#AND TORTURING ZAUNITES INCLUDING VI. but that isn't addressed bc vi needs to give her head. speaking of vi#VI WHY ARE YOU GIGGLING LIKE A SCHOOLGIRL YOU ARE IN A PRISON CELL. REMEMBER HOW YOU WASTED 7 YEARS OF YOUR LIFE IN ONE#then the way jinx believes vi should be with cait as an alternative to staying with her simply because she is too fucked up while cait make#vi happy. i am sorry but show me where did jinx see cait makes vi happy. then the show just rolls with that and says ''yeah vi should be#forced to leave jinx behind and choose piltover. this is a happy ending for everyone.''#and finally ''i'm the dirt under your fingernails'' WHAT A DEPRESSING FUCKING FINAL NOTE TO LEAVE YOUR RELATIONSHIP ON.#a zaunite is literal DIRT under a ruling class piltie's fingernails. and it's cute and means they are gonna be together forever. HELLO????#i don't know WHAT that thing is but that thing is NOT MY OTP#arcane liveblog#arcane spoilers#it's like they were planning to write a fucked up tragic romance story. like they were PLANNING to make cait the bad guy. IT IS CRAZY#they weren't let's be clear. but s1 was so deep and yielded to analysis so well. meanwhile if you look any deeper than shallow into s2 you#get interpretations like THIS#''finally a lesbian couple with a happy ending'' YEAH IF YOU IGNORE CLASS. IF YOU IGNORE CLASS BASED OPPRESSION. CMON GUYS WE DESERVE BETTE
187 notes
·
View notes
Text
ok but have we talked about transmasc!joel?
transmasc!joel, who found out he was pregnant with sarah, way too young and scared absolutely shitless
transmasc!joel, whose boyfriend left him when he came out, his baby girl not even a year old
transmasc!joel, whose baby brother may be an idiot, but that kid loves him and always has, and he sure as hell won't hear a bad word about his big bro
transmasc!joel, who had always been a tomboy growing up, navigating being a whole ass adult with a fully developed brain, finding comfort in his gender identity while doing everything he can not to let the scars of his adolescence affect sarah, letting her flourish however she will
transmasc!joel, who gives sarah the BIGGEST hug (and tries not to let her see the tear in his eye) when she casually mentions starting a GSA at her school
transmasc!joel, who's the heartthrob of the cul-de-sac, but surprisingly private when it comes to his dating life. but from the few bored housewives that he's had encounters with all agree, he sure knows how to get the job done (whether it's the one he's hired for or not)
transmasc!joel, who sees a whole lot of himself in his adopted kid, and if ever Ellie decides she wants to try out a different name or pronouns, he'll be right behind his kid in a way no one but tommy was for him
#I don’t think I’ve made this post before but I’ve def thought about it a lot#this has been in my drafts for like six months#gideon i'm tagging u because this is relevant to ur interests i think#also t4t transmasc!joel and transfem!tess having the best weirdest nastiest sex all the fucking time#ok just the general idea of transmasc joel being the one to give birth to sarah is SO important to me#please yell in my askbox#okay idk if GSAs are still a thing or if theyre QSAs or something else#but you get the gist (i hope)#tlou#tlou fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller imagine#transmasc joel#!!!!!
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
colin 🤝 anthony: making an heir in s3
#the rest of my serious input is that i think this will be a flirty thread in a sex scene#esp bc in the book they have sex before they're married#but not so far before that they had to change the wedding date (although colin does but simply bc he just wants to be married)#i think it'll be the same in the show#except mirror stuff and also colin being like hey let's get in on this heir-making competition#and pen will be like colin! we're not even married yet#and he's like well do you want children? and she'll be like yes...#and he'll be like well our wedding is not so far out that starting now versus on our wedding night matters...#and pen will be like but my sisters are already pregnant#and colin will be like they could have girls! and i will love my prospective nieces very much but... we could still win this#and pen will laugh and roll her eyes and be like oh you bridgertons and your competitive spirit#and colin will be like we do like to win#(insert porn)#bridgerton#bridgerton spoilers#bridgerton s3 spec#polin#also. I DON'T SEEM SO DELUSIONAL NOW DO I!!!!!!! I FUCKING CALLED IT!!!!! I SAID THIS WOULD HAPPEN!!!! AND IT'S HAPPENING!!!!
167 notes
·
View notes
Text
#if you feel like laughing#i definitely laughed at this#idk how to tag this#this was today's summary of a TRA reblogging me#links are below before anyone accuses me of lying#because i get it I myself fail to comprehend this person's brain power#radblr#radical feminism#radical feminists do interact#feminism#radical feminist community#radical feminists please touch#radical feminist safe#radical feminists do touch#gender critical#gender abolition#terfism#terfsafe#terfblr#sex not gender
107 notes
·
View notes
Text
can i be honest? i dont think tim and bear have a really grand proposal. i think it happens at their apartment that they got bc bear finally put his foot down and went "baby you're immunocompromised. you cannot live on a murderboat on the gotham river" and tim reluctantly gives in but not without finding some random apartment complex that's still near the marina so he can go down and get his ass beat at poker by pie. and so it happens late at night, when tim is in nightwing sleep shorts and bear's old band tee on and bear is in some horrendous anime sweats and no shirt because their home is the only place he's ever felt comfortable leaving his scars out. and the lamplight gives a soft hazy glow to bear's tattoos and tim reaches under the shirt to scratch and in the movement bear can see the bear tim got tattooed onto his hip and he can't help grin softly. and they're both sitting on the couch as some lame ass procedural drama goes on in the background and they're eating batburger. tim's got the nightwing special and bear has the sword robin combo. and the ringbox is burning a hole through bear's thigh and tim makes some stupid comment about how lame meredith sounds begging some guy to love her and all bear can think is how much he loves this boy. so he gets up to get some water and he positions his phone so that he can get the best video bc tim is a sucker for home video and he plops down on the sofa hard enough that tim turns around to complain except bear is holding the ringbox open with a soft "marry me?" and tim goes "what?" and bear says "baby i have loved you since you walked through the gates of our high school and i loved you when you left and i loved you when you came back. i love the way you talk to yourself and i love the way dance when i put music on. and i even love the fact that you shove your ice cold feet in my shins every night. and i don't know exactly what to say except that i want to do this everyday until you get dentures and i get a hip replacement. and i want to be horny in the old age home and-" and tim cuts him off sob-laughing and says "can i say yes now?" and bear who is also crying says "wait, let me finish love. -and i want to do this in as many lives as we get together. so all this to says, timothy jackson drake, will you marry me?" and tim launches himself bear and shouts "yes, yes, yes! a thousand times over, yes" and they're sobbing as they slip the rings on each other.
#and then they fuck like rabbits all night#and then they tell the marina and that ends up being a multiple day celebration#and then they keep their engagement to themselves for like a year before bear gets hurt at work one day and tim says he his husband#to get access to bear and everyone is like HUSBAND???? and tim is mortified bc they've gotten so used to calling each other that#at home and now it's slipped out in public and anyway bruce and dick go full dad/bro-zilla#just absolutely insane over the wedding details and tim and bear dont know how to break it to them that they were never planning on#having a huge wedding and that they were just gonna go down to the courts and sign their name#and then they do that anyway during the wedding planning process and they get the marina together and they have a partyyy#an pie is fucking sobbing by the way#and mrs gupta from the houseboat all the way at the end is a little miffed bc 'why didnt you tell me u were taken bernard?'#and tim has to stop himself from launching at the woman bc he did tell her!!! and she kept trying to set bear up with her son who#works at the hospital!!!!!#and miss bongkamtree from next door just wants to know if it means they'll stop having super loud sex#and bear smirks and goes 'sorry next 5 years are booked for super loud sex'#anyway they get married ontop of their apartment on the rooftop garden and lemme tell you it's packed up there#and the reception is in the marina ofc!!!#those are their people!!!!#bernard dowd#tim drake#timbern#timber
52 notes
·
View notes
Text
i know we talked abt toji who's bad with technology but.... i can't stop thinking abt him taking pics like tom hardy in his myspace era
#does anyone see my vision#PLSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS#this is MY toji#need to pay sb to draw toji like this#the right picture is my favourite pic of all time#might get it tatted on me actually#also i love tom hardy#he's so cool#like look at this mf#kinda gender actually#like how do i become this#need to be him#wait the more i sit here with this post the more i keep thinking abt how similar they are#sexy ass big men who are comfortable with their sexualities#the famous “i'm an actor ofc i've had gay sex before” quote tells you everything i think#they're the same#obsessed with this thank you mickey#will be thinking abt them for the rest of the day now#mickey vs gender#7 - 12#toji
101 notes
·
View notes
Text
No but Astarion wanting to be valued for more than sex and seen for something that's not just sex regardless of who romances him and Wyll wanting a chaste and genuine romance with sincere and committed courtship with no sex regardless of who romances him is insaneeeeee. I know everyone's talked about this before but everytime I stop to think about it I lose my mind. They couldn't be more narratively bound I'm clawing at the bars of my cage
#I put my lengthy tags in a reblog if you want.#And yes ofc Wyll teaching Astarion compassion and Astarion teaching Wyll to value himself and advocate for himself#Make them perfect for each other#But THIS to me is the nail in the coffin (pun intended) of why they are meant for each other#Wyll would not fall for Astarion's seduction attempts he is the only companion who would not give in to having meaningless sex w him#Or if not meaningless sex then immediate sex ykwim#Likewise Wyll's identity as a monster hunter and a chivalrous champion of the people would make him the prime target of Astarion's whims#Because who better to protect a monster but the monster hunter TURNED INTO A MONSTER himself.#Astarion would jump on the chance to use Wyll's devil transformation to his advantage and Wyll is THE ONLY ONE it wouldn't work on.#Wyll may have fallen first but Astarion fell harder than Elturel when he finally realised Wyll is GENUINELY good#And that he GENUINELY does not want sex and does not love Astarion for the possibility of sex#He asks for a fucking dance. He asks for a fucking dance before he ever even entertains the idea of sex. And he is steadfast about it#And astarion would play along with the romance just until he can get Wyll to help him kill Cazador#But would inevitably fall in love with Wyll along the way no matter what because Wyll is just genuine and chaste no matter what#“Wyll is the type of man I used to dream of marrying. When I was 13” he is doomed to fall for Wyll no matter what and he hates it#wyllstarion#Wyll Ravengard#astarion ancunin#bg3 astarion#bg3 wyll#Bloodpact#Coolest fucking ship name ever also. No one does it like them
144 notes
·
View notes
Text
the glenn macdennis comment hurt obviously but also so necessarily cause i’d gotten too delusional i was too obsessed with the potential final prize instead of fully enjoying what i love about what macden is rn which is the saddest awfulest gay tragedy ever written this is such a good catalyst for lowering my expectations and just living laughing loving in the doomed queerbait this is what shipping’s about what fandom’s about what life is about let us rest peacefully knowing that we absolutely will still get shit and it’ll be crazy and funny and sad but ultimately the power to make it beautiful lies with us. as the queerbait gods intended
#or is this just coping. who knows#do still need a five minute sex scene but they can be friends after it#because he is right. it’s funny#it’s also horrible which is the show#but yeah stings oh boy it stings but also this is so so good and fun#and then if it does end up happening we didn’t expect it which makes it better lmao#overall very important thing i think. this is how queerbait should be done it’s beautiful#but yes hush hush don’t worry this is better in the long run i promise#unless it stunts the character development but i don’t think they’d let that happen#that’s like glenn’s favourite thing#but yeah macden is so beyond normal queerbait anyway and i’d honestly been forgetting how fun it was before s16 when it was so unknown#i’m so ready to get back to that complete lack of trust in anything before s17#seeing that tweet did feel like being shot though#‘we need more doomed toxic queerbait’ you couldn’t even handle glenn howerton saying macdennis will never be fully canon#iasip#macdennis#+
58 notes
·
View notes
Text
I know my ass says this every time there’s a new season but god DAMN, heartstopper is such a good show for teenagers
#the klock keeps ticking#heartstopper#and also before i go on my ramble let me get my obligatory angy moment out of the way#i wish aled was in the show im never gonna be over this i think isaac is turning out great but like#every time i see him it just feels so wrong lol its like. WHERES MY BOY WHERES MY GUY RADIOOOO#okay anyways#i only watched the first 2 episodes of s3 but damn its just like so good at the tone#so good at being sweet but serious when it needs to be#so good at showing healthy communication methods in a way teenagers can practice#and just like saying that hey. your partner is struggling with something and you arent responsible for fixing them cuz you literally cannot#do that and you are literally 16 theyre gonna need much more than this#and this is a part of growing up and having your relationships mature like you will have to go through shit like this together sometimes#and its a lot but you can still show love and support without straining yourself it just takes practice and patience#im so glad a show like this exists for teenagers cuz damn i havent seen anything be this good for that specific demographic in uh#like ever? something thats so good at acknowledging that teenagers have these problems or drink or have sex#without doing some euphoria bullshit#just tows the line so well
31 notes
·
View notes
Text
Why have sex when u can watch blackhead removal videos
#u even get bad sex. which is when you want to throttle the neck of whoever’s doing said blackhead removal#someone in the comments section said all of us are watching this thinkijg move over and let me do it. and honestly. yeah#it’s hard to find good videos that either 1) dont cut out just before the satisfying part or 2) don’t take fucking FOREVER to do it#in the most cursed awful way possible#im very passionate about this. unfortunately I can’t just blurt this out like a water cooler conversation#but it’s fucking satisfyingggggg#I’m not a big fan of the squeezing but like if u use the tweezers JUST RIGHT and twirl it around and then PULL IT OUT. chills#if orgasms were real that’s what it would feel like#I feel like laios dunmeshi just talking about this#yapping
80 notes
·
View notes
Text
So there was a post a while back about Ben Solo always being told "don't do (x), that's how uncle luke lost his hand" when he was a kid - and I raise you: Elrond and Elros being told "don't do (x), that's how Maedhros lost his hand"??
Like, at Amon Ereb when the twins were newly acquired and refusing to eat their vegetables and Maglor is Mag-mothering them until Erestor, feral half-sane clinically depressed anarchist Avari hostage/patient/infiltrator and Certified Little Shit, hits em with:
"I would listen to the Lord Maglor, winyamor, he well knows the dangers that come to young elflings who don't eat enough vegetables - after all, that's how his brother lost his hand."
Elrond looks conflicted. Elros squints suspiciously. "Truly?"
Erestor, practically comatose since the massacre but ultimately saved from Fading by the biological compulsion to fuck with you, lays a hand over his heart. "I would never lie about such a thing! Just what do you take me for? This is a true tale and a grave warning - the Lord Maedhros' hand was tragically lost in the days of his youth, whilst he was still growing as you are. He refused to eat his vegetables and so, cruelly deprived of the strength it needed to grow strong, his body started to fall apart! First his fingers, then his thumb, and then his palm and wrist - all turned blue and dropped off!"
"No!" Elrond gasps. Elros looks both terrified and impressed. Maglor's face is scrunched up into something that the twins probably interpret as pained - at reminder of the horrors of limbs falling off! - but is actually just him busting a rib trying not to laugh.
"Yes!" Erestor cries with relish. "And it never grew back. All because he didn't eat his vegetables. Isn't that right, Lord Maedhros?"
Maedhros, a looming terror at the head of the table, scarred and solemn and impenetrable as his fortresses, narrows his eyes consideringly at the unfolding shenanigans and the rascal behind it. His conclusion? Fuck it. He gives a slow, solemn nod. Completely deadpan and exaggeratedly formal, because it may have been centuries since he last had his brothers smothering laughter at political dinners but the Finwëan sense of humour, once caught, is not an ailment easily cured.
Maglor conceals his wheezes behind his goblet as Erestor nods sagely to the wide-eyed twins, who suddenly seem a sight more interested in their vegetables.
#it helps that maedhros also has a metric fuck ton of scars so he can make up so much shit#know how i lost my eye? didnt go to bed on time and it shrivelled up#why do i have to wear a shoulder brace sometimes? didn't practice my letters and the bones all fell apart#where'd my fingernails go? didnt wash my hands before eating and they ran away#why is my back all stripy with criss-cross lines? didnt use my cutlery and they attacked me#why are some of my teeth metal? cause i didnt clean em properly for two minutes with mint ointment and i accidentally ate them in my sleep#whys there grey bits in my hair? didnt bathe after running around in the woods and the cobwebs got stuck and never came out#what happened to my ears? ducked underneath a horse and it spooked and bit them off so never ever do that again elros its very dangerous ok#i dont care your ears are smaller because youre peredhel elros the horse will get you#whys my hair so short? didnt comb it so it was stolen by orcs now hand me the brush and get over here elrond your head's a birdnest#for all that the kid's questions sometimes make maedhros a lil uncomfortable its actually really healing for him#sure sauron whipped him until his spine broke but now he uses those marks to get his kids to eat with cutlery like civilised people#and he cut his hair in a depressive spiral after fingon died but his kids think it was so tangled the orcs stole it to make scruffy orc wig#and his shoulders fucked from hanging on thangondrim for decades but if you kids dont sit down and do your lessons then so help me -#his beloved fingon always kissed his scars when he was allowed but it was witty irreverent half insane erestor who helped him laugh at them#i kind of ship it in a 'secret third thing' kinda way u feel me? not sex not friends but they bring a lot out of eachother its weird#erestor#maedhros#kidnap fam#elrond and elros#maglor#there is a fic that goes with this who wants it
25 notes
·
View notes
Text
not to get all "actually☝️" about it but. the whole point of this is the fact that it isn't at all eddie's fault and buck just doesn't know how to properly process or recognize his feelings and know what he's missing *until* he gets presented with a specific situation. in truth buck has no right to be mad at eddie for building bonds with other ppl and it's why he has to do some introspection. this is not a "oh no poor buck eddie apologize to him!!!" thing, it's about buck getting, for lack of a better term, a good emotional humbling. eddie deserves good friendships and relationships, full stop. and if he likes the way he feels when he hangs out with tommy then great!! he's his own person and not a tool to further buck's character. but you also can't expect buck to immediately recognize that because, again, and for the millionth time, the whole POINT is that he doesn't. so if it has to get ugly and uncomfortable and embarrassing for him to do so then that is what will happen and that doesn't make either of them bad people. this is not a blame to be passing around. it's just them being human beings
#and now for a more controversial opinion im the tags:#ppl who are saying that everything that happens to eddie is always made about buck in the end. ummm. i really don't see it??#eddie has had his own moments of introspection and emotional journeys#(single parenthood. death of his wife. ptsd. therapy. just off from what i remember)#and buck has as well#(sex addiction. issues with his sister and his parents)#and if you don't think buck deserves an ACTUAL emotional introspection instead of the surface stuff that has gotten nowhere before#(couch. multiple girlfriends that he breaks up with after a couple episodes. etc)#then idk what to tell you. you just might not like buck at all#and i say this as a total eddie girl. because i have been since i watched s2 and onward#what is your mania with comparing them? jesus christ some of you just dont know how to appreciate characters without arguing against others#and i'm kinda getting mad now#disk horse#911#911 spoilers#911 abc#eddie diaz#evan buckley#tommy kinard#buddie
75 notes
·
View notes