#like she does all the Mom things she's supposed to do and she does it well and proudly

[rafeysbunny]

‧₊˚ ⋅ i'll show you, rafe cameron

stepbro!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

synopsis. in which your stepbrother kindly offers to show you porn for the first time.

warnings. stepbro!rafe, innocent!reader (but she's not an airhead), virgin!reader, smut, fingering, rafe putting in just the tip, oral sex (fem receiving), rafe licks his own creampie.

word count. 4k.

author's note. idea by @matts1andonly. english isn't my first language so there might be spelling mistakes, don't hold it against me. enjoy!

it's past midnight when you finally slide out of your bedroom without making a sound. you have been waiting patiently for your mom and ward to go to bed so you can do this without risking getting caught. wheezie is already asleep too, sarah is out with john b somewhere, and rafe left the house earlier, not telling anyone where to, so you know he's going to arrive late, as always.

it's the perfect moment.

rafe's room is down the hallway, so you make your way there quietly not to wake anyone, your barefoot feet making soft footstep sounds when you walk. once there, you open the door as carefully as you possibly can, knowing it creaks every time it gets open. this time, thanks to god, it does not.

you manage to sneak into the dormitory unnoticed, then shut the door behind you. the place is dark, only a faint glimmer of moonlight coming in through his curtains, but you want to lay low, so you don't turn on the lights. by all means, the dim lighting is enough for you to spot what you're looking for.

rafe's mac, laying there on his desk.

what's the point behind all of this? you might be wondering. well, let me answer you real quick. turns out, this handsome, muscled college guy has invited you on a date. problem is, you have never been on a date. you haven't even hold hands with a guy romantically before, much less kissed or fucked one. you simply refuse to come off as a prude, which honestly you are, but that dream of a man doesn't need to know that.

and that's why you have decided that it is a good idea to break into your stepbrother's bedroom and borrow his laptop, since yours broke last week, to watch porn in it for the first time.

well, now that you hear it out loud, it probably sounded better in your head. anyways...

you stroll towards the desk with languid steps and sit down on rafe's chair, small hands reaching hesitantly to open the laptop. you turn it on and the screen light illuminates your pretty face right away. you swear your fingers are shaking a little bit as you open up the browser and type 'porn videos' on the search bar.

somehow, you feel like you are doing something wrong, and you can't seem to shake the guilt away. either way, you don't back out. you click the enter button and, after just a few seconds, a million search results pop up. honestly, you don't know where to start, so you click on the first one, which redirects you to a website called pornhub.

the home page is full of videos, the first thing to catch your attention being the obscene thumbnails of each one of them. your cheeks flush a deep shade of red. you read some of the titles as you bite your lip nervously, realising most of them contain the word 'stepsister' in them, and you wonder if that is the only content posted on this page.

how innocent of you not to know that the website is making recommendations based on your stepbro's most searched tag.

before things escalate further, you spot rafe's airpods max sitting there on the desk and decide to grab them, connecting them to the laptop and putting them on —this way you can make sure no one overhears anything. after that, you spend a few more minutes scrolling through the page, during which you discover that there's a ton of categories to choose from.

how are you supposed to know which one to pick?

you are so invested in your little research, headphones canceling the noise, that you don't hear neither rafe opening the front door nor him walking up the stairs and, surely, don't notice him standing behind you until he speaks. and it's too late by then.

"the fuck are you doing, sweetheart?" he blurts, complete and utterly shocked to see his naive stepsister fuckin' watching pornhub.

well shit, maybe you aren't as innocent as he thought you were.

you jolt instantly, jumping out of your seat as you feel all the colour draining from your cheeks. no way rafe just caught you in the act. this can't be real. despite how bad you want to run away, you are left with no other choice but to turn around and face him, wishing the earth would swallow you up.

"i– this is not what it looks like, i swear i can explain," you stutter nervously, taking of the airpods with trembling hands. from here on, the anxious rambling begins, "i wasn't doing anything... this guy– well, i... i uhm– i got a date, 'kay? with this guy from class and– listen, i know this is silly, but..."

"jesus christ, baby, slow down, 'kay?" he stops you, his heart nearly melting from how cute you look, so shy and flustered. he almost feels bad for interrupting whatever the hell you were doing here.

the colour has returned to your cheeks, and you are all flushed now, from head to toe. your face feels like it's on fire; you have never been this embarrassed before.

"could you please start over?" he asks, hoping to hear a coherent explanation to why you are in his room, in the middle of the night, and watching porn on his laptop.

you take a deep breath, fidgeting with the hem of your top. you are so deeply ashamed that you don't seem to remember that you are wearing nothing but a flimsy white singlet and a tiny pair of matching panties. rafe's very aware of that fact, though, hungry eyes trailing all over your beautiful body.

"i've got a date with a guy from class," you start explaining, white teeth nibling occasionally on your plump bottom lip, "but i've never dated anyone, ya' know? i've no experience, and i don't want him to think i'm pathetic if we..."

"fuck?" he finishes your sentence, a roguish grin spreading across his handsome face.

if possible, your blush deepens even more at the vulgarity while you mutter a quiet 'yeah' in response.

honestly, he is a bit jealous of that guy. not only you are willing to let him fuck you, but you are also trying to learn how to do it properly so he has a good time doing it. yeez, what a shame for him he is going to kill him as soon as he finds out who he is; there's no chance rafe's letting you near any other man but him.

"i thought, uhm, maybe watching that would help..." you add coyly, his silence making you more nervous.

it is cute how you try to avoid saying words like 'fuck' or 'porn', like it is a crime to pronounce them or something.

"you know what? let's watch it together," he proposes.

there's a mischievous glint in his eyes that doesn't go unnoticed. you swear your cheeks might just explode at any second, and you can't help the pathetic stutter that comes out when you talk. "uhm, i don't think that'd be appropriate," you refuse, shaking your head.

"why not? you want help, and i can help you here, sweetheart," he answers, his voice surprisingly soft and gentle —unlike rafe, "that's what big brothers are for, aren't they?"

he takes a few steps in his direction until he is standing right beside you. then, he grabs the laptop in his large hands as he flashes you a wicked smirk, his curtain bangs falling messily on his forehead. you gulp, having him so close makes you feel a certain way; you cannot deny that.

"you, uhm, being my stepbrother is exactly why not," you stammer as you tilt your head back to look at him, his height towering over you.

"bullshit," he retorts, huffing. "you trust me?"

your first mistake is, probably, trusting rafe cameron. "yeah, i do, but..."

"that's why 'm perfect for the job, baby," he interrupts you. his words are clearly intended to manipulate you, but you are way too innocent to notice it, "i'm probably the guy you feel most comfortable with, aren't i? i can give ya' all the advice you need."

to be fair, he isn't wrong about that. you don't have any male friends, and you are honestly too embarrassed to ask your girlfriends for help on this department, not wanting them to think less of you. plus, rafe is a guy; he knows better what guys like, right?

"wouldn't it be kinda... weird ?" you ask, clearly hesistant.

"weird?" he repeats. "no, 'course not."

only a few more sweet, reassuring words is all it takes for him to gently coax you into watching his favourite pornos with him. his cock starts to harden in his pants just at the thought of having you like that. when you finally accept, he swears he's on cloud nine.

god, he's been wanting you for months now; he can't believe this is happening.

"c'mere, baby," he eagerly instructs you, getting on his bed.

he sits with his back resting on the headboard and pats the spot between his legs to invite you to sit there. he places the laptop next to him, the pornhub website still open on it. you move slowly towards him, cheeks slightly flushed from the embarrassment as you settle on the mattress in between his parted thighs, your back pressed to his hard chest.

he wraps one strong arm securely around your waist, his hand coming to rest gently on your tummy. with his other hand, he reaches for the laptop sitting beside him, carefully bringing it closer so the two of you can see the screen properly.

your heart is beating so fast in your chest that he can probably hear it, too. the way he is touching you is not making it easier for you to stay calm, either, his fingers tenderly tracing patterns on your belly over the thin fabric of your shirt while he scrolls through the page.

he seems to sense your discomfort and chuckles low in his throat, his warm breath tickling your ear. "relax, sis," he whispers teasingly, his voice laced with amusement. "i'm not gonna make you watch anything that'll traumatize you."

"it's just– this is a bad idea," you babble, fidgeting nervously when he finally clicks on a video and a pretty young woman appears on screen.

the actress is beautiful; she has a gorgeous body and face. her lips are full and pink, and she has these big, expressive eyes that appear to gleam. and you don't realize it, but she looks exactly like you.

the scene starts playing; in it, the girl is watching some movie with a guy that, apparently, is her roommate —at least that's what the title says.

"shhh..." he hushes you softly, his voice barely audible over the sounds emanating from his laptop's speakers. "just watch. don't overthink it."

"okay," you answer between gritted teeth.

your pretty eyes are fixed on the laptop while you try not to cringe at how bad the script and acting are, which is nearly impossible, to be honest. despite that, you keep watching in silence as the video plays, growing more flustered as the clock ticks.

you didn't know mouths could be used for that... interesting.

as opposed to you, rafe's pretty chill behind you, like he's unbothered by this whole situation —he's actually hard as fuck inside his pants, the thing is you haven't noticed. you wonder how he can act so unfazed, since you keep pushing your thighs together to try and soothe the throbbing sensation building in between them while you take in the lewd actions occurring on screen.

you weren't expecting your body to have this reaction, and now you don't know what to do to make it stop.

rafe soon becomes aware of the way you keep letting out soft sighs and squirming in his arms, plush ass rubbing against his cock every time you do it. it's a miracle he is still holding back, though he doesn't know how much time he will be able to.

he's not even paying attention to the video anymore, his entire focus put on you. he finally ventures to lean in, his hot breath grazing the shell of your ear as he whispers, "you know, i could do that to you..." his hand slowly slides to your plush thigh and he gives it a gentle squeeze.

his movements are measured and controlled not to scare you, but your breath hitches in your chest at his actions either way, body tensing up in his grasp. your brain is telling you to push him away, but the insistent throb in your sex doesn't like that idea, not one bit.

"you– you could?" you utter quietly, not taking your eyes away from the laptop.

rafe notices the uncertainty in your voice, but the way you haven't pushed him away yet emboldens him to continue, his large hand gradually sliding north.

"yeah, baby," he murmurs huskily against your ear, fingertips brushing along your inner thigh. "i could put my fingers inside you, just like he's doing to her..."

his words make you blush heavily as a little gasp is released from your pouty lips. "would it feel good?" you ask naively.

your eyes are transfixed in the sight of the guy on the screen pushing his fingers inside the girl's pussy. god, she seems like she's enjoying it so much... and you desperately want to feel like that too. you can't even bring yourself to care that it's your stepbrother offering to show you.

rafe's fingers creep higher and higher until they're barely brushing against your cotton panties. "yeah," he growls huskily against your ear, "it'd feel real good, sweetheart. i promise..."

you shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. you tear your eyes away from the screen, head falling back against his chest as you look up at him.

"it's throbbing, rafe..." you whine, self-control slipping from your hands. "can you make it better?"

rafe's fingers finally make contact with your wet underwear, pressing against your clit through the fabric. he rubs gentle circles around your sensitive nub, his other hand curling around your supple thigh to spread your legs wider.

"oh, baby, you're soaked through your panties..." he pants out.

your body literally melts into his touch like butter, perfectly shaped brows knitting together in a frown of pleasure. the girl in the video moans, and you do too, both sounds echoing in the silence of his room.

taking your moan as an invitation, rafe carefully hooks his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, exposing your sopping cunt to the cool air of his bedroom. then, he traces your wet slit slowly, leisurely, as if savoring the velvety feel of your skin.

"such a pretty little pussy..." he praises, eyes hungrily taking in the pink expanse of flesh.

you squirm and let out a soft whimper, biting your lip right after to avoid keep making noises; the last thing you want is to wake up your parents or wheezie. rafe notices your struggle and swiftly reaches up to cover your mouth with his free hand, muffling your sweet moans.

he gathers some of the wetness dripping out of your cunt before trailing his fingers all the way up to your clit, rubbing it gently. your eyes roll back, hips bucking up against his hand instinctively. the way your swollen bud throbs beneath his fingertips is going to make you mad. he begins to touch your clit in fast, tight circles, his other hand still holding your mouth shut to keep you quiet.

he leans in to whisper against your ear, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine, "if you make a sound, i'll stop, got it?"

you nod obediently in response, making your best effort to comply; you don't want him to stop doing this, never. as a reward, rafe slides a thick finger down your slit and presses it against your clenched entry, steadily applying pressure until your tight muscles finally give in and allow his digit ingress.

"so fuckin' tight," he groans under his breath at the feeling of your narrow pussy engulfing his finger.

withdrawing his finger almost all the way out, he teases your entrance with the tip, making you tremble with anticipation before pushing it back in to the knuckle, his palm cupping your mound as he starts to thrust in a smooth, lazy rhythm. you swallow a whiny cry while your eyelids flutter shut, pretty face scrunched in a blissful expression.

rafe works his finger in and out of your slick pussy slowly, marveling at how your velvety walls flutter around the digit. he curls it inward, searching for that special spot that's guaranteed to drive you wild.

after a few experimental pokes, rafe's fingertip finally brushes over your g-spot, eliciting a muffled moan from under his palm. he smiles wickedly against your skin, and you shudder in his grasp, pleasure waves running through your body.

"that's it, sweetheart... feel good?" he croons softly, fingering you nice and deep.

you can't bring yourself to reply, the sensation of his large digit fucking your pussy, added to the constant rubbing of his palm against your puffy clit has your mind feeling all fuzzy. your body language is the only answer he needs, though.

rafe leans in to tenderly nip at your neck, his hot mouth latching onto your slender throat as he keeps pumping his finger steadily in and out of your dripping cunt. he knows you're close when he feels your inner muscles starting to clench erratically around his digit.

"rafe," you moan onto his palm as you feel this new, strange sensation building in your tummy, pussy tingling so nicely.

heaven help him. hearing you, his stepsister, moan his name like that makes rafe's hard dick throb almost painfully against his zipper.

and then it happens. the coil in your belly suddenly snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as you cum for the very first time, on your stepbrother's hand. rafe continues to pump his finger in and out of your spasming cunt as you ride out your climax, wanting to prolong your pleasure.

when you finally come down from your high, you're all shaky and flustered in his arms, panting heavily to try and catch your breath. he has a satisfied smirk on his lips while he slowly withdraws his slick digit from your quivering hole to bring it up to his mouth and lick it clean, savoring your taste.

"did so well for me, baby," he coos as he uncovers your mouth, gently turning your head to the side to press a kiss to your swollen, red lips.

you return it sloppily, eyes fluttering shut in the process, and you sigh contently against his mouth. he can't help but rock his hips against your ass, rubbing his hard on against you.

"did i make you feel good?" he asks between little kisses, his breathing growing uneven. you nod in response. "yeah? then it's just fair you make me feel good too, sweetheart... wanna do that f'me?"

"yes," you whisper against his lips without even thinking, feeling him smirk into the kiss.

"such a good girl," he praises.

at some point, the porn video playing on his laptop ended, so he simply closes it up and tosses it away, the device landing somewhere on his king size bed. then, he turns you both around, until you are laying on the mattress and he is on top of you.

he is quick to undo his pants and yank them down, just enough to free his raging hard on, which bounces against his abs. let me tell you this, he's big, the tip pink and fat, already leaking precum.

suddenly, realization hits you. this is your stepbrother for god's sake, are you really gonna let him fuck you?

he notices how your body tenses up, one hand reaching to stroke your plush thigh reassuringly while the other wraps around his shaft, giving it a slow pump.

"hey, baby, relax..." he whispers gently, "I'll put just the tip in, yeah? there's nothing wrong with that."

you hesitate. his strong arms slide beneath your legs to tug you closer. then his cock brushes your pussy and you whimper. how are you supposed to say 'no' ?

it's just the tip.

"mhmm, 'kay" you end up agreeing with a little nod.

rafe flashes you a lopsided smirk, his hand gripping his cock again while the free one yanks your panties aside once more. keeping eye contact, he slowly glides the fat head of his dick up and down your drenched slit, coating it thoroughly in your arousal. you shudder as his tip eventually meets your puffy clit, the gentle rubbing sending shivers down your spine.

"rafe," you whimper.

rafe's eyelids droop, a low hum of pleasure escaping his throat as he continues to slowly drag the reddened head up and down your chubby pussy lips with squelching sounds. his breathing grows heavier the longer he teasingly rolls it against your slick folds, reveling in your breathy whimpers. he feels like he's about to burst already, pre-cum steadily leaking from the tip and onto your flesh.

he can't fucking take this anymore.

with a slow, gentle thrust, he sinks his cock into your warm, slippery pussy, just the head breaching your entrance before he pauses, savoring the initial penetration. his eyes lock onto yours, his pupils blown wide with lust.

"jesus, fuck." he grunts.

your cunt starts fluttering around him. he has barely slided the first two inches in, as he promised, but he's so thick that even that feels like a tight fit. you let out a moan, which mingles with a strained groan from rafe as your velvety walls clench tightly around his swollen cockhead.

"gonna– might just nut already, shit" rafe mutters through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to just drive forward and hilt himself deep. "so goddamn tight."

your hips buck unconsciously against his, making him slip in just a tad further —which nearly makes him lose all his self-control. somehow, he manages to keep his shit together, hips rocking slowly to thrust in and out of you while his veiny hand strokes the rest of his shaft.

you're totally enthralled by the sight, liquid heat pooling in your belly while you watch him use your body for his pleasure. he looks so good, you can't believe he's real. your chest fills with pride at the knowledge that you're making this greek god feel good.

this is the fastest rafe has ever cum, the movement of his hips becoming jerky and sloppy after a few minutes as he spills his sperm inside you. he's panting heavily, sweat beading on his brow while his fist squeezes the base of his cock tightly.

you're left wanting more when he slowly pulls out, pussy stretched out and leaking white spurts of cum. he gazes down at you with a smirk, lightly tapping the head of his dick against your swollen clit, which has you writhing beneath him.

"so fuckin' gorgeous stuffed full of my cum," he whispers, his cock smearing the sticky substance all over your slit. you mewl in response. "hmm, 'm sorry for making such a mess on your pretty pussy, sweetheart, lemme clean it up, yeah?"

you blush in response when he leans forward, throwing your creamy thighs over his broad shoulders, to put his mouth onto your sex. you almost cry at the heavenly feeling, his playful tongue delving between your folds to lap up his own release. he cleans you up thoroughly, only to mess you up again right after, his spit soaking your cunt as he makes you cum again.

after tonight, you are cancelling that date, that's for sure.

[scribefindegil]

Lorraine Baines McFly and Female Autonomy

Hello. I have spent the past month slowly losing my mind about Lorraine Baines McFly, Marty's mom in Back to the Future, so I am finally trying to articulate some of the reasons I'm so feral about her.

There's a quote from Lea Thompson, the actress who played Lorraine, that goes, "The three parts that women usually get to play are virgins, whores, and mothers, and in Back to the Future Part II, I got to play all three." While this is commentary on Hollywood and the limited roles that fictional women get forced into, I think it's also interesting to think about it in terms of how these roles are reflected onto actual women and used to limit their personhood and confine them to a very narrow range of acceptable behaviors . . . and then in turn to think about how the character interacts with these roles on a Watsonian level. They're affecting not just Lorraine the character as she was written, but Lorraine from an in-universe perspective trying to navigate life as a woman in a patriarchal world. Some of the sexism she faces is a deliberate narrative choice and some of it is a result of the writers' blind spots, but for the purpose of this essay I'm less interested in teasing out which threads are which and more in looking at it holistically.

Because the thing about Lorraine is that she's aware of what the acceptable roles and behaviors for women are, and the versions that we see of her across the various timelines alternately fight against and capitulate to these constraints. What is a woman allowed to be? How much is Lorraine willing to break from those restrictions? How much does she allow other women to break from them? Does she resent her role or embrace it? I have a lot of thoughts specifically about how the different iterations of her interact with concepts of female agency and autonomy.

(Putting this under a cut because it is. Long.)

I started thinking about this when I was talking with my partner about 50's Lorraine. She's extremely active and driven and planning to Get What She Wants (in a way that is very scary, if you are Marty) . . . but at the same time she's clearly aware that she isn't supposed to be. A Good Fifties Girl is demure and passive. Lorraine isn't--but she's still trying to toe the line. I think constantly about the scene where she shows up at Doc's garage to be like "I followed you home . . . so that I can ask you to ask me to the dance." The girl can embrace borderline stalking but she draws the line at directly asking a boy out! She's exercising a lot of agency but views doing so as rebellious and subversive--and risky.

And I also want to talk about the whole "boy crazy" thing because like . . . society (especially in the fifties) tells women that the most important thing they can possibly do is find a good man and become wives and mothers, that this will define the success or failure of their entire lives (and given how many things were unavailable to single women at the time this is in many ways true) . . . and then relentlessly mocks and punishes anyone who actually takes an interest in pursuing this instead of just sitting back passively and waiting. She is trying to do what society says will make her happy! And even her desire for a white knight is very much based in the reality of her situation! She's getting sexually harassed at school and around town and she's doing exactly what she's supposed to and standing up for herself and saying no and fighting back--and this is not enough. She does need backup! Biff harasses her in the middle of a crowded cafeteria and Marty is the ONLY person who does anything! No fucking wonder she latches onto him as hard as she does! (There's. I promise this is related but there's a BttF parody musical on YouTube where when Strickland comes to break up the lunchroom fight he says, "Now, I can excuse sexual harassment, but LIGHT SHOVING?" and like it's a haha funny joke but also?? Yeah?? That IS how it works. The way Lorraine's being treated is so overlooked and normalized that the authority figure isn't going to step up the way he will when it's a physical altercation between two guys. Screams.) I wonder if part of the reason she stuck with George in the original timeline even though they didn't have a lot in common is that "I have a boyfriend" is a boundary that some people might actually take seriously whereas "I'm not interested" is not.

But. In general 50's Lorraine is very much about grabbing as much agency as she feels she's allowed to . . . and then Twin Pines Lorraine is what happens when she regrets the result of those choices (because while we don't see it, it's pretty obvious that in the original timeline she pursued George as aggressively as she pursues Marty in the new one), and so she decides to deny, not just her own agency, but female agency as a general concept. She leans so heavily on the idea that her relationship was "meant to be" because it absolves her of any culpability in creating a life she's unhappy with. She's rewritten her own past to view herself as a passive participant in something inevitable. (Exactly the view of womanhood that she was fighting so hard against in the 50's!) And she extends this idea of female passivity to the women around her: telling Linda that she should sit back and wait and a relationship will "just happen," actively resenting Jennifer for doing something as simple as calling Marty on the phone. It's a really interesting form of internalized misogyny, perpetuating these sexist ideas as almost a misguided form of self-defense.

And then for Lone Pine Lorraine this is completely flipped! She loves Jennifer for the same reason she disliked her in Twin Pines: because she reminds Lorraine of her younger self. And like . . . this is something of an extrapolation, but while obviously her husband and kids are still very important to her, it also feels like she has interests and friends and other things going on in her life, whereas part of the isolation of Twin Pines is that her life has shrunk down to the point where she's ONLY a wife and mother with nothing else to define herself by. And it also matters that in this timeline she has a partner that supports her, not just in the big dramatic moments (although also that), but you can easily see the dance as a catalyst for George actually learning to listen to her and stand up for her about smaller things as well. George McFly feminism arc. (I'm being slightly facetious but like. George starts off kind of shitty. The spying is actively Bad and I hope Marty chewed him out for it offscreen, but also his reaction to the harassment scene being "I think there's someone else she'd rather go with," implying that he sees what Biff is doing as like. Normal flirting that he expects to work. He doesn't GET it. Unsurprising because he is. A teenage boy in the fifties. But I do believe that saving Lorraine was something of a wakeup call and after that he listened to her about things that make her uncomfortable and gave her the support that she needed. Which would also give her a lot more freedom in this timeline because she has someone with more societal power who has her back!)

And then. Hell Valley.

If Lone Pine is the version of Lorraine who has the most freedom, the most opportunities to make decisions based on what she wants instead of What Is Expected Of A Woman, Hell Valley is the opposite. The things denying her agency in Twin Pines is largely societal forces (and herself); in Hell Valley she is actively being denied autonomy by her evil husband who functions as the personification of a bunch of sexist ideas.

She's been objectified to the point that she doesn't maintain control over her own body; Biff pressures her to get cosmetic surgeries so she can continue to look attractive to him because that's the only value he sees in her. Her physical appearance is entirely tailored to his preferences.

Biff's view of Lorraine is wife-as-possession. He treats her like a prize he's won and her kids like parasites. And he is NOT subtle about this. But Lorraine is still desperately clinging to the idea that she's wife-as-family. She calls Biff "your father" to Marty when he arrives, and talks about "our children" because she wants so so badly for this to be something different than what it is. It's especially terrible because this is a timeline where she got seventeen years of being happy with George, she knows what she's missing, and she keeps trying to force this new relationship into a similar mold even though Biff is openly contemptuous of her and especially her kids. It's been twelve years and she's still trying to pretend. To call back to that Lea Thompson quote: it's obvious where Biff thinks Lorraine fits on the virgin-mother-whore axis, while Lorraine is actively trying to centralize her motherhood partially because the kids really are that important to her and partially as a defense mechanism.

(And it's also such a bleak cautionary tale about how fragile women's stability can be when they're dependent on their husbands; Lorraine was happy with George and had a fair amount of freedom, but he was the only one with an income so when he died she was suddenly forced into a truly horrific situation because she had no other means to support herself and her three young children. Especially given that the Hell Valley universe is also worse in some broader political ways that mean there were probably even fewer social supports available than in real life 1973)

And god. It kills me the way that we see her lash out, the way she's clawing for autonomy when she threatens to leave . . . and then exactly how Biff levels all his axes of control against her. It's very interesting that his first tactic is consumerist (Who will pay for all your things? Who will take care of you?) and that doesn't work even though not being able to support herself is a very real concern. It's only when he threatens her kids that she folds. And then she immediately crumples and pivots to rationalizing Biff's behavior and blaming herself for her own abuse (in a way that is both HEARTBREAKING and also? surprisingly sympathetic and realistic for an 80's movie?). It's similar to the passivity we see in Twin Pines, but here we see exactly where it comes from. She doesn't have any way out so she has to pretend. It's the only way she can keep going. She has these flashes of rage but they're immediately snuffed out by despair and denial.

There's not a lot of talk about Lorraine and what there is tends to reduce her to "well she's Marty's mom" as if she's a boring character who doesn't have a lot going on. But even though most of her role in the movies has to do with her relationships with the various men in her life, those relationships are really interesting if you actually pay attention to them! She's not just (in the 80's) a wife and mother--she's someone who has a complex relationship with marriage and motherhood and the societal expectations surrounding them. She's not just (in the 50's) a vapid boy-crazy girl--she's doing her best to go after what she wants in a world that doesn't want her to (the fact that one of the things she wants turns out to be her time-traveling son from the future is unfortunate but not something she has any way of knowing!). She's stuck in a society that doesn't want women to be people, and she knows this, and because we see her across two different time periods and three different timelines you can watch how sometimes society grinds her down until she gives in and tries not to be a person. And also how, sometimes, she fights back.

[fictionalcharactersaremypassion]

Liam and His Ickey

Set around s5 I guess

In the show, Liam doesn't really talk until he's older so he doesn't really say much here

4 +1

///

“Carl, don’t shovel it in like that, you’re going to burn your mouth,” Fiona frowns in disapproval. She’s made a big batch of potato soup for dinner, and honestly, it’s really fucking good. Mickey’s not used to home cooked meals. Him and his siblings are either eating what little is around the house or whatever they manage to steal. 

“I’m hungry,” Carl says in between mouthfuls. 

“Jesus,” Ian mutters. 

It’s mostly quiet around the table. Debbie chatters about school and fucking Lip adds in a thing or two about his own life that Mickey couldn’t find it in himself to give two shits about. 

Even so, it’s kind of...nice he supposes, to sit around the table like this. Fuckin’ weird, but he’s never really had this. Back when his mom was around, they never ate together. She was always sprawled out on the couch, passed out and intoxicated. 

Ian’s fingertips leave a ghostly trail on his leg. The electric current shoots up Mickey, leaves him tingling, and he flushes, hoping nobody else notices. 

“Mmm,” Liam says suddenly. He looks up at Fiona with a toothy grin, soup around his mouth. “Mmm.” 

She laughs. “It’s good, huh?” 

He nods and mmms, again. 

“Well, at least I have Liam’s approval,” she says to the rest of them humorously. 

“He’s just trying to get on your good side,” Ian teases, “so you don’t give him a bath.” 

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Fiona groans. “I think it’s my turn.” 

“Glad it’s not mine,” Debbie says. “I hate doing it now. He splashes too much.” 

“I don’t mind,” Carl pipes up now that he’s almost done with his bowl. “He makes it look like a waterpark in there.” 

“Yeah, that’s just what we need,” Fiona deadpans. 

Lip wipes his mouth, takes a drink of his beer. “I think Mickey should have a turn,” he says, and Ian and Mickey’s head swivel in his direction. “It’s only fair now that he’s living here.” 

Fuckin’ asshole. Mickey glares at him. 

“No fucking way.” 

“Come on, Mick,” Lip must have a fucking death wish. “Haven’t you bathed a kid before?” 

“Lip,” Ian says warningly. 

“What? I’m just saying. We always rotate the chores.” 

“Mickey helps out around here,” Ian says firmly. Yeah, he fucking does. Doin’ the laundry, the dishes and other shit. He never did any of that at home. “If he doesn’t want to bathe Liam, he doesn’t have to.” 

“Ian’s right,” Fiona agrees. Huh, Mickey takes a second to blink. “He doesn’t have to.” 

“Okay, okay,” Lip grumbles, holding his hands up in surrounder. “It was just a suggestion.” 

“Yeah, a stupid ass one,” Mickey interjects. Lip rolls his eyes. 

Silence falls over them again. Their spoons clink against the bowls, chairs creaking whenever someone shifts. 

“Ickey,” Liam pipes up again. All heads turn his way, expressions flicker with confusion. 

“What did he say?’ Ian asks. 

“Ickey,” Liam repeats. 

“He said Ickey...” Debbie furrows her brow. “Is he trying to say Mickey?” 

“Ickey,” Liam emphasizes. This brings forth a laugh from Fiona and Ian. 

“It’s fitting,” Lip quips. Mickey scowls. 

“What the fuck ever.” He digs into his bowl, taking a large scoop and ignoring them all. 

Fucking assholes. 

*

Mckey thinks it’s a one and done kinda thing. For a while, Liam doesn’t say it again, and the others make a few jokes for a couple of days before they move on to something else. 

Of fucking course it isn’t that simple. Liam waits for the perfect opportunity to strike. He’s a fucking sadist, Mickey’s sure. 

Today, Colin and Iggy drop by. His brothers are starting to be around more since Mickey came out. It’s uncomfortable as fuck, even though Ian beams like it’s the most fucking precious thing he’s ever seen. 

His boyfriend really is gay as hell. 

“What do you fuckheads want?” Mickey demands, His words don’t have as much heat to them, not really, it’s just how he talks. 

Iggy tosses a plastic bag his way. “He’s more of your clothes, Stupid.” 

“What brought what we could,” Colin shrugs. “Terry burned most of it.” 

“Asshole,” Mickey mutters. 

Iggy nods a little too enthusiastically. “Shoulda seen it. He made a huge fire pit in the backyard.” 

“Whoop de fucking doo.” 

He’s pretty sure both his brothers are complete idiots, because Colin glances around, not even trying to be subtle here. “Where’s your boyfriend?” 

There’s this change to his tone at the word boyfriend, like it’s this strange new thing for him to grasp. Mickey supposes in a way it is. 

“None of your damn business, that’s where,” he retorts. 

“Cool it, Mick,” Colin rolls his eyes. “I’m just askin’.” 

“He’s just protectin’ his boy, ain’t that right?” Iggy grins. 

“Do you wanna fucking die?” 

He staggers back when Colin uses the palm of his hand to push his chest. 

“You forget that we changed your diapers,” his older brother snorts. “We’re not scared of you.” 

Iggy nudges Colin. “Remember when he used to get mad if he thought we didn’t hug him enough before bed.” 

“I never did that!” Mickey snaps, his ears going pink. 

“God,” Colin shakes his head. “He used to throw the worst tantrums. Worse than Mandy ever did.” 

He doesn’t need any of that information to get back to the ears of any Gallagher. “If you don’t have anything else for me then get the fuck out,” Mickey orders. 

“Aw, Mick-”

“We were just messing around, dumbass.” 

“I don’t give a shit,” Mickey folds his arms. 

At that moment, they all hear thudding coming down the stairs. Mickey assumes it’s Carl until he turns to find Liam all dressed in his pajamas. 

“Liam, come on. It’s time for bed,” Fiona’s voice is getting closer. Kid musta ran right outta the bathroom. 

Unfortunately, he has really bad timing. He spots Mickey, beams and says, 

“Ickey!” 

Fuck, Mickey sulks while his brothers crack up laughing. 

“Did he just call you Ickey?” Colin howls. 

Iggy is laughing so hard he leans against Colin for support. Liam giggles too, even though he probably doesn’t know what’s so funny. 

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up,” Mickey sneers. “It’s real fucking funny.” 

*

“Ickey.” 

“Mickey,” he enunciates slowly. “Quit forgetting the M, kid.” 

They’re sitting at the kitchen table where it all started, just him and Liam. Ian comes down the stairs, shooting Mickey this shit-eating grin. He comes over to the cabinet to get himself a glass, filling it with kool aid. 

“How’s the spelling lesson going?” He asks lightly, taking a seat beside him. 

“Fuck off.” 

Liam just doesn’t listen no matter how many times he tries. Mickey thinks it’s a Gallagher trait. 

“Mickey,” he repeats. 

“Ickey,” Liam says solemnly. 

Ian snorts. Mickey contemplates strangling him. 

“It’s not Ickey,” Mickey says through grit teeth. “It’s Mickey.” 

Liam does not agree. “Ickey!” He exclaims defiantly because that’s all these Gallaghers knew how to do. 

“No!” Mickey barks. 

“Has anyone ever said you’d be a good teacher?” Ian says. 

Fuckin’ Gallaghers. 

“I’m never touching your dick again if you don’t shut the fuck up,” Mickey threatens. 

“You make a really compelling argument,” Ian says, not at all sincere. 

Remind him again why he chose this dumbass? 

“You know, if you keep bringing attention to it, he’ll keep doing it,” Ian continues. “Just ignore it.” 

“No,” Mickey shakes his head. “Cuz he’ll think he’s won and he didn’t win.” 

“He’s three, Mickey.” 

“So what? You think your ginger ass wasn’t annoying at his age?” 

“You didn’t know me at three,” Ian says, amused. 

“Don’t have to know you. You’ve always been fucking annoying,” Mickey says. “Nah, I ain't gonna acknowledge it unless he says it right.” 

Ian rolls his eyes. “Seriously?” 

“Seriously, Firecrotch.” 

“You’re at war with a three year old, you know that right?” 

Mickey ignores that. He knows he can win this. He ain’t gonna be outsmarted by a damn kid. 

It goes quiet. Liam loses interest in the conversation so he goes to color in the living room. Mickey accepts a beer that Ian offers him, and they just sorta sit there, close and enjoying that the house isn’t currently being overrun with a million Gallagher brats. 

Few minutes or so pass when Mickey feels a tug on his jeans. 

Liam has a picture he wants to show him. “Ickey, look!” 

So he deliberately turns away. 

“Oh my God,” Ian mutters. 

“Ickey,” Liam repeats. He frowns when Mickey doesn’t respond in any way. “Ickey!” 

“Seriously?” Ian sighs. 

“Ickey!” Liam starts to poke him incessantly. Mickey takes a deep breath. He won’t let himself be bothered. 

Except it does bother him. 

Poke, poke, poke. 

“Ickey, Ickey, Ickey-” 

“What?” Mickey explodes, whirling around in the chair to face him. His outburst startles Ian a bit but Liam is unfazed. He’s grinning and holds up the drawing. 

“Look!” 

Ian stands up, bringing the cup to his lips as he passes by to put it in the sink. “I guess Liam won,” he comments nonchalantly. 

*

Now he’s not just goin’ around calling him Ickey. He’s been sayin’ My Ickey too. 

“My Ickey,” he’ll say at random times, just pointing to him. 

Maybe it’s because they’re around each other a lot. Him and Gallagher stay at the house whenever Mickey’s not working while Ian tries to get adjusted to these new meds. So he sees them two more than anybody else. 

Ian says Mickey is partly to blame, he shouldn’t be saying, “No!” whenever the kid says it because it’s just encouraging him. 

What the fuck ever. 

Like now, while they’re trying to watch TV, Liam decides he should be the one in the middle. 

“My Ickey,” he says to them seriously. 

“You wanna sit next to Mickey?” Ian grins. Liam nods. 

“Too fucking bad,” Mickey says blandly. “Stay there, Red.” 

“He’s just a little kid, Mick-”

“So what?” 

Liam becomes impatient from a lack of action. He pushes his way onto the couch, trying to separate them. Ian laughs and scoots over. Mickey wishes he wouldn’t. He’ll fucking murder somebody if they knew but he liked having his redhead right there with him. 

Once there, Liam leans into Mickey, hugging his arm. “My Ickey,” he says, strangely firm for a kid. 

“I think I have competition,” Ian snickers. 

“Ay, Kid,” Mickey tries shaking his arm but Liam has a good grip on it. “Let go.” 

Liam ignores him. 

“Face it, Mickey,” Ian says cheerfully. “You’ve won the hearts of two Gallaghers. How’s that feel?” 

“Fuckin’ great,” Mickey deadpans, although there might be some part of him that warms ever so slightly. It’s not like he’s used to people seeking him out other than Ian. 

That warmth floods him from head to toe when Laim squirms his way into his lap, his head against Mickey’s chest. He’s pretty sure Ian’s giving them those heart eyes right now. 

Whatever. This Ickey shit still has to go.

*

He’s trying to sleep. He’s nearly there when he feels a tug on his shirt. 

“Wha-” he mutters sleepily. 

Liam’s beside the bed, clenching a stuffed bear that’s seen better days. 

Ian’s sleeping soundly as is Carl. Mickey sits up slowly so he won’t wake his boyfriend. “What’s up, Kid?” He yawns. 

“Ickey,” he chews on his lips. From the moonlight, he can see tears in Liam’s brown eyes. 

“You have a nightmare?” Mickey says, hushed. 

Liam nods. 

“Fine. Go on,” Mickey jerks his head towards the bed Liam’s using, the one that Carl used to sleep in back when Lip was here. 

The kid climbs onto the bed and Mickey follows. Liam’s been having a lot of nightmares recently, and with no one else up at this hour to tend to him, that falls on Mickey. 

“What happened this time?” Mickey whispers. 

“Monster,” Liam sniffles. 

“Ay, it’s okay,” Mickey pulls the blanket up so it’s covering Liam again. “There ain't no monsters here. No unless you count that goofy ass red giant over there.” 

His words do little to comfort the kid. 

Come on, work with me here, he thinks. 

“Look,” Mickey says, “even if there were monsters, we wouldn’t let ‘em get to you, alright? We’d let ‘em eat Lip if we had to.” 

This makes Liam giggle. It makes Mickey start to smile unconsciously. 

“You good now? Think you can go to sleep?” 

Liam considers this, and nods. 

“Good.” Mickey doesn't kiss him goodnight or anything, he just starts to get off the bed when Liam throws his tiny arms around his neck to hug him. 

“My Ickey,” he whispers. 

Mickey sighs, a smile emerging against his will. “Yeah, yeah,” he says, for once not at all annoyed like he should be. “Your Ickey.” 

[storiesbyjes2g]

3.195 Uncle Luca's day out

So, uhhh ... We have a closet now. After seeing Less', our empty wall was looking extra empty. Once I told Sophia what I saw, it was a wrap. She ordered that thing so fast, and it arrived way too early this morning, but here we are. It's funny how this room is smaller than the last one, yet we never had so much storage space before. Fewer windows have advantages, I suppose.

Rosie is barking outside our window. Our dogs are always barking, especially when she is playing, but what catches my ear this time is another voice. I look out the window and see Alessia playing with her! This house is doing a number on all of us, I see. I love that she's not only getting along with our dogs but also seeking them out. I've said it a million times, and I'll say it once more: we're going to be alright.

The other night, when me and Sophia looked school information after trying to prep Desiree, we learned the school system is on winter break right now, so we have loads more time with her! I was so glad and relieved to find this out. I mean, if she had to go to school, we'd send her, but I felt like we were all unprepared for this next phase of life. It came around so fast! Now we have the time to prepare, and we get to have more fun together. With school out, four kids, and two deserving mothers, I decide to take the kids out and let the moms rest. Also during the school information quest, I stumbled upon the high school's events page. They host many events that the public can attend, and tonight there's a football contest. That sounded like a good event for the kids, but it wasn't until 5 p.m., so I made an impromptu agenda to kill time. We began our adventure early with breakfast in Oasis Springs.

We go to the steak house me and Sophia frequent, but I don't recognize the host this time. She must be new, but man, does she have an attitude. She acted like me bringing four kids to a restaurant at 9 a.m. is a personal affront to her. Maybe it is early, or maybe I'm just too flabbergasted by her outburst, but I don't know how to respond. It's for the best because I probably wouldn't be nice because I feel the spirit of "I got time" rising up in me again, heh. I need to get into the gym and hit a bag because it is clear I want to fight someone. I blame Alessia's sperm donor, Jace. We got all hyped up about fighting him and never did. Maybe that urge never left me. Anyway...

The cook had just walked in on her berating me and shook his head at her. If this happens a lot, why don't they fire her? It can't be good for business.

"Come on, man," he said to me. "We've got plenty of tables, and I have to walk that way, anyway."

That was so nice of him. We followed him to a table, and I told ol' Nasty Nelly to have a good day so the kids could hear, heh. Sure, it was sarcasm, but hopefully they haven't learned that concept yet. With any luck, they'll learn to return nastiness with kindness.

When we get to the table, we have a quick family meeting. Because it's their first time in public, and I am the lone adult, we discuss inside voices, manners, and general public behavior, aka, this is not a playground, aka do not embarrass me, heh. Breanna and Arvin want to play in the rain, so I let them go as long as they are quiet. Desiree and Lex stay with me. She colors the placemat, and he plays quietly with a toy.

When the food came, I collect the other two from outside, and we have a fairly decent time together with minimal incidents...

I'm not naïve enough to think we could go all day without someone acting up. But what I did not anticipate was it would be my child I'd have to call out. She kept farting and laughing about it. I didn't realize she was the culprit until Breanna had enough and screamed at her.

I told her no one else thinks it's funny. We're eating, and no one wants to smell that with food in our mouths, and she should apologize to the table. Her remorseful face almost broke me, and I wondered if I was too harsh. I knew I wasn't because I didn't yell, but I just hate seeing her sad. I stayed strong, though.

After breakfast, we still have several more hours before the event, so I take them to Copperdale so we'd already be in town. I remembered a park down the street from the pier, so we go there first. The weather is not conducive to playing in the park. A thick blanket of snow covers the ground, and it's still falling on top of being extremely cold. I should cancel our plans and go back home because I don't want anyone getting sick. But the kids scatter before I can stop them. Desi says she has to pee and goes to the bathroom. Breanna makes a beeline for the monkey bars, reminding me so much of her mother. Arvin also goes to the bathroom, which leaves Lex with me again. He's such a cool little dude with a chill temperament, like me. I noticed his outfit earlier, and he seems to care about his appearance more than the other two.

Some older gentlemen are out taking a stroll for some reason and come over to talk about the weather. Lex doesn't seem to mind, but I want him to have fun too, so I excuse myself to have some snow fun with him. We have a snowpal building contest with Bre.

We win by default because Bre quit when she saw Desi and Arvin talking outside the bathrooms. We're still proud of our victory, though.

It seems a shame to come all the way to Copperdale and be a stone's throw of the pier and not ride the rides, so I check on the kids to see how they're doing with the weather. It stopped snowing, so the visibility is better, but it's still freezing. Children have an uncanny knack for being impervious to the weather, however, so they all said they're fine to stay out. I tell them about the haunted house ride, and they're all very excited about it. I figure we'd do that one over the Ferris wheel so we can get inside for a bit.

Although I know the cars only have two seats, I still wish we can all go together. I want to ride with Desi, but who would stay and watch the other kids while we ride? She wants to go with Arvin anyway, and Lex wants to go with me. Breanna is a boss just like her mom, and she doesn't want to sit with anyone. By the time we all take our turns, it's about 5:30, so we head to the high school.

On the way, I explain how this will be their school when they become teenagers. There're all kinds of activities they can get into, like the football team, which is what we'll be doing today, cheerleading, chess club, computer club, and so much more. Realizing they have no frame of reference for school, however, we walk around the classroom building to warm up and see what it's all about. This isn't my alma mater, but a school is a school. They're all basically the same.

Bre got upset about Desi farting again. Just as I begin to express disappointment, I remember something from her infancy. She was gassy a lot and constantly had hiccups. And she belched a lot when we burped her after feedings. Could something still be going on with her stomach? Am I telling her to stop being nasty while she can't actually help it? I didn't say anything that time and decide to talk to her about it in the privacy of our home.

[valkirycr]

This time, Val laughs louder even though she doesn't mean to make fun of Carol's vulnerability, but the way the question is posed makes the tension in her chest simply dissipate and she feels much lighter than she had previously; despite the costume that feels constricting now—when she wants to feel Carol's skin against her own. "It's not as if you cheated on your wife with me. That would have been awkward." A low chuckle, while her hand still lingered on the blonde's strong jawline. "And Monica is one cute, smart kid, it is not a wonder that you are her mom."

Then the kisses come and all the laughter is wiped off Val's lips, her mind focused entirely of how soft Carol's lips are against her own. They have done a fair share of kissing tonight, but the brunette does not feel like it would ever be... enough. Aware of her own chocolate breath, she chuckles.

"That is classified information, and between Monica and me. None of your business." She jokes, loving the way Carol's face lights up whenever they talk about her daughter. Rightfully so, for if Val were in her shoes, she would not stop talking about her either. Yet, she understands the secretive way she omitted her from the previous conversations earlier that night; mentioning baggage of any kind on a first date would get awkward, quickly. There are no grudges held for her silence whatsoever, and Val is simply happy to be here with her tonight.

Their hands are, naturally, clasped together when they get off the couch, and all thoughts of the previous event disappear the moment Val finds herself in Carol's bedroom. Even though she does not know her as well as she'd like, the entire room feels exactly like her, from the sheets on the bed and curtains on the windows; and the little blanket for the cat sitting at the edge of the mattress. It makes Val's heart ache once more; and she does not allow herself to think what it would look like if they both lived here... together.

Luckily, distraction comes in the form of a well-equipped closet and Val spends her time trailing her fingers over different sets of fabric; not because she's particularly picky, but because this is yet another part of Carol's personality that she has yet to uncover. Band tees are aplenty, and Val makes a mental note to ask her what her favorite artist is a while later (aside from Britney Spears, she supposes); but one gray set of pajamas catches her attention, both in looks and the feel under her fingers.

Upon further inspection she realizes it's a top part only, but she does not object; as she pulls a set of Adidas joggers to match next. Happy with her choice, she's eager to ask Carol if she could peruse her shower to cool down; and once she comes out of the bathroom, she finds the blonde lounging on the bed and her stomach flips.

Her own hair is out of the braid now too, falling curly just past her shoulders; and her face is completely make-up free— a look that not many strangers are privy to, not even the casual hookups she's had over the last several years. And here she is, completely bare in front of Carol, wearing her clothes and smelling like her soap, and Val tries hard not to think about how at home she feels.

Coming to the edge of the bed where Carol is sitting, Val slots herself between her legs and rests hands on top of her shoulders. "Thank you, for letting me stay." She murmurs, cupping the soft face with both her hands and meeting her lips in a soft kiss. "I do have to ask— are you a cuddler, or more of a sleep-on-the-edge kind of a gal?"

Not that she wants to sleep; not yet. All she can think about is moving on top of Carol and kissing her until they both tire or consume each other whole. "I'm a fan the physical touch myself." She is then realizing that she had just asked another question when Carol had let her know that she had other things in mind— not involving asking or answering any questions that would mean skirting around the fact that they were alone once more, with no other distractions in sight. To save face, Val pulls her knees upwards until she is straddling the other on top of the bed, giving her another kiss. "Better." She murmurs, letting a hand down to trail down Carol's spine. Safe. Comfortable.

She couldn’t help but wonder just what water they had to drink in Oslo that would produce someone like the woman she’d met that day, someone that she didn’t even know twenty-four hours ago and now wasn’t sure if she could ever go another twenty-four hours without. Or was crazy, wasn’t it? Thoughts like that? The actual feeling of not being able to exist without the stranger on her couch. There was no doubt that feeling rumbling low in her chest sailed right past stupid and straight to crazy, but Carol couldn’t stop it once it started and glancing at the ceiling did little to offer her reprieve from it.

“Is it? Mutual? Even after you found out about my whole secret family?” She was mid-soft chuckle, relishing in her own amusement of the messed up situation that just happened, when a warm hand came to rest on her cheek and the laughter suddenly died on her lips. The blonde allowed her gaze to be diverted back to Val and wondered why she ever bothers to look away from the woman in the first place.

There was so much beauty in the dark brown hues of the other, so much resting deep down that she hadn’t even touched the surface of learning yet, something she ached to do in the few hours they had left together. It wasn’t enough time, there was no denying that, and she was torn between spending it talking or spending it with her lips pressed against the other’s and bodies tangled so tight that maybe it would be impossible for Val to leave at all. Could she make both happen? She wasn’t sure about it, but she was sure she was desperate for every little bit of the woman the other was willing to give. “How much chocolate did you have?” Carol finally narrowed her eyes suspiciously after the second kiss, catching Val before she pulled away fully for one last kiss (for the moment) and humming against the definite chocolate taste on the other’s lips. “She’ll give you diabetes if you let her… it why we have to hide the Reese’s.”

It all felt normal. Too normal. Sitting on her couch, lips on the other’s, referencing Monica as though they’d both known her forever. With the way Val had been entertaining the young girl, it seemed like she had. It was all… somehow perfect. In the back of her mind there lingered a reminder that Val was a fancy diplomat for whole other country and Carol had a life here… there was no way to even attempt to make anything past that night work. But, it’s why those thoughts remained in the back of her mind, at least for that night. There was no sense thinking about what couldn’t happen, when she had a night full of things that could happen at her fingertips.

“Come on, I’ve been waiting all day to get you out of that wildly inconvenient costume,” Carol teased as she finally pulled herself away from the other and the comfort of the couch to lead the woman to another part of her home she hadn’t seen yet — the bedroom. The blonde directed her to a closet off to the side of the room with instructions to pick whatever she’d feel most comfortable in and stripped herself of her own costume in favor of the oversized tee she swapped it out for, the comfort of the material helping the tension from the events that evening disappear from her shoulders. Goose was already curled in a discarded throw blanket at the bottom of the bed fast asleep and Carol made herself comfortable nearby as she waited for Val finish changing.

[greyedian]

MAN I'm seriously so sad about season 2. Bc I wish act 2 had the same emotional impact on me as it appears to have on so many others. But rn I'm just somewhere between unable to care and actively annoyed by some of those writing decisions. Seriously the more I think about it the less I like it.

[tamagotchikgs]

literally all i remember of being at the mall was feeling dizzy (i almost always get sick at the mall the stress of being seen and the mirrors and being rushed around by my sister especially gets to me) and looking at all the clothes n thinking im too autistic 4 this shit LMAO because all the textures were so bad why does everything fancy have that awful texture that scratchy feeling that clings onto u and all ur lil bits of skin

[courfeyracs-swordcane]

You are a seventeen year old lesbian. You ran away from home and are lying about every aspect of yourself in order to work your way up the ranks of the war crime factory, and it’s working— you got promoted to work directly under the citystate governor as personal security for him and his family. And now you have a crush on his wife. (would that be fucked up or what?)

[1hyunjae]

[keeps-ache]

buttered noodles 💫💛🍜

[killjoy-prince]

Ray's After Ending is so funny because for a good chunk of it, most of the RFA members are knocked out by V's sleeping gas (Saeran is immune, Saeyoung isn't present bc he was kidnapped by his agency under his father's orders and MC wakes up in like an hour) but the game has a call feature where you can call the characters and it would be a waste if you couldn't use it bc the characters were unavailable so instead they have other people pick up the call (Jumin's driver picks up Jumin's phone, Jumin's father picks up Zen's phone, Yoosung's friends and mom pick up Yoosung's phone and Jaehee's coworkers pick up Jaehee's phone) and we do get to learn about the characters from outsider's point of view but it's so funny to me that these people are visiting their loved ones and suddenly the phone rings and they decide to just. answer it. and start talking to this stranger they've never met

[sudokuplayer]

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[arolesbianism]

I’ve been having a rough few days, but I’ve been feeling a bit better so I decided to make some lil thingies for some spiraling upwards kitties :3

[drev-the-procrastinator]

love waking up to my mom giving me an ultimatum and ordering that i have to give up my (admittedly expensive) apartment 1n 2 weeks and move back home for good. i had stuff to do today but i guess being gripped by dread and anxiety works too

[soubiapologist]

i don't expect any of you to understand the reference but alice cooper. from riverdale. is a little like if a loveless character was really really really fucking funny

[bylertruther]

the brainrot is so bad that i'm sitting here trying to watch the godfather just thinking to myself "damn..... how can i make a byIer au outta dis... 🤔📝"