#or argue with me whichever feels more right to you

[soupy-girl]

i'm bored so here's a non-comprehensive list of smosh members i think would have been good duos had they been cast members at the same time

arasha/lasercorn

kimmy/trevor

ify/mari

jackie/boze

joven/spencer

boze/kimmy

arasha/saige

sohinki/amanda

ify/chanse

angela/mari

joven/trevor

lasercorn/angela

tommy/sohinki

[songmingisthighs]

My, My, Mine

group : ateez

pairing : jealous, dom!san × reader

genre : smut, pwp, requested

wc : 3.6 k

warning : mdni, possessive!san, mentions of patriarchal upbringing, san trying to exert his dominance in the relationship, san calling mc basically slutty or a hoe but not in those words, drunken sex (so maybe kinda dubcon-ish ??? is it ??), explicit sex (bondage, denied orgasm, sadism ?? idk man, san being a meanie, mc being whiny despite g0rl power, slight dacryphilia ?? big man likes whiny crybabies, multiple orgasm, degradation, filming while having sex (you've been warned), creampie, and more idk i can't list all of them but if you think i should list more as like warning, please lmk !)

a/n : idt i've written any san smut (other than the debauchery that was ignominy) so I'm excited for this request ! i had this in my wip for quite a while and I'm FINALLY finishing it !!!

a/a/n : sorry this took a while, I had to get in the right mood for this lmaooooo hope you enjoy it !

a/a/a/n : ALSO HAPPY SANI DAY !!!

buy me coffee ?

It hadn't been that long since you and San started dating and it was quite the adjustment.

On one hand, you loved him dearly, he and all of his adorable quirks. But San, as he was raised quite conservatively by a strong, patriarchal figure, had managed to show some of the traits. Sure, you could get used to having things paid for you despite it making you feel like a burden, but having to argue with San in public when he insisted that he should be the one carrying all of your things or even waiting for you at your office's lobby when he's available so he'd be able to accompany you home was not something you like. So you both adjusted. Or tried to.

You didn't realize the extent of his views until you went to a girls' night.

During the whole time, San kept texting you about your whereabouts, reminding you not to drink too much. You'd answer once or twice but for every answer you gave, he sent five more texts and it was getting rather annoying. You realized he meant well but the way he was doing it was making it seem like he thought you were an incapable idiot who was going to need him, your knight in shining armour, to rescue you from the bad bad men of this world. You had gone through life just fine without him before and you were not some dumbass.

The realization that the alcohol in your system was stirring your emotions should have been enough to get you to sober up especially knowing that San was staying over to take care of you (a compromise you begrudgingly accepted). But your friends were egging you on and you knew that you didn't want to face San without some liquid courage. It was high time you took him down a peg. Or peg him down. Whichever comes first.

"Honey, I'm home," you slurred, giggling when you got through your front door and started taking off your shoes.

There were shuffles and soon San's voice rang through your ears. "Baby! I missed you! Where-" the words died in San's mouth when he saw the state you were in, or more specifically, the clothes you were wearing. "What the hell?" he asked, standing at a distance looking at you with disbelief in his eyes that you couldn't notice because you were too intoxicated to be aware of your surroundings. "Sannie," You giggled, stumbling to your boyfriend after you shrugged off your coat to the floor to ask for a hug. San still accepted your hug but he was oddly quiet, his eyes hard, and his fists were balled around your waist.

"I'm home now, Sannie!" you were still giggling as you started peppering San's face with kisses. It was then that San smelled the heavy alcohol in your breath which made him cringe and push you back slightly, "What in God's name have you been doing?" Then his eyes travelled down to your clothes, "And what is with this outfit?"

You immediately recognized the tone that he was using on you and you couldn't help but roll your eyes at him, "I told you I was going to a girls' night at the club and obviously this outfit is amazing because the bartender gave me 2 free shots!" you excitedly said. San reeled back and crossed his arms on his chest, "You mean to tell me you flirted for free drinks?" it took you a moment to answer but you shook your head, "Didn't have to flirt, he saw me in this outfit and he just showed his appreciation. It was no big deal," you shrugged and you tried pushing past him but he easily stopped you by blocking your path. "(y/n), I have to tell you I'm not comfortable with this. It kind of seems like you were selling your dignity so cheaply. As your boyfriend-" "Whoah, go back to you accusing me of being a hoe," you cut him off. San's eyebrows furrowed and he immediately defended himself, "I didn't call you a hoe, I'm just stating that I am not okay with my girlfriend wearing something so short, skimpy, and revealing just so she wouldn't have to pay for her drinks!" he stated.

Truthfully, San didn't have much problem with how you dress. He actually thought that you looked absolutely hot. Hell, he bought you the damn dress when he thought that you were going to wear it when you go out with him. He trusted you completely but what he couldn't trust were the rest 99% of the population who might do something bad to you when you're intoxicated in clothes that for lack of a better word, provided a lot of access. Something bad like what he wanted to do to you when he first saw that dress which was to rip your panties in two, fuck you in the dressing room, stuff you full of cum, and make you keep them safe until you both went home so he can eat the cum out of you.

Had you been sober, you could've agreed with the part about your dress being short, skimpy, and revealing because you had spent the better part of the night trying to not bend down and making sure that when you were dancing, you were shielded by your girlfriends. But the implication still didn't sit right with you and the fact that San was using the boyfriend card ticked you off.

"You're my boyfriend San, not my owner or my master. I'm still my own person and had I flashed a tit or two to get free shit, I should be able to! I get to decide what I get and what I don't get," you huffed and tried pushing past him.

Your steps halted when San shot his hand out and placed it on your chest, his fingers rigid on your collarbones and when you looked into his eyes, there was a glint of darkness and lust that made you shudder.

"Is that how it is, little Miss Independent? You really think you're in charge of whatever you get, big girl?" he smirked, voice lowering down and it was then did you realize, even through your drunken haze, that you were fucked. Or going to be. Hard.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

All hopes of your friend borrowing your dress were shattered and you had to break the news to her because right now, that dress was being used to tie your hands together behind your back while San had you on top of him, connecting his face with your pussy as he did his best to draw your third orgasm.

"Aww look at you," San chuckled darkly against your pussy, "Big girl can't handle two orgasms in a row?" The spank he delivered on your ass made your knees slip and allowed your whole weight to fall on San who happily accepted being suffocated by your sweet cunt. "S-San," you whimpered, trying to relieve the overstimulation by lifting your hips only to receive a guttural growl from below as his strong arms snaked around your thighs to ensure that you wouldn't be able to escape him. "San, please stop, it's too much" you whimpered while still trying to get out of his grip. Your senses had returned after the first orgasm when San managed to flush the alcohol out of you somehow only for it to be thrown back into a haze when he was working on your second.

Tired of your whining, San flipped you both over and allowed you a moment to breathe. Although it was hard what with the way your cunt was still throbbing and your heart still beating wildly in your chest. Despite his annoyance, San found your sprawled figure to be very delectable what with your flushed and warm skin, rising chest, and pussy glistening with sweat, spit, and arousal, making it seem like it was inviting him in again.

San grabbed your legs and pried them open, allowing him to glare at your pulsing entrance with eyes clouded in desire. "I thought big, independent girls wouldn't have to whine and beg like needy little bitches? Where's the confidence you used to get free drinks from cheap losers?" you somehow managed to lift your head to look at San who had his eyes now locked on yours as he leaned down close to your aching core, "Where's the confidence you used to allow people to think you're not spoken for?" Your back was arched and your jaw unhinged when San licked a fat, long stripe from your peritoneum up to your clit at an agonizingly slow speed. It was as if he wanted you to feel every single bit of movement he made that effectively drove your mind into overdrive. You felt your legs start to shake when he plunged three fingers into your leaking hole after spitting on your cunt, hitting your sensitive clit that he used as a bullseye.

The smug look on his face as he watch you writhe from overstimulation shouldn't turn you on so much but the way you physically reacted betrayed you completely as it chased for more of San, whatever he was willing to give you.

"You're a jerk," you whimpered through teary eyes. Though your voice was getting hoarse from the night out which was followed by him overstimulating you to high heavens, San could hear you loud and clear. "I thought you like getting attention?" San scoffed, pausing to him slapping you harshly on your cunt which caused your body to jolt at the impact, "That's why you were dressed like that, right? I'm just being a supportive boyfriend and helping you practice." The insinuation pissed you off and despite your struggling, you tried to get yourself up and away from him (and failing rather miserably), "I dressed like that for myself you possessive jerk," "Oh, so the lack of panties was what, for health?" When you couldn't answer him, he knew he got you dead on and being proud of himself, he smirked and pulled himself off of you and the bed. The sudden void he left caused you to almost whine out loud, brain forgetting that you were somewhat mad at him.

San came back to the bed completely naked and holding your phone. Immediately, he positioned you flat on your back and his thick thighs pushed onto your own firmly so you were basically folded. Your breath hitched when you felt his cock resting against your sensitive cunt a bit too casually. The skin-on-skin contact allowed you to feel how hot it felt and the way it pleasured you when it rubbed against you every time San made even the slightest movement. "You can say whatever you want and I'll do whatever I want. Seems fair, doesn't it?" Your heart beat quicker and harder in your chest simply from the way he hinted at his plan. "What are you going to do?" You asked, swallowing the nervous lump in your throat. San only raised a cocky eyebrow, not even bothering to answer you properly and just simply tapping away on your phone. You had even considered that he might have contacted one of your friends or worse, call them before he fucked you.

But San didn't give you enough time to overthink because, in a moment's time, San flipped your phone sideways, pressed a button, and started pushing inside you. Your eyes watered again from the stretch and even though you were well-lubricated thanks to San's torture on your cunt earlier and also his spit, his size didn't make things easier for you. His cock glided smoothly but your muscles tensed up from the sudden intrusion, slowing his pace a bit and restricting him from being too rough. "Look at Miss Independence breaking down over her boyfriend's cock like a common whore," he chuckled darkly, relishing in the way you whimpered his name and your body arching in pleasure at the feeling of him, "Come on baby, show the camera how you're in charge of everything you get or don't get," he mocked. You were sure that your tears were not just from being overstimulated but also from the humiliation. You were a proud woman who could confidently say that you have never let a man use you even if he tried. But there you were on your back, hands tied, and mind fuzzy, hyper-aware of the way your body just submitted to San's every whim, betraying your better judgment that was still screaming for you to push him off and make him get a taste of his own medicine. But of course, your body was as stubborn as your mind as it refused to go against San.

"San, put away the camera," you whined, turning away from the camera only to have San grab your cheeks in one free hand and force you to look back at him. "Why should I? If you want me to stop, then do it yourself. Take the camera away from me," he smirked as he adjusted his knees so he could start rolling his hips into yours, creating a steady rhythm.

From the screen, he could see the way you glared at him as his words, knowing full well that although he had challenged you to do something you could absolutely not do anything due to the fact that your hands were bound behind your back. Had it been any other circumstance, San would tell you how turned on he was with you at that moment. The way tears made your eyes seem like they were glittering, the way your cheeks were puffed and flushed from frustration, and the way your body was opened up for him to use. The fire between you two was one of the things that San loved.

"Come on, (y/n), show the camera what you can do," he egged, thrusting harshly into you which elicited a high-pitched squeal from your lips. "Fuck you," you whimpered but you did as he told as you began fucking yourself back and instead of matching his pace, you fucked yourself on his cock quicker, convincing yourself that it was, in a way, you taking charge over him. Though, the satisfied look on San's face, paired with the way he licked his bottom lip as he pointed the camera to where you two were connected, proved you otherwise. "I can get fucked if I want to, I control what I get," you stated albeit slightly unconvincingly as your quivering bottom lip served as a dead giveaway. "Of course you do," San cooed mockingly before his free hand dropped to between your legs to spread your pussy lips apart, allowing the camera to capture the way your cunt was swallowing him so greedily.

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes when he saw your cunt pulsing and his head was running wild with filthy ideas. "Baby, I wanna breed you so bad so people would know who you belong to," Your breath hitched when his handsome face contorted into a chesire-like grin and your so-called control was stolen as quickly as you got it. "You're not gonna do shit to me San, I mean it," at this point, your defiance was more like a facade because you wanted what he was offering but your pride wanted to twist it around. San moved his hips quickly, greedily taking all of the pleasure he could get out of you. "Fuck, my big girl is gonna get creamed," he chuckled darkly, fucking you as he tried to keep the camera still to capture everything, particularly the way your cunt leaked so much arousal that his own crotch was wet with the transferred slick.

Your body was being used so well that your limbs (the free ones at least, which were your legs) were flailing about slightly. "Stupid little baby wants to have control when she can't even control her legs, she's fucked so stupid," he teased as you whined in protest, wanting to prove him wrong. So despite the weakness in your legs from the ministrations, you shifted your body around so that you were on your side and your legs were crossed over the other. The new position trapped San's cock inside you and the sensation of his cock being trapped halted his movements mid-way and his eyes rolled into the back of his head as a guttural groan echoed in your ears. You took his response as a mini triumph. "Fuck, you got tighter," he shuddered, body shaking as he took a shaky breath, "Were you trying to snap my dick off?" You feigned innocence as you began rocking your hips again, "Maybe yes, maybe no. Maybe if I snap your dick off it'll become mine," you smirked. "You conniving slut."

No longer caring about the camera, San tossed your phone to the side and started pounding into you in a pace that was animalistic. "F-fuck- Aah! San!" you squealed when he planted his left foot firmly on the bed and pounded harder as if he was trying to destroy your insides.

"Say you won't go out dressed like that again," he demanded, face planted on your chest as his abuse of your cunt continued. He began nipping, kissing, biting, and licking all over the skin of your breast and it almost succeeded in clouding your mind into absolute submission due to pleasure. But you managed to firmly shook your head, "I'll wear whatever the fuck I want, I'll do whatever I want!" you answered between harsh pants and heavy breathing.

You heard San click his tongue before he ripped himself off of you in a flash, leaving you on the edge of orgasm and cold. "What the fuck!?" you whined, instinctively trying to get up to chase after San but your bound hands prevented you from moving easily.

San tilted his head and mockingly pouted, "If you can do whatever you want then so can I, baby." Your eyes zeroed in on his hand that jacked his hard, leaking cock and you knew well enough that it wouldn't take him much to cum at that point. Despite his treatment towards you, you wanted his cum, you wanted his cum inside you. "San, you get back here and fuck me!" you scream-whined, desperate to find release.

Hearing your demand, San went back onto the bed and got closer to you. For a moment, you thought San was going back to fucking you but he simply slapped his cock on your face, taunting you. "You want me to fuck you now? I thought you were in charge of yourself," he smirked, rubbing the tip of his cock on your skin, leaving a trail of precum mixed with what was left of your arousal. You held yourself back from using your mouth to chase his cock but your sexual frustration was at its peak and it was at that moment that your resolve broke and you whined. "Sannie, please fuck me, make me cum and then breed me so other guys won't even get close to me, please, please."

That seemed to satisfy San because his next move was to finally release your hands from the hold of the makeshift handcuffs and flip you over so you were on top of him. The pooling slick allowed him to slip inside you rather easily and once he was buried inside, you let out a gasp. "Ride me," San demanded, eyes fixated on you and hands on your hips firmly. San's words barely concluded before you started fucking yourself on his cock, letting out all the frustration both sexual and emotional from the whole bullshit. You anchored yourself on San's broad chest and used him to chase your own release.

"Yeah baby, do it, fuck yourself on me. Use my cock like the big girl that you are," San goaded, smirking and panting from the feeling of your cunt hugging his cock so tightly. "T-told you I'm i-in charge," you panted, throwing your head back as the pleasure ran through your body like electric shocks, making you tingly all over. "Sure you are, baby," San groaned when he felt his release coming.

With one swift swivel of your hips, your body tensed, legs clamped and your orgasm broke like a wave crashing. "Fuck!" you squealed, a couple of tears fell down your face as your body fell backwards without detaching your core from San. Seeing you in your own state of ecstasy, San sat up and shuffled around so he could have his chance chasing his high with you. You were in such a state of blissful release and satisfaction that when San started to overstimulate you once again with his cock, all you could do was groan and turn, trying to get away from him half-heartedly. "I'm cumming inside you, okay? I'm gonna paint you with my seed," San panted into your ear as his lips nipped at the skin, causing the area to tingle and you to whimper as you nodded weakly.

It didn't take long for San to cum inside you, fulfilling his previous promise. He let out a low, breathy moan that got your cunt clenching as he rode his release, making sure that his cum was not wasted and was kept inside you.

Neither of you spoke as you tried catching your breaths, still trying to cool down from the rigorous activity and for you specifically, your mind too far gone to recover so quickly. San momentarily peeked at the edge of the bed, particularly at your ruined dress and couldn't help but smirk, thinking that at least he had one problem done.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet

permalist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread

[pastafossa]

DDBA THOUGHTS, FIRST TWO EPS.

It's been roughly 90 minutes and I am still processing, jesus fucking christ.

Set behind a cut due to spoilers but my thoughts are pretty positive, even if that shit ran my heart over like a dump truck. Below you will find:

My frantic reaction thoughts I wrote down during or immediately after (character dissections will be marked)

My overall thoughts on the first 2 eps as a whole

Dissection of Matt and where I think he's at currently in this headspace

Yes that's right, I'm using the sad gif. Spoilers ahead. Feel free to skip down to whichever part you like!

I will have more thoughts tomorrow but I am still feeling fucking weird because I'm trying to process both the new series events and the fact that Our Man is back after 6 years in show format and I feel like someone who's gone from starving to suddenly full of food and my body is CONFUSED

The mood whiplash in the first 15 mins going from, yup we're all happy, to absolute fucking building dread and then horrified agony was, I won't lie, well done. You made me want to vomit, thanks writers.

Spent the whole fight with Bullseye just sobbing and whispering, 'oh no, oh no, oh Foggy, baby, no, Matt, no-', pretty sure some part of me inside is stiiiiiiiiill sobbing, it will always be sobbing, gonna relive that for days 😭

Matt crying on the rooftop? Him being so fucking distraught that all he could do was lean on Dex even though Dex was the killer? Just fucking gut me. Worst we've ever seen him, bar none.

DISSECTION MOMENT: He pushes Dex over the edge. I'd wondered if he'd try to kill Dex, with that being his, 'A Line Was Crossed', and tbh I think if any canon death could make Matt kill, it would be Foggy's. And he certainly tried. Matt's always walked such a fine line when it comes to murder, and he's come VERY close before, usually only dodging it because the baddie gets lucky or we can squint and say they did it to themselves. Welp, here we are again, and this time I think the only reason Dex is alive is because of all that technology we saw them packing into Dex at the end of S3. To Matt? To Matt, he killed. That Dex technically lived is a coincidence. Matt tried to break his rule. He tried.

Yes I am still parked in Denial Hill wondering if Foggy will come around somehow, I need some time to organize my thoughts, but even if he's dead dead, I'm going to wait and see if they pull an Elektra and find some way to revive him.

DISSECTION MOMENT: Matt's new apartment (RIP our beloved old loft cause someone's living there now from what I understand) is nice but something I noticed is it's... a little colder. And I think that's intentional. Matt's old apartment was rougher around the edges, warmer, and I'd argue a little more symbolic both of the Kitchen and who he was each night on the streets. Half the reason he chose that old apartment was the roof access. This new apartment is for a Matt who's trying very hard to be done with Daredevil and live life only as Matt. He's locked away from the streets with no easy way to go running, he's situated high and cool and distant, with all those floors to slow him down if he gets impulsive.

Matt just disassociating his way through his breakfast and morning coffee, yup he's totally fine, definitely not trying to block out all those screams.

DISSECTION MOMENT: EXCUSE ME, CARRYING AROUND FOGGY'S MEMORIAL CARD. 😭 Personal theory is he's not just carrying it to have a little of Foggy with him, but because he's trying to remind himself why he's not being Daredevil anymore since he thinks that doing that got Foggy killed.

Queenpin, good for her.

Really liked the touch of Matt cooking in the dark because he doesn't need light. And I liked the addition of the neon lighting flashing in his windows, a good callout to his old apartment.

I'm also digging both Kirsten and Heather, esp Heather who we get more of. There's chemistry there, and she rolls with Matt pretty well. I'm very interested to see how she handles the Shenanigans TM that I'm sure he'll get up to later. I'd love if he could have a healthy canon relationship for once but this is also matt soooo. And that KISS, damn, when is it my turn

THE DINER SCENE WAS EVERYTHING I NEEDED, THESE TWO ARE SO FUCKING PERFECT IN EVERY SCENE YOU HAVE THEM IN TOGETHER, GD

DISSECTION MOMENT: No but I really do think this is something that would keep Matt out of Hell's Kitchen for a bit as he struggles with his identity, his trauma, his fear, and with the 'costs' of what he does. All that work and he feels like he failed. He couldn't save the one person that mattered most to him. On top of that? He crossed his line. He tried to kill someone and would have succeeded if Dex hadn't been built different. All of that trauma around what happened... yeah I could see him trying to hang the cowl up and move to a new neighborhood in hopes that he'd be able to escape. And he is trying to escape. He's pushing all that down, pushing and pushing and I'm Fine-ing like he has with every previous death in his life, holding up like a good Catholic boy, but the cracks are showing. He's a powder keg.

YET MORE DISSECTION: And holy fucking shit when he blows up does he go. That fight at the end of the 2nd Episode had me feral. Definition of FAFO. I know I've seen some mixed opinions on the opening fight, but that fight at the end of ep 2 is exactly what I wanted, that was perfect. Him begging them to stop because he's trying not to do this, trying not to fight, he's afraid of what he'll do if it gets out, but the second that blood droplet hit the floor (LOVED that shot), you knew that was it, ding ding, Round One. I loved how vicious that fight was, I need to rewatch it 10 TIMES.

That final scream. What's that Matt? You're saying you're not fine? You're not handling this well? Whoever could have predicted that you mashing all that grief and rage down would come out like that, not me it was me though i predicted that.

Intrigued by that Punisher tattoo the dirty cop had on him.

OH MY GOD SHE'S THEIR MARITAL COUNSELOR, GOOD FUCKING LUUUUUCK

Man, Karen just fucking skedaddled and I'm wondering if this isn't because she's going to spiral out in CA like she does in the comics so she comes back having also gone through it (I realize it was because, in reality, they had to explain why she wasn't there because otherwise they'd have to rewrite and reshoot everything, but we're talking in universe here). Karen also has a tendency to run, much like she tries to do in S3. We know she'll be back though.

MY THOUGHTS OVERALL:

So.

(puts hands together and breathes because this was a lot and I'm still processing both the return of our man after 6 years and the show events themselves)

So.

So.

I'm obviously gutted over Foggy, I'll be crying over that for a bit even if I still have a lil hope, and am willing to just fix it in fanfic otherwise. But... I liked this. A lot. It's not exactly the Netflix show, which I'll always be nostalgic for, but quite frankly it was never going to be that show - too much time has passed, and batons have changed hands in terms of writing, directing, cinematography, etc. I'm ok with this being a little different. I'm ok with there being some small humps to get over, cause god knows S2 had its issues too (I love you, OG DD, but it's true). I'm really really optimistic about this.

I do think you can also see some slight tonal shifts between stuff that was salvaged from the original writing arc, and what Scardapane has added in during reshoots. And those moments Scardapane's got control are the best, even if I think they've done pretty damn good during the rest of it considering all the shakeups during production. I'm going to be very interested to see what happens in S2 where you've got a singular creator with consistent control, and I'm very excited for the final two episodes of S1 which are both all under Scardapane's hand. The best part is Matt is still Matt. The dialogue, what he's trying to do, even him pulling a, "that part of my life is over" is very him. His resistance to becoming DD again (though as my dad snorted when we were watching and Matt told Fisk that part of his life was over, 'HA! Horseshit.' Cue dad's smug 'HA! Told you.' During the ep 2 fight) feels... like a natural progression, and Charlie's playing it well.

MY THOUGHTS ON MATT, PLEASE STAND BY FOR ULTIMATE DISSECTION.

Oh boy. Oh boy. As predicted, our man is going through it and you can see it (God bless you Charlie, you're as wonderful an actor as ever). He's convinced, of course, that he's doing ok. He's holding down a good job, he's got a new apartment, he's managing to ignore the screams at night even if he has to drown it out with music and live up so high to try to muffle it, he's not laying in bed like a lump, he's not going out to fight, whatever you do, don't go out there, if I go I'll slip again. But this isn't a man who's ok. This is a man who's terrified and wracked with guilt because not only did his life as Daredevil (in his mind) lead to his best friend's death, but he broke his rule. He made the kill move, gave into his grief and his rage, and it was only through luck that Dex lived. It would only eat at him more that it was over Foggy, one of the people who regularly encouraged Matt to hold back from taking that final step. Matt knows Foggy wouldn't have wanted that for Matt.

He was warned that one day he'd kill someone. And he tried to do it.

Giving up Daredevil is what Foggy would have wanted. I have no doubt he's telling himself that.

But you can only cut away part of yourself for so long before it finds a way out. Matt will never be able to resist going to help those who need it. He'll never be able to fully turn away, and he enjoys those fights.

That's where that scream comes from at the end of Ep 2. He has done everything he's supposed to. He's given it all up, he's moved, he's focused on the law only, and he even fucking begged them to leave him be. He let them beat him and beat him and beat him, and still he didn't raise a hand.

Not until that gun came out.

And he snapped.

Everything done right, and still he finds his way here again, with blood on his fists and his adrenaline up and, I'm sure, no small bit of guilty enjoyment over suddenly being back in a fight that he won.

Our man is not ok, and I think he's going to realize that going forward.

This IS our man. There's some frayed edges here - there usually are in pilots, in shows that had this many production issues. But there is so, so much good here too to build on and I'm eager to see where Charlie and them take it even if it winds up crushing my heart a bit more in the process.

[lil-dragon-rawr]

FNaF x DC: the Aftons vs the Gotham Rogue Gallery

(a continuation of this post)

Part Three is now available :D (the brainrot has taken over)

Red Hood: hey, kids have been going missing lately. I haven't been able to find who dunnit yet so be sure to keep Gregory out of the streets

Michael: kids. Going missing?

Michael, thinking: this sounds like a job for a pyromaniac night guard!

Red Hood, finally tracking down the Dollmaker's lair: uhh hi Mike, whatcha doin?

Michael "Constantly Atoning For the Sins of His Past" Afton, messing with the wiring of the building while a group of missing kids huddle around him: making sure that freak goes up in flames

Red Hood: ...cool, want some C4 to go with that?

Michael:

Red Hood:

Michael, realizing there's a more efficient way to do this: you have C4?

Kiteman: *exists, minding his own business, enjoying a scenic flight over the park*

Gregory, dragging a wagon full of God knows what to the nearest roof: hey Freddy look away for a minute, okay?

Glamrock Freddy: Gregory, I cannot help but feel you are about to do something incredibly suspicious, if not outright illegal.

Gregory:

Glamrock Freddy:

Glamrock Freddy: I will remove power to my eyes for one minute.

Gregory: :)

(forty-five seconds later)

Kiteman: *screams, falls from the sky, crashes through a food cart on his way down*

Glamrock Freddy: ...Gregory, what did you do?

Gregory:

Gregory: so you know the saying two birds, one stone?

Glamrock Freddy:

Gregory:

Glamrock Freddy:

Gregory: ...I got you a wingsuit!

Glamrock Freddy, disappointed: Gregory.

Nightwing and Scrap Baby: *still arguing over clown etiquette*

Joker, thinking that Nightwing is distracted and that this is a good opportunity to pull a "shenanigan": hrnngnn hello Gotham citizens! I planted Joker venom in a school and a hospital! Whichever place evacuates first gets the other place gassed hehaugha!

Scrap Baby, staring at the Joker in a way that can only be described as judgemental:

Nightwing, breaking off his rant to also stare at the Joker:

Scrap Baby:

Nightwing:

Scrap Baby: so we can both agree that that's not a clown, right?

Nightwing, pulling out his escrima sticks: oh, absolutely

Red Hood, explaining how he died to Michael: -and that's why I hate clowns.

Michael: yikes

Michael, trying to figure out what kind of ghost/undead Red Hood is: do you want...revenge?

Red Hood: well yeah but B's super stingy about how many guys I can off per year

Michael: ...do you have to kill the clown for your revenge to be satiated?

Red Hood:

Red Hood: ...no

Michael: cool :)

Michael, checking his FazWatch as he waits outside the gates of Arkham: hm, this is taking longer than I thought

Red Robin: heyyy Mike whatcha doin out here

Michael: waiting on my brother and his friend :)

Batman, Concerned™: Michael, did you send Gregory into Arkham?

Michael: no of course not, I would never be so irresponsible!

Batman and Red Robin, thinking the situation isn't that bad: *breathing a sigh of relief*

Michael: Do you know how much physical and psychological damage he'd cause?

Batman and Red Robin: ...

Michael, not reading the room: maybe I should send him in there. For enrichment, if nothing else

Red Robin, putting pieces together: wait, what's Golden Freddy doing in Arkham?? Isn't it just an empty suit???

Batman, thinking: please don't make me explain this to Gordon. Please don't make me explain this to Gordon.

Michael: oh he's there for revenge! :D

Batman:

Batman: *deep, deep sigh*

Batman: explain.

Michael: well, there are different types of ghosts, right?

Michael: you met the Puppet, she's a protector

Michael: and I'm a mix of atonement and protection

Michael: but my brother's friend is a vengeful spirit!

Michael: ...and she kind of maybe imprinted on Red Hood pleasedon'tbemad

Batman: *very long sigh*

Batman: if anyone's dead, it's your fault.

Michael, knowing it'll only be the Joker: ...I can live with that

Golden Freddy: *appears* ITSME

Red Robin: *jumps four feet in the air*

Michael: well you sure decided to take your time!

Golden Freddy:

Michael: yeah yeah whatever

Michael: did you have fun?

Golden Freddy: :)

Gordon: so the Joker's dead because...?

Batman: ...it's complicated.

Gordon, eyeing him suspiciously: not that I'm complaining about the Joker being dead but whoever did it must've been an expert, they got in and out without being seen and distorted the cameras while they were in his cell

Batman, knowing it was a child:

Mr. Freeze, cornering Michael: tell me the secret to eternal life!

Michael: heh???

Mr. Freeze: you have discovered a way to live forever, now share it with me so I can save my wife!

Michael:

Michael: okay well first off I didn't do crap-

Michael, experiencing constant harassment from Mr. Freeze: can you get lost already?

Mr. Freeze: I think you know the answer to that.

Michael, increasingly fed up with Freeze's toddler mindset: fine, you wanna know?

Mr. Freeze, excited: finally!

Michael: eternal life is a curse, not a gift,

Mr. Freeze: heh?

Michael: I mean look at me I'm literally a walking corpse held together with duct tape,

Michael: and don't even get me started on how I got here,

Michael: all I did was trust someone close to me,

Michael: and you know what happened?

Mr. Freeze:

Michael: I died!

Michael: and then a pile of robot spaghetti violated my body!

Mr. Freeze, backing away slowly: what the [ERROR: REPLACE: OEDIPUS]

Michael, watching him go:

Michael: well that was easy

Michael: should've done that ages ago

Scrap Baby, meeting Harley for the first time: you're a clown too!!

Harley, trying to compliment her: aww no you're a clown!

Harley: love your hair btw

Nightwing, very pointedly: yeah Harley's an actual clown cause she went to clown school

Scrap Baby: !!! Clown school!!!

(Harley and Scrap Baby having a therapy session)

Scrap Baby, lamenting: it took me so long to realize I didn't need to do everything Father said

Harley: aw yeah the patriarchy is deeply ingrained in society, but you don't need a man to be evil! You can be a villain all on your own!

Harley, raising a glass: anyways cheers to recognizing the most important man in your life was a manipulative [£√√@√]!

Scrap Baby, clinking her own glass against Harley's: to female villain empowerment!

Red Robin, listening in and comprehending the chaos Nightwing unleashed: oh Jesus Christ

[fanged-fanfics]

Hiii, I think it must’ve been like, 5 years since I ever sent an ask to an x reader blog lol. I’m doing it now since this whole year has just been plagued with health issues for me and rn my ribs/lungs/diaphragm/something on the sides are aching like hell T^T so I could rlly use some comfort from the sun and moon monkeys with a reader who suffers from health issues 🥺 not picky about gender or whether it’s s/o or platonic or if it’s a drabble or hcs, whichever feels right/easiest for you to write. Tysmmm 💚

💜🌙 Health Issues — Macaque and Wukong x GN Reader HCs 👑🧡

₊.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨👑🌙୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖

- Wukong has a history of being involved with medicine, so he might try to use more traditional/mystical methods to try and ease any aches and pains

- Macaque would be slightly more out of the loop, but he'd research more modern methods to try and help you out

- They're very accommodating to what you can or can't do, they're very willing to do anything you feel like you can't and are never judgemental if there's any small task that you don't feel up to

- Wukong usually has to train or monitor MK, so Macaque would probably be home most often. He might snark a little here and there, but he's very attentive with your needs. He remembers everything you need and gives you medication exactly on schedule, and he encourages you to eat and drink water regularly to keep your strength up

- When Wukong is home, he's usually right by your side if you're alright with it, making sure you're as comfortable as possible and keeping up his laid-back attitude to try and keep you in high spirits

- They surprisingly argue as little as possible around you, not wanting to make your physical ailments worse by adding mental strain on top of it. They keep their usual spats down to just the occasional off glance, and if they really need to fight, they do it outside of wherever you're staying

- Macaque is attentive to your smaller needs, making sure you have your little creature comforts and keeping things maintained on that level, while Wukong tries to make you your meals and prep activities for you to do to keep you entertained while also making it easygoing to reduce strain

- It's likely that MK visits you at some point cause he hears about your health problems from Monkey King. He might ramble your ear off for like an hour and a half before Wukong pulls them back

- If Macaque can't be near you for whatever reason, he uses shadow clones to stay nearby and take care of you in his stead, while Wukong would produce clones from his hair to do the same. You're basically never alone unless you specifically ask to be, then they pull back the efforts and allow you room to relax

[violetsandfluff]

Broken Ring

“They won’t have to cut it off, right?” you whimpered, feeling your lower lip tremble as you gazed forlornly at the glistening gem on your ring finger. Your doctor assured you that swelling in hands and feet was common during pregnancy, but it still shocked you when you couldn’t wiggle your ring past your knuckle.

You called Harry in a panic, explaining tearfully that the ring was stuck on your finger.

“I’ll be home in thirty,” he consoled you. “Put some ice on it ‘til I get back, okay? Don’t worry about it, lovie. It will all work out.”

You followed his instructions, icing your inflamed finger diligently until he got home. Paying such close attention to your ring brought you back to the day Harry had proposed to you.

The sunlight streaming through the trees overhead and the sound of the water lapping at the shore was permanently etched in your mind. Harry had been so young, only twenty years old at the time of his proposal. Now he was almost thirty, and proud to be expecting his first child.

“I didn’t expect you to be home so soon,” you sniffled as he walked into the kitchen, scooping you out of your chair and into his lap.

“Neither did the cops,” he joked. “Let’s see your little finger. Did the ice help?”

You removed the wad of ice and soaked washcloths from your hand only to find your finger more swollen and purple than you had left it.

“Ouch,” Harry said softly, tracing his finger over the bruised skin. “It’s hot to the touch, dove. Is it painful to touch?”

You shook your head slowly, a wave of tears threatening to spill out of your eyes and onto your cheeks.

“Try to twist it off,” he suggested. “Slowly, gently, like a Chinese finger trap.”

You tried to twist the ring off fruitlessly, every ounce of hope in your body dwindling. Harry’s face twisted in dismay as it became obvious that the ring wasn’t budging.

He tried oiling the skin, icing it more, and even wrapping it with dental floss, but nothing could help the ring over your swollen knuckle.

You had never dreamed that the ring you grew to love and treasure so much would meet its end at the mercy of a jewelry saw at urgent care. It was of utmost importance to you because of all of the memories it held. Now it was just a severed stone and band in the bottom of a clear Ziplock bag that you gripped as if your life depended on it.

“It’s okay, sweetheart,” Harry murmured into your hair as you clutched the accessory to your chest and leaned into him for solace. “I’ll buy you another ring, whichever one you want.”

“But…” you stuttered, “it’s not the same.”

“You can keep this forever,” Harry said. “We can get the diamond changed into a necklace or even put on a different band.”

“It feels like a broken promise,” you argued. “I’m never without my wedding ring.”

“All you need is right here,” Harry finalized, tapping your chest ever so slightly. “You’ve got every part of me right there, forever and always.”

Taglist: @madybeth21 @fishingirl12 @sortingharryshairclip @groovychaosavenue @mrspeacem1nusone @tenaciousperfectionunknown @cayleyhannha-blog @whitemancumslut @xxrosebunny @hsdaydreaminghaze

[theres-no-escaping-us-pal]

JAVEY HEADCANNONS

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

pre-relationship:

literally obsessed with each other.

like, Davey can’t shut up about Jack to Les

and Les is js like “okay? 🤨”

and Jack can’t stop drawing at Davey.

it gives him an excuse to stare at him.

he tells everyone that Davey is just fun to draw.

and then everyone’s looking at him like “sure buddy, suuureeeee”

a lot of ‘accidental’ hand brushes.

and other acts of ‘accidental affection’ like shoulder brushes and thighs touching when they sit next to each other.

Davey was the first person Jack cried in front of (other than Crutchie, of course)

Crutchie, Race, and Albert have a bet going over who’s gonna confess to who.

“Racer- psst- Race!” “what?” “twenty bucks says Jack confesses to Davey.” “you’re on!”

every single one of the newsies understood what was going on between them before they did.

Crutchie was their biggest shipper.

overall it’s a lot of them being blushing, oblivious, idiots.

confession:

I feel like it could go one of two ways.

option 1: Jack plans a romantic confession on the rooftop and gives Davey a whole romantic speech before saying, “so, what do ya say, Dave?” and kissing him.

ORRRR

option 2: Davey sees Jack’s collection of drawings of him while he and Jack are on the rooftop.

and Davey’s like “so… what are these?”

and Jack gets all blushy and starts stuttering like “I-I- well… uhm… so, ya see… y’know… uhm….”

then Davey just grabs his collar and kisses him.

anyways, choose whichever one you like better.

when Jack tells Crutchie, he either goes “oh, hell yes! RACER!! YOU OWE ME TWENTY!!” or “GODDAMNIT!! YOU COULDN’T’VE JUST PLUCKED UP THE CORAGE TO DO IT YOURSELF!? DAMNIT, JACK! I’M DOWN TWENTY DOLLARS!”

either way, he’s super happy for them.

post-confession (boyfriends):

tried to hide it from the newsies at first cause they were scared they wouldn’t be supportive.

then, one day Race found them kissing and was kinda just like 😐 before yelling for the other newsies. (I might write this as a oneshot)

obviously all of them are supportive.

even the Delancey’s were when they found out.

they’d tease the fuck out of them but not in a homophobic way, just a more light hearted way.

Jack always has his arm around Davey’s shoulders/waist when they’re walking.

pulled Davey down to kiss him by the tie one time and Davey couldn’t stop blushing.

sometimes Jack stands on boxes/stairs or sits on a bunk when him and Davey kiss cause he likes to feel taller.

Davey always makes sure that Jack is fed.

even if it means he gives up his food for him.

like, Ethster packs lunches for Davey and Les.

but most of the time Davey just gives his to Jack to make sure he gets at least one good meal.

Davey always lies about eating a lot at breakfast so Jack won’t feel bad.

Davey holds Jack against his chest when they cuddle.

if they’re spooning, they argue over who’s the small spoon.

Jack wins most of the time.

Jack likes to kiss Davey’s nose, cheek, or forehead in public, but kisses on the lips are only in private.

Davey reads out loud to Jack while Jack draws.

Jack’s love language is definitely physical affection or words of affirmation and Davey’s is quality time followed closely by physical affection.

they’re incredibly domestic.

Crutchie will make gagging sounds whenever they’re being really coupley.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

in conclusion: Jack and Davey are perfect and if anyone disagrees they can fuck right off my page. ❤️❤️❤️

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Can I make a angsty hurt/comfort request ?

Okay, so it’s like male!reader who’s a father to a kid, and he has the team over for dinner after a case.

Then his kid decides to come out to him by saying like “I’m gay, I like the same gender” or whatever (but obviously not like that but similar??)

And then reader goes like “you’re not gay, silly! Everyone likes the same gender a little bit! Maybe even more than the opposite gender!” But could you please add this dialogue in because I think it would be funny!! And he’s like: “I sometimes fantasise about being in a relationship/having sex (whichever you want to write) with your friend’s dad, but that doesn’t mean I’m gay!”

And the team and his kid look at him with shock/horror/confusion and he’s just standing there like… “what..? 😅” because he actually thinks this (his parents were homophobic and took him to conversion therapy when he asked if everyone like the same gender in that way)

Then someone from the team takes his kid out of the room to tell them that they’re valid and stuff and the rest of the team explain to reader that no, not everyone likes the same gender and that he might need to try and discover himself.

Plus whatever else you want!! Happy or sad ending is up to you!! (I think happy would be nice but maybe it can be a sad ending and a part two ??)

No pressure!! This is all up to you and you don’t even have to write it!!!

Love you !!!

- 🎀

Hiya, thank you for sending this in, this is an amazing idea! I hope I've done it justice (and sorry it's taken me so long)

Warnings: homophobia, internal homophobia (saying these just in case)

"I, um, I wanted to tell you all something." You watched as your son, Ethan shifts nervously for a moment. "I'm gay."

You shake your head, "No, you're not." And just like that, everyone around you freezes. "Everyone has a crush on the same gender." You wave your hand, dismissing him.

Ethan's face drops slightly, pushing the food on his plate around with his fork. "Look, I'm just saying it's normal to like the same gender, even more than the opposite gender. Take me, for example, I have crushes on men all the time. Like your friend Nathan, his dad? I have thoughts all the time about how I'd want to be in a relationship with him. That doesn't make me gay."

You look around, sensing everyone's eyes on you. A variety of different emotions are going around the table, shock, horror, disbelief, hurt.

"What?" You ask, taking another bite of pasta.

Garcia looks at Ethan, "Come on, let's step out for a minute," She gives him a kind smile and they both leave the room, Reid following them.

You look at the remaining members of the team, "What?"

"You know that's not true, right?"

"What's not true?"

"Not everyone is attracted to the same sex," Morgan said, you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, Morgan, they are." You shrugged, "Ethan's just confused. He'll come to terms with it."

"I don't think Ethan's the one who's confused." Prentiss chimed.

"What do you mean?" You ask, giving a soft scoff. "Of course he is."

"I think you're confused." Reid spoke up.

"Everyone has those thoughts." You stated.

"No, they haven't." Morgan argued, "I have never once found another man attractive."

"Not one?" You asked, finding that hard to believe.

"No."

You blinked. None of thise made any sense. "You're joking, you've got to be."

"What makes you think it's normal?"

"When I told my parents about it, that's what they said."

"They told you that?" Prentiss asked, sharing a look with Morgan.

"Yeah," You nodded. "So, I carried on with my life. And Ethan will do the same."

Morgan frowned, before sighing. "It's not something everyone thinks or feels, (Y/N)." He paused.

"Wait. No, hold on." You said, rubbing a hand over your face. "Does that mean that-?"

When you don't finish the sentence, Prentiss does for you. "That you like men?"

"Yeah." You said awkwardly at the question.

"Probably." Was her response.

You frowned. That quite literally went against everything you thought you knew about yourself. Your relationship with Ethan's mum before you separated, as well as every relationship with a woman ever. As well as the bond you had felt growing up with your best friend.

"That changes things." You said, blinking slowly. "I should probably go speak to Ethan."

The team gave soft nods and you headed out into the lounge, where Ethan was, leaning against Garcia, eyes red with Reid on his left. Your heart sank, you looked a lot like that after the conversation with your parents actually. You swallowed, trying to ignore the twinge in your stomach at the thought of passing this confusion onto your son as your parents had you.

"Ethan?" You asked softly, he looked up, quick to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Can I speak to you quickly?"

He only nods when Penelope squeezes his hand in reassurance. "We can stay here, if you want." She says to him softly, and he nods again.

You swallow heavily once again. "I'm sorry." You stated, carefully sitting in the seat opposite him. "I... I wasn't aware that it wasn't something everyone experienced. I repeated what my parents told me and in doing so, I hurt you."

Ethan watches you for a second. "It's not your fault-"

"You don't need to try to make me feel better kid." You said, "I told you what they told me, and in doing so, I invalidated you and your feelings. I dismissed you, and that's not okay."

When he opens his mouth to argue, you give him a firm look and he sighs slightly. "But you also didn't know any better."

"I should have." You reminded, "But I do now. So, I'm so sorry for how I reacted. And I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about it, and I'm sorry my original reaction wasn't what you were expecting, or what you deserved."

"That's okay dad," Ethan smiled, a split second passed. "So, Nathan's dad, huh?"

"I will ground you."

"That's a hate crime."

[dinocanid]

The voluntary/involuntary debate (-is making me lose my mind)

I don't see anyone saying this, but something being missed in the whole "therianthropy (and otherkinity) is completely involuntary!" conversation is that so much of the argument is overcorrection, and it's being treated as a binary when the lines are all grey. Which makes the constant back and forth feel very tiring.

First: context

10-ish years ago (even today in some crotchety circles), therianthropy-focused spaces were chomping at the bit to "weed out the fluff" due to the surrounding alt culture at the time (teen wolves) and the release of a few documentaries that many considered quite cringe-y and embarrassing. They went "oh god, we can't be associate with those weird people" and, while that wasn't the only contributor to the gatekeeping and grilling culture at the time, it was a significant one. So any new therians hoping to join communities were often grilled the hell out of, because people wanted to check if they were ""real"" therians and not those "fluffy teen werewolves" on TV. Therianthropy wasn't a game or a trend, it's a part of you, which is true. But "it's not a game" got bastardized into "it's involuntary" due to overcorrection and a lack of preserving nuance. Regardless if you think you were born a therian or if someone goes "I really want to be a [nonhuman animal]" and starts to embrace that identity, that's still therianthropy. "I want to be this, therefore I'm going to be this, and I am this" is still therianthropy.

This problem isn't unique to therianthropy either, "otherkinity must be involuntary" is also a result of overcorrection, more specifically due to the ableism and damage kinnie culture has done to the fictionkin community. Dragonheart Collective wrote a concise essay on this, so I will link that [right here] rather than repeat things, other than I have noticed "voluntary" be conflated with "kinnie" when it should not be. "Being kin isn't just relating to or liking something" got bastardized into "otherkinity is involuntary" by the community. Regardless if you think you were born otherkin or if someone goes "I really want to be a [character or nonhuman creature]" and starts to embrace that identity, that's still otherkinity "I want to be this, therefore I'm going to be this, and I am this" is still otherkinity.

Second: nuance.

No, involuntary doesn't inherently mean "it's a game". What counts as voluntary or involuntary is so blurry that a common conclusion can rarely even be reached on what it means. Things that have been seen considered voluntary:

Noticing the identity and choosing to embrace it versus shove it down and dismiss it

Waking up one day

Really wanting to be something and deciding to embrace it, versus dismissing it

Was born with the identity but picks and chooses which parts they prefer to focus on and explore

etc. along the above lines

And these are all perfectly fine ways of experiencing therianthropy and otherkinity, people have been having experiences like that for years. This is completely normal and nothing new and it's so tiring seeing people point fingers at places that these things didn't even come from, like TikTok.

"But what about linking then?"

This debate is much older than "-linking" terminology, which in and of itself is a product of this very debate. People made new words because so many were arguing if someone's identity is real if it originates in a particular way. This doesn't change how "-link" terminology should be used today, but it is worth noting that those are perfectly normal ways to experience otherkinity and therianthropy even if these other terms exist. It means you can use whichever personally feels best to you. It does not mean that people need to be shoved out of the non-link labels.

[shiorimakibawrites]

Hi Shiori!! Can I request a “Grab Your Tissues” for either Matt or Frank? Whoever you’re feeling more for the prompt: “I can’t sleep”

Hi Sapph! I hope you enjoy this (as well as your trip!)

Tags/Warnings: Insomnia, Low self-esteem, Mention of Stick, Referenced child abandonment Taglist: @loves0phelia, @nowheredreamer, @beezusvreeland, @yarrystyleeza

Can’t Sleep

Matt couldn’t sleep.

Not an unusual occurrence for him. His sleep schedule was terrible. Had been for years. Ever since the accident. Even with Stick’s training, he couldn’t seem to shut out the world enough to sleep sometimes. Tonight was one of those nights.

It seemed like every little sound in this building kept drilling into his ears. Foggy’s snores. People talking in the rec room. Other students in their dorms having sex or arguing. Or in the case of Jimmy and Amanda two floors up, both at the same time. People watching a movie or listening to music. The buzz of the lights, the rattling of the pipes, the flushing of toilets. The list went on and on. All perfectly normal sounds, typical for the student hall at night. No one was being particularly loud but for some reason Matt just couldn’t tune it out.

It didn’t help that his bed was uncomfortable. The laundry service had gotten backed up. So when Matt had accidentally spilled dinner all over his sheets, he didn’t have any fresh ones to put on. Foggy immediately offered his spare set so Matt wouldn’t have to sleep on a bare mattress until he got his spare sheets back. Or dirty ones got washed. Whichever came first.

Matt appreciated it. Really he did. Foggy was a good friend. A better friend that someone like him deserved. But all the gratitude in the world wouldn’t change that these cotton-poly blend sheets felt like sandpaper on his skin.

He was out of practice ignoring the sensation. He had gotten used to silk. He could hear Stick calling him a pussy for allowing himself to become so dependent on something like silk sheets. And maybe he was right. But it had been so nice, being comfortable while he slept, for the first time since the accident. He had thanked God for leading him to that girl’s bed during his first semester. Her silk sheets had been a revelation. So much of one that Matt had taken some of his precious cash and immediately bought two sets.

Foggy had teased him about it a little, joking that he was turning their dorm room into a brothel. They ended up pondering the logistics of such a venture, one of those bizarre yet thoroughly entertaining conversations he often had with Foggy. Sometimes it felt like he could tell Foggy anything.

Matt rolled over, trying to find a less uncomfortable spot. Another reason he couldn’t sleep. A debate weighed heavily on his mind. An argument he had been having with himself for months. Should he tell Foggy about his senses? His training? What really happened the night Elektra dumped him?

He wanted to. Sometimes it was all he could do to keep it behind his teeth. To only give the barest of hints, hoping that Foggy would pick up them. Put two and two together. It was possible. Foggy was a smart guy. Far smarter than he liked to give himself credit for. Sometimes it seemed like he had, from some of his questions.

But another, equally powerful part of his mind, dreaded Foggy learning those things. That Hey buddy would transform into Get away from me freak.

No matter how many times Matt tried to tell himself that Foggy wasn’t like that. He wasn’t cruel. Convince himself that Foggy wouldn’t reject him for his abilities. Remember how Foggy had gotten in people’s faces for being homophobic or racist or any number of things. He had protested bills targeting mutants. Every logical part of his brain said telling Foggy was safe.

And yet the terror remained. The knowledge that he was so awful that even as a baby, his own mother couldn’t stand him. The phantom sound of Stick’s retreating footstep clogged his ears. The ghost of Elektra’s perfume and that man’s blood filled his nose. All of it froze his tongue in his mouth. Seized his jaw in crushing grip.

He couldn’t do it. Couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk losing his friend. Matt was too weak. He needed that connection, craved the easy affection Foggy gave him as easy as breathing. He couldn’t lose it. He couldn’t . . .

“Matt?”

Matt started. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even heard Foggy wake up. Or sit up for that matter.

“Hey Foggy,” he said. “What are you doing up?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Foggy said. “It’s 3 AM.”

Matt shifted so he was facing the direction of Foggy’s bed. “I can’t sleep.”

“Why? Bad dreams?”

“Nah . . . just worried about that final in Dr. White’s class,” Matt answered. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

“Buddy, you shouldn’t be worried about that. You got that philosophy junk backwards and forwards.”

“It’s not junk,” Matt retorted automatically, sitting up himself when he heard Foggy moving. Getting up. “What are you doing?”

“Grabbing my laptop,” Foggy said. “Since neither of us can sleep, we’re watching a movie.”

“You were sleeping just fine.”

“Oh contraire mon ami, I was as restless as you were. You ain’t the only one worried about finals.” Foggy said. It was a lie. Matt didn’t need to hear the little skip in his heart to know that. And yet . . .

“What movie?”

“Do you really have to ask? The Princess Bride.”

“Haven’t you seen it a million times?”

“And I’ll see it a million and one.”

Matt let it go. It wasn’t worth arguing with Foggy about it. He recognized that tone. Besides he liked The Princess Bride. Listening to it one more time wouldn’t hurt.

[phneltwrites]

*shaking as i type this* wlw wedding please

hiii ok ill give you a long snippet because who knows if this will ever get finished.

“You could come with me,” Wille says. Simon’s fingers stop moving and Wille’s whole body tenses. “No, right. I know. It’s—forget I said anything.”

“Wille…”

“I get it, I really…” Wille starts to shift and roll. “I’m just going to—I should…” she gets up and Simon is forced to slide to the side. Simon lies on her back and throws her arm over her eyes as the bathroom door clicks closed.

***

Simon and Wille have had this conversation before. A few times. The problem is, Simon can’t casually show up to the Queen’s birthday as Wille’s date. There’s a protocol to it, like all of the things Wille’s family does. 

Simon explained it to her friends once.

“It sucks that these gossip rags keep posting about how Wille must be dating whichever tall man stood the closest to her at a gala,” Ayub says.

Simon grunts.

“What I don’t get is why the Royal family lets them, it’s like they’re hoping Wille will see it and forget she’s dating you and marry one of them,” Rosh says. Her opinions on the monarchy are noted and used to be the consensus of the group, but now, unfortunately, Simon knows things.

“It’s not that,” Simon pauses. “Or maybe that’s part of it, I’ll never know. But they can’t comment on Wille’s relationships unless that relationship is in an official courting stage. There’s, like, a process.”

Their eyebrows raise.

“But you’ve been together for years,” Rosh says. “If you don’t do this courting thing, it doesn’t count?”

“Yeah.”

Ayub approaches the issue from the other side. “So why don’t you do that?”

Simon groans. “Because if we do, then I’m expected to go to all of these things. If I don’t then it’ll look like we’re struggling  and that’ll be a whole PR situation. And I don’t want to go to this shit. I don’t want to stand up there and smile with Wille and be a space of this institution like I agree with it. They’re going to give a medal to a politician I think is a racist scumbag and I’d have to sit there and say nothing.”

They both nod.

Then Rosh says, “Wille’s fine with that? You’re going to keep living in Wille’s expensive apartment and going on private vacations with her forever?”

Simon kind of hopes so. It sounds bad when Rosh puts it like that, though. Simon feels guilty. “You sound like Sara.” Sara gives Simon so many lectures, with her sad eyes, about how it’s not fair to Wille, that at some point Simon has to act like she’s dating the Crown Princess.

“Sara’s also worried you’re being kept like a mistress?” Rosh’s voice is sharp.

Simon sits up. “No! What? It’s not like that. We’re just not doing the press stuff, the official royal suitor bullshit.” Wille and Simon are extremely girlfriends. Both their families know, heck, the whole royal court knows. And Simon knows more than anyone how seriously Wille takes her. She can’t stand that Rosh is thinking this about Wille, not when Rosh was the one who helped Simon compose her ‘I won’t do any straight girl bullshit. If we’re going to be hooking up, it’ll be as girlfriends’ speech. “It’s not Wille that wants to avoid this suitor thing,” Simon admits. “Wille wants to.” She does a pretty good job hiding her disappointment when Simon says no, but Simon can read it in the way she swallows, the speed with which her eyes drop and she looks away. 

They both digest that.

“Besides,” Simon continues, “the whole thing sounds so stupid. Royal suitor? Courting?” She shivers.

“Why don’t you skip that and go straight to engaged?” Ayub asks. He wiggles his eyebrows a little.

“We can’t do that, she has to ask permission from Parliament to get married.”

“What the fuck,” Ayub says.

Exactly.

***

They could get married, though. Parliament passed a special bill ages ago that specified that royal family members were free to marry regardless of religion or sexual orientation. Some guy tried to argue this had always been the case—let’s pretend that homophobia and cultural purity worries have never existed—but the bill still clarified that in case of any questions. It was done very much with the air of ‘it’s 2021 it’s past time’ but Simon knew that Kristina had met with the Prime Minister and whispered some things. It’s her gift to her daughter, her way of supporting any unconventional relationships that Wille might find herself in. It’s also a piece of political maneuvering so the government wouldn’t be caught on the back foot.

That’s part of what Simon means when she says everyone knows. There’s not a senior politician who comes to a function who doesn’t ask after Simon. Wille always reports back. 

That’s the political side. That’s not the side of Wille Simon knows best.

That’s Wille that Simon is willing to get up for early on a Saturday to watch her play football. Wille runs around the pitch in her shorts. She scores a goal and then spreads her arms around, running around like she’s an airplane.

I think I do want to marry her, Simon texts the group chat.

!!! princess simon coming up, Ayub responds immediately.

Im not wearing a dress at this wedding, Rosh adds.

She loves them both so much.

***

She goes with Felice to pick out rings, which turns out to be kind of insulting because Felice comes prepared with Wille’s pinterest board inside of which Wille had pinned her favourite styles. Simon could have picked it unaided! She knows her girlfriend. But the reassurance is nice. And she’s smiling like an idiot the whole time they’re browsing, so it’s nice to have a more sober counterbalance in Felice.

“You’re going to have to get something custom for the wedding,” Felice reminds her. “And you might end up picking out something historical as your ‘official’ engagement ring.”

Simon shakes her head. “Wille would want something that’s just hers.” The weight of all the tradition and expectation would be too much. 

Then Felice sniffles. So much for sober. ”Yeah,” Felice says.

The actual proposal is even easier. 

They’re at home. They’ve ordered takeout Thai. Simon has put the containers on the coffee table for them to eat while they watch Kristen Kish’s cooking show. Wille goes to get them bowls and when she puts them on the table Simon pulls her down to the couch. She takes both of her hands.

“Wille,” she starts. “I love you more than anything in the world.” Wille gives her a bemused look. “Ever since you hid from your own initiation party to spend time with me, I knew there was something about you I had to get to know better.” Simon skips over some of the drama in their early relationship. The way that Wille tried to convince Simon to ride her horse because that had worked out for Felice to make friends with Sara. The way that when Simon had gotten up the urge to kiss her Wille had blinked and said, ‘but no one’s watching us?’ and Simon had nearly turned into steam in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. The period after Erik died where Wille wouldn’t let Simon leave her alone but kept saying that she’d probably have to marry a man. “And that’s still true. I want to keep learning about you. I want to do that forever.” Wille gasps, getting it. She grips Simon’s hands tight. “Wille, will you marry me?”

Wille starts nodding and keeps nodding. “Yes,” she says. “Yes, of course!”

“You have to let go of my hand so I can get the ring,” Simon says, mild, but she’s grinning.

Instead of doing that, Wille lets go and starts rooting in Simon’s pockets. Simon starts laughing and leans back to give her access. Triumphant Wille pulls out the ring and jams it onto her ring finger. 

“Oh, it’s so beautiful, Simon. It’s exactly what I wanted.” She starts peppering kisses all over Simon’s face. She hits Simon’s lips a couple of times on accident. It falls to Simon to gently cup her face and pull her in. 

***

When Wille lets Simon off the couch it’s only because they’re starving. They shove cold pad thai in their face while they call their respective loved ones. Linda claps her hands and says how happy she is, Sara gives Simon a funny look that Simon will wait to find out about later. Felice asks to see how the ring fits and then they both burst into tears, which is terrifying. Rosh and Ayub are chill about it, offering congratulations.

And then Wille takes Simon’s hand. “You know I’d be happy if we never got married, right?” Simon does know that. “You’re already everything to me. There’s no ceremony that could tell us anything we don’t know.” Simon nods. “So if you wanted to keep this between our friends, I’m okay with that too.” Wille has been crying off and on so her eyes are red-rimmed and her neck is marked by Simon’s mouth. But she looks so earnest. Simon tries to get what she’s saying.

“I know what this means,” Simon says. “I don’t want you to go to those functions alone anymore.” 

Wille tears up again. She leans in and kisses Simon, slow and lingering. Then she kisses each of Simon’s cheekbones. They rest their foreheads together.

“I’m going to call my mother,” Wille says.

That’s the end of Simon’s private life.

[soullessjack]

another thing that really sucks about how the show went with jacks arc is like..he honestly did not have that good of a support system lmfao

yes the guys tried their best with very little to go off of in a LOT of areas yes I do have numerous posts and tags detailing how dean showed support but just LISTEN

the thing with characters that fall under specific archetypes (living weapon/monster-that-doesn’t-want-to-be-a-monster here) is that they usually have someone, or several other people in their life that. well. Support Them. like. shadow had maria to tell him that he could be whoever he wanted to be. the iron giant had Hogarth to say he is who he chooses to be. you get the idea. and yea, sam and dean and cas did eventually get to that point with jack — like dean even said in 13.06 that if jack is a monster for a single innocent death, so are he and the other guys for every death on their hands.

that’s fine and dandy and i wish more ppl acknowledged it but whatever but there’s also the faith part of it. Hogarth had enough faith that the giant would choose to be good and be his friend that he risked the other choice that would cost him his life. Maria (in the gens game) had faith that shadow wasn’t like black doom and wouldn’t join him. as much as tfw loved jack and genuinely saw him as their kid (which frankly makes it even more painful), when the chips were really really down they just. they didn’t fight hard enough for him honestly. i think even sam said that to dean in 14.19 or 15.03 (or whichever ep had the vampire kid) and he’s right.

bobby didn’t even consider the possibility of mary’s death being an accident. he gunned for jack like he was waiting for it to happen — waiting for the evil shoe to inevitably drop. i know cas tried to defend it, but “he may not have even realized what he did was wrong” is so flimsy I’m sorry cas it just doesn’t cut it (and it was very very wrong in the end anyways). sam and dean are still reeling from mary’s loss and don’t even know what to think, much less what to argue for or against. and I feel like.. how they really really felt, it was just littered in some dialogue here and there. Cas saying he knew something was wrong with jack and hiding it so their family didn’t fall apart, Sam saying they all knew [taking in] jack was a risk and yada yada. their general consensus was basically “yea we loved him but we always knew he might secretly have evil rabies and now that he’s evil it’s our fault for loving him so much we pretended he didn’t have evil rabies.”

and listen. i get why it went this way. i’m probably the biggest fan of Beloved Monumental Threat jack and functionally-dysfunctional TFW2.0 but like. it still hurts. and it hurts even more so when you pair it with jack’s psychotic subconscious hallucination telling him things like “stop pretending to be something you’re not, stop trying to go back where you don’t belong and you’ll feel so much better about it all.” literally looking nauseous for four days straight because he lost everything he ever had overnight and knows everybody thinks he’s Too Far Gone But He Really Isn’t So Please Let Him Come Back. eating a cactus would be significantly less painful and harrowing.

don’t make me tap the sign 👉 [JACK SUBCONSCIOUSLY THOUGHT OF HIMSELF AS THE PET MONSTER OF HIS SURROGATE FAMILY. PET MONSTER. ARE YOU HEARING ME. OEF MKNYDR]€.

im reaching incoherency here but what sucks even more than all of that is that there’s no payoff to it. never any apologies from the guys or Bobby or resolution on jacks end. They just keep putting him in saw traps and then wondering “maybe he shouldn’t have been put in there” and once he’s freed from the saw trap nobody says “sorry we put you in a saw trap buddy you never deserved it and we were wrong to put you in it” and it is so so maddening

[hheartsdramas]

love of the divine tree episodes 37/38

i am starting to suspect that this is a deep undercover mission on su yishui's part. as dun tian pointed out, he has been pretty inept at causing ranran any damage and rather than obliterating the stick figure he tried to shoo it away. he's spent his time killing no one. and he's constantly prying dun tian for information. hmmm. i live in hope

why are we insisting on saving su yu?? he doesn't deserve it!

re: above. i fucking swear i have not looked at spoilers except about it being a happy ending

what did you do to my poor baby boy?????? i barely got the chance to be smug!

oh hey it's fan xian's stepmom!

the fight scenes in this drama have been really great

she does love some bondage

are you happy now, su yishui? do you feel like you've finally paid your debts? YOU STUPID MAN *sobbing*

so wait is he dead or not? he's all tucked in like he's having the lovely sleep i won't be getting tonight because i need to keep going until he's okay or i get to the end, whichever comes first

this is absolutely not relevant, but we're all agreed that these immortal guys are queer life partners, right?

this nightmare! my poor baby boy!

THE LANTERN ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW

HE'S ALIVE!!! and with all his memories and feelings intact! (and almost three whole episodes left but let's not talk about that right now)

not them arguing about who's allowed to die for the other one or not

first fully aware kiss!!!!

su yishui really just said, "i'm a brat. [please punish me.]"

they just want to finally have their kinky sex and everyone keeps interrupting them with their world-saving business, so rude

this might be a weird thing to go feral over, but i am OBSESSED with them sitting shoulder to shoulder with all of that power and regalness and togetherness now that they remember fully who they are

wei jiu has many faults and apparently one of them is being a massive cockblock

you tell him, ranran! wei jiu needs to be knocked over the head a few more times and then to grovel for the next 500 years on his knees. and to get a new job because he sucks at being evil.

i am going to be responsible-ish and go to bed since i have a 5am wakeup time but i will be thinking about those last two episodes all day long.

[phoenixyfriend]

Shadow and Mirror

Read on AO3, written for this prompt

Cody has a new crush.

Well, a “crush” implies something much more childish than the point he’s reached in his life.

Cody has… felt a connection and really hit it off with someone he finds reasonably attractive.

His brothers are being less than supportive.

“He is my Jedi and one of my best friends,” Rex says, “but I just… for both your sakes, life will be so much easier if you don’t go for it.”

Cody is unfazed. “You do remember he was my Jedi Commander before he got promoted and took you with him, right? I know what he’s like, and I’m into it.”

Rex makes a face. “Uh, all due respect, Cody—”

Oh, this bitch.

“—but he’s changed in some pretty big ways since he split from Kenobi.”

“So’ve I.”

This earns him an eyeroll. “Yes, yes, you’ve discovered your romantic charisma and started charming the pants off of any sentient you encounter on leave. You do realize that’s part of the problem?”

“That I have game?”

“Skywalker doesn’t do casual,” Rex insists. “Open, maybe, if you talk about it, but he doesn’t do casual.”

After a moment of consideration, Cody shrugs. “I can work with that.”

“Can you?” Rex challenges. “Can you really deal with the full force of Anakin’s attention? With him losing his entire mind if you get hurt, and calling you up at three in the morning to chat, and promising you the galaxy in a bunch of flowery words that should be hyperbole, but really, really worryingly sounds literal and sincere?”

“…did you try dating him?”

“No, but I was there basically every time he hung with Amidala, and that shit continued past the point where he gave up on romantic seduction and settled into friendship,” Rex says, more of a grumpy complaint than anything, “and she’s just as weird as he is when it comes to all that, so it’s no skin off her back to match his energy, but you are not on their level.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying,” Rex grits out from between clenched teeth, “that you like to have fun, and Anakin likes to dedicate every morsel of crazy knocking around his brain to whichever poor soul ended up in his affections.”

“I feel like insulting your CO that much is grounds for a court martial.”

“Echo told him, to his face, that he occasionally seemed crazy as a bag of tooka kits and about as hinged as a sliding door. General Skywalker took a second to process, and then laughed. He doesn’t care, not if it’s from a friend.”

Cody hums. “Which you are.”

“Yes.”

“Enough to warn me away before I break his heart?” Cody asks. Rex looks away, and Cody can only chuckle. “You’re not that subtle, Rex.”

“I’m trying to make sure you do what’s best for both of you,” Rex insists, glancing at Cody for only a moment before breaking eye contact again, “so Anakin doesn’t get disappointed, and so you’re not walking in blind when it comes to him being… the most.”

Cody snorts. “I can handle Skywalker, Rex. I may not be a Jedi or a Senator, but I can handle one brat with a smart mouth, a bad attitude, and a couple of super-powers.”

Rex grimaces. “I mean… it’s not really… that simple. The Force stuff, I mean.”

There’s something a little odd to Rex’s voice with that one, more than just the weird pauses. Cody doesn’t dismiss it quite as easily as he might have. Instead, he carefully asks, “the whole ‘Chosen’ thing some of the Shinies were gossiping about? Kenobi said it was an old superstition more than anything, a metaphor taken too literally, and that even the Jedi argue about it.”

“When?”

Cody’s expression must speak for him, because Rex clarifies without prompting.

“When did Kenobi say that?”

Cody looks past him at the wall, frowning as he thinks. Rex waits, and doesn’t take it too personally; they know each other too well for that. Finally, Cody shrugs. “A couple months in. Skywalker was still a Jedi Commander with the 212th.”

“So, before Mortis.”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “This has to do with that shitshow?”

Rex looks uncomfortable. “You… aren’t 501st.”

“Yeah, and?”

“Well… Kenobi didn’t get possessed. Or channel a god. He just used an extra weird lightsaber for a bit.”

Cody gives it a few moments, and then finally says, “Rex.”

His brother continues to look uncomfortable.

“What did that place do to Skywalker and Tano?”

(Continue on AO3)

[airlock]

dunno if anyone's caught it in the air around me lately -- I'm kind of frustrated with the state of transfeminism.

I honestly hesitate to call it that. I've seen no shortage of people who keep appointing themselves as such when all they really do under that banner is engage in horrifying acts of transmisogyny, garden-variety transphobia, and general in-group forming.

don't get me wrong though; I'm not here to argue against the reality of transmisogyny. if anything, I feel more keenly aware of it than some of the people who bang on that drum constantly.

I'm sick of being lectured and called "uneducated" when I have disagreements, as if academia has now cracked all the answers to LGBT issues and I ought to just shut up and fall in line. I'm sick of being called self-hating and condescended to by people who can't imagine that I may have opinions that are based on my own principles, least of all by people who openly admit that they do not have opinions that are based on their own principles. I'm sick of seeing people undermine discussions about the shitty assumptions that people make of trans women by fully resembling the remarks in question and having the gall to act like being treated accordingly is just transmisogyny. I'm sick of people who flip-flop between acting like the true boddhisatvas of transfemininity and the victims of excessive wokeness as befits whichever narrative makes them right and everyone else prejudicious at a given time. I'm sick of this talk of "systemic issues, not individual issues" that turns into smoke the second it becomes about deciding who is or isn't allowed at the table. I'm sick of idpol being touted as the critterion that decides who is or isn't allowed at the table, but people who aren't transfem can say and do whatever they want as long as you agree with it (because they're standing up for us, you see! we need people to stand up for us even against ourselves), whereas transfem people who don't totally dance to the party line are suddenly fair game to remind that they too can be transmisogynistic. I'm sick of how some transfem experiences are just individual and dismissable, while others are collective and systematic and the true canon, and the distinguishing line between these things is nothing but the designated in-group.

and above absolutely anything else, I am beyond sick of watching transfems get dogpiled and scrutinized by transfems who complain about being dogpiled and scrutinized.

it's rare that this sort of thing should get me this heated. I don't exceptionally begrudge people who """should know better""" engaging in prejudice, not really. firstly, because that'd be holding them to a higher standard than people with greater privileges, which is all backwards; secondly, because in any case I choose my allies based on their actions and not their identity, anyway. nonetheless, I think it just really makes me want to vomit when people invoke my name, claim that it's for my benefit, when they get to arguing that it's fine to call people theyfabs. all the moreso when they make no secret of how eager they are to socially isolate me if I refuse to accept that.

and you know what? I ought to extend the favor that I expect. I will miss some of y'all with false talk of trans sisterhood. I, for my part, fully accept any accusations of being divisive, because I am. I'm a radical inclusionist. I do not break bread with harassers, I do not break bread with people who argue in my name against the reality of the transphobia that others experience as if it's a matter of turnabout, and I do not break bread with people who, emboldened by their bubbles, speak over me.

I hope you'll not begrudge me talking about my intracommunity issues without some scalene reminder that I don't like transmasc terfs either. at the rate things seem to be going lately, I hope there are transfems left around here that I could still get along with if I draw this line in the sand. I hope it's even possible for some us to get along even if we don't agree every last part of this, or other matters of transfeminism (I am ambivalent on the "tma/tme" thing for example if that's a point of concern); set your own prequisites for that, but all I ask is not to be treated like shit, based on the golden rule if nothing else.

[cherrari]

TRICK OR TREAT MINAH do you have more chalex <3

they're lesbians. surprise

This isn’t the first time they’re being corralled pre-race into some silly PR stuff, and it won’t be the last. Alex expected it the moment she read the headline saying Charles would be moving up that year. Two girls on the grid—two talented girls on the grid—was unprecedented. Hell, if Alex were a marketing intern, she’d milk the shit out of them too.

That doesn’t mean she has to like it, though.

“You’ll be playing against—oh, here they are now,” the staff member begins, and is promptly cut off by Charles’ gasp.

“Antonio!” she shouts, clapping Antonio on the back. He flushes slightly, but manages to get a greeting out before she launches into hasty Italian. 

Behind him, Artur waves at Alex. Alex waves back.

“Ferrari drivers, am I right?” Alex jokes. Artur only makes a noncommittal noise back, his eyes shifting back towards Charles every few seconds.

Alex can’t help but snort at how obvious he is. The staff member waits patiently off to the side as Antonio and Charles chat; Charles is loud, all dramatic hand movements as she discusses what Alex imagines is her earlier wall tap, judging by the sound effects she makes. Antonio laughs at that, which makes Charles laugh even more, and something in Alex sours.

“The game?” Alex prompts, nodding to the staff member.

“Oh, yes!” She stands up straighter and herds Charles back in Alex’s direction. Charles falls into line without complaint, and Alex soon feels Charles’ eyes bearing into the side of her face again. “Okay, so as I was saying, you guys will be split into teams and…”

The game is simple. She’ll ask them a question and they’ll have to write down their answer. Whichever pair has the most matching answers wins. 

Charles’ face scrunches up. “We are going to do terribly,” she grumbles. 

“No faith,” Alex says, but she privately agrees. She doesn’t know how much she and Charles have in common, other than being girls, but it can’t be much. 

“If only our partners were swapped,” Charles laments, picking up her whiteboard.

“You each need to pick a team name too,” the staff member says. “Pick while I set up the camera.”

Alex is content to let Charles decide, and decide Charles does: “Let’s be… Team Guys.” 

“Team Guys,” Alex repeats in a deadpan. “Is that a French word?”

“No, no. Like, Team Men. Guys,” Charles repeats, with emphasis, as if that makes any more sense. “Since we both have guy names. It is about the irony.”

Alex’s head whips around, and she makes proper eye contact with Charles for the first time that day. “Excuse me, I do not have a guy name,” she huffs. “And neither do you.” 

Charles’ real name is Charlotte. Everyone knows this. The Sharl comes from the first syllable. It’s easier to say in a hurry.

Charles pouts, hugging the whiteboard to her chest. “My male cousin is named Alex, you know,” she argues.

“Alexander, probably.”

“No,” Charles says, stubborn. “Just Alex.”

Alex rolls her eyes. The last thing she needs—or wants, really—is to draw more attention to how she’s not a guy. It’s an objectively stupid name anyway. Everybody already knows why they’ve been paired up.

“No, Charles.” She uses the name to soften the blow, but keeps her voice firm. “Let’s just use… I don’t know. Team Art.”

“Team Art,” Charles repeats, like the very word makes her sick. “Fine.”

She’s sulky for all of five seconds before the staff member calls for their attention and she brightens back up. Alex finds it impressive how quickly she can move on from disappointment. She’s never seen her sad for more than a few minutes.

To Alex’s private relief, Artur and Antonio pick Team Trident as their name. It sounds better because of the alliteration, but it’s objectively just as uninspired as theirs.

The game proceeds smoothly enough, and by that, she means it goes exactly how Charles predicted: terribly.

Favourite season to race in? Charles says spring. Alex says fall.

Favourite Italian food? Charles says pizza. Alex says pasta.

Favourite track on the calendar this year? Charles says Monza. Alex says Silverstone. To be fair, they would’ve never agreed on this one even if they were given a thousand retries.

The end result is a total demolition. 9-2 in the Trident’s favour. Charles buries her head in her hands when she sees the prize: a signed Sebastian Vettel driver card. Originals, not photocopies.

“You’re going to be driving with him in a few years anyway,” Alex consoles her, patting her back. “I’m sure he’ll give you all the signed driver cards you want then.”

“I did not want it for me,” Charles huffs, then adds matter-of-factly, “My brother is also a Ferrari fan, you know.”

“Of course,” Alex says, and notes how unsubtly Charles dodged the rest of her comment.