#talking about your feelings does help who knew.....wish it didn't feel like stripping myself down to my core though

[kikuism]

told my siblings i was having an existential crisis (low-key panic attack) on the bus about turning 26 and it made me feel better just telling them even if they didn't offer any life changing advice i still felt so relieved

[localcactushugger]

Does anyone else ever get sad thinking about the abuse Hawks went through as a kid? Because I keep making myself sad thinking about it.

It's so many different kinds of fucked up that just mixed together and created one huge toxic environment.

#1) The physical abuse.

Right off the bat, Chapter 299 starts with Keigo getting hit by his father for leaving the house. It doesn't actually show Keigo being smacked, instead it shows a panel of their "home". (although it's extremely small and looks more like a broken down shack in a field to me)

But the sound of the "smak" is very much punctuated in the panel, followed by Keigo hunched over with marks on his face:

The marks on his face are prevalent. Even in the smaller panel, Keigo still has a very obvious bruise under his eye and above his eyebrow.

THEN he gets kicked in the side/stomped on for "turning his back" on his father?? (Aka doing nothing. Literally what did he do?? Wtf?):

He's getting smacked and kicked around, but instead of crying or getting upset he just endures. Which brings me to:

#2) The Emotional and verbal abuse. (Strap in cause there's a lot of it.)

Keigo apologizes after his father kicks him for no reason, then he curls up into a ball, clings to his Endeavor plushy, and listens as his own father rants about how much he wishes that Keigo was never born.

^^^^^^^ LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID ASSHOLE. HE'S LITERALLY CLINGING TO HIS PLUSHY FOR COMFORT!! WHY ISN'T ANYONE HUGGING HIM??? CAN I HUG HIM??

Keigo says that he knew his parents were broken, so he endured because he wanted to avoid their fate.

Basically: "I know my parents are broken, but need to endure because I don't want to become broken too."

That's a horrible mindset for a child to have?? He's basically saying that he just needs to take the abuse and hope that he doesn't break because of it?

And I don't know how he wouldn't break from it with the way his parents talk to him, and all the horrible things they say:

The constant screaming/yelling. Like Shit.

"Don't do a damn thing!" " Who did you sell me out too?? You can't fool me!!" "Don't leave this house!" "Don't you dare lie to me!!" "Don't go talking to anyone!!" "You thought you'd get away with it didn't you??"

"How many times have I told you not to turn your back on me??"

"If only that punk was never born I'd be free."

"Why were you even born?" "Why do you even have those wings?"

He's gotten it from both parents. And every time it happens he just hugs his plushy a little tighter.

#3) The neglect.

In pretty much all panels of Keigo's home theres Trash everywhere. If you go back and look at the house there isn't a single panel without some kind of trash in the frame. I see beer bottles, wine bottles, wooden planks, trash bags, newspapers, dirty rags, dirty laundry hanging from the wall & hangers, floor boards coming up, leaks from the top of the walls.

The "house" is barely holding together as it is. It looks like it's about to collapse, and the inside makes you think a tornado ran through it. Nobody is bothering to clean up the mess. In fact the only person who seems to be patching up the house is Keigo. This seems to be a routine for him since he can be seen picking up a wooden plank to fix the wall. Too bad his father kicked him before he could repair the hole 🙃.

Seriously does the "house" even have running water? The windows are broken the walls are made of tin roofing tiles. Does it even have heating or insulation? It's obviously not suitable for a child. I'd be afraid that the roof was gonna fall on me while I was sleeping.

I understand they can't buy a proper home. But it wouldn't be so bad if someone acutely bothered to clean the inside a bit. At least maintain the house so your kid doesn't step on a nail, or glass from a beer bottle. IF A CHILD CAN PATCH UP A WALL SO CAN YOU. WHY IS KEIGO DOING ALL THE WORK?

You people are gonna get rats and bugs. (If you dont have them invading your "house" already)

And that's only the house.

What about Keigo? He doesn't even have shoes. His shirt is torn at the seams. And his parents didn't even notice when he left? Keigo's dad yelled at him for leaving the house and going outside, but was anyone even watching him in the first place? How does your child leave the house and make it halfway to the city before you notice? This little bird looks like he weighs 5 pounds! He's gonna get kidnapped!!

His mom is obviously unstable and she stares at the wall all day. And his dad hates him for existing. So I guess no one was watching him?

His mom also doesn't really seem to care when Keigo gets yelled at, hit, and kicked either. She just kinda stares at the wall. Then when her and Keigo become homeless and start living in a train station she guilt trips him into stealing for her. Like Really??

HE GOT INTO A CAR ACCIDENT TOO! You sent your child out to steal for you and he literally got into a car accident. He managed to save everyone involved but still, are trying to get your son hit by a truck? This is why I have so many mixed feelings about Tomie.

#4) Being held hostage in his own home.

This one is self explanatory. Keigo got hit in the face just for going outside. He was held hostage in his home for so long that he didn't even know heroes existed. And this is a society where heroes are everywhere. I'm sure it was a lonely childhood, kinda hard to make childhood friends when you get beaten just for leaving the house.

#5) Whatever the fuck "rough training" was.

I know we haven't seen Keigos "rough" training yet. Horikoshi only went into a little bit of detail about it when he mentioned that the commission taught Hawks negotiation skills as a kid. And then theres that one image in the Season 4 outro where Keigo has a blindfold on as a child during training.

But I still would like to know more.

Why would you put a child through "rough" training, strip him of his name, and tell him it's all because he's gonna become a "special hero" right after you've pulled him out of an extremely abusive situation. Like, you aren't gonna wait a bit? Preferably until he's a teenager? Not gonna give him therapy or something?

Isn't pulling a child out of an abusive situation and putting them through "rough training" kinda like transfering them from one abusive household to another?

LET THE BOY REST! LET THE KID BE A KID. YOU ONLY HAVE ONE CHILDHOOD AND HE'S ALREADY MISSED OUT ON MOST OF HIS!!

The training can wait.

If you want help him and support his family, do it out of the kindness of your heart and not because you think he'd be a useful hero.

I honestly don't know how this "training" went for Keigo, but considering that he doesn't currently have the best relationship with the HPCS . . . Well I don't know. All I know is that he never really seems too happy around people from the commission. He doesn't seem to agree with any of their ideologies either.

Honestly I just want him to find peace!

Based on what we've seen so far, (*cough* especially from the Todoroki family *cough*) you really shouldn't be training a child to become a hero in the first place. The training can start as a teenager if someone chooses to train.

Look at the way you massacred my boy! Give the kid a break for fucks sake!!

And these are just the early years. Don't get me started on everything else ✋🙄

[theficplug]

|Next Lifetime|Erik Killmonger|

previous chapters : Part 1 Part 2  Part 3 

erik killmonger x black reader

|part 4|

warnings: um definitely smut this chapter at the end. so 18+ for this chapter! and a possible trigger warning for grief but i promise it gets better and its a romcom.

synopsis:  reader grieves Erik until she doesn’t (i’m trying not give too much away). This one is a long ass chapter. So, grab you a snack and something to drink! I hope y’all like it.

“You promised on our birthday that you would give me something far more special than the charms you would gift to me. In 2018, you wanted to avenge your birth parents and you went off and did something foolish and when you- when they returned you to me you were-.” you struggle for a bit to find the words to explain it all to him as he takes a step back to gather himself. 

He rubs his eyes before grabbing your arms gently and massaging them . He leans down to look you in your eyes before asking “Ma, did you take something before I came to pick you up? You alright? Cause what you saying don’t make no sense at all... Your pupils don't look dilated though.” 

“I know how this must sound. Batshit crazy. I know it sounds crazy to me too. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m losing my own damn mind. I don’t know how or why. I just know that you came back to me.” you say to him and he shakes his head. 

“Erik. You’re talking about your ex boyfriend...The one that passed... . Alright, I’m going to take you home now... I still don’t understand what’s going on here and I’ve had about all I can take of trying to understand what’s going on here.” N’Jadaka says quietly to you before going around and opening your car door. 

The drive was silent as you picked at your nails and let the soft r&b roll over the tension between the two of you. 

Your own thoughts were going in about a billion different directions again. It didn’t feel right to just sit on all of that and not say anything at all. As ripped from a science fiction film as it sounded at least he knows. 

He was never one to think quietly because you could practically read his thoughts with the changing of expressions across his face.

The relief of seeing your building washed over you as he offered to walk you to your door. 

It was bittersweet because there was still so much of him in this different version of him. Even when he was upset with you or livid with whatever ghost that was haunting him back then,  he still showed nothing but tenderness to you.

You nod and give him a small smile before following him up the stairs , to your elevator, and finally your door. 

“I know that this is a lot. I mean who in their right mind would be able to process all of that.I wish there was any other way to say it... But thank you, I had a really nice time.” your soft words snap him out of staring at your face as if he was trying to piece it all together.

He knew deep down that there was something about you and what happened that weekend while dreaming in colours and other worlds but he couldn’t wrap his head around all of this happening in real life.  

You lean up to kiss his cheek and he grabs your shoulders softly. “With all due respect. You seem like a lovely person and a good woman, but I just - this all a lil too weird for me and I don’t think it’s a good idea that we continue seeing each other.” 

He kisses your hand and leaves with one look over your shoulder as you call out “Meet me at our spot. If you are still anywhere in there. You’ll know what I mean.”

“What the hell happened ? I didn’t expect you back until tomorrow morning?” Iri says as she settles on the other side of the sofa and patted the spot next to her as you kick off the sandals and lay your head on her lap with tears already prickling your eyes. 

“Oh you didn’t? Please don’t tell me you told him about the soulmate reincarnation thing? Sweets, you probably scared the hell out of that man. We needed you to keep that waaay down in the vault.” Tiki adds as she pops the cork off the bottle of wine in her hand and pauses the movie playing on the screen in the background. 

“Here’s what we’re gonna do . You’re gonna text him and tell him that you had just gotten your wisdom teeth removed earlier today and the meds had you unexpectedly zooted as fuck. “ Iri suggests and you chuckle softly.

---

Meanwhile at N’Jadaka’s house he was already being pestered by Lina and Penn for some type of details about what happened during the date. Orleans was already in the kitchen cooking and ear hustling but went back to his conversation on the phone with Big Mike when he realized there wasn’t any tea. 

“I don’t feel good. I’m finna go lay down. I’ll talk to y’all in the morning”. He says simply to them before trudging his way to his part of the house.

They had been friends since college and just got used to the idea of living together as they did in the dorms so they made it work after graduation. 

It helped them save money for when they finally separated and all of their schedules kept them busy so they didn't have time to get sick of each other. They also knew him well enough to know when something was bothering him and to leave him alone when he gets this moody.

"What the fuck?" He whispered under his breath 

"What the fuck was all that?" He continues talking to himself as he strips and walks past the bathroom mirror to the shower. 

He stops when something catches his eye. He sees a birthmark on his chest that almost resembles the shape of claw marks. He lets his fingers linger over the mark for a second. Thoughts of a panther mask clouded his memories for a moment before he shook his head and entered the shower. 

---

A few hours later of talking through it with your girls about possibly seeing a therapist about all that's going on and you were ready for bed. 

It didn't take long to drift off, you were ready to put the whole thing behind you. 

The familiar setting of purples , pinks, and hues of blue came into focus and you looked around letting the butterflies land on you again.

 You walk through the flowers and find Erik sitting by a stream of water weaving some of the flowers together. 

"What the hell, E?" You ask as you run over to him and wrap your arms around his neck

He turns to you and smiles big , his dimples on full display before shrugging. 

"It ain't perfect but it's the best I could do. They said it's like a do-over or something like that. I get a second chance but as a result of the way I did things the first time it's a lil different. Like when you restore a computer and it lose all it's files and shit. I get a new life but I'm still kinda stuck. I kinda like it though. I don't remember all the other shit when I'm awake. It really is like starting over. Shits crazy to explain when you think about it. But for you , you already know. I'd find you in this life and the next and the one after that. I don’t think I’mma ever fully remember what happened with all of that when i’m awake. I’m cool with it. It ain’t something I’m tryna remember." He says tipping your chin up to look at you and kissing you softly 

"I know. At least I get to hold you in the real world. It's just different. But guess what I saw today? I seen that bench that you and me signed all them years back. It's still there." You say to him and he places the lil flower bracelet around your wrist as y'all sit and talk for the rest of the night.

By the time you wake up with the aroma of breakfast wavering throughout the loft you feel a little better about the whole situation with Erik, not Erik. 

You opened your phone and sent him an I'm sorry gif with a few extra words inspired by Tina's wisdom tooth lie. 

 After easing into the kitchen and standing in the doorway you see the two lovebirds dancing around the kitchen singing to each other and laying food on the plates. 

"Morning lil sleepy head. Don't forget that I'll still be coming down to the center with you today for the seminar. You hungry?" Iris asks as she places the plate in your hands with a kiss to the top of the head. 

"Of course. There's a young girl, Sophie there that I really think would love to talk to you. She's just starting her transition. And her parents are wonderful but they don't really have much money. She hasn't really had the chance to get more “feminine” presenting clothes and she likes makeup.  " You say and she nods catching your drift.

"Well it'd brighten anybody's day seeing a beautiful successful trans woman like myself honey. But let's lift her spirits even more. I'm gonna bring some of the makeup I got from pr packages and some of the clothes from this collection. I really hope it helps." She answers and Tika just saunters over to her proclaiming her love for her. 

"Alright alright alright. I get it. I'm single as hell." You say laughing softly

---

Two weeks ticked by with radio silence on N'Jadaka's end. After the 4th day when he gave you the cold shoulder at a coffee shop, you decided to stop trying.

Maybe it wasn't fate and maybe you were just believing what you wanted to believe. 

You reason with yourself as you walked around the loft making notes about the new housing project you were working on. 

Finally having the house to yourself with the lovebirds gone for the day on a little adventure. You got to work budgeting and calling different areas to rent out apartments to you for women and lgbtq+ with housing insecurities. 

Your ramblings and thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door , thinking that Iri or Tika left something behind. 

"I told you to take your sunscre- Daka?" You question as he stands in front of you

You cross your arms and furrow your brows while waiting for an answer from him.

He stands for a moment like he’s trying to gather all of his thoughts together in a way that makes sense to both of you. 

"What're you doing here?" You ask putting your hand on your hip. 

He drops his shoulders and lets out a soft sigh before looking at you.

"I didn't wanna believe it. What you said that night cause like how the fuck does something like that happen? I’mma be honest.  I wanted to just believe that you were a lil off and leave it at that but something keeps telling me that you right. I can't remember shit before college and all I wanted to do was be with you. From the moment I met you in the store. I was like, this is it. This is what's missing. A piece to a puzzle that's all jumbled up." He admits and you nod slowly before letting him in. 

You walk around the kitchen getting a cup of tea for yourself and sitting a cup of coffee down on the counter for him.

“Don’t worry it’s black, I know you dont like it sweet.”

"You know I didn't exactly expect my fiancee that I buried months before to show up at a damn supermarket of all places. This isn't some movie or fanfiction. These kind of things don't happen in real life. Daka you, you had claw marks all over you. The last time I laid eyes on you. And now you're here in front of me. I thought that I was losing my mind." You say and he starts to unbutton his shirt.

"These." He says peeling his shirt off and showing you the birthmarks on his chest and shoulder.

You trace your fingers over it before leaning your head on his shoulder. 

"I asked my parents about my childhood and when I passed by my old neighborhood a few days ago andI remembered some things. I remember what happened to my other parents, in pieces. Shit’s brutal." He says dropping his gaze

"It's okay." You whisper to him and wrap your arms around him. You rocked him for a moment letting him let all of those feelings wash over him. 

He embraced you for a moment before kissing you tenderly. You tug at his bottom lip before deepening the kiss when he press you against the counter. 

"We'll figure it out... Something telling me I'd be a fuckin fool to lose you again." He says quietly against yours lips. 

"Are you gonna make love to me or are you going to keep looking at me like that?" You ask as he studies your whole face like he's looking at art. 

"A memory. It's you. We stood right here and I kissed you the same way. You were saying something like "you bring yourself home to me"." He says and you nod frantically, holding him closer to you.

"I did. It was right before you left." You admit and he nods before lifting you up onto the counter and kissing you heatedly this time. He kisses down to your breasts before looking up at permission from you to unhook your bra. 

Always a man that knows what he's doing. He takes kisses around your breasts and nipples. He takes his time to lick and caress you until he works his way down.

You shake your head yes before moving to slide off your panties but his kisses and his mouth is already beating you to it as he kisses down to your thigh.

He slides your panties off with his teeth and tosses them over his shoulder. 

You tilt your head back as you feel him wasting no time massaging over your clit and working you over with his fingers, curling them and stroking you gently. 

Your soft moans fill the room when he hooks your leg over his shoulder and begins to suckle your clit softly , swirling his tongue over it. 

"Tika will kil- Ooh god. How does your tongue feel like it's vibrating?" You ask and he only chuckles and grips onto your cheeks to bring you closer to him.

He was feasting on and devouring you like he was going to lose again and you could grind your hips down against his tongue and moan his name sweetly.

He didn't stop his tongue or fingers working in you until your legs are shaking and you're gripping at his head. 

"You have- fuck. I'm a squir-" you moan his name brokenly while trying to get out your words and lean back for a moment licking his lips before realizing what you're trying to say.

"Hold that for me. I wanna come with you." He says to you and you pout and protest as he removes his fingers. He picks you up off the counter and carries you bridal style asking you which room is yours.

"Left , left." You giggle into his shoulder as he helps you slide your dress off and you unbutton his jeans for him. 

You capture him in a kiss for a moment feeling his soft plump lips against yours again for the first time in what feels like forever. 

"It's been a long time since I've done all of this. . . Gentle." You say and he runs a calloused finger over your cheek moving a curl away from your face as he looks at you. 

He gets a quick flash of a memory of you and him in bed. You wore a smile on your face before telling him "happy anniversary".

He trailed his fingers down your body remembering almost every scar , every moment. 

When Erik got to a scar at your side. He chuckled, unlocking a memory of you two running from the neighborhood rottweiler , Smokey. 

That old ass dog hated you and he hoisted you over the fence first after being out late one night in high school. The gate had caught your side when you jumped. 

Erik felt so bad he brought you food from anywhere you wanted everyday from to school for a month. 

He leans down to place open mouthed kisses to it. 

He traced over your thighs to the cellulite and stretch marks remembering when you first got them. 

He was moving homes at the time and he wasn't ready to be further away from you yet.  You two just sat for hours at the park in the grass, talking. 

" You know white men behind all of that anyways. They want y'all to feel like you gotta look the same way. That's how they make them billions. My mama had 'em . Yo mama , and generations back. And it ain't ever stop them from being the women they are. Besides if any dirtneck nigga ever try you , just tell me. Imma handle it." He would say as you sat with your head on his lap, staring at the sun setting, knowing good and well your grandparents were gonna ground you for being late when you get home. 

They never did though cause you were with Erik they knew you were gonna be alright. 

"Nothing to worry about. I… I've never done any of that stuff before…Have you?" you question hesitantly as you stare off. 

"Tisha. From Ms. Wilkes class. We was coming from the kick back-" 

"Uh uh . That's your business , you ain't gotta tell me all of that." You say slightly upset at the fact that Tisha of all people was his first. 

----

"I got you." He says kissing your forehead then your nose before hooking your leg over his hip and easing into you slowly while his lips are still on yours. His eyes never left yours as he cupped your face sweetly like he didn't want to lose you again. 

In this moment he gets a glimpse of prom night and how things changed between the both of you forever. 

He wraps his hands around your waist. One of his hands splayed across your belly. 

He remembers the pregnancy scare you both had afterwards with him holding your hand and telling you no matter what happens he wanna be there for both of you.

Luckily, nothing came of it but you were definitely closer because of it.

You let out an open mouthed gasp at the feeling of being so full of him after so long. 

You rest your hands on his neck and shoulder and he bottoms out fully settling into you as he moves his arms next to  balance himself. 

You close your eyes as he begins to stroke into you trying to set a rhythm for you as his praises for you fall from his lips. 

He kisses his way down your neck licking the marks that are already starting to form there. 

"My lil baby." He mutters out after licking a freshly formed hickey forming on top of your breasts. 

You open your eyes slowly , looking at him and the way he's looking at you . 

"It's been way too long since I've heard that from you. You're remembering?" You ask quietly as you let out a soft moan.

N'Jadaka's muscles flex and tighten as he picks up his pace. His abs clenched as he  pulls out almost completely and filled you at a different angle.

 The sounds of your moans filling the room with every stride and stroke of his hips,  it seems like you're closer to floating in space. The man was fucking you like his life depended on it and at this point all you could do is wrap your arms around him again to comfort you as he shutters and rolls his hips deeper into you. Your walls tighten around him as you relish in the feeling of him. 

"Fuck. I remember all of it." He says half chuckling at the way it's coming to him and half nearly in tears cause he really missed being with you. 

"I also remember that this is your favourite position cause you like to see my face." He teases before leaning down to kiss you again with them plump ass lips.

"E?" You ask , grabbing his face with trembling hands.

"Baby?" You ask again 

He moves his hands from your waist and places your hands in his. Then moving them above your head as he flashes in between making love to you for the last time and now.

You roll over with him and place your hands on your chest riding him slowly getting the rhythm as he strokes into you from below. 

He laughs softly when he realizes what you're doing. 

"Are you spelling my fucking name , baby?" He asks and you tell him that you can spell both.

You let out a whimper when he brushes your spot and let him take over as he runs his hands over your thighs to your butt and over your back as he strokes into you. 

He plants his feet on the bed and work your hips in rhythm with him. 

It didn't take long for you to orgasm with a loud shriek of his name . You had forgotten how he gets when he's close as his hands on gripping all over your thighs and your back. You were already feeling sensitive with your second orgasm coming through and this man felt like he was trying to put it in your belly. 

He rolls you onto your side giving it to you deeply. 

With a loud hiss and panting from him he cums , holding you in his arms.

"I don't think it has felt like that since our birthday last year." He says into your ear as he pulls you closer into his arms. 

He engulfs you fully in his embrace and presses a kiss to the side of your head. 

You laugh softly and roll over to face him , resting your forehead against his.

"I remember. You took me to Paris. I had never been and at the time I was obsessed with everything Parisian. We fucked on the balcony and somehow I ended up popping the straps to my favorite dress. You still owe me by the way." You tease and he shakes his head laughing. 

"I think we ended up saving they marriage from across the way though. They was arguing the whole time. Then they gon watch us like we ain't see them." Erik says laughing as he squeezes your thigh playfully.

"I know they was trying some things." You joke 

"I missed you so much. You don't even understand." You admit with a somehow saddened and relieved expression. 

"I know.  I want to start over this time. All of that Erik Killmonger shit is over with. I wanna keep the name N'Jadaka and just start over. All of that was too heavy on me to carry. I wanna let it all go. I wanna do it right with you." He explains 

"Good because if you put me through that again. Wakanda will be the least of your damn worries." You say to him and he nods giving you his word, sealed with a kiss.

"It'll be alright. Everything happens for a reason. And I think that right now a bath needs to happen and I'm gonna need you to do that thing again that you did in the kitchen cause I'm tryna figure out when you learned that-" 

At some point after the bubble bath/ shower combo you were both out like a light until Iri and Tika decide to come busting in like they usually do with little gifts and food for you. 

"Guess who's your fave- SHE GOT A WHOLEASS MAN IN HER BED" Iri announces to Tika before your pillow hits the door as she closes it. 

"Sorry about that. This is kinda our cuddle hour so they're used to just coming on in." You say sleepily and he just laughs it off while holding you closer. 

"It's all good. I remember that I ain't know them much before but when we did spend time with them, they were good people." He says, still trying to piece it together.  

----

You fell asleep more peacefully than you had in a long time. Now granted, good sex didn't fix the many layers of issues and mysticism surrounding everything.

But for now, you knew that you had him, you had your girls, family and your business. Everything felt alright again. 

Right up until the point of sleeping through the first alarm to meet the property owners.

"Bae. Bae your phone going off." N'Jadaka whispers in the dark room , voice still riddled with sleep and grogginess. 

"Shit. Shit. I'm gonna be so late." You call out , quickly jumping out of bed and stumbling around the room. 

It takes you about 25 minutes to speed through getting dressed in your best skirt suit. 

N'Jadaka sits on the end of the bed putting on his shoes and watching you shuffle around. 

He had offered to drive you there and stay with you and check out the property with you. 

He slows you down by grabbing you by your arms gently and placing a kiss to your lips. 

"Good morning, handsome. Let's go" 

You walk through the living room with Iri and Tika already posted up in the kitchen placing two breakfast burritos in a container to grab and go. 

You grab your things from the counter all while thanking them and jetting towards the door.

"Good luck pooh!" Tika calls after you. 

"Byyyyeeee Dakaaaa" they call out after him

---

"Here it is . These are the apartments. I know they don't look like much now from the outside. But from the pictures it looks great. And they'll be safe and comfortable here-" you babble on to N'Jadaka while you both stand outside of the building where Erik grew up , until you notice two women walking to  a car that clearly wasn't from this area. 

You notice Shuri and your breath hitches in your throat. 

Frozen in your anxiety, the seconds ticked by and it was too late to leave. She looked you dead in the eye and then at N'Jadaka like she had seen a ghost.

She gasped and Nakia followed the eyes before back into the car. 

"SHURI WAIT - PLEASE" you yell out to them but the car was already speeding  away. 

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[skywalkersthelimit]

Okay so I'm super nervous to post this but I wrote this one-shot for the #trikey fandom. Ive had this idea for awhile but I finally got around to writing it. It's based off the song Lips of an angel by Hinder. I think its perfect for Michael and Trevor lol so please let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy!

Honey, why are you calling me so late?

It’s kinda hard to talk right now 

Honey, why are you crying, is everything okay? 

I gotta whisper 'cause I can't be too loud 

Michael woke up to his phone ringing on his bedside table. He knew who it was before he even looked. He didn’t know how or why because it could have been a number of people. He reached over and grabbed the phone. His eyes squinted from the bright light. Trevor. He was both glad and disappointed he was right but he supposed he might have willed it to be. His thoughts had been filled with his crew mate, best friend and sometimes more, but that was before Amanda and the kids. Well that wasn’t entirely true. Every time they went on a job together, they fell into each other as soon as they were alone in their hotel room. Michael just couldn’t help himself. 

It had been a few months since he had seen Trevor though. He tried to put distance between them. He knew that Trevor had a hard time just sleeping together on occasions and understanding Michael had a family to go home to. Michael wanted nothing more than for his friend to be happy but he just couldn’t be the one to give it to him.

He stared as the phone rang and debated answering but he pictured Trevor’s face the last time he had seen him with tears rolling down his face, begging Michael to stay. His heart clenched and he answered.

“Hello?” he whispered. He looked over at Amanda still sleeping. He had to be quiet. He didn't want to wake her and have her find out who he was talking to. He didn’t feel like fighting tonight. 

“Hey." Trevor’s voice rang out on the other side of the phone. 

“Jesus, Trev. Do you know what time it is?” He flinched as the words left his mouth. He didn’t mean to sound upset but he did. 

Trevor laughed dryly. 

“Oh I’m sorry, Princess. Am I interrupting your beauty sleep? I thought I might call my best friend who hasn’t talked to me in months” he said coldly. 

“Trevor, if you want to talk you can call and you can call during the day.” Amanda moved next to him. He had to be quiet. 

“Works both ways. If you wanted to talk you would have called. But you didn’t.” His voice cracked and ended in a broken sob. Michael hated himself a little more. 

“T, why are you crying? Is everything okay?” he whispered. He wished he was there with Trevor right now. He would pull him into his arms and hold him until the tears stopped like he always did. 

“Speak up M. I cant hear you" 

“I have to be quiet or I’ll wake up-" he let his sentence go unfinished, trying to be careful not to set T off. 

“Ah, of course. Wouldn’t want to wake the Mrs. I’ll let you go." He could hear the anger, the jealousy, the sadness, and the pain in Trevor’s voice. 

“No!” he said rather loudly. He snapped over to look at Amanda, who just turned over on her side away from him. He sighed. “Don’t go. Just- Hang on.” He got out of bed quietly and snuck out the room. He grabbed his cigarettes off the counter and sat down on the couch, lighting one up and taking a deep inhale and exhale. He wasn't supposed to smoke in the house, but fuck it. 

Well, my girl's in the next room

Sometimes I wish she was you

I guess we never really moved on

It's really good to hear your voice saying my name

It sounds so sweet

Coming from the lips of an angel

Hearing those words - it makes me weak

And I never wanna say goodbye

But, girl, you make it hard to be faithful

With the lips of an angel

“Now tell me what’s going on, Trev. I can't be too loud. Mandy and the kids are in the other room asleep" he explained. 

“I-I don’t know. I just needed to hear your voice.” Trevor replied quietly, his voice soft and tight like he was trying to stop himself from crying. Michael wondered what had him so upset. He had heard he had a boyfriend of sorts from Lester and apparently they’ve been doing jobs together for L since Michael saw T last. When L told him, he saw red. He got wasted and wound up outside screaming and crying at the night sky. Trevor was his, but he wasn't and he never would be. He didn’t want to but he hoped Trevor was calling to tell him he left that guy and to ask when Michael was coming back to work, to him. There was also a chance Trevor was calling because he was drunk and cranked out. Either due to said guy or something else or even for the hell of it. He might be in trouble or lying somewhere drugged out.

“Is it that guy you’re with?” Michael realized how incredibly jealous he sounded but maybe he was. Maybe he missed being on the road, never staying in one place too long. Maybe he missed the thrill of the job, and maybe he missed looking over in the middle of a heist and grinning at Trevor who was grinning just as hard back. Maybe he missed pulling Trevor into a hard kiss as soon as their hotel door shut and having the most passionate nights of his life, and then falling asleep in his lover’s arms. Maybe he even missed the times they just sat on the bed and talked for hours about any and everything. Maybe sometimes he wished it was Trevor who was in the other room, waiting for him to come back to bed. 

“How-how do you even know about that?” Trevor asked, sounding surprised. 

“Lester.” 

“Of fucking course. Well not that it’s any of your business but he's asleep. It ain’t like he’s my boyfriend or anything. You know I ain’t they settling type. There’s only one exception. Fuck. I miss you, Mikey.” He sobbed. 

“Trev-" 

“It's okay. I understand. It’s just so good to hear your voice, Mikey.” There goes that nickname again. A nickname only Trevor called him. A nickname that sounded so sweet coming from Trevor’s lips. Like an angel. A fallen angel maybe. 

“It's really good to hear your voice too T. Mikey. That’s a name I haven't heard in awhile” he said fondly. 

“What, too good to be called Mikey anymore?” T said annoyed. 

“No, not at all. Although you are the only one who calls me that, but I like it.” He felt his cheeks flush and his heart flutter as he spoke. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Now tell me what’s going on please."

“When are you gonna do a job? It’s been months. We miss you out there. I miss you. I-I need you, Mikey. Please come back to me. I can't stop thinking about you. You haunt me every waking moment, and even in my dreams. Do you dream of me?” Hearing those words made Michael feel weak. He almost told Trevor he was on his way, grabbed his car keys and left without a second thought, but he couldn’t. He wouldn’t leave his children. He might do a few jobs now and then but he wouldn’t choose that life over them. No matter how bad he craved it, craved him.

It's funny that you're calling me tonight

And, yes, I've dreamt of you too

And does he know you're talking to me?

Will it start a fight?

No, I don't think she has a clue

“Trevor, I-I want to be there. You know I do, but I got Tracey and Jimmy to think about, but I think about you too. All the time. Especially lately. It’s funny you called. And yeah, I’ve dreamt of you too T.” He didn’t know why he was being so open about this, about whatever it was between them, but hearing how broken Trevor sounded and how it matched how he felt inside, he knew they both needed to hear it. To hear that Michael cared about him, that he missed Trevor just as much as he missed him. 

“Oh yeah? What’d you dream about, cowboy?” he asked and Michael could picture his thick eyebrows wagging. He laughed, genuinely laughed. Something he hadn’t done since the last time he saw Trevor. 

“It wasn’t like that. Well not all like that.” Now it was Trevor’s turn to laugh. 

“Tell me.” He told Michael. 

“We were in a nice house, our house. We were happy.” He whispered, afraid of the way his dream made him feel. He didn’t want to dream of Trevor, of their future that would never be. He wished he could let Trevor go, but he didn’t think he ever fully would. 

“It doesn’t have to be a dream, Mikey. The kids can be in your life, our life.” Trevor pleaded. Michael had to change the subject before he agreed. 

“What about that guy you've been seeing? Does he know you’re talking to me? Won't he get mad?” 

"I told you he's not my boyfriend. I don't care if he gets mad, but no, he doesn't know I'm talking to you. He doesn't know anything about you except you're the great Michael Townley, expert thief. He actually wants to meet you." Trevor laughed dryly at that. "What about Amanda? Does she know you're talking to me? Does she know anything?" 

Does she know anything, meaning does she know when Michael goes away to work he all but forgets about her? Does she know that his nights with Trevor are filled with more passion than their whole marriage has ever seen? Does she know that Michael's heart will never fully belong to her?

"No, no I don't think she has a clue, Trev." He sighed. The guilt constantly ate at him and he tried so hard to be the husband she deserved, the father his children deserved, but he never would me. He belonged to the game, to Trevor, but it didn't matter. How he felt didn't matter, couldn't matter. He would push his feelings down to the bottom of his heart with a smile. 

"Mikey. I miss you so much. So much it hurts. I can't get you out of head, out of my heart. I've tried drugs and alcohol. I've tried fucking anyone in sight and even getting a wannabe you, but nothing works. I've tried telling myself you're better off with her, but you're not. You're miserable and so am I. Please just do the best thing for you, for us." He begged through sobs. Michael could hardly make out what he was saying.

He felt tears rolling down his face. He felt Trevor's words stab his soul. He tried to drown Trev out too. He drank so much even he was worried. He smoked several packs of cigarettes a day. He went to strip clubs almost every night and almost every time he brought one of the girls to his car or a hotel for a quick fuck. He just wanted to feel numb, to never know the pain of loving someone you could never be with. What was that saying? It's better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. He wasn't sure if he agreed, but inevitably he did. He would feel this pain a thousand times just to know what it was like to love and be loved by this man. What it felt like to lay in his arms as he rubbed his back and kissed his head. He couldn't give that up. He wasn't ready for that. 

"I'm gonna call Lester tomorrow and get a job set up. I'll let you know where to go. Everything will be okay. I'll see you in a few days. I promise. Okay?" 

"Yeah okay, but what about-" Michael cut him off. 

"We'll talk about everything then." He knew he was lying and Trevor probably did too. They both knew he would never be able to leave his family and that pretty little white lies would have to suffice them. 

"Okay Mikey, I'll see you in a few days. And you better show up" he threatened, half jokingly. 

"I'll be there, Trev. And Trev?" 

"Yeah?" 

"Next time call me during the day" he said chuckling. 

"Yes princess. See ya soon Mikey." He said before hanging up. 

Trevor just makes it too hard to be faithful and Michael was weak. 

[marvelxfandoms]

RAMON—H.W

Summary-You and Harry are having a very sentimental talk that eventually leads to more, but Cisco has to ruin it-Takes place during S4

Btw-Sorry if this sucks, its my first ever Harrison Wells fan fiction

(This is also on my Wattpad)

Warnings-Some cursing, partial smut

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Word Count: 2,183

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Y/N's POV

Harry's been working in his workshop for way too long now. It's really starting to bother me, he's not even spending anytime with me ever since Devoe has gotten into our lives. So I decided to talk to Cisco for this.

I walk into his workshop "Cisco!" "Yeah hold up, I'll be right there!" He yelled back. After a few minutes he finally met up with me "Yeah what's happening" "Harry's not spending time with me, but he's always working in his workshop. It's bullshit!" I said. "Y/N I know that Harry can be an asshole, but he has to solve who this Devoe guy is" Cisco says. "It's like he has time to fuck his work and has no time to fuck me" I say in a strong voice. "Well I didn't need to know that, and I'm gonna pretend I never heard that" "Well the more you know" Cisco and I chuckle.

"Tell me how you feel, but without any sexual tensions. Cause I don't want to be ruined again, I've already seen his 'lower regions." Cisco says as he's staring off in the distance with disgust on his face. "When did you ever see his d— oh wait, never mind" I say as I remember the Council of Wells.

"Okay carry on with your rant about Harry not spending time with you" "Harry's always in his workshop, day and night, so even at night I can't be with him so I'm always in bed alone and I'm not used to that. When I try and help him he always saves me off like he's entranced to his work and can't have and bothers." "Mmhmm" "Every Time he's on break he doesn't even bother to say 'hi' or 'hello' to me, and that's what truly bothers me. He never gets any time to spend with me." I say as tears start to form in my eyes. "No don't cry. He will always be like that, he's a stubborn man who will not stop working at any case just to figure out the solution to a problem. If I can do anything to help you I can try and talk to him" Cisco says. "That would be great if he would listen to you" "Ohhhh, believe me he will" Cisco says with a smirk as I chuckle. "Thank you so much Cisco. What can I do to repay you?" "You can tell Harry to stop being a dick to me?" "Ohhh, believe me, it's gonna be hard to persuade him" I say and we both laugh. "So when are you going to talk to him?" "I'm gonna march into his workshop right now and tell him" "Okay, but just be careful he might lash at you" "Don't worry once I bring up your name he'll shut up" "Hahaha, okay, what ever you say. Thank you again Cisco" "Don't worry, I would do anything for my sister from another mother" He says as we hug.

Cisco's POV

As I walk into Harry's workshop I smell a bunch of coffee and a little bit of alcohol in here. "Harry!!! Come out, come out wherever you are!" "Jesus Ramon, warn me when you barge into my workshop!" Harry yells as he throws his coffee on the floor. "Hey, what the hell Harry! Your cleaning up your mess after you do what I tell you to do" "And why would I listen to you Ramon?" "Because it's about  Y/N" As I brought up Y/N's name Harry became instantly worried. "Why? Did something happen to her? Is she hurt? What did you do?!" "She's hurt emotionally, and not because of me, it's because of you."

Harry got up and started marching towards me and I almost pissed myself when I saw his face. He looked totally pissed "Harry I swear I didn't do anything. She's hurt because of y—." I was cut off my Harry choking me against the wall. "Don't you dare blame anything on me, I'll only believe it if it's coming from my Y/N!"

"Harry stop choking Cisco cause he's telling the truth" Y/N's voice came out of no where, but thank god.

Harry finally let go of me "Ramon get out"

"What wh-." "Just get out so we can talk"

"Cisco, listen to him" with that I walk out, but before I left I whispered to Y/N "Just know that he does love you and he will do anything for you" Y/N nodded and then hugged me. After the hugging was done I left, and as I was leaving I could feel Harry's deadly eyes on me.

Your POV

"Oh no, no honey I'm just working too hard on finding who this Devoe bitch is" Harry said. "I know that, but you always ignore me when I try and get near" "I do that so I can get things done quicker and spend time with you when I'm done" Harry said, and at this point I was crying. " I just want to spend time with you" "I know but I have to work so we can find our DeVoe" Harry says. "Harry is DeVoe your husband or something?" "No, bu-" "No buts Harry! I feel like we're drifting apart and I can' take it anymore!" "Love I-" "Harry let me speak!" With that he instantly shut up. "Harry all I want is you and I just want to spend time with my boyfriend during these rough times. I want to spend time with you since your always stressed and angry, and I just want to help you get less stressed and help the team not get affected by your rage fits.  Your the best thing that has ever happened in my life and I want to help you in anyway, and I would do anything to help you." At this point I could see that Harry was sorry and filled with guilt. "Harry I know that all of this isn't your fau-" I was cut off by Harry walking up to me and giving me a warm embrace. "No, no love, it is my fault. I haven't been spending any time with you during these rough times. I should've been thinking more about you and how you were feeling instead of working." He kisses my temple. "I'm so sorry. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" I look up at him and wrap my arms around his neck. "I think there might be one thing you could do to get my forgiveness."

As I say this he smirks at me and starts backing me up into the wall. "Oh love, you know just how to work me up" Every time he spoke he kissed me, and every time he got lower. "I'm" kiss on my lips, "going" kiss on my cheek, "to" kiss on my temple, "show you" kiss on my neck, "how much" kiss on my collarbone, "I love you" and when he kissed my sweet spot I couldn't hold my sounds back. He trailed right back up to my lips and we started to kiss aggressively to see who would win dominance, but we both knew that he would win. "Jump" Harry said in a lust filled voice, and goddamnit he knows how much I love it when he uses that voice. I jump and wrap my legs around his waist and he leads us to his desk in the room. He sweeps off all of his work on his desk like it was all useless and not important. "Harry, your work!" "I don't give one fuck about the work right now cause all I'm focused on right now is you and you only." As he says this he places me on the desk like I'm the most fragile and important thing in the world for him. "I'm gonna make you feel like a fucking queen right now." With this statement he whips my shirt right off of me and almost starts to take off my pants, but I stop him. "Harry stop" He looks at me like a deer in headlights "Why, what happened, what did I do?" He asks me in his nice, nervous, and cute voice that I also love. "It's what you didn't do" I say as I smirk. "What did I not do?" At this, I tugged on his iconic black sweater, and then he finally got the idea. "Ohhh, I see. Well your wish is my command Miss L/N" With this he strips off his sweater and undershirt, and he reveals his god like body. "You like what you see?" He says with an eyebrow raised, since he saw me gawking at his body. "You know I like what I see" I say as he snaps me out of my entrancement. "Good cause I like, wait no, I love what I see." After staring at each other in awe, Harry and I start moving closer to each other's lips, and then I make the move to attack his lips with mine. He then starts to fight back by gaining back his dominance.

I guess we were so lost in each other's embrace and make out session that we didn't hear the footsteps leading to the lab. "Hey Y/N, Harry how are you guys? I hope you guys aren't still mad at each other since I couldn't hear any— OMG MY EYES!" That's all we heard from Cisco. "Oh goddamnit-Ramon what did I tell you about barging into my room without warning me first!"Harry yells as he tries to cover me up from Cisco's view. "I'm sorry I thought you guys were fighting and I wanted to check up on you two so you wouldn't kill each other!" Cisco yells back. "I didn't think that you guys were gonna end up having make up sex!" "Well, you don't know us that well then" I say, and Harry chuckles. Cisco rolls his eyes at us both, "Y/N I expected more out of you and Harry I-" Cisco stops for a little bit. "Harry I just don't know what to expect from you now, and Harry you have your own ROOM and BED to do the nasty in..." "Ramon" Harry tries to cut him off. "....you don't have to fuck on a desk..." "Ramon" "...just to let you know its a lot more comfier to have sex in a bed..." "Ramon!" "What!" Cisco finally stops rambling. "Get out." Harry says in the calmest way possible. "Ok fine, but can you guys not do it in the lab, people walk in here and sometimes work in here" "Cisco, let me tell you something." "Yes?" "We're doing it in the lab cause there's more fun involved" I say to Cisco as I wink at Harry, and I could tell that Harry really wanted Cisco out of the room now. "Y'all are disgusting, why would you tell me thi-" "Ramon. Get. Out." "Well I can see that someone's anx-" "RAMON! OUT!" "Ok, ok. Calm down I'm going, and by the way, you guys better clean up after-" "Cisco get out" I say. "Ohhhh, I see Harry isn't the only horny on-" "Get Out!" Harry and I say in sync. With that Cisco literally fled the room, and yelled down the hall "Y'all better use protection!" Me and Harry chuckle. Harry walked to the door and locked it completely, and then he walked right back to me with lust blown eyes. "So where were we?" Harry said right as he got to me. "Hmmmm, let me think." I said with my hand resting upon my chin, looking like I was thinking. "If I remember you were about to take me on your desk. Am I right?" "That's just what I was thinking" Harry said as he started to kiss me.

With that, all I can say is that we stayed in the lab all day, and we never left that room until the morning.

The End

Welp, here's the first chapter of this Tom Cavanagh/Harrison Wells' x reader fanfic book. It's not that good, but its the best I could do. It would mean a lot to me if u could give me some feedback on this and maybe give me some advice for my future chapters. Btw requests are open for now. Hope u guys enjoyed this chapter, and hope u guys have a great night/day!

[sophygurl]

Hi! I was just browsing through my activity and noticed that after I responded to your ask about ships a while back, you reblogged and shared your thoughts about Spuffy. I'm so glad you were able to read my opinions and understand them, even if you didn't agree with them. I just wanted to stop by and ask what your thoughts and feelings are on Spuffy? I'd love to hear your perspective :)

Oh wooooow, you have no idea how happy you just made me! I feel like I talk about spuffy quite a lot but without ever really saying much of anything because inside of me it’s just a lot of (!!!!!>?>>?!!?!>fjhghhf?!?!?!?!!?) YKWM? Like feels central exploding all over the place and it’s really difficult for me to put into coherent words. 

But I’ve also been wanting and meaning to write some serious spuffy meta and kinda dissect what it all means to me personally, as a survivor, for some time now. And like. Especially with all of this purity culture stuff coming to a head, it feels like a good time to take the time to try and do it because, yea, shit not only doesn’t have to be pure to be helpful - but sometimes the darker stuff IS the Most helpful. 

And I really did appreciate your perspective about the relationship because you talked about the ways in which it did and didn’t work for you without ever shaming anyone for the way it does work for them? And I wish we could all do that more. 

So thank you so much for sending me this ask, and asking for my perspective because sometimes all it takes for me to finally settle down and write something I wanna write anyways is to be asked by someone else to do it! 

This is absolutely gonna get long so have a read more cut.

For context, let me start by saying that I didn’t watch Buffy when it first aired - it was, mmm, I wanna say about 10-11 years ago when I decided to try it out. And while I was watching it, I was also in the midst of doing some heavy duty therapy work on my PTSD stemming from childhood sexual abuse and then some further traumas in my young adulthood that happened because of poor processing of said abuse. I’m not gonna get into details about my personal traumas except for some specific ways in which they relate to the lens in which I watched and processed the relationship between Buffy and Spike. BUT, due to that lens, there very well may be triggery content in this post. 

My experience watching Buffy, in general, started out with me being really unsure what the draw was in season 1 and then slowly getting more involved in the characters and relationships and mythos as the series developed into a more mature and nuanced show. I was really hooked by season five, and season six is my favorite, with seven a close second. 

I liked Buffy, the character, okay in the beginning but it wasn’t until she started really going through and processing her traumas that I started to personally connect to her. So season six was like, my jam. She was raw and stripped down to the nerve, and cycling between like outright rage to pure numbness and just lashing out trying desperately to feel and to make sense of her experiences and I was like - yea, Buffy, same, Same. And then in season seven she starts really contextualizing her trauma and using the pain of it to give herself more power and then sharing that power with others and it was just … fuck, I can’t even begin to tell you what that meant to me. In that last episode, I felt her handing me back my OWN power - like I FELT it - it really … anyway. We’ll get there.

And then there was Spike, who I loved right away. I love me some snarky villains. I love me the bad boy who has hidden depths inside of him. I love the villain who doesn’t … really fit the mold of the other villains in-verse. I love the villain who doesn’t mind working with the heroes if it fits his agenda. Basically, Spike was fictional catnip for me right out of the gate.

I adored Spike and Drusilla together for a lot of reasons, but for Spike to develop beyond just Big Bad, he had to fall out of her orbit, so I was okay with that ending.

On the other hand, I was never into Buffy and Angel. Watching the series as an adult, it just felt creepy to me how this old vampire basically stalked a very innocent-seeming to me teen Buffy. Their romance reminded me of girls I knew who fell for older guys when I was in high school where the older guy seemed sort of dangerous and mysterious and I get the draw from Her perspective - but not necessarily his? I don’t know, I just personally never really bought them being truly in love - they were sort of practice relationships for one another? Her as a young teenager, and him as someone just starting to re-learn humanity. I never Disliked them together… I just never shipped it. The idea of them being one another’s One True Love’s was just sorta meh to me. 

So when Spike started having his crush on Buffy? I was so ready for that. Because it was so silly at first, right? It was not serious. It was creepy and weird and wrong. But in a way that appealed to me. 

How do I explain? I guess, it had to do with all of the reasons that Spike was Not Like All The Other Villains/Vampires. Angel was always different but ONLY because he was cursed with a soul. It was a thing done TO him and when he reverted back to Angelus he was literally a whole different person and did not have any desire to turn back into Angel. When he was Angel, he was all brooding and guilt-ridden and terrified of his other self. 

But Spike was always different just because he was different. This didn’t mean he had a soul or a capacity for love or the ability to be a Good Guy. It just meant he worked a little differently than the other vampires. I truly think he loved and was devoted to Dru. I don’t think she was capable of returning that love in the same way. 

So, anyway, Spike is back and he’s split with Dru because Dru could just … tell … something was off and Spike was wanting to deny that but then suddenly - crush! Not love, not attraction, not lust, not desire - a freaking schoolboy crush.

But of course it was creepy because hello - soulless vampire who has never had a healthy relationship of any kind in his LIFE. But he starts doing these odd things, like wanting to comfort Buffy when he sees that she’s upset and being willing to take care of Dawn when no one else was available and HE doesn’t get it either, but somehow he’s becoming a slightly more decent person because of this weirdass crush? 

IDK, that’s appealing.

And let me clarify. It’s not appealing to me because I see myself in the Good Girl who can make a Bad Boy into a better person. That is never what’s appealed to be about these types of relationships. 

In large part because of my abuse, I see different layers of myself in each character. 

I went through a large portion of my life pretending very hard to be a Good Girl and then when I finally came out of denial about the abuse realized that was because inside I felt like a very Bad Girl and then as I pursued more recovery realized it’s all a lot more complex than that but really I’ve been more of a Decent Person who felt like a Bad Person trying really hard to be a Good Person. I hope that makes sense.

But the point is. I see myself in both the Good and the Bad characters in these sorts of push-pull love-hate dynamic relationships.

And what I love about spuffy, specifically, is that they’re both … both. Eventually. I’m getting ahead of myself. But yes, Spike suddenly wanting to be decent here and there because of his weird developing feelings for Buffy appealed to me - and especially to part of me that feels Bad. I’m Spike in this scenario, not Buffy. 

But I’m also Buffy, being really grossed by this Bad Person’s interest in me. When Buffy throws her money at Spike and says he’s not good enough for her - that’s me hating myself and saying I’m not good enough. But it’s also, strangely, me taking a stand and saying I’m worth better than the ways in which I was treated.

Gods, this whole abuse recovery dichotomy can be so confusing to explain because like. I never abused anyone. But the ugliness I feel inside of myself has to do with what happened to me, and also with what I know people in my family have done to others. So there’s this idea of Badness there. And the idea of there being forgiveness and redemption for that Badness is very very appealing.

And at the same time? There’s this beauty inside of myself that I always thought I was faking but that it turns out - is fucking real and precious and important. And standing up for that broken beautiful part of myself and saying no to being used and abused again is so powerful.

So in that scene? I’m the ugliness in Spike being hated by Buffy but I’m ALSO the powerful beauty in Buffy standing up for herself.

You can maybe see how this all gets even more tangled up the further we go, yea?

So Spike gets chipped and becomes a part of the team - all the while simultaneously reminding them that he’s still a Bad Guy AND slowly becoming a slightly better person because of his interactions with them and his feelings for Buffy. He’s not even close to redeemed, okay, he’s still a villain. He’s just a more and more intriguing villain, an anti-villain, even, eventually.

And then season six. And Buffy comes back. And she’s broken and raw and needing something that her friends cannot give her. She is needing to connect to the darkness inside of herself, and who is waiting there for her? 

And so yea, okay, hatesex is very appealing to me just inandofitself. It’s like double the passion and it’s animalistic and there’s something so sexy and gratifying about two people just using one another with equal force, yk? 

And Spike and Buffy are physically matched perfectly. She can take all her anger and pain and rage out on him without permanently damaging him. And she’s NEVER been able to let loose like that before. Her first time with Angel was a more tender and sweet moment and then - welp - turns out they can’t do the do. And otherwise she’s been with humans who she’s had to hold back with. There was zero holding back with Spike. 

So from Buffy’s perspective, there’s this amazing relief and release and yea, even, empowerment in being able to just freely let herself go in this way. 

From Spike’s point of view, it was about more. And here is where I feel for him because, at this point he’s still not really capable of love in the way we talk about it as being something from a soul. He’s chipped but not soul’d. He has strong feelings for Buffy that no vampire (besides cursed-soul Angel) should be able to have. But it’s not … quite … love. It’s passion and it’s care and it’s wanting and it’s even becoming something like friendship. But it’s not love, much as he thinks it is.

But he does Think it is. And he’s thinking it’s the same for her, but she just can’t admit it, yet. The hatesex to him … is just  … sex. And he fully believes he’s winning her over. And so her constant rejection of him as a fully human person with a soul and feelings guts him - even as he’s still trying to convince himself that he does love her and she does somehow secretly love him back. 

The fact that she keeps using him physically, and also keeps coming to him for emotional support, supports this belief and keeps him from understanding the reality of the situation.

Now, I think I mentioned than when I was watching this for the first time I was in heavy duty therapy mode yea? Well, there was another even heavier duty therapy mode a good tenish years prior when I had first admitted to the abuse I experienced and got really good and fucked up and made some bad personal decisions and here is where some of that comes to play because I saw myself in this scenario - again from both sides.

I am Buffy learning to enjoy the pleasures of my body and sexuality for the first time but also making really bad decisions about who to share that with because I am still so new to processing my trauma.

I am also Spike - longing for something more and better and being told (by myself) that I was not good enough, that I was bad, that I was not a full human person who deserved good things or good relationships.

(There, there, pastme - it does get better)

Back to first-time-Buffy-watching me. And I am enjoying the HECK out of the spuffy sex and I am feeling for poor pining Spike and feeling for Buffy who is hating herself for what she’s doing and also shipping them like WHOA because there is so much about their dynamic that is just sexy and fun and FEELS everywhere. 

But I knew Seeing Red was coming, because I did have a few things spoiled for me just by existing in the world for years without having watched the show yet myself. I really didn’t wanna watch it, or the rest of season six. So I got into a spiral of just watching the earlier parts of the season over and over - specifically the musical and through the 3 episodes of heavy spuffy sex. I did a LOT of processing during this time and then eventually girded myself to watch what I knew was coming. 

And Seeing Red is awful. Traumatic. Triggering. Terrible. But also, like, gods, did it make sense for where these two characters were at this point in time? I didn’t feel like it was contrived or somehow put in just for the heck of it. It made sense in the narrative. Spike legitimately just did not get it. He did not realize he was attempting rape until … finally … he did. 

And the horror of that, the horror of realizing that he almost did that to the ONE person in the world that he has ever cared that much about? Broke him. Sent him off on a magical quest to get his fucking soul back.

No one did that. Even Angel was Cursed with his soul, right? No vampire ever wanted to get their soul back - even had enough non-ensouled feelings to have the ability to want such a thing. Not to mention going through the trials of actually getting it back.

Season seven Spike is such a different beast. He’s messed up from the soul-thing, but I honestly believe Most of his messed-up-ness came from what The First was doing to/through him. Because … gods, okay.

When Spike goes through the flashbacks and recognizes what his trigger is? (Like the show legit uses PTSD terminology here - it was a Trigger) He processes his Own old traumas and he is able to tell Robin basically - fuck it, I know who I am. I know I did terrible things without my soul, but I can’t and won’t beat myself up for that (for example the way Angel does) because it wasn’t entirely my fault and all I can control now is who I am now and what I do now.

Now THAT spoke to me as a trauma survivor. Stop hanging on to all of this so-called badness inside, forgive yourself, and move on. WOW. Fucking powerful. 

And what he DOES choose to do is to be there for Buffy in any way she will allow him to.

Ensouled Spike is no longer creeping around her or making weird assumptions about her or trying to Get something From her. Ensouled Spike defends her when others attack. Ensouled Spike holds her all night when she needs it and gives her pep talks and asks what he can do to help and accepts when he can’t help and just stands there quietly willing to do battle With her. 

I just … phew… that makes me emotional. 

Because, again, I look back at some of those dysfunctional relationships I got into in my early 20′s and like. None of those fuckers would have done anything like that. 

And my attraction to the Fictional Bad Boy with a Hidden Heart of Gold was never about expecting any of them to. I was with them, unconsciously or even some cases consciously, on purpose to punish myself or to work out past traumas with or just to Feel Something. I never expected or even necessarily wanted deep love from them.

So, here’s the thing. None of those fuckers would have done anything like that for me. Nor I them. 

So Spike slowly gaining his redemption through his willingness to become a better person because of his love of Buffy? Fucking spoke to me.

And Buffy slowly accepting the darker parts of herself through her willingness to let Spike into her orbit because of her feelings for him? Fucking yes. 

And when she hands him the - shit it’s been a long time - that medallion meant for a champion? And he doesn’t think he’s worthy, but she says she knows he is. Fuck!!! That is ME accepting ME, okay? All of myself, the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful, the messed up and the slowly healing. All of it. 

And when he sacrifices himself in the end??? When that’s how she’s finally able to defeat The First? All that power sharing with all of the other women was *chefkiss* but it also took Spike. Spike who stormed on the scene in season two with snark and a twisted sense of love and no desire to ever be a hero? That Spike!? Sacrificing himself and STILL NOT BELIEVING BUFFY LOVES HIM. 

Because by then, let’s be clear, she did. Maybe not the same way he loved her, but she did love him. And he doesn’t believe it, can’t believe himself worthy of that love. But he sacrifices himself ANYway?

THAT Spike? Is no longer asking anything in return. He gives all of himself and won’t even accept her statement of love in return. “No, you don’t. But thanks for saying it anyway.” Just AUGJH?!? You know??? 

That was me … redeeming me … for me…. 

So anyway. 

I just want to add that AS I WAS WRITING THIS OUT, I got another ask in my inbox stating “People who like problematic or villainous characters are apologist for shitty people and should rethink their life because they’re shitty people.”

And this is the exact WRONG time to come for me like this because I just poured out my entire traumatized abuse surviving soul into the internet to explain why watching a problematic villain evolve and learn to do better helped ME to contextualize and process my fucking trauma. So fuck you. People who write anonymous hate without knowing the full story are being shitty and should rethink their actions because they’re shitting on actual REAL LIFE COMPLEX INDIVIDUAL PEOPLE. 

The end. 

[chocolatemillkk]

Call me Out (CM)

"Soo what are we doing again?" I ask for the fifth time, hugging my arms to my chest. It was an unusually cool evening in LA and although my bottom half was covered appropriately in a pair of jeans, I had on only a tube top leaving my bare arms covered in goosebumps.

"Well Rick forgot his ID and so did Omar and Anth's still on the damn phone." My friend sighs. "So I don't know!"

"Just go to the club without us!" Rick says for the millionth time and I seriously wonder why we didn't do just that. "We'll come next time."

"The whole point was to go together since we've all finally got fake IDs." Omar pouts. "They can go if they want. But-"

"We could go to one of those all-age clubs-"

"No! No, those suck-"

"I have an idea." My friends all pause at the new voice. It was Anth's friend Conor who he introduced us to earlier that evening. We'd all said hello and included him in the group without a question even though he was obviously British and not from around here. Which we all secretly thought was really cool...but were just too LA to admit. But Conor hadn't gone unnoticed for me-catching my eye and sending my heart racing. Not only because he had the same accent as my favourite movie ever made at the time (Bridget Jone's Diary) but he was cute in a way that wasn't intimidating. "Those of us with ID can get the beer and we can find some place to hang out." Conor licks his lips. "We can still make the most of the night that way."

All eyes are on the group newbie until Omar speaks up, obviously relieved from his fomo: "You're genius. Let's do that."

"Okay, my basement's empty we can head there. So how about Y/N goes and..." Malia stares at our newcomer for an uncomfortable second as she blanks on his name.

"Conor." I cut in. "Conor and I will go."

At the sound of his name, Conor looks up sharply at who said it. I feel myself blushing clumsily as I try not to look as excited as I felt but I couldn't help it! I would finally get some time alone to get to know my sudden new crush.

Since the closest liquor store was right up the street, Conor and I head off and tell the gang we would meet them at Malia's. As we walk, I'm nervous. I fold my arms into myself, and then unfold them, and fold them again before Conor offers his leather jacket.

"Oh I'm fine," I say politely. Damn. I wasn't fine in any way. But I couldn't just accept his-

"No take it. I'm warm." Conor begins stripping the jacket off before I could politely decline again. "I've got a jumper underneath anyway."

"A jumper?" I ask, looking at the sweatshirt he wore underneath and back up at his face.

"Yeah," he picks the fabric up to show me. "A jumper?"

I take the jacket from him and eagerly drape it over my shoulders; its leftover warmth blankets my body. "Is that like, a British thing?" I ask, intrigued and still staring at him, forgetting we should be continuing our walk instead of standing under the street lamp.

"I don't know...I guess?" Conor seems just as nervous as me as he shoves his hands into his pocket. I tug the jacket closer around my body which catches his attention, his eyes roaming all over me. I sense a shift in him, almost unnoticeable except in the way that he finally meets my gaze.

"You've got really nice eyes," he says and then immediately looks away.

"Thanks," I laugh nervously. "You've got a really toasty jacket."

He looks back up, his cheeks a slight pink under the sodium lights, and his tensed face melts into a smile that warms me up from the inside. He has a playful glint as he tugs at the jacket's lapel, "I'm a hot guy-didn't I already say?"

He was hot. But I don't stroke his ego. I turn away instead, continuing again on our trek to the store, calling out behind me. "If I remember correctly the only thing you said was you were warm!"

He laug loudly into the night and the ice between us. We begin talking and asking about the other, greedily tearing up the rare time alone, wanting to know each other as well as we could before we had to return to our group. By the time we get into the liquor store I've told him about growing up in LA, how I hated school, and how my brother drove me crazy and he's told me about the town he's from, his younger brother and sister, and why he was in LA--to work on music. And I was impressed, he was only my age.

"So are you any good?" I ask him as we track down the aisle with the cheaper beer. We're the only ones inside so we try not to draw too much attention.

"No. Not yet," he laughs and his face does the squinty thing I'd started to find adorable. I stare at him as he leans down and picks up two cases.

"Well will you let me hear it? When it is good?" I ask seriously.

He straightens up and turns to me, nodding his head vigorously. "Yeah," he answers, his voice suddenly serious. "I will."

Two Years Later: "I've heard it then," I'm on the phone with Conor as I look out the taxi window into the crowds of tourists. I was on my way to my boyfriend's place and the radio surprised me with a familiar voice. "Your song just came on the radio and I've finally heard it!"

"I was on the radio?" Conor asks from the other side of the world. I wished he was here to hear it with me so I could see his reaction myself. "You heard me in LA?"

"I'm in a taxi," I say. "And I'd recognise your stupid voice anywhere."

"And?" Conor asks, not hiding his excitement at all.

"It's still not good-I told you to only show me when-"

"Shut up!" Conor shouts and I have to move the phone away slightly as his belly-laugh emenates from the phone. "You're a little shit!"

"No!" I insist. "You're shit!"

"Don't say that," Conor's humour is slowly leaking out of his voice and I decide I'd taken the joke far enough.

"It’s-as you would call it-bloody amazing! I was totally kidding. The song. Is. Amazing."

"Really?" Conor asks, his excitement apparent again.

"Yes!" I shout. "You should be so proud of yourself! Soon you'll be as big as Beiber!"

We go back and forth as he shies from the compliments and finally accepts them. We move onto the cliffnotes version of life updates before I reach my destination and tell him I had to go. This was the way it had been with Conor and I over the two years we'd known the other. After an intense first time hanging out, we'd eased up and stuck to the safe option of being good friends. The constant distance between us and the fact that we shared a mutual friend group, prevented us from hooking up-if things went south, it would be very awkward. Plus, we were both busy figuring out our own futures. Mine, currently, was going to school so I could get into acting.

But I still couldn't control my erratic heartbeat whenever I spotted Conor in LA. There was an undeniable attraction, made stronger with the easy chemistry we had. He had a pull on me none of my other crushes or boyfriends ever had. But after a few weeks every time, I had to let Conor go back home to London and as painful as it was each time, it would be made more painful if we were anything more than friends. So I simply chalked it up to a juvenile crush and forced myself onwards.

One Year Later: "Y/N..." Conor pulls his pants onto his hips and secures it with a belt. "I don't know what to-"

"It's fine," I laugh like I thought everything that had happened over the last 10 hours was all one big joke. But my hands shake under the covers and I have a hard time looking him in the eye.

I had turned 21 yesterday and my boyfriend dumped me the morning of because I was being too "clingy”. He was leaving in the afternoon, flying out across the country for some modelling jobs he'd landed and I was mildly upset he had to leave on my birthday. Meanwhile, Conor suprised me at my apartment, completely oblivious, with birthday champagne and a balloon he'd stuck a picture of his face on. It was his only free night because he had to fly out the next morning.

But he'd found me: mascara on my cheeks, crumpled pyjamas, and a fistful of tissues. He sat and listened so patiently before helping me clean up. Once I'd cried it out however, the inevitable happened. We popped the champagne, swore at my ex, drank the bottle between us, and then reached for each other. Because of loneliness or our long history, we ended up in bed. My bed. And I wish I hadn't drank so much so I could remember even half of it but as soon as I woke up I knew I fucked up. I was simultaneously heartbroken over my ex and absolutely gutted that my first time with Conor was under circumstances like this.

"You were comforting me. We're both adults now and we made an adult decision right? It's fine." I sit up, making sure the blankets were wrapped tight around my torso. Conor looks at me hesitantly, his hands dropping to the side and he looks just as gutted. We weren't supposed to let this happen. Not like this. We knew eventually we would sleep together with all the sexual tension we had between us-but never ever like this. This felt cheap...we could barely even remember it.

"So you're okay I have to go again?" Conor asks slowly.

"I'm fine. You have a life to go back to." I say more confidently than I felt-I didn't want to be clingy again. And what would I even say if I wasn't okay? It was a stupid question to ask. "And my shift starts in a couple hours anyway-acting doesn't pay the bills!"

Conor throws his shirt on before sitting beside me. He looks down at my hands clasped around the covers and then my collar where the pendant I always wore rests. He picks it up and rubs it like I usually did when I was nervous. It was hard to reconcile the person Conor put on in public to this gentler version of him in my bedroom. "Don't be so hard on yourself. I'll see you on the big screen soon enough."

"You'll only see me when I'm good enough," I give him a wry smile, calling him out. He drops the necklace, his hand curving around the back of my neck. For a split second I think he was maybe going to kiss me again but he kisses my forehead instead. I close my eyes, stretching the brief millisecond into an hour, or two, or five. I create some alternate timeline where I can do this all over, so that when Conor kisses my forehead it doesn't feel cheap with regret and stink of pity.

Fourteen Months Later: "It's nothing!" I pull my hand out of Malia's grip but she grabs my hand again.

"You call that a promise ring?" She asks skeptically of the diamond ring my boyfriend had gifted me yesterday evening.

"Promise ring?" Anth asks as he comes back with Conor who'd arrived late-a bad habit we'd all gotten used to. I try to stuff my hand back into my hoodie but Conor catches the light glinting off the diamond. I don't want to see his expression but I can't help but watch as it falls, a look of betrayal settling in. It wasn't my fault-not really. Conor and I kept up a false pretense of being friendly after the last time we saw each other but we unravelled quickly the longer we went without addressing it. How could we be the same when we suddenly carried so much baggage?

Our relationship suffered. Meanwhile, my boyfriend came back to LA on his knees begging for forgiveness. He had been stressed out about his shoots and he regretted our breakup as soon as he'd landed at JFK. So I kept my own regret from that night to myself and taken him back. A month in and we'd moved to New York for the year where he modelled and I miraculously landed a very small Broadway part. When we moved back, he'd given me the promise ring. That was last night. Malia messaged me this morning to tell me the gang was in town and we were meeting up again. I didn't realise Conor would be there too. Our conversations had fizzled out once he realised I’d moved to New York with my boyfriend.

"Y/N's settling down," Anth teases. "Y/B/N is making a wife out of you!"

"It's not an engagement ring guys!" I insist but it sounds false even to me. It was supposed to be one. But the look of horror on my face when my boyfriend got on one knee at the beach had him stuttering and then insisting it was just a promise ring. So I had accepted like the coward I was because I was too scared to be on my own again. Three years of our relationship and Anth was right-I was settling.

"That's a big ass diamond," Conor jokes but it has a sharp edge to it. "Good for you. So uh-I'm getting a drink."

When I track Conor down, away from the group, he's stony faced.

"It's been a while." I say, feeling like that first night we met when I didn't know how to talk to him.

"Yeah," his eyes flick down to my hand. "A lot's happened it seems."

"Con-" I try.

"I'm alright." Conor cuts me off.

"No. You're not." I call him out.

He clenches his jaw, glancing at me and then sighing. "I know we fucked up Y/N but why did we just stop talking? You're bloody engaged and why am I only finding out now? I've never even met your boyfriend!"

"It-I know-it's complicated. We...complicated things!"

"It shouldn't be complicated! It was just sex!" Conor shouts. "It wasn't complicated! I'm still your friend!"

"Right..." I look down and try to blink away the sudden tears. That all it was to him? "Right. Yeah of course...obviously-duh! It was! I just got...I was unsure! I didn't know what you thought about it. But I'm cool if you are. We're still friends?"

"Yes we're still fucking friends!" Conor is instantly a ball of sunshine as we slip off our past like an oversized, stuffy jacket. I grab his hand and intertwine our fingers, trying to toss out the confused emotions I was feeling. Conor squeezes my hand and I snap out of my thoughts to his smiling face and when he looks at me it feels like that night, I first saw him smiling under sodium lights. When we wouldn't even know this was how we would turn out. I wish I could go back then. Maybe tell Y/N to keep things simple.

As his mouth moves to tell me something, I can’t focus as my head buzzes with the words he'd said earlier. But maybe it's better this way, I think. I didn't want to end up hating Conor, or be hurt by him, when I cared for him this much. I would just have to see it his way, I decide. Just sex. Only friends. "-always your friend."

One Year Later: "Happy birthday!" I shout at Conor. He was in LA for his 24th and the party was massive. Like this-many-people-could-never-fit-in-my-house massive. "Look at you! You're so spoiled now!"

Conor crushes me against him-it had been a good six months since I'd seen him. I was travelling all over for a movie I'd gotten a small role in and barely had time to see friends let alone Conor. I missed his energy. And he was super famous now too. Somewhere between seeing him last on New Year's, breaking up with my boyfriend and moving out, auditioning like crazy, and finding a role-Conor had blown up online and my heart swelled every time I saw his ad or his music somewhere. Despite our messy mishap, I'd realigned myself to realise Conor and I could only ever be friends.

"I love your jumper," I say-the term an inside joke by now.

"This is actually a hoodie." Conor teases.

"Fuck I can never get the terminology right!" I laugh and wrap my arms around him again, his "hoodie" a snug fabric to rest my head on.

"Y/N." Conor says seriously so I look at him again, concerned. "Y/N I-I think I'm finally good!" Conor shouts in my ear and when I give him a questioning look he explains. "My music! I think it's finally good enough!"

"Oh Conor," I can't help but grab his face between my hands and squish his cheeks. "It was always good enough!"

Conor laughs causing his face between my hands to morph oddly so I let go. "You're not as much of a bitch as you used to be!"

"Watch your mouth!" I pull his hood over his head and continue tugging it over his face until he apologizes between laughter. When I let go, he takes off the hood and wraps his arm around my shoulder. We stay that way for the rest of the night as he introduces me to everyone we meet. They all assume I'm his girlfriend, joking with me that I should watch out. And I didn't blame them with the way Conor's hand was always on my shoulder or my waist, my hips, touching my hair, leaning in to say something in my ear. I crave his touch every time I don't have it and by the end of the night, I feel drunk on desire more than any of the cocktails I'd had. So when Conor looks at me with a question in his eyes at the end of the night, I don’t call him out. I simply take his hand and go back home with him. Just sex. Only friends. Always friends.

Eighteen Months Later: Since Conor's 24th, we'd made a routine. Unless one of us were in a relationship, every time Conor was in LA, he would stop by. We'd catch up on life and then end up in bed for however long he was here for.

"I'm only in LA for two week." He would say. Or "I go to New York next week." Or "I have a flight on Thursday for Dubai."

It wasn't permanent, he meant to remind me. It wasn't a relationship. It was just sex. And we were just friends. And this was just a bad habit. Or a good habit-was there such a thing? I always looked forward to it. It felt like we were each other's safe space, a secret the other held close to their chest. Minus the emotional attachments of course. It happened so often like this that I'd forgotten I ever wanted more. Being like this actually gave us more time to catch up on every detail of each other’s lives. We opened up about our insecurities, our goals, and all our shared memories. When Conor was staying longer he would work on things in the same room I was in or he would help me practice lines and we created small bubbles in time where everything was blissful between us as long as we were together. It was harder some days than others like when I wanted to kiss him in public or gush to my friends about him-but it was worth it to be close again.

Months Later: I had my first anxiety attack that morning. I didn't even realise I was having it until my knees hit the carpet and I tried to look up at the time.

I had a big audition that afternoon for a children's movie. My agent was so sure I was going to get it-she'd talked me up to every friend she had in high places and knew the company hiring so I knew I had it in the bag yet a movie on such a scale was terrifying. Conor had told me he was coming over after auditions to see how it went and I was oddly nervous to see him too-I'd gotten out of a short relationship so it had been a while since Conor and I got together. And then my mom called me worried about my brother who'd been making all the wrong choices in life as of of late which kept running through my mind. So when my agent called to tell me they wanted a Skype interview now, I knew that usually meant it was a courtesy interview and they didn't actually want me. I did the interview with a really bad connection, my anxiety heightening with every scene looking at their impassive expressions. As soon as it ended, I ignored my agen't phone call and suddenly found it hard to breath, my vision narrowing as everything looked off, and the room tilted around me. I fell to my knees and located my phone, calling the only person I knew who'd understand: Conor.

By the time he arrived, I had managed to calm down but I still couldn't take a deep breath nor could I talk in full sentences. Conor squeezed my hands and helped ground me until I could focus and then he'd gathered me in his arms so carefully, so lovingly, that it scared me enough to start crying. He mistook this for being sad about not getting the part and helped me to bed, setting up his laptop beside me. I didn't correct him, falling asleep as I felt exhausted, and awakening to a vibrating hum.

I don't open my eyes, anxiety clutching my chest as I remembered where I was and what had happened. But the humming beside me helped, the dread slowly unravelling it's hold on me. When I do open my eyes Conor's concentrated on the screen as he hums the same few lines again and again. And the tenderness with which I felt towards him sends me tipping into the panic zone so I get up and yank the covers off. I couldn't do this. We said we wouldn't.

"Hey you're up," Conor looks at me. "I'm gonna hum something does it sound like something you've already heard or is it-"

"You have to go." I say abruptly and he stops talking immediately. "I need to be alone Conor please go. Now."

He stays for a heartbeat before closing his screen and getting out of bed. His mouth opens to say something but he looks at me and closes it, bowing his head and moving out the door. I listen as he leaves and take a deep ragged breath. I felt wild, like a frantic ball of confused energy was buzzing within me like a pinball machine. Like a panic attack hangover and as soon as Conor goes I want him back. I make it so far to the front door when I retreat until my back hits the wall. What was I doing? But I craved the comfort of his touch and it urged me to call him back. I couldn’t though. He wasn’t my boyfriend, I couldn’t keep doing this. But the sudden sound of a knock at the door echos my pounding heartbeat.

I carefully open it to Conor, running his fingers through his hair. I barely register what he says; opening the door wider, just wanting him back in. He drops his bag to the floor as he closes the door behind him. In an instant, his hand finds my waist, our foreheads touch, our eyes locked. It felt like we were the center of a volcano of passion and desire, boiling as his hand tightens on my waist, bubbling as my hand slips around the the base of his neck, simmering and leaking as I close my eyes and he crashes his lips into mine.

I can't remember what happens next-not chronologically. We're bumping into walls and shedding the day, as well as our clothes, and as we ease into the sheets the volcano bursts with hot molten lava, destroying anything that was ever left of us before.

I must have nodded off again right after because I wake to Conor in bed facing me. Behind him, my window shows streaks of pinks in the sky as day goes down to dusk. Conor's eyes are watching me carefully, his expression unreadable as he watches me watch him. I trace the bridge of his nose to distract him but he continues staring, something budding in the way he looks at me. It was scaring me and I tell him so.

Yet Conor doesn’t take his eyes off of me, his thumb brushing my cheek and my breath catches as I realise why I was so scared. His eyes hold no trace of its usual playful spark. Instead they're unguarded and clear as day with what he was thinking. Shit. This was it. This was the end. We'd both fallen. Made this something important.

"When are you leaving LA?" I ask, almost begging him to reply with a deadline to our romance for some sort of normalcy. The only way this worked was when he put a time stamp for us to stop waking up in each other's arms. Even if it was one month or one week we would have the most fun as the end date was our safety net.

But when he shrugs and continues to gaze at me, my heart feels like it would burst from my chest. And it practically does as all the hopes I ever ignored of Conor and I as something more than friends, all the fantasies I ever had of Conor wanting more with me, the thoughts I suppressed before they could even manifest-shoving them into a dark corner of my mind-roll forward and flash before me. This was Conor-the first person I think I ever fell in love with. And I can admit it to myself now, looking at him-at us, like this. This was Conor-how could I have ever thought we could be anything but in love in the end? So I remove Conor's hand from my face and hold it to my chest, willingly showing him how much I was feeling in the moment. "I feel it now, can you feel it too?" Conor takes my other hand with his free hand and places it against his own palpitations. My own races faster; was this our demise?

"I feel it too." Conor answers slowly.

"But this is exactly what we said we wouldn't do." I remind him. What he said we wouldn't do. What we weren't.

"What was that exactly?" Conor asks me and his mouth flicks up in a slow smile as the playfulness returns in the blink of an eye. He's weightless as he rolls over me and brings his lips down in a kiss so tender, I never realised he had it in him. When he moves away, he rests his forehead against mine, his lips a hair's breadth away from my own. The look he gives me is a challenge, a dare like we would give when we were younger. His brown eyes looking into mine are daring me just one simple thing:

Call me out.

[iforcedabot-blog]

I Forced a Bot To Watch Every TNG and DS9 Episode and Write One of Its Own

You may have seen “I forced a bot to watch” posts where someone claims to have “forced a bot” to read or watch hours of video and written it’s own script. Those weren’t real but in recent history it has become possible to do it for real in a pretty convincing way with OpenAI’s GPT-2 system. This is an unbroken, unedited sample of GPT-2 ‘fine-tuned’ on all the TNG and DS9 scripts. Note that television scripts have have distinct formatting and style and all of that is copied perfectly by the bot. It even *almost* gets understands page numbers (in the first example – 28, 28, 28A).

28   EXT. PLAZA/SURFACE - DAY (OPTICAL)    Data and Worf as before.                    DATA                (puzzled)            You left him there? He left him            there?                    WORF            Yes. He had been there for            hours... then decided that I            was going to kill him.    Data frowns, he can't figure out how to phrase what    he did...                    DATA            I do not understand.                    WORF            You knew?                    DATA            I was afraid.    They exchange a look... Data thinking quickly, is    back to the source...                    DATA                (continuing)            I could have programmed some            medical bank monitors to monitor you            for a pulse response when you            could enter Klingon memory.                    WORF            We would have --        STAR TREK: "The House... " - REV. 08/10/94 - ACT FOUR       45. 28   CONTINUED:                    DATA            But I was afraid that it would            disrupt my memory.                    PICARD            I'll tell you what I have to do.    They look at him and then Picard EXITS. Data sits in    command.                                           CUT TO: 28A  INT. WORF'S QUARTERS    The room is DARK and distant. Worf is struggling to    regain his senses as Picard ENTERS.                    WORF            Captain... everything I saw is            gone... everything.    Worf regards him for a moment... then he starts to fight    it off... he stops in surprise... he doesn't know how    all this is going to impact his relationship with    him... he's uncertain what to do... he glances at the    wall panel and frowns, surprised at the way he sees    Worf... he glances around the room and tries to    find a way to fight it off-kilter... it's pretty    night... Worf hits the wall panel and it OFF.                    WORF            I was... heading somewhere.                    PICARD            Worf... what's the matter?    Worf decides to break for a moment... he EXITS.

That was one the first scenes I generated that impressed me, though it cheats a bit with by being mysterious enough that it’s hard to rate how coherent it is. But you could almost see as one of the more moody and experimental character-focused episodes in Season 7 TNG. Earlier networks could copy the formatting of a TV script but they totally fell apart when you tried to actually understand the content. Even which characters were present in a scene did not stay consistent from line to line. GPT-2 handles this amazingly keeping track of not just characters but subject of conversation in a scene.

Here are some more samples chosen mostly for the humor:

                  DAX            I think we're lucky this was            just a bad batch of            equipment.                    KIRA            I'm glad you think that.                    DAX            I'm glad we're lucky.                    KIRA            Okay.  I'm going to let you use            the Bajoran storage bin to backup            your data on this trip.    And with that, Kira heads off down the Corridor.  We    HOLD on a thoughtful Dax. 19   INT. OPS    Kira and Dax EXIT the turbolift, followed by Sisko, who    goes to the Transporter Room in frustration.             DEEP SPACE: "The Wire" - 03/01/94 - ACT ONE            12. 19   CONTINUED:                    KIRA            It's not working.                    DAX            I'm having trouble retuning the            transceiver.  The adaptors            won't work.                    KIRA            Maybe they should replace us by            rentals.                    DAX            With what?                    KIRA            With your arms.                    DAX            With your hands.                    KIRA            Your arms.                    DAX            You're lifting your arms.                    KIRA            My arms.                    DAX                (the hurtiest)            Your arms.  They're my hands.    Kira takes a beat, looks down at her arms for a moment.                    KIRA            They're your hands.                (a beat)            You know what I see when I get            this...                    DAX                (laughing and crying)            Kira, you never told anyone about            your arms.             DEEP SPACE: "The Wire" - 03/01/94 - ACT ONE            13. 19   CONTINUED: (2)                    KIRA            When you get to the wormhole, you            should see them grow into shape-            shifters.  And you'd be right...            because their arms are like that...            closer than you can get.  They            grip off your arm.  Bad dreams.                    DAX            I thought you weren't going to talk            about me.                    KIRA            I told myself I was not.  But when            the time comes... I want to figure            out what we're doing and what we            are.  I always figure it out.    Dax looks at her own hands.  Kira's too fast for her    good measure.                    KIRA            I'm holding all the cards.  I'm            playing them all.  I'm a prisoner            in here.  I can't be happier.                    DAX            You seem like you've got a lot.                    KIRA            You have me all.    Kira takes one last look at her hands.  Kira can't help    her enthusiasm.  Her hand.  Kira takes another step toward the    desk.                    KIRA            You're not going to hurt me.                    DAX            You're not.  And that's a            good thing.

This is from a later batch where I stripped out some of the very repetitive content in the scripts before training — mostly headers and footers that repeat the exact same information every page. Another sample that was weirdly hands and arms themed:

42   INT. ENGINEERING    Geordi and Data at their respective consoles.                    GEORDI            We're ready when you are, Data.                    DATA            I will prepare enough data for your            desire, Commander.                    GEORDI            Good. Data, what was the vessel            in which the shuttle was            launched?                    DATA            The vessel was slightly more            complex than the starship I            estimate, sir. It chose a            specific set of coordinates to            target the specific            nodes on the Enterprise-D.                    GEORDI            And it didn't work. That's            your fault, Data.                    DATA            I fault is very fault, sir.            I should have realized that.                    GEORDI            If you had, the Enterprise-C            could have taken out a few more            nodes...                    DATA            I do not believe we could have             survived the attempt on the            shuttle, sir.       STAR TREK: "The Loss" - REV. 10/10/90 - ACT FOUR       51. 42   CONTINUED:                    GEORDI            I know Data, it would have been            difficult for you to break into            hands and legs and grab a few            nodes... I've never run into a            shuttle in my life that didn't            get that lucky.    Geordi looks down at his hands and arms, frowning.                    GEORDI            What are you so angry about?                    DATA            My heart... and possibly my entire            psychology.                    GEORDI            That's not good.                    DATA            I am angry that Starfleet has            let you down, Commander.                    GEORDI            I know... but I was relieved            that no one tried to destroy            my shuttle.

INT. DATA'S QUARTERS    Data, still in his Starfleet uniform, is sitting at a desk    working at the computer. The door CHIMES.                    DATA            Enter.    The door OPENS and Geordi ENTERS.                    GEORDI            Data, what are you doing here?                    DATA                (stands)            This is my quarters.    He looks at the desk for a beat, then EXITS.                    DATA                (continuing)            You are here to examine my            computer.                    GEORDI            Computer, is there anything I can            do about your...            computer?                    DATA            Computer, are you aware of what I            have just said?                    GEORDI                (nods)            In case you're wondering... I've            told you something before...                    DATA            I have never spoken to my computer            before.                    GEORDI            That can't possibly be the case...    Data shakes his head.                    DATA            I have been trying, but I            have been unable.                    GEORDI            Why?                    DATA            I have been trying for over            three, four nights.                    GEORDI            It must be a pretty long night.                    DATA            As long as it is not.                    GEORDI            And what does it feel like?                    DATA            I have been experiencing a            sustained, transient, and            unsteady increase in the            emotional neurotransmitter-like            activity in my cerebral cortex.            The same as if I were completely            offered a cup of tea, or a            coffee, or an air horn.                    GEORDI            That sounds like someone who            has been through a lot.    Data nods.

I experimented with mixing other TV show scripts, the complete set of Frasier in this case. GPT-2 learns very quickly never to mix characters and language from the shows — too well, I wish it would mix them! But I swear the samples trained with some Frasier feel more like a sitcom:

ANGLE ON MAIN VIEWER (OPTICAL)

ANGLE ON MAIN VIEWER (OPTICAL)    Riker's face...                    RIKER            Captain, I am detecting a Class-M            planet with high radiation            unaffected by the sun.                    PICARD            Which planet did you detect?                    RIKER            Class-M.                (beat)            I'm sure it looked like a Class-            M planet...                (beat)            What is it?                    PICARD            A small planet with low surface            radiation.                    RIKER                (laughs)            Not class-M.

Here’s another one that feels more like a sitcom, in particular, the repeated dialog lines are something I see a lot in the post-Frasier samples.

======== SAMPLE 15 ========                    KIRA                (to Dax, explaining)            Dax, we were just talking about you.              I realize you're upset about            me, but I've always looked            good in a tuxedo.                    DAX            I don't look good in a tuxedo.              I've always looked good in a            clutch, Benjamin.  And I'm glad to            say, I haven't seen you since I left            the homeworld.                    KIRA                (smiles)            I know you're upset, but I've            always looked good in a chiffo            uniform.                    DAX            And I'm glad to see you've never worn            it anymore.                    KIRA            I've never looked good in a chiffo            uniform.                    DAX            Well, I've seen you look good in            it all... when you're wearing            anyone else's tux.                    KIRA                (smiles)            I never look good in a chiffo            uniform.                    DAX                (smiles)            I'm glad you said you were going to            be happy at the Bajoran wedding.                    KIRA                (smiles)            I'm glad you said that.    Dax smiles and they walk off.                    DAX                (re: the wedding)            I suppose I'll have to mention it            to someone.                    KIRA            I'm not planning to.                    DAX            Who's next?                    KIRA            My husband.                (a beat)            I guess he'll be staying with us            this year.                    DAX            He'll probably be staying with us            this year.                    KIRA            I know.  I just got here last            night.                    DAX            I mean it's just a question of...            who?                    KIRA                (beat)            I'm still not sure.  I've got a            surprise planned for the next few            weeks.  Besides, it sounds like            somebody's going to need a place to            keep me warm.                    DAX            I'm sure they will.                    KIRA            I'm sure they will.                    DAX            Now what about you... are you sure            you don't want to stay with me for            a while?                    KIRA                (re: the wedding)            I have a job to do... I'm a            pretty gal...                    DAX                (reacts)            I hear you're married...                    KIRA            That's right.                    DAX            And what about Jake?                    KIRA            He's leaving Starfleet.                    DAX            A few weeks ago he was sent back            to the Institute.                    KIRA                (reacts)            He's gone?                    DAX            He's been living on the station            all his life...                    KIRA                (beat)   ======== SAMPLE 16 ========

This sample is as long as you can get right now the limit on the output is about 1000 words in the tiny version of GPT-2 that OpenAI let’s us play with. It would still be possible to create an entire script by taking the output from one sample and using it a ‘prompt’ to generate the next sample, over and over until you have a complete script. Since the scripts do clear structure like page and act numbers it should eventually get to ACT 5 or stick an ending on there. Maybe a project for the future.

[franeridart]

Can we also talk about how Bakugou went from "weird haired guy" to "Kirishima. Change of plans". Oh man I didn't realize how much I missed the anime *cries*

BOI CAN’T WE I just spent the whole morning crying over seeing the moment Bakugou recognizes Kirishima as an equal animated nbd at all r i p me - I think this might be the first time Bakugou calls anyone by their name, actually, and I just!!! that’s because Bakugou heard Kirishima’s words and recognized him as a good partner and a worthy hero and someone whom he could respect and I’m gonna be grateful for chapter 133 for the insight on this for the rest of my always I !!!!!! have feelings g a h

Anon said:ok ok ok ok but but listen what about BAKGOU AND OCHAKO they are the most popular couple and the most cutest , i think you should try to draw them once i would love love to see this !!! of course just if you want hehe thanx

Ahhh sorry anon but I really don’t ship that - I mean, it’s true that I ship Bakugou with a bunch of people aside from my main two, but if they’re part of Deku’s group you can fairly assume they’re not between my Bakugou ships? And I only romantically ship Uraraka with Deku, Tsuyu and Iida anyway so! You’re probably not gonna see any romantic baku/ocha from me, sorry o

Anon said:Since we know what Bakugou’s parents are like, what do you think Kirishima’s parents are like?

I have a similar ask somewhere asking about Kaminari’s parents as well, so I guess I’ll answer both here?? As a general rule I don’t really like making headcanons over stuff I’m sure the manga will give me in the future, so I can’t say I’ve thought about this too much - there are a few things I work under the assumption of while drawing, like for example I’m taking for granted they both have at least functional families, considering Aizawa personally visited their homes to ask their guardians about allowing them back to school, and if anything had been weird he would have noticed

I like to think Kaminari got his quirk straight from one of his two parents with no mixing happening, and got the Kaminari surname from them as well, but that’s all I ever allowed myself to settle on as far as Kami’s family goes, everything else changes based on what I need for the current scenario I’m thinking about… I do often end back on him being an only child, though - in the same way depending on how angst or lighthearted I want it to be my ideas for Kirishima’s family change a lot, but generally I think I mostly fall back on the idea of him having a big family? In a scenario like that his parents are kind and love him a lot, but having many children and needing to split their attention on all of them might cause them to overlook him a little (it would explain his obsession with being flashy, for me) then again, who knows? I don’t know how canon you can consider the infos SMASH gives, but in one of the strips Kiri mentions working part-time, and the fact that he doesn’t seem to have problems with money kinda makes me believe he might be independent from his family like that (unless he’s a rich kid, also very entertaining as a possiblity)

I’ve seen a lot of headcanons floating around about both of these guys’ families and possibly being related to villains, that would be cool too, though I’m not sure how much I believe it

I’m sorry this ended up being little to no useful at all lol as I said, I just shift between scenarios a lot - imagine settling on one and growing attached and then having to let it go once Hori proves it wrong, that’d be terrible for me

Anon said:Oh my god…we had a black cat called nitro !! He was super affectionate and high strung. Thanks for reminding me of him. great art as always !!!

You’re!!! the second person telling me they have/had a cat called that!!!! °O° is it a popular name for cats? I just called her that for Baku’s quirk tbh hahaha

Anon said:I would L.O.V.E to do a BNHA art collab with you my lord!

BOI THAT’S FLATTERING!!!!!! I’ve never done collabs before though, so I dunno if I’m comfortable with this? I’ll !!! have to think about it!

Anon said:Not only is your art adorable but how much you babble on in the tags is absolutely precious, you’re like a sunshine who always brightens up the day just by being yourself!

Way to make me blush anon oh my g o d!!!!!! I’m??? glad I can make you smile with my incoherent blabbering??? It’s super nice to know because tbh I just have way too much to say about everything hahaha (read: I dunno how to shut up. ever. rip)

Anon said:I just wanted to say your asks posts and doodles and literally just your whole blog in general brightens up my day so much no matter how sucky it’s been. I had a rough day today but the first thing I saw when I got on tumblr was one of your bakugou drawings and it made me smile when nothing else that day did and I just wanted you to know that. Also you seem like one of the most honest and heartwarming people ever. I hope you have a good weekend. ❤️

gODS what’s up with you guys trying so hard to make me a smiling and blushing mess here aaaahhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!! thank?? you???? I’m really, really, really happy I could make you smile!!! That’s the reason why I post my stuff to begin with, knowing I could help you even just a little bit means a lot!!!

Anon said:I’m really sorry if I reposted anything!!!!! Its truly out of habit….😌 But really, I’m sorry. (By the way, your art is amazing!!)

Thank you!! And as long as you took down whatever you reposted, your apology is more than accepted! Thank you for being understanding! But that kind of habit is something you should really grow out of, anon - for most artists, if they wanted their art on other websites they would post it themselves, and as long as it’s about sharing it here on tumblr a reblog is more than good enough! It’s nice of you to want to share my things, and I’m happy you like my stuff enough to want more people to see it, but since I don’t have accounts anywhere else on the internet I don’t really want my stuff there either - a link back to the original post would suffice if all you want is share, wouldn’t it? 

About this, thank you so much to all the super nice people telling me they’re sorry about my stuff being reposted! There’s a lot of you and posting all the asks here would make this post insanely long, but know that I read all of them and I appreciate every word! To those mentioning they do tell people to take my stuff down when they notice it being reposted, thank you so so so so much, and to those worrying I might stop posting, for now that’s still not going to happen - I might reduce the amount of stuff I post for specific fandoms or ships, but I love it all too much and I love sharing my love for them too much to just stop. And thank you for all the nice words and compliments too, you’re all so kind to me !!!!

Anon said:I don’t know if you’re familiar with Dave and Buster’s (it’s a big arcade/restaurant for mainly adults) but I went the other day and all I could think about was “holy shit, Kuroo, Bokuto, and Terushima would have the time of their lives here” anyway, just thought I’d share that with you since I know you ship them as well cx

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! we don’t have those in Italy so I can’t say I am, but this sounds interesting and if it’s bo kuro and teru I’m always up for hearing more! What kind of place is it? How does it work?? *O*

Anon said:Not a question or anything but I just found your blog and it is so nice??? Like all your art is amazing and you’ve made bakushimanari my ot3 and you bakusquad doodles are just perfect too. Just thank you for existing and your art and ideas just give me life. That’s all

THANK YOU OH MY GODS!!!!!!!!!! I’m so so so happy you like my squad stuff?? Lately they’re the most entertaining thing to draw tbh, I’m glad there’s actually people who like all the silliness hahaha I wish you the best weekend, anon, I know this ask just made mine, tbh!!

Anon said:LMAO when did Allen strip I don’t remember that

It’s in an extra! God I can’t remember what they were talking about so I can’t find it, I’ve been trying to since I got this ask (if??? anyone knows??? that’d be much appreciated???) but anyway they were hosting something? It might have been a character poll or something similar but I’m not sure, and Allen was The Host™ and at some point he started stripping and talking about added prices for it and if I remember right Reever and/or Johnny might have started crying for his forever lost and now non-existent innocence (was that a pun? possibly)

Anon said:OMG!!! I get so excited every time I see you posted something and now you just !!! uploaded !!!! all !!!! these !!!! BAKUGOU !!!! BIRTHDAY !!!!! COMICS !!!! AND !!!! I !!!!! AM !!!!! SO !!!! HAPPY !!!!!! (and they are all so adorable!!)

I’M GLAD YOU LIKED THEM HOLY SMOKES!!!!!!! Every time I post so much all together I always worry it’s too much haha I’m sorry for clogging all your dashboards now and again rip

Anon said:I was so excited this chapter of bnha because I thought we’d finally learn Kirishima, my babies, backstory but then we didn’t and now I’m sad (im still holding out for him having met/seen Bakugou in middle school for some reason and being inspired or something).

That’s tbh a good headcanon I’ve seen around now and again, and until Horikoshi will finally stop holding back all the Kiri infos you!!! keep on doing your thing!!!! he for sure already knew of him because everyone did thanks to the sludge incident, so why the heck not 

(I can’t say I share the hc though, since until they fought together during the USJ attack Kirishima did think of Bakugou’s quirk as Everything He Ever Wanted™, but he didn’t seem to be much into Bakugou himself? I dunno I dunno Kiri’s very gay and got around to sticking to Bakugou like glue in something like fifteen chapters I can’t say we saw much of how he used to think of him before deciding he wanted to marry him lmao)

Anon said:I love Kirishima so much it’s genuinely confusing, like this boy is literally sunshine and I want him to be happy with his explody bf. The latest chapters gave me life because he is shining and I want the world to love him like I love him. Your art of him is beautiful and the best thing ever.

BOY THANK YOU!!!! I’m glad I can do him justice in your opinion? He’s SO MUCH and SO BRIGHT !!!!!!!!!! It’s kind of hard, making him just as good as he is in canon, but that’s cause he’s perfect how is he that perfect how does he even do that I 100% share all of your confusion anon when did I even fall this hard for that child

Anon said:I’m most into the voltron fandom tonight so if I followed every blog that was suggested I would be burried in more discourse than I can handle lmao so I will just try to dig through tags to find weeks

……that’s really one messy fandom you decided to stick with, anon, I admire your strength - but!!! as far as ship weeks go, since the voltron fandom is pretty huge maybe there might be a blog dedicated specifically to letting you know when fandom events are supposed to happen! You should try digging around for that!!!