#the only thing i like about being a woman is being weird at it

[prettiest-thing-in-the-morgue]

THE HELL YOU MEAN YOU GOT A GIRL ?

summary : in which Tim's brothers find out he not only has a girlfriend but she's actually real and attractive and idk dating HIM of all people ???

Tim Drake is a busy man , his family knew that I meant come on ?? The kid is Red Robin, juggling Wayne Enterprises , solving cases, and not mention he attends college.

Not in a million years would they guess he of all of them would have a girlfriend and that he of all of them would have a functional relationship before any if them.

It started subtle at first - he'd finish patrol early , not really a big deal since they'd all assume he was busy with school and just had to go home.

Well truns out he was going home just not to do work just to simply have dinner with you.

The next sign was that he had a picture of you at the back of his phone - it's encased safely behind the clear casing . Dick saw it at first and shrugged it off, thinking it was a kpop idol or some model Tim liked alot - nope it was just him being in love with you and just showing it off.

Tim unironically smells better ? Damian doesn't know how to place it - its not that Tim ever smelled bad or had bad hygiene it's just that he's been particularly very into it as of late - he literally even has a skin care routine now but Damian writes it off as Tim being curious or weird.

Tim also starts dressing classier too like he wears good slacks or nice baggy jeans with fitted tops - showing off his slim but muscular figure as of late - he even asked Jason to borrow one of his old leather jackets and hey - Jason didn't mind lending his brother one - he just thought Tim was getting into the grunge style like him. Nope, it turns out Tim overheard you saying guys in leather jackets were hot, so of course, he had to get the real thing.

Flash forward to like a year and a half down the line and one day all three of them were talking about how Tim was glowing up and getting himself in shape .

Dick : " you know Tim's been idk dressing up as of late ".

Damian : " smh it's like he's pathetically trying to impress someone "

Jason : " I thought he was just idk changing his style ?"

Dick : " you think ? Plus he's been ending patrol early lately"

Damian : " he's a nerd Grayson , knowing him he gets home earlier to study or what not ".

Jason : *cackling* " and he wonders why he can't get a girlfriend "

*Tim who just walked in and overheard jason* : " I literally have a girlfriend. What do you mean ?"

Pin drop silence . Everyone stares at him, eye wide and then they burst out cackling.

Jason : " Timmy boy a blow up sex doll doesn't count a girlfriend"

Dick : *laughing* " Tim the day you get a girlfriend is the day the world would end"

Damian : " Timothy, that's the best joke you have ever uttered."

Tim scowls at them , " I LITERALLY HAVE A GIRLFRIEND AND SHES A REAL PERSON"

Damian *still laughing* : " Alright Timothy, let's meet your so-called very real girlfriend."

Flash forward to two hours later and they're at a local Lego shop at the mall , the batboys are all confused .

Jason : " Tim, when we said a real girl, we didn't mean a Lego woman figure"

Tim just rolled his eyes - annoyed because he can't fathom why they didn't think he can't have a girlfriend .

Not even two minutes passed, and you bolted out of the store and engulfed Tim in a big hug and began kissing him all over his face. Tim wore a big , smug smile as he wrapped his hand around your waist and pressed you a forehead kiss.

Dick's mouth is too the floor , Jason's eyes just widen so big you'd swear his eyes will roll out and Damian looks like he's gonna hurl.

Damian : " I think - I think I going to die "

Jason *still in shock* : " There is no way this is real - literally no way I've got to be imagining shit "

Dick : " Someone pinch me " *Damian pinches him hard* " OUCH WHAT THE FUCK"

Jason points at you and then at Tim , " Miss is he holding you hostage -"

Tim rolls his eyes , " SHES MY GIRLFRIEND"

Damian tuts , " She's too hot to be with the likes of you she should date someone better "

Dick : " Like me -"

Shutting him down immediately, Tim : " Fuck no"

You awkwardly laughing , " So you're Tim's brothers ?"

Jason : " unfortunately ". *dick nudges him hard* " OW WTF"

You : " It's nice to meet you all I'm Tim's girlfriend "

Dick : " yeah that's the part we are all processing"

Damian : " Are you sure you're not talking about another tim?"

Tim , scowling : " Shut the fuck up demon she said she's my girlfriend so can yall stop being so annoying now "

You : " They didn't think you'd have a girlfriend ?"

Tim : " no and I don't know why especially since they themselves don't have one either "

Jason : " in my offense I died -"

Dick : " Pack it up. It's been 4 years since you came back. You got no excuse "

Jason : " I know the man who has fumbled every relationship he touches is not talking "

Damian : " This is all pointless. Love is stupid and worthless"

As the both continue to bicker back and forth, you turn to Tim with a wide grin , " Who do you think is worse ?"

Tim , pulling you in closer , : " Definitely Bruce "

*in a very far distance*

You laugh as you grab his hand and left him off somewhere , " Let's go get milkshakes".

Bruce *sneezes* : " Someone is trash talking me "

ty for reading !!!

[cinnxmxngxrl]

“Stormy night”.

Pairing: Pre Outbreak!Joel Miller x babysitter!Reader

Summary: You’ve been babysitting for the Millers for months now, admiring Joel from afar. Until one stormy night things gets spicy.

WC: 3,3k

Warnings: smut, minors DNI, dirty talk, age gap, unprotected piv, fingering, oral (m!receiving).

A/N: I know the babysitter is such an overused trope but i’m just a sucker for fatherly and domestic pre outbreak Joel. This has a little fluff and lots of smut at the end, so there’s that.

⸻

You’d been babysitting Sarah Miller for the last six months. Some might think she was a bit old for a babysitter—she was twelve, after all—and far smarter than girls her age. But her father, Joel, mostly hired you for the company. He worked long shifts that often ran well into the night, and he never felt comfortable leaving his daughter alone for so many hours.

And you? You were a typical college student—desperate for a few extra dollars. So, when you saw the flyer on the bulletin board, you didn’t think twice.

You loved working for the Millers. It never really felt like work. Sarah was sweet, and you genuinely enjoyed helping her with her school projects, watching movies together, gossiping, and giving her advice on boys like an older sister would.

Joel was a good boss, too. He always paid you on time, left you and Sarah money for takeout most nights, and always offered to drive you home when it was too late or raining.

And, of course, the looks didn’t hurt. You couldn’t help but admire him when he was around. Joel was a handsome man—rugged and worn, but in a way that made him even more appealing. He was nothing like the college guys you were used to seeing—the ones who couldn’t grow a proper beard, who talked too much and said too little, trying too hard to impress. Joel was the complete opposite. He didn’t need to impress anyone. He barely spoke to you most of the time, but when he did, it caused an impression.

You arrived to the Millers’, the relentless Texas sun high in the sky, making your skin glisten and your clothes cling to your body.

“You brought the nail polish, right?” Sarah asked eagerly as soon as you stepped inside.

“Of course I did,” you said, holding up the small pouch filled with bright colors. “Hot pink and glitter, just like you asked.”

You’d only just settled in when Joel came downstairs. His hair was damp, a towel draped over the back of his neck, and his shirt was tugged down just enough to reveal the faint outline of his chest.

“I’ve got a lot of work today. I’ll be back around nine, maybe a little later. You good with that?” he asked, his voice deep and gravelly.

You nodded. “Yep, that’s alright.”

“Don’t let her stay up past nine,” he said, grabbing his wallet and keys from the table before heading out the door.

You spent the evening with Sarah, painting each other’s nails, watching silly rom-coms, and making dinner together. It was a routine you’d come to enjoy more than you cared to admit.

“My dad has the hots for you, you know that?” Sarah said, her voice muffled through a mouthful of mac and cheese.

“Jesus Christ, Sarah.” You chuckled, your face flushing a little as you nervously laughed off the comment. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear that.”

“No, I mean it. He’s like… less cranky when you’re around,” she said, swallowing another spoonful. “And he looks at you like those guys do in the movies we watch.” She leaned back, making exaggerated and comical love-eyes at you.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “You’re being silly.”

“I’m not. I know him better than anyone,” she said, chewing lazily as she watched you. “But he hasn’t dated in, like, forever. I’ve actually never seen him date. He’s weird.”

You chuckled, trying to brush it off and change the subject. It’s not like you hadn’t wondered about Joel’s love life yourself. You had. He only ever asked you to babysit when he was working, which implied he never had any dates, and you’d never seen a woman around the house.

No. Stop thinking about this. Doesn’t matter if he dates or not. He’s your boss. He’s significantly older than you. Nothing is ever going to happen. You’re being stupid, you told yourself.

By 9:30, Sarah was curled up on the couch, leaning against your shoulder, completely out of it. She didn’t even stir when Joel stepped inside.

“Howdy,” he greeted you, his voice warm but tired. He looked exhausted—dark bags under his eyes, his broad shoulders looking tense and stiff.

“Hey,” you said softly, brushing a few strands of Sarah’s hair away from her face. “She’s out like a light,” you whispered.

Joel gave a small, fond smile as he looked at Sarah, then came closer to the couch to scoop her up in his arms.

“I’m gonna put her to bed,” he said softly as he started toward the stairs.

There was something so endearing about Joel’s dedication to his daughter. Even if he worked too much and wasn’t around as much as he would’ve liked, everything he did was for Sarah, it showed how much she meant to him.

A few minutes later, he came back downstairs, looking even more worn out than before.

“You hungry?” he asked, his voice raspy, and with that thick southern drawl of his, it made your stomach twist in a way you’ve never felt before you met him.

“I’m good,” you replied, swallowing nervously. “We had mac and cheese for dinner—there’s a bit left if you want it.”

He hummed softly, glancing over at you.

“So I guess that’s it for today,” you said, grabbing your bag and heading for the door.

“You sure you don’t want a ride back? It’s pretty dark out there,” he offered, his hand already on the doorknob.

“It’s cool. I don’t mind the walk,” you said quickly. You’d never wanted to feel like an inconvenience, even though he’d driven you home several times before.

“C’mon. I’ll drive you home.” He was already pulling his keys from his pocket, moving toward the door to walk you out.

The drive to your place was about fifteen minutes, but with every second spent in the truck beside him, the air seemed to grow thicker. The tension was palpable.

“How was work?” you asked softly, trying to break the silence and ease the tension.

“Well, everyone seems to be assholes who mess up the simplest orders, so you tell me,” he said, his voice carrying frustration, though his eyes stayed locked on the road ahead.

“Sounds terrible.”

“Yeah, well, it is what it is. I chose this hell.” He glanced at you for a brief second before returning his focus to the road. “How’s school?”

“It’s fine. Hard, but I guess I chose this hell too,” you replied, shifting in your seat.

He let out a low laugh, almost inaudible. “You study psychology, right? Makes sense. You’re good with people.”

You smiled. “You think so?”

“I know so. You’re good with Sarah. I don’t say it enough, but I really appreciate it.” His voice softened in a way that made you feel a little dizzy.

“Thanks… I really care about her. She’s a great kid,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. “And you’re a great dad. She’s lucky to have you.”

He scoffed lightly. “I don’t have a clue what I’m doing half the time. It’s all just improvisation.”

“Well, whatever it is, keep doing it. It’s working. You’ve raised an amazing daughter.”

Joel smiled at you��probably the biggest, most genuine smile you’d ever seen him give anyone.

A few more minutes passed in silence before you arrived at your place.

“Thanks for the ride,” you said, reaching out to touch his arm for a second longer than you should have. You suddenly felt too embarrassed, your face flushed as you quickly got out of the truck without saying another word.

Joel watched you walk to your door, his eyes lingering a little too long. He couldn’t help but notice how your shorts shifted with each step, revealing more of your thighs, and how the strap of your top slipped slightly off your shoulder, showing the edge of your bra.

And he felt like a creep.

Every single time. He felt disgusted with himself. He’d tried to avoid it, but every time you were around, his mind wandered. Like when you’d come over after getting caught in a storm, your white shirt soaked and completely see-through. Or when you were on the floor on your knees, helping Sarah with a school project, and all he could think about was how good you looked on your knees like that. Or the worst—whenever he found himself flipping through an old secondhand Playboy magazine Tommy had left around the house many years ago, just trying to get his imagination going… only for his brain to drift to you. Always you. Until he cummed to the memory of your nipples under that wet white shirt.

Joel felt like the worst kind of man. He was older, a father, an adult who should know better. And yet, here he was, fantasizing about a girl half his age. Even if he never acted on it, it still felt wrong. On so many levels.

The next day, when you arrived, Joel had already left for work. A note on the counter, written in his messy, all-caps handwriting, told you he’d gone out to run some errands before work and wouldn’t be back until around ten.

By seven, the sky had split open like something ancient had broken loose. Thunder rattled the windows, lightning tore lines across the darkening sky, and the rain came down in torrents. One of the worst summer storms in years.

You and Sarah had decided that the weather made the perfect excuse for popcorn and horror movies that probably weren’t appropriately rated for kids her age. But she loved them anyway.

By nine, she was fast asleep on the couch, legs tangled in a blanket, soft breaths rising and falling, completely unaware of the front door opening.

“Holy hell,” Joel muttered as he stepped inside, soaked from head to toe, shaking water from his hair like a dog. He pulled off his boots, leaving puddles on the mat. “It’s been years since I’ve seen a storm like this. Streets are flooded, some trees came down, and they’re closing off the roads. Barely made it back.”

“Gee,” you breathed, glancing at the chaos outside through the window, the trees swaying like they might break.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re gonna clear it ‘til morning,” he said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “You’re staying here tonight. I’ll drive you home tomorrow.”

“I—thank you,” you murmured.

He glanced toward Sarah, a small smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he stepped over and scooped her into his arms. He carried her upstairs like he always did, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

When he came back down a few minutes later, he’d changed into dry clothes. A gray t-shirt clung to the shape of his chest, his sweatpants hanging low on his hips. His hair was still damp, curling slightly at the ends.

“You can take my bed if you want,” he offered as he walked into the kitchen, already opening the fridge. “Clean sheets and all. I’ll take the couch.”

“No, no—I can’t,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “The couch is fine. I already feel like I’m intruding.”

“Don’t,” he said, glancing over his shoulder. “I sleep on the couch most nights anyway.”

He pulled out some leftovers and popped them in the microwave.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“I had popcorn,” you said with a small smile.

“Popcorn ain’t dinner,” he muttered. He grabbed another plate and started dividing the food between the two of you.

You sat beside him on the barstools at the counter, eating quietly, listening to the distant growl of thunder and the drumming rain against the roof.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” you said softly.

“I wouldn’t let my biggest enemy out in that mess,” he replied, chewing slowly. “Least I could do.”

Later, you were at the sink doing the dishes, sleeves rolled up, warm water running over your fingers. Joel stood next to you, drying with a dish towel.

“Thanks for dinner,” you said again.

He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Are you ever gonna stop thankin’ me for every damn thing?”

“Hey, just bein’ grateful here,” you said, grinning as you flicked a few drops of water at his face.

The smile faded from his lips in an instant. His eyes locked on yours. Intense. Heated. Without a word, he reached for your wrist—his touch soft, but firm—and pulled you gently toward him.

You inhaled sharply. His body was warm and solid against yours. His face just inches from yours. His breath hit your skin.

“Joel…” you whispered uncertainty.

“Ask me to stop,” he said, his voice low, ragged. “Please ask me to stop.”

But you couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

“I don’t want you to stop,” you breathed.

And then his mouth was on yours.

It started slow, hesitant, like he couldn’t quite believe he was finally kissing you. But seconds later he lost all inhibition, his lips crushed against yours, hungry, desperate, as if he’d been holding himself back for far too long. His hands slid down to your waist, gripping you tight as he lifted you onto the counter like you weighted nothing.

He pulled back, just enough to look at you, his chest heaving.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been dying to do that,” he murmured, voice thick. “I feel like I’ve been losin’ my mind.”

A shiver ran down your spine as his hand moved fast, sliding down between your legs with almost no pretense, just need. You gasped as his fingers found the heat between your thighs—confident, greedy.

“Joel…” you moaned, trying to speak, but the words caught in your throat.

“If you want me to stop just tell me and I will,” he said again, lips brushing your skin as he kissed along your jaw, down your neck.

But you said nothing. Didn’t need to. The way you tilted your head to give him more access said everything.

He slid your shirt over your head, his mouth following the trail of bare skin as he moved down to your breasts. His hand cupped one, thumb brushing your nipple, twisting it softly, before his mouth went to the other one, closing it over it, sucking gently.

“They’re so perfect,” he whispered, almost to himself, before giving them both equal attention.

You could feel how hard he was through his pants—thick and aching, grinding against you like he couldn’t help it. You rocked against him, searching for friction, for more.

“Please, Joel,” you whimpered.

“I got you, baby,” he rasped. “Gonna make you feel real good.”

His hand slid under your skirt, fingers finding your soaked panties. He groaned at the feel of you—hot, wet, and wanting like he’d never seen before in a woman, and knowing it was all because of him drove him near feral.

He was scared of being way too rusty and out of practice, after all he hadn’t done this in longer that he cared to admit. As a reflex he pushed your panties aside and pressed his thumb to your clit, making you gasp again.

“You this wet for me?” he growled, rubbing slow circles. “Christ.”

Two of his fingers teased your entrance, gathering your slick. “This feel good?”

“So good… don’t stop,” you said, your voice barely a whisper, muffled by the bite you gave his shoulder to stay quiet. Sarah was upstairs, but keeping silent felt impossible with what he was doing to you.

Encouraged, Joel pushed his fingers inside you. Slow at first, careful. Then faster. Curling them, finding the spot that made you see stars—and when you moaned, he knew he had it.

“Fuck, Joel… I’m so close.”

“Cum for me, baby,” he whispered, his thumb relentless on your clit. “Please let me feel you.”

Your hips rocked against his hand. You were barely holding on. Then your orgasm hit, fast and hard, ripping through you. You bit your lip so hard you nearly bled.

He felt it. The way you clenched around his fingers, your whole body trembling, your chest heaving. He looked up at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“That was… I’ve never felt like that before,” you said, breathless, blinking through the haze. “Not ever.”

He stared at you, flushed and wrecked, eyes locked on your blissed-out face. “You look so fuckin’ beautiful right now.”

“I want to make you feel good too,” you said, eager to return the favor.

“You are,” he affirmed, not wanting to force you into anything, but dying to relieve the pain he was feeling in his pants.

“Like this,” You slid off the counter and dropped to your knees, hands on the waistband of his pants with a confidence that surprised even you. “Let me make you feel good too.”

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, watching you. The image of you, down on your knees, eyes wide and eager, was nearly too much.

You pulled his pants and boxers down, releasing his cock. Thick, heavy, already leaking.

Your fingers wrapped around him, stroking slow, building pressure. Then your tongue replaced your hand, hot and wet and perfect.

He groaned loud, his hands gripping your hair—not to push you down, but to keep himself grounded. You took more of him, cheeks hollowing, tongue swirling.

“God, baby…” he gasped. “Oh that feels—fuck.”

Your mouth took him slowly, savoring every sound he made, taking your time to enjoy everything, from the curse he breathed out when you licked along the vein on the underside of him to the way his hips jerked slightly when you hollowed your cheeks.

“Stop—fuck, baby, you gotta stop,” he said, voice hoarse. “Don’t wanna finish yet.”

He hauled you to your feet, kissing you hard as he picked you up and set you back on the counter.

“Need you,” he growled. “Need to be inside you.”

You nodded quickly, breathless. “Yes, Joel. Please.”

He pushed your legs open, standing between them, with one hand he positioned himself, the thick head of his cock nudging your entrance.

“You su—?” he tried to ask before you cut him.

“I’m sure.”

He pushed in slowly, stretching you inch by inch, letting you adjust to him. Both of you groaning at the overwhelming sensation. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he growled. “You feel perfect… perfect little cunt.”

He started moving, each thrust deep and rough, every inch felt like a delicious torture. The wet slap of skin against skin echoing in the kitchen. You bit his shoulder again, muffling your cries so you wouldn’t wake up the entire neighborhood.

“Does it hurt?” he asked, concern breaking through his haze of lust.

“I’m alright,” you whimpered. “Don’t stop… harder.”

He obeyed, slamming into you harder, faster, one hand gripping your waist, the other braced against the counter. His name fell from your lips like a silent prayer.

“I’m close,” he gasped. “You feel so good—I can’t—”

He began to lose control, his thrusts turning frantic as his climax approached. He didn’t care about pulling out—not right now—even if it was the most reasonable thing to do. Right now, he wanted to finish inside of you, to feel his cum filling you up until it dripped out of your cunt. He wanted to mark you in the most primitive way.

“Shit—I’m gonna—”

A sharp stillness took over him as he spilled himself deep inside you, cumming hard like he hadn’t in years, painting your insides with his seed.

“Fuck,” you whispered. “I— You— That was—Joel…”

“Incredible,” he said, forehead pressed to yours. “Jesus. I don’t remember ever feeling that good.”

He stayed there for a moment, head buried against your chest, catching his breath.

You stroked his damp hair. Neither of you said anything.

After his intense climax, he felt so vulnerable. All he wanted was to lay down in his bed, arms wrapped around you, holding you all night long, keeping you close and safe, like you belonged there with him. And pretending that this wasn’t something fleeting. That this was something real.

“You’re taking the bed,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “And I’m sleeping with you.”

You smiled at him, heart fluttering. “Deal.”

[thisismyhell]

Talking Back

Summary: you're the newest on the team, but instead of getting the newbie roasts, you join in on making Reid the constant punching bag. He's getting tired of the public humiliation, even though it turns him on a little bit.

Words: 1.8k

Warnings: humiliation, making out, heavy petting, hickeys, hand job

You were sitting in the briefing room reading your respective files. It was a slow day and you were brainstorming helpful pointers for a local precinct. Without having to get on the jet, the room had no urgency. Sitting relaxed in your chair you went over the facts in your file, thinking about your own profile before contributing. 

Spencer sat across from you and was trying to act casual. Everyone was focused on their tasks but he couldn’t get himself to concentrate for too long without looking back up at you. He had been looking at the same page for 3 minutes and he was worried someone else was going to notice and ask him what was wrong. He was prepared to lie but didn’t want to if he didn’t have to. 

He was fidgeting with his hair, moving it behind his ear too often and almost choking out of awkwardness. His brow was sweating but it was August so he had an excuse ready. He watched as you chewed on the end of your pencil. 

“Y/n you know it isn’t healthy to put pencils in your mouth, you could end up poisoning yourself over time.”

“I’m chewing the erasure Spence. Like an oral fixation or whatever.”

He almost starts crying from how fast he blinks repeatedly. He doesn’t know what to say to you. Over the months you have been on the team, you have rendered him speechless multiple times and he’s really starting to hate it. Out of everyone on the team it’s you who makes him flustered and embarrassed. He wishes he had the guts to get mad at you for it but something tells him you’d see right through it. 

Spencer remembers a time a few months ago when he had to discipline you over not following protocol in the field. It was just the two of you following someone and you went forward without his knowing. You were still new and you were mandated to follow him, not the other way around. Everything went accordingly, but he wasn’t in the room first. He pulled you aside saying, “y.n, you cannot do that again” with his hand gripping your forearm. 

“Reid relax, everything’s fine”

“No it’s not fine, you can’t just go on your own like that you’re new!”

You glanced down at his grip on you, raising your eyebrows. He noticed and let you go. He tried a different tactic and stood up straighter towards you. He was already taller than you but he was really trying to make a point out of it this time. 

“Listen just- just don’t make a habit out of it.”

You giggled and walked away. That in itself was also unprofessional, and both of you knew it, but you knew that he didn’t actually care about the rules right now. He felt weird that you dominated him in this social situation and didn’t know how to react to you like he did with Emily. 

Reid prides himself on being composed and intellectual. When you entered his life you spun him around and made him second guess many many things. Women weren’t a problem for him, this he knew. He is friends with Emily, JJ, Garcia, Elle, this part wasn’t the issue. The issue was that not only were you a woman, but you weren’t listening to him. You were the newest on the team and you seemed to respect everyone else equally. But with Spencer, it was anyone’s guess. 

You knew you were the fresh meat and you also knew that a man like Reid is always the punching bag. You wanted to play along and bypass your newbie roasting. Everyone was catching on to this except Reid. 

He was still looking at you when you finally put the pencil down and he exhaled. 

“You happy now, spence? I won’t poison myself.”

He gulps but doesn’t answer. He just looks back down at his file. Hotch comes back in the room with more papers and passes them to Emily to pass the rest down around the table. You take yours and lean over to pass the last one to Reid. He looks up and notices the top button on your top has become loose. He imagines what would happen if the other buttons simply fell apart revealing your chest.

He’s still in his fantasy when his fingertips touch your knuckles. He’s never touched your hands before and they’re softer than he thought. He can smell your deodorant and perfume too. He hopes some of it will linger on him so he can remember this moment again later. 

“Reid? The paper?”

He pulls it from your hand and busies himself with reading it. After a few moments he hears you whispering to Emily. He assumes it’s about his weird behaviour and doesn’t want to wait and find out. He gets up awkwardly from his chair and it swivels around him, almost tripping him. You giggle again and try to hide it but it’s too late. You watch as he nervously excuses himself to the bathroom. 

Entering the bathroom he thanks god it’s empty. He has to deal with the stretch in his pants and he’s running through the ways to get rid of it. Should he touch himself? Or should he run through unpleasant thoughts until it subsides?

He’s leaning over the sink and staring at himself in the mirror when he hears the door open. He moves to enter a stall for privacy but when he turns around he meets your eyes. You’re looking at him with a smirk and he hates you. Of course you’re here right now with him, of fucking course. You just love getting under his skin like this. 

“You wanna talk about that?”

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“That’s not what I asked about. I said, do you want to talk about that?”

He shakes his head but you stalk closer to him anyway. He wants you to back out the door and forget this ever happened. He wants you to pounce on him and make it go away for him. He wants to make you feel humiliated like he does, and wonders if it would turn you on too. 

You’re in front of him now, pressing him against the counter without even touching him. If he had this kind of power over you, things would be different. He wouldn’t have to use his intellect or his body. You would just succumb to him without the fanfare. 

“Can I touch you?”

“I don’t think I have ever heard you ask permission to do something, y/n”

You look up at him with your big doe eyes, putting your hand on his tie, “I don’t like making a habit of it. Well?”

“Please…”

“Please…what?”

“God y/n..please…please just touch me.”

And you put your mouth on his. He’s finally tasting you and he starts to whimper. You eat it up as it eggs you on. You keep eating him up and he can barely stand it. If he was too tight in his pants before, now it’s almost painful. 

You put your hand over it and push, making a moan escape his mouth into yours. 

“Please…y/n…please..”

“What? What is it baby, what do you want?”

“Touch me. Please just- just touch me.”

You unzip his pants and put your hand inside. Spencer pulls his head away from you and you watch each other. His dick is in your hands and he’s whimpering as you put on the most innocent face you can manage. His jaw opens and you admire the sharpness. He’s so beautiful, how could you pass up this opportunity of obsession? 

Spencer barely has any energy left in him and he knows he’s going to finish any second. He leans his head into your neck and starts to suck, wanting to leave a mark. At least this way you won’t be able to ignore this afterwards. This can be a way for him to talk to you about this again, maybe make it happen again. 

“Y/vn, y/n I’m gonna….I’m gonna-”

He finished in your hand before he could say your name again. He coats your palm and you keep going until he tears up. He’s already getting hard again.

“I think you can do better than that, baby.”

He just wants to please you. He isn’t even touching you but he just wants to make you feel good this way if he can. He’ll touch you another time, when he brings up the hickey. He’ll tell you he likes the way his hickey looks on you and then he can be the one to touch you. 

He’s so hard he’s crying and can’t help it. Your hand just feels so good and you deserve to know just how good you are making him feel. This feeling is all your fault and you know that. You’re dragging it out of him whether he likes it or not. 

He finishes again and grabs the counter behind him to steady himself. You’re kissing his neck and calling him a good boy, saying he did so well. 

“Good boy Spencer. I knew you could do it for me, huh? Didn’t I say so?”

“Yes…yes you did y/n.”

Before you have the chance to walk away he grabs you and pulls you into his chest. He’s kissing you like he wishes he kissed you when he disciplined you. With his mouth on you and his hands gripping you, he turns you around so you’re pressed into the counter this time. You let him and he realizes this. You could easily push him away but you aren’t letting him. You’re right where you want to be. 

Spence kisses you hungrily while grabbing your ass, not wanting to miss the opportunity. He knows you can do so much better than him and he doesn’t want to take the chance. He sucks another hickey onto the other side of your neck and you let him. 

Of course you’ll want to do this again with him, but you enjoy messing with him more. You unbutton your shirt and he mouths down your chest, sucking and biting. It’s starting to hurt you but you like it. You like the passion he has and you don’t mind the marks he leaves. You’d let the boy cover you. 

Just as you start unclasping your bra, both your phones go off. You pull apart from each other and check the message. You have another case and have to get back to the meeting room ASAP. 

His hair is a mess and you’re both sweating. Reid buttons your shirt for you without being asked, and you move to fix his hair. He lets you. You’re both unsure of how to walk back into that room, but he knows he’ll end up letting you go first.

[peblezq]

Weird personal tidbit: I attended Catholic school growing up. Where I'm from in Ontario, Canada, Catholic schools are run by another public school board. The main difference is just the inclusion of religion class and uniforms. We also had school masses in the gym that were painfully boring, but it always meant shorter classes that day, so we all accepted it as a breath of fresh air from the weight of schoolwork and responsibilities. I was in choir, and the curtains on the gym stage closed when we weren't performing, so it was easier for us to kinda look bored without being reprimanded.

Anywho, when Pope Francis was like sworn in or whatever it's called, our teachers were excited because our school was named after Saint Francis. Our school was different from the other Catholoc schools in the district. We had an LGBTQ club run by our openly gay English teacher. He's also the reason why I became a writer, but I digress. Having Pope Francis be a decent person was super normal for us, but when we heard about (mostly American) Catholics and Christians being upset about his open-minded views, it truly baffled us.

I was in 12th grade philosophy class when our teacher told us all 50 states allowed gay marriage finally. We were all confused since we assumed it was already legal there.

When I was 6, I was a flower girl at two men's wedding. They worked for my dad's family business, and all employees were like family to us, so when they said they were getting married and invited us, I asked if I could be a flower girl. Everyone was on board. It was a normal wedding. I barely remember anything except throwing cake at one of the groom's nice beige pants, and he retaliated by throwing me in a pool in my nice dress.

Seeing the state of America now, and how it's deeply affecting Canada, but mostly where I'm from because Niagara Falls shares a border with the US, it's made things very weird here for us.

Some people are afraid that America will invade us. Some think Trump is a joke. Some agree with him, though that opinion is only shared through whispers since majority of us are just annoyed with how Trump ruined a very old and previously solid relationship between our countries.

Niagara Falls didn't have a strict border 100 years ago. We intermingled with Americans because we were neighbours.

Now, our job market has gotten somehow WORSE because businesses are holding back on employing anyone on fears of how the Tarrifs will affect their money flow. Now we have to wait as long as Americans for Switch 2 pre-orders and deal with price hikes simply because our neighbours were annoying. My brother, who wanted to visit LA, is now afraid to travel to a country that would insist he is a woman.

Pope Francis passing away reminded me of simpler times in our little bubble of a school, where we just kinda accepted people for who they were and didn't fully comprehend how awful the world could be sometimes. I was taught that Jesus accepted all the little freaks in the world and he was crucified for it, and yet people crucify the very people he would protect in his name? Look, I don't consider myself Catholic anymore. I haven't since I was 18. But I believe in following good messages from compelling stories to teach us how to treat each other and the world we share.

I'm not the praying type, and I only have certain skills, but I promise to continue to share my silly stories. Because at the end of the day, when I get a comment on an old fic I wrote, someone talking about how reading it made their day better, that is enough to keep me positive minded and to not allow myself to spiral in all this negativity.

On a slightly unrelated note, I also remembered that gay teacher spending an entire writer's craft class trying to convince us that Destiel would be Endgame. I had no idea what he was talking about at the time, but now I wanna message him and just say, "You were so right about Destiel, and it completely went over my head in highschool, dude."

(Source)

[orochimarusupermacist]

As much as I love treating everthing (even crack) seriously, I need to acknowledge the fact that post Shippuden/Boruto Orochimaru is a troll. Like bro just wakes up and chooses violence as always but now they can't just kill people in plain sight (they still do kill people, don't get me wrong, just not openly) so they needed to reset to other tactics.

My incomplete list of stuff I thing Orochimaru does to mess with others:

- tells unflattering stories about Jiraya. Next to Naruto

- out of nowhere tells people about their ex situationship from 30 years ago. Usually when talking to said ex situationships child/grandchild (Kakashi)

- spreads fake rumours

- funds Tsunade's gambling

- shows up to random events in Konoha (a meeting about installing more benches in the residential area, sounds interesting)

- always overdressed

- knows more about Sarada and Boruto (from Mitsuki) than Sasuke and Naruto respectively and if one of them annoys them, they just start quizzing them on their own child

- gets drunk with Tsunade once, has a one night stand so awful they both end up crying/throwing up. Keep sleeping with each other (it's good when Orochimaru is not blackout drunk), everytime they meet. Have loud sex in Konoha's Hospital on call rooms. Traumatize Shizune.

- "in my time"

- Calls people by their parents name

- Or other dead family members (especially calls Sasuke, Itachi)

- tries to set up Yamato on dates with suitable woman

- Recruits people to join the sound village, in a weird culty religus style. With leaflets and all

- tries to enroll themselves into the Konoha's veteran benefits program

- goes to the Konoha's archives like they own the place. The guards don't know what to do. They and who being escorted out if there by a very frustrated Yamato

- goes to all parents mixers for academy children and only talks to Hinata for some reason

- flirts back. Aggressively.

[dearweirdme]

To the anon with the statement, "But not because of his dating rumors but because he has a bunch of fans who cannot respect his own choices but instead go ahead to make up their own stories to fill into the gaps they created in something that was so easy to understand."

This right here. This is exactly the example of heteronormativity that we keep talking about. The fact that you think that us claiming Tae and JK are together is "filling the gaps" in the whole Taennie theory. When in reality it's absolutely the opposite. Tae and JK's story is lonngggggg and Taennie's is a blip on the radar. Almost nonexistent.

You're saying that we're misreading things because of one PR walk? And that years and years of footage, clues, and signs of Taekook being together are just nothing? Taehyung, Jungkook and ever the members have alluded/hinted on COUNTLESS occasions they are possibly together. Not to mention Tae's many hints at being queer. And yet WE are the ones who aren't respecting Taehyung?

You people always say that we WANT Taehyung and JK to be together. You act like it's some huge f*cking manipulation when we talk about them. Come ON. I'm a taekooker because I see something in them. Not because I wanted to, but because I just did and still do. If I saw actually believable evidence that this wasn't the case, I'd listen. But the Taennie walk just wasn't it.

Just because you want Taehyung to be straight and believe the most obvious PR stunt to be true, doesn't make it real. If anything, that makes you in the wrong. For assuming Taehyung's entire identity over a publicity stunt. Why is it SO unbelievable for him to not only be queer but to be dating someone he's been extremely close with for years? As opposed to a woman we've seen him with one time in a PR walk and has otherwise shown no interest in. Oh right, because being straight is the default right?

And the defense is often, "well they have to hide their relationship." Umm okay, and that's what we often say about why Taekook can't be more open and yet people always tear us down for that point. As if a gay relationship that's hidden is so much more unbelievable than a straight one?

I'll never say for sure that Taehyung is 100% in fact queer or 100% in fact in love with Jungkook. But if you look at his behavior, his words, his actions with an open mind, you wouldn't view us as so crazy for seeing something more between him and JK. Questioning if someone is queer isn't some horribly offensive thing either. Being queer isn't a bad thing and it's weird to get so offended by the idea of your faves being not straight.

Louder anon!

[moonwateraura]

“Press Play”

Adult Van Palmer x college reader

—————————————————————————

The bell over the door gives a soft jingle as you walk into While You Were Streaming. The air smells like old plastic, lavender, and something warm and nostalgic—like time paused somewhere in the late ‘90s and never bothered to catch up.

You take a few steps inside, eyes drifting over the shelves. It’s quiet. Almost too quiet.

“Lemme guess,” a voice calls from behind the counter—dry, amused, a little too knowing. “Film student?”

You turn toward the voice and freeze for a second.

She’s leaning back in a stool like she’s got nowhere else to be, boot propped on the bottom rung of the counter. Short red hair, a worn-in flannel tossed over a white t-shirt, and jeans that look like they’ve been through hell and back—she looks like the exact kind of woman your TA warned you about, and now you kind of get why.

Your eyes flick to the Jaws patch sewn onto her flannel sleeve. Then back to her.

“Uh… yeah. That obvious?”

Van gives a one-shouldered shrug, like she’s being generous by not teasing you more. “You walked in with that specific ‘I’ve-never-used-a-VCR’ face. Plus, it’s Tuesday. That’s when the film kids panic and remember they need a ‘rare analog copy’ of something for class.”

You smile, sheepish. “Okay, yeah. Guilty.”

You walk up to the counter, pulling out the sticky note your professor scribbled down. “I’m supposed to find Paris, Texas on VHS. He said the only way to ‘experience its raw visual language’ was on tape.”

Van raises an eyebrow, that same subtle, dry smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Oh, vintage snobbery. Gotta love it.”

“I called it old and he nearly fainted.”

That gets a low chuckle from her. She pushes off the stool and heads toward the back shelves. “Old, huh? You really trying to hurt my feelings today?”

Your eyes widen. “Wait—I didn’t mean you’re—I mean the movie’s from the eighties—”

Van glances over her shoulder, grinning. “Relax. I’m kidding. Mostly.”

She finds the tape with practiced ease, pulls it down, and walks it back over to you.

“Last copy,” she says, holding it out. Her fingers graze yours—light, quick, probably nothing—but it still sends a little static up your arm.

You clear your throat. “This place is kind of awesome. Like… time travel.”

Van leans a hip against the counter, arms crossed over her flannel. “Yeah, it’s a weird little bubble. Mostly regulars and nostalgic weirdos. You’re kind of a new demographic.”

“Yeah? What’s my category?”

She studies you for a second, then shrugs. “Cute film student who says the eighties are ‘old’ but still came all the way here instead of streaming a bootleg online.”

You blink. The way she says cute is so casual, you can’t tell if she even meant it that way—or if your brain’s just trying to fill in the blanks.

“Your professor’s got decent taste, I’ll give him that,” she adds. “Paris, Texas is worth seeing the right way.”

You nod, holding the tape a little tighter. “Do I pay now, or…?”

Van shakes her head. “Nah. First one’s free.”

You narrow your eyes. “Is that a store policy or a weird first-time-customer hazing thing?”

She grins. “Just incentive. Come back tomorrow, tell me what you thought. Could be fun.”

You hesitate. It sounds casual. Harmless. But there’s something in the way she says it—like she’s watching your reaction too closely.

You start to turn, then pause. “Should I call? Or just… show up?”

Van tilts her head. “You should give me your number. Just in case I find another rare treasure your professor forgot to mention.”

Your heart jumps a little, but you try not to let it show.

You grab a pen from the counter, scribble your number on the back of a crumpled movie rental card, and hand it over.

Van takes it, eyes flicking to the digits. She tucks it into her back pocket like it’s not a big deal, but her smile is a little different now—more real. Still amused, but not just at your expense.

“See you tomorrow, film girl.”

You nod, backing toward the door, still unsure if that was flirting… but kind of hoping it was.

Outside, the sun feels a little too bright. The tape’s warm in your hands. You don’t even realize you’re smiling until you catch your reflection in the window.

And back inside, Van watches you go—muttering under her breath, “Definitely coming back.”

[lichtgrau]

Maybe it was strange, but ever since Minh woke up in the body of a cat, he was oddly calm about stuff, didn't matter how wild or weird it was. That definitely helped! If he had felt too troubled, the way out would have been to simply cat-shift, but before anything was decided on, a very busy-looking man showed up, walking to her like he had anticipated for something like that to happen. The younger opened his mouth to say something, but then simply watched as the woman was shoved back into her room.

"Headaches ruin the day; only a toothache is worse." He tried in an attempt to show some sympathy. But men, he knew this gaze which was funny because somehow, it was odd ow now it was such a headache to prove he wasn't a human when he had to be concerned not to shift in front of one out of the blue.

"I take you did not hear the very creative story of how I was adopted from the streets, my paw-ed company is good at telling it, as he is good at napping through my calls. I'm not really good at the whole, follow the scent thing to the room." Shapeshifter guy in a hotel full of Japanese mystical beings was likely an odd combination.

"W-27C, I am not sure what to make of it, but I admit this is my first time at a place like that. I get lost in other hotels too, tho." Fuck this, the most embarrassing introduction of his lifetime, minus the day he met Uta, or the day Isa would introduce him to his guy, and then he would hope the blond did not remember they ran into one another at a plushie store opening. "Help would be appreciated, thank you." Name? No, it would be odd to give his name now... the man probably was busy enough already.

"Oh… oh I could really use an aspirin…" the low voice of a woman could be heard from the corridor in the west wing of the hotel rooms. It was also the wing in which Uta and Minh had been allocated their lodging. The woman in the indigo yukata spotted the young man with long hair wandering, his expression a little tense, as though he was lost. From his wrist dangled a bag that was printed with a familiar logo: Tsuruha drug! Perfect!

She shuffled quickly towards him and grabbed him by the arm. "Kind sir… do you happen to have any aspirin with you, or, or perhaps Panadol, oh my head… it is killing me, I swear it is…" as she implored almost in a moan, her head began to droop towards her shoulder, smoothly as melting mochi, as though her neck was elongating…

"Miss!!" A man rushed around the corner, gently but firmly pulling the woman away from Minh. As though out of nowhere he whipped out a long scarf and wound it several times around the woman's neck, then he ushered her back into her room, whispering, "Maiko-san, I have told you many times! You must be careful! I promised, didn't I?! That I would send someone at 6pm - please, you must be good and wait for us!"

After a minute or so, the man returned to the corridor, smiling brightly and not at all looking frazzled, apart from his mussed hair, maybe. "Good evening sir - I am so very sorry about that incident, um…" Eita placed his fingers to his lips for a moment, staring at Minh, or maybe through him. It was always possible that a human had wandered into the wrong wing of the hotel, but… "are you lost, perhaps, sir? May I show you back to your room?"

[gideonisms]

I love it when genuinely strange women make art. Huge fan of listening to songs by a woman who has felt out of place in every circumstance since birth and reading books by a woman whose interpersonal relationships have clearly been complicated enough to be basically indescribable with modern terminology

[variousqueerthings]

ahhh gotcha gotcha, also interesting because ive sorta deliberately avoided defining fraser's relationships with either ray (and, to an extent, meg) under romantic/sexual terms, because of that vagueness

a sort of "yeah, sure one can hc that, but i like to not be too prescriptive in any of the dynamics and more look at what's actually happening in them" (which, i guess, is the aspec read of things)

(EDIT: IM NOT SURE ON THE BELOW IM QUITE TIRED AND IT MAY BE SOMEWHAT RAMBLY/UNFORMED BUT WE POST!)

i guess, with ray vecchio specifically (as that's who we're talking about and im still unpicking fraser's relationship with ray kowalski, as it's a bit different and they don't initially have that Flash Instant Draw to one another/they're forced to be partners under less than ideal circumstances and their individual baggage colours their interactions a lot) i might actually steer you to this great little f/v fanfiction written by @gjdraws which is technically about fraser having an oral fixation and ray going "huh, is this thing he wants to do kinda weird? maybe, but who cares, i also like it and it's him expressing his wants!" and is also then going into the ways in which that sort of a relationship might be navigated by the two of them (a mix of the ways in which fraser is trying to be open with ray, and ray holding space for the ways in which fraser comes at things like sex from a different angle than one might imagine)

(me and gj have a lot of conversations about fraser that are very interesting in terms of all of this, because ive slapped that aspec label onto a lot of things that may not seem to be such if one doesn't identify as such, but in terms of the logistics we agree on pretty much everything... so. interestiiing)

point being, generally, whether or not romantic or sexual (and whether it may be read as such from a certain perspective and not from another, for example i find fraser's relationship with kink and sensory stimulation to be very interesting and that can obviously absolutely enter into a sexual sphere as it does in above fic), ray vecchio occupies a space for fraser where he's able to set more boundaries and be more assertive and also more doubtful (in himself/need reassurance) than he is around other people

ray's whole "act more human pls" thing, which is less about thinking there's something Wrong with fraser (he's often very into his quirks) and much more about aforementioned boundaries/letting himself be open and hurt, is something fraser mostly allows himself only with him

and i do think the dance shows some of that dynamic in microcosm. ms fraser gets hit on and isn't super comfortable, ray comes in and helps her out, there's the whole "it would appear i am still dancing with a man" line, but the whole thing is that in this case ms fraser is happy to do so because it's ray, and at the end of the episode there's a jokey quippy back-and-forth in which ray basically says that fraser would be his type if he were actually a woman, followed by him asking fraser out for dinner

all of this is familiar, relaxed, easy for fraser. when they fight in that later episode, it's an argument that they're having together, trying to figure out what the problem is (but also with some hurtful turns of phrases, it's still an argument even though they're both trying to find out how to end it). fraser, in my opinion, never has that openness with anyone else on the show

arguably he learned ray's "please be more assertive about yourself" and then only properly applied it to him (which, great for their relationship, not exactly what ray meant!!!)

"are his relationships with the rays a counterweight to his relationships to the various women".... yes. i'd argue. not meg outside of a few instances, who is often her own thing-going-on, but the main three single episode characters (i include victoria in this).

victoria-and-ray-vecchio are obvious foils, they're literally framed as rivals for fraser's time/affection/future, and again, ray threatens to kill her, and she responds by trying to frame him for mass-theft to get him in jail and out of the picture -- she does this despite promising fraser she wouldn't if he did what she was blackmailing him to do/made himself a criminal and ran away with her

janet-and-ray-kowalski ye-es-ish. i'm currently rewatching so can get more into that when i return to the episode, but i think mainly at the end of the episode when fraser professes his loneliness, ray kowalski shows up in the picture and they go out for dinner. it's sort of bittersweet though still/he and ray are still more cautious friends at this point. ray kowalski isn't (from memory) contrasted with janet throughout the episode

ladyshoes-and-ray-kowalski i definitely need to rewatch because there's a fair bit of worry about fraser being used by her, which is interesting for various reasons. i don't remember if kowalski is the person who professes a sadness at fraser's "lost innocence" as it were in that episode, or if it's maybe fraser himself? like i said, need to rewatch to see how that all comes together, it's a good one!

if the women on the show who are presented as sexual possibilities for fraser are ones who either ignore his lack of consent or who have the ability to override it, ray's repeated insistences that fraser needs to develop the ability to say no or set boundaries occupies a similar space. pushing someone to say no more frequently is as much about being able to trust them when they say yes

there is a fic about this somewhere, but i believe it's the opposite direction. telling fraser to ask for things with the promise of only saying no so that fraser will stop worrying about the idea of "no" and dare to ask for anything at all

also yeah the "have the ability to override it" is interesting, because that runs through the whole meg/fraser dynamic and i read as playing into her decision not to pursue it (im not sure that was intended so much as a generic-ish will-they-won't-they, but listen, the show has brought these themes up, i will take them at face value because they're good themes and tbh a lot of the time it really is that deliberate, because people write things on purpose or so ive heard)

i confess, i do think a lot of these ideas were not dropped with ray kowalski, but very different, because ray kowalski is presented as quite a lost man, identity-wise, and leans on close relationships to give him that identity (first his wife before she left him, later fraser when he starts to trust him, but throughout the show is very keen to get into a romantic relationship with someone and that someone sorta-kinda ends up being fraser's long-lost sister, but then he goes off on an adventure to the northwest passage with fraser so they can both find themselves, in the final scene... lots to unpack there) so i think fraser does a lot of bending for him that's never totally explored, because nobody ever really (from memory, first watch, etcetc) tells fraser to assert his boundaries again after ray vecchio, and he's not very good at doing so either

there's, like i said, some insinuations around it (his ghost!father warning him from sleeping with janet and so he doesn't, using his own vulnerability to lure in ladyshoes despite hoping it's an act) but idk. idkkkk if fraser-and-consent-and-canonical-longterm-relationships (ray, ray, meg) is ever quite completed as a thread

idk if ive answered your questions. brain

also think it's interesting that in terms of sexual writing on the show, benton fraser has only had experiences ranging from harassment (being pursued/commented on without his consent) to lowkey sexual assault (being touched in a sexual way without his consent), and various iterations of similar, with the two most obvious being a situation in which he's emotionally blackmailed and manipulated in the lead up to having sex (victoria) and where it's canonically stated that he's being taken advantage of while in a vulnerable state and shouldn't have sex (janet) (EDIT: also ladyshoes, which is interesting in its own right, but i think needs a whole other post, because he's learned from being taken advantage of and plays her game and it kinda hurts to watch)

the only person where it's more complicated is meg, and the more i read into it, the more i think there's a lot to be said for her taking a big step back because she's his superior and has power over him (ofc, i also enjoy the read that she's aromantic, but that also carries a feeling to it that she has some complicated feelings for him that she doesn't necessarily want to ruin by entering into a sexual relationship with him, regardless of how attracted to him she is, and the fact that he would allow it... it probably would end up hurting him, if not gone about carefully)

point being, there's a whole depth of thought id like to explore on fraser and sex that relates to him not only not having language for what he maybe does want (whether or not that involves sex and/or kink) but he's also not been given the opportunity to learn/verbalise what he doesn't want

his whole relationship with sex and relationships, to me, is wrapped up in so many layers of messy experiences and lack of respect for his bodily autonomy that he'd have to unlearn all kinds of things before one could even know under what precepts he'd consent to something on, and potentially that might never even happen, because he doesn't exactly end the show having learned to enforce boundaries (or even, maybe, that he's allowed to have them)

[ghost-bard]

how do i talk about taash being a realistic character while also acknowledging that they absolutely couldve and shouldve been written better in every aspect

[suguruuuuu-chan]

T4t Zosan save me....save me t4t Zosan...

[zaddyazula]

obviously i love strangelove’s character but she wasn’t written well… as a woman or as a lesbian…

[trans-estinien]

i love being autistic cause sometimes i get a glimpse into how regular people perceive things and its like. what the fuck. what the fuck is that? you live like this? and its normal?? i think YOURE the weird one actually. im fine. thanks though.