#we're lucky this gif exists at all
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Jesse Compher, Sarah Nurse, and Emma Woods on the bench after Compher and Nurse score a minute apart, 21.12.24, MTL @ TOR
#op#sceptres lb#hockey#pwhl#jesse compher#sarah nurse#emma woods#the gigglers!!#i was going to blur out the note on nursey's goals but i got . Lazy#we're lucky this gif exists at all#my stuff#my gifs
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Hihihiii :3 Hope you're having a great day author!
This is my first direct interaction in this website generally speaking, so what better way to start than rambling my head off about the twink slutty baby? YES. Lavi. That cute whore that's been on my mine for a good while now...I want to kiss him, want him to cuddle me so bad grrrr I want to rim his pretty ass and use it as my only life source for the rest of my mortal existence. I want to follow every single one of his instructions on how to please him while he guides me with that shit eating smug grin '>:3'. I totally see him as a power bottom, riding my strap effortlessly while he pins me down telling me how much of a pathetic virgin I am and how fortunate I am to even be touching him, how lucky I am that he's willing to teach me how to make him feel good, how he'd laugh once I'm exhausted and he keeps nonchalantly bouncing still with his endless incubi stamina...MMMM...But also, I want to hit his ribs each time he throws an annoying tauntrum, or make him whimper each time he breaks something expensive, I want to sneak into his phone and watch just all the dozens of porn he has in his gallery along with his search history, I need to make him cry so hard until we're both doubting who's the real pervert here...I NEED to peg him. I NEED to spank his cute jiggling ass until it's red and sore. I need to make him deepthroath my strap and perhaps give me head. I NEED to grope his cute small chest and nurse on his rosy nipples while he tries to make a teasing remark only to be interrupted by his own lewd moans. I NEED to watch how all that lube and cum slowly leaks out of his puffy hole with profane sounds while spreading his supple asscheeks further apart as he whines and mewls begging for more. I NEED to cuddle him from behind while I finger his thight whorish asshole, I NEEEED to give him some genuine, gentle love-making while kissing his pretty face and cooing sweet nothings into his ears while he grabs onto my neck thightly saying shamelessly how good it feels.
I want to give him goodnight kisses on the forehead, cheeks, nose, eyes, tummy and finally his soft lips. I want to feel him clinging onto me with his limbs (and tail of course) while we sleep, even better if he craddles my head on his chest. I might even forgive his murders if he promises to be a good boy with a pretty pout even though he'd probably be crossing his fingers behind his back. I want to do each other's hair and nails. I want him to listen to the music I listen to (Rabbit Hole by DECO27 would be SO him). I want to see his deadpaned and disdainful face when I tell him all my bad jokes. I want to go out with him at those aesthetic cafés and buy him everything he wants even if I won't be able to buy anything else for a while. I want us to get matching couple cheesy things. I want us to do lovey dovey stuff together and maybe a kiss that doesn't end up looking out of a hentai. A wholesome one. I want him to live on my lap. I want him to try make him wear decente clothes from time to time. I want to see his reaction once my mortal life comes to an end. (If he cries and gets depressed he'll look so pretty but if he laughs he'll also look so pretty). I want to show him off to my friends even if I know he's probably the type that types 'uwu', ':3' or 'nya~' either satirically or not. I would bear the cringe for him. I want to send him memes and reels and, overall, just hear his laugh because I'm sure it would be gorgeous just like him. <3
He literally lives rent free in my mind this is a call for help. I crave for more Lavi content.
I'm not horny. You are.
Anyway, thanks for the constant posting! I love how you write your characters and draw/paint! You're one of my favorite artists. Eat well and have a good day/night. :)
Oh my dear GOD this was a ROLLER COASTER
I don't even know where to start. Alright so first of all, this is so deliciously written omg??? You made me put Lavi on a plate and eat him I bet he'd taste like cake. The contrast between the wholesome parts and the extremely unholy parts were crazy I felt like I was in a car that randomly speeds up and down
Rabbit hole is indeed very Lavi, the animation fits him so well as well. If I knew how to make them I'd definitely draw a Lavi version. And yes he's definitely the type who'd type "uwu" and ">:3" unironically
THE DRAWINGS ARE SO CUTE AS WELL!! HE LOOKS SO ADORABLE LOOK AT HIS CUTE LITTLE FACE AND CUTE BUTT
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Can you please write Damon cheering up sis!reader by taking her out for some 1 on 1 time? Maybe even some grumbling from Stefan when they get back home lol ❤️
"If this is what you call a date, I want you to know I'm not impressed."
Damon Salvatore rolled his eyes to the high heavens and punted a stone across the grass. "Would you stop your grumbling? God," he said, "you try to do something nice."
You dragged your feet totally unnecessarily. "I'm tired."
"You wouldn't complain like this if it were Stefan, would you?" He stared straight at you, immediately noting the hesitation flit across your face. He stopped. "Would you, you little snake?” You turned on your heel, walking backwards and sticking your tongue out. Damon grit his teeth and surged forward, making a swipe for you. You easily darted out of the way but wasn't as lucky the second time, your brother catching your head in the crook of his arm and mussing your hair.
"You're a vampire," he said above your screaming, "you can't get tired. Ooh, bunny rabbit."
He let you go, stumbling, and approached the oblivious black rabbit. You recovered and grabbed his wrist before he could snatch the animal.
"No, no, no, don't." Damon gave you a look and your mirrored it. "Just let it exist, D."
"Fine, but when I'm hungry later and wanna snack on a passing tourist, don't come crying." You slapped his shoulder and he leaned down, beckoning to his back.
"Come on, get on." You merely blinked in response and he rolled his eyes once more. "Get on, or I'm leaving you behind." You, figuring this was the only way you were getting to the top of the mountain, jumped onto his back with all the grace of a baby elephant. Damon, ever the drama queen, groaned under the weight. "Damn, sis, how much do you weigh?"
You kicked his hips. "Walk on, ass."
Damon had hauled you out of the house that morning without allowing you—or Stefan—a word in edgeways. "It's a date," he'd said when you’d protested, "we're going on a date." Said date apparently included hiking up the tallest mountain in Virginia.
You moved faster now you were off the ground, hanging around his neck with your cheek against the back of his head. Your eyes followed the moving view until Damon got to the top and the trees cleared. You lifted your head and dropped down as he let go of your legs. "Woah."
"What'd I tell you, kiddo?"
"It's beautiful."
"Yeah, I—" A sharp trill pierced the quietude at the top of the answer and Damon grumbled, reaching into his pocket to yank out his phone. The name caused him to audibly roll his eyes "—aw, seriously?" He put the phone to his ear. "Hi, bro. No, bro, I haven't kidnapped our sister. We're having a dandy old time, thanks very much. She's fine, we're fine, the bunny's fine, and don't even think about coming after us because you're not invited. This is a date." And with that, the phone was turned on silent and pushed right back into his pocket.
You crossed your arms over your chest and grinned, one brow raised. "Eloquent."
Damon rolled his eyes and sat at the edge of the mountain. "Come here. Come on, I won't let you fall." He rose a brow playfully. "Maybe."
You gave him a look but came to sit beside him anyway, making extra sure to be close enough that if the wind blew a little too hard and you did topple over the edge, he'd be able to grab you in time.
"I brought you here when you were a kid, you know?" Damon thought about that. "Well, more of a kid than you are now, I mean."
"Yeah?"
"Yup. Carried you all the way up. You said your legs were tired." He jabbed you in the side. "Guess some things don't change."
“Hey, I walked up most of it by myself.” You jabbed back.
“Yet the question remains…will you walk down by yourself?” He rose his brows in question. You narrowed your eyes but didn't respond, prompting your brother to snort.
"What did I think of it then?" you asked. The views were gorgeous, but you doubted you’d appreciated them as much when you were younger.
"Absolutely no idea. You fell asleep on the way up." Damon didn't sound impressed. You grinned. "Seriously. Busted my ass climbing up that hill and you weren't even awake to see all this."
"You didn't wake me up?"
"You were a deep sleeper."
"Belated sorry."
"Accepted."
You leant against him, your shoulders touching. "That's why you wanted to come today?"
Damon shrugged. "Seems a shame not to see it at least once." He paused. "And to spend some time together." You glanced up at him. "What?"
You said nothing. You shook your head and rested it against his shoulder, reaching to take his hand in yours. "I missed you too, big brother."
TVD Masterpost
#vampire diaries#the vampire diaries#damon salvatore#stefan salvatore#damon x reader#damon salvatore x reader#stefan x reader#stefan salvatore x reader#damon x stefan#stefan x damon#reader#reader fic#teen reader#KINDA#teen!reader#sister reader#sister!reader#vampire!reader#mine#vampire reader
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teach please me — tutor!reader x soccer player!rafe
reader's life is meticulously planned, from high school to becoming president of the country—she knows exactly where she's headed and every step to get there. but her airtight plan hits a snag when the principal ropes her into tutoring rafe cameron, the school’s star soccer player, who’s failing algebra and at risk of being benched next season. the team needs him on the field, and reader needs the principal’s glowing recommendation to secure her spot at her dream school. balancing her ambitious goals with rafe’s chaotic charm might just throw her perfectly crafted plan off track.
word count — 3.6 chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. masterlist
six
tuesday, january 28th
you sat on your bed, legs crossed over eachother with your laptop on your lap. your philosphy teacher had given out this assignment friday and you'd been mulling it over the entire weekend.
you stared at the question asked.
what defines 'perfection"? is it a universal concept, or is it deeply personal and subjective? discuss how ideals shape our perceptions and actions.
you'd been staring at a blank page for five days now, unable to come up with anything. it was like writer block's mean older sister, academic block. anything you did come up with was stupid: a stupid attempt at dissecting society's perception of perfection which was boring, everyone was going to do that. another attempt would talk about how perfection didn't exist and though that was true, your writing quickly turned into the whole, 'nothing is real, nothing really matters mumbo jumbo.' so, you scrapped that too.
your thoughts were abruptly interrupted when you felt something being thrown against your head. you flinched and looked at rafe who was sitting there, innocently with his bowl of jellybeans.
"do you know how lucky you are that i've allowed you to eat in my room? and here you are, just taking my kindness for granted," you say and he laughs and waves his notebook up.
it's messy, full of scribbles where he scratches out his mistakes instead of using an eraser. the corners are littered with little things he doodles like footballs and small animals. by now, you could read it all perfectly though, could understand what he meant even when he didn't even remember his own thought process or was unable to read through all the scribbles on his page. "i'm done." he sings and you glance at the time, "23 minutes, record time." you praise as he stands to stretch his legs.
"we're approaching it."
"what are we approaching?"
"the moment when student becomes teacher." he says plainly and you roll your eyes with a stupid grin. "yeah, can't wait." you mutter, eyes flicking back to your screen.
"if i eat anymore of these, i might actually go up a weight group and coach will chop my balls off so i'm gonna go give your brother a sugar rush. be right back." he says and it only dawns on you after a couple of minutes of him being gone that you didn't even flinch at him just meshing in with your family, casually going down to your brother and you could just imagine the smile on your brother's face when he saw rafe, partly because of the jellybeans in his bowl but also because of how much he'd grown to enjoy rafe's presence.
you didn't know whether to be scared or happy.
you glanced at his sweater on your desk, all frumpled up right next to yours, neatly folded.
you looked back at your screen and started typing.
the concept of the ideal: a personal reflection
the concept of the ideal is elusive but also compelling, isn't it?
philosophically, ideals are often framed as unattainable benchmarks, guiding us but forever out of reach. plato’s theory of forms suggests that ideals exist in a realm beyond our physical world, serving as pure, perfect templates against which our imperfect reality is measured. yet, in our daily lives, ideals often take on a more tangible form—not abstract but embodied in people, moments, or emotions.
for me, the ideal feels deeply personal. it's not static or universal but shifts with my experiences and perceptions. i've always thought of 'perfection" as something distant, unreachable, and theoretical, yet recently, i've found myself reconsidering this definition. sometimes, the ideal isn't flawless but deeply flawed in ways that make it real and irresistible.
take, for instance, the idea of the ideal person. philosophers like aristotle argue that virtue and reason define the 'ideal human' but our hearts rarely follow reason. we find ourselves captivated by individuals who challenge our ideals and force us to question whether perfection lies in symmetry or in the cracks and contradictions.
my own life is a perfect example. i used to imagine the ideal as someone who fit a checklist—organized, predictable, and safe. yet lately, i've been drawn to the unpredictable, the messy, the human. there's someone i know who doesn't fit my old definition of perfection, but somehow, they embody something more profound. their laugh is loud and uncontainable, their honesty is sharp and unpolished, but it's real, they're restless and noticeably want more from life, there's a chaos to them that should be maddening but instead, feels like freedom.
perhaps the ideal isn't a fixed destination but a reflection of what we value in the moment. it's fluid, shaped by context, emotion, and the stories we tell ourselves. this realization doesn't make the ideal any less compelling or desirable. if anything, it makes it more so, because it feels within reach—even if only for a fleeting second.
in the end, the concept of the ideal may not be about finding something flawless but about recognizing the beauty in imperfection. it's about the moments, people, or ideas that briefly make us pause and wonder if we've just had a glimpse at something divine.
rafe walks into your room, your little brother in his arms. "that's not what i meant when i said you need a study buddy." you tell him as you close your laptop and rafe pauses from blowing raspberries in his stomach. "you're my study buddy," he says to you before holding your brother up real high and making him giggle up a storm. "this little rascal is our mascotte!" and your mouth hurts from smiling so you turn away from them and start tidying up your room.
"you wanna go somewhere with me?" yes. always, every day, any time. literally anywhere.
"depends on where you want to go." you say and go to pick up your brother who is now waddling to your book shelve and is bound to drop a couple of books on his own head.
"my friends are pestering me about this bonfire." rafe explains as he's putting his hoodie back on. "i kinda stood them up when i went to the retirement home with you last week so they're on my case now. it's close to your house but i can drop you off at home afterwards if you want?"
did he want you to meet his friends? you weren't sure you really wanted that. you had friends that you wouldn't trade for a thing in the world but maybe this was him trying to show you that he did want you in his life for longer than the next four months.
his friends were different than you, liked different things, had different priorities and different interest but ultimately, rafe was one of them and you really liked rafe so who says you wouldn't like them?
"how many people are going?" you ask even though you're already thinking about what you're going to wear and which perfume screams, 'i may be a little bit of a nerd and at times too studious but i know how to have fun when in the right mood.'
he takes your brother from your arms and goes to lie on your bed with him. "i'm actually not sure. hopefully not too many cause all this algebra has me pretty beat."
you're hesitating. you don't know anyone but him and he wasn't even sure if this was a bonfire which would turn into a beach party or a bonfire that would stay just that: a cute little bonfire with less than fifteen people which was totally your vibe. beach party with fifty plus people? not so much.
"but i'll be there," he says like he can feel your hesitation from across the room. you fiddle with the blouse in your hand. "and i won't abandon you." it sounds like a promise and you're a sucker for those.
you turn and nod, "okay, yeah, let's go."
"you're not invited." he says to your little brother, a sad little look on his face. you smile and turn back to your closet to pick an outfit.
you do your best at hiding how nervous you are on the car ride there and rafe doesn't seem to really notice which is good. you want him to think you're normal. just a normal girl who maybe doesn't ever go to parties but isn't about to shit her pants at the thought of one right now.
you look down at your outfit. a little unusual for you and your sister did give you a look when you were leaving but when you hid in the bathroom to search "bonfire outfits" on pinterest, this was what everyone was wearing. the pictures had lots of loose clothing, loose pants and big hoodies which you didn't have much of. the most casual thing you owned were these leggings and your dad's old university hoodie. a pair of sneakers that you bought for the gym membership you never used. they were almost brand new and a tote bag with some essentials. it wasn't that bad, right? you felt that maybe it was too sporty because it was missing those damn loose pants but you didn't have those in your closet.
when you arrived and took a look around, you realised, rafe looked perfect—always—but specifically for the occasion. he blended in seamlessly and what did you see? atleast twenty girls in either bikini's or skirts. you were ready to scream into your pillow. they were wearing sandals which you didn't understand because the sand would get all over them? and bikini's? it was january. that's like one of the coldest months of the year.
either way, whatever you thought made sense didn't matter because you were the one who stood out like a sore thumb, walking over with one of the most stared at people in this town.
the bonfire’s glow grew brighter as you and rafe walked down the sandy path, the muffled sounds of laughter and music getting louder with every step. the air was cool, carrying the faint scent of saltwater and burning wood, and the horizon was painted in deep oranges and reds from the flames licking the sky.
as soon as the two of you stepped into the circle of firelight, it was like a switch flipped. people called out rafe’s name from all directions.
“rafe, my man!” one guy shouted, jogging over with a grin that could rival the flames. a group of girls nearby waved enthusiastically, their voices blending in a chorus of greetings.
“hey, you made it!” a tall blonde clapped rafe on the shoulder, already pressing a cold beer into his hand. “and who’s this?” he asked, eyebrows raised as his gaze shifted to you.
“this is—” rafe started, but you jumped in with your name and a polite smile.
“right, right, the tutor!” the guy said, giving a quick nod before motioning toward the group gathered near the fire. “come on, everyone’s over here. there’s drinks and snacks if you want.”
as you approached, more introductions followed.
"guys, look who's graced us with his presence!" the guy who was obviously already drunk said to the group sitting around together.
"rafe!"
"what's up, cameron."
"and you brought a friend.."
the girl who said that didn't seem too pleased but before you could let it simmer in your mind too long, rafe started talking. "i'm gonna do a very quick round of introductions, just try to keep up and remember no one expects you to really remember these names." he says and the guy cuts in, "except my name, i fully expect to be remembered." he grins making the group laugh. you smile when rafe starts, "this pestering moron that has been attached to my hip since elementary school is topper," rafe introduces him first and topper does a little bow.
"then we have, kelce, cleo, adriana, jj, pope, kiara, john b and cora." he points at each person and you recognize most of them from school and almost all the boys seem to be on the soccer team. you knew without a doubt that adriana and cora were cheerleaders because of the pep rallies.
"so, you're the girl who's been keeping rafe so busy." so busy? you saw him twice a week. they got him for five, that sounded like a really sweet deal to you.
"honestly, it's the opposite. she's got better shit to do then tutor me." rafe says before you can and you feel a wave of relief come over you that you aren't totally being put on the spot here.
"right because you're student body president, right?" one of the girls, cleo, you think, says. for some reason, it excites you that she knows you, that these people know anything about you. you never cared before but you wanted rafe's friends to like you or at least, not hate you.
"yes, that's me." you smile and tuck your hands into the pockets of your hoodie when you feel a sudden breeze. "shit, you're number 1, aren't you?" one of the other guys suddenly says and you tilt your head, frowning in confusion. "your class rank." he clarifies and it dawns on you what he means, you nod and hope they don't feel like you're bragging.
"she's also number 1 for grade rank." rafe says it proudly and your heart warms at the thought of him even remembering that. "wait, what's class rank? what's grade rank?" you think his name is kelce but you aren't sure.
"you know that number right in the corner of your report card that says 'rank: 410'? with her it says 'rank: 1" because she performed the best in our grade. you can try to guess what yours means." kiara explained while the others were already laughing at kelce's rank number.
"i've been trying to beat you since sophomore year." the same guy who pointed out that you were number one speaks again.
"pope is number two." jj says before putting a joint between his lips and your eyes go wide, "wait, so," you pause and turn to rafe. "this whole time, pope could have been helping you with algebra!?" you're happy he didn't but still, the idea didn't dawn on them?
"he didn't want to help me!" rafe laughs and looks at pope who's quick to defend himself, "woah, woah! i tried to help him! he's the worst student!"
"false accusations, you just don't explain it the way she does."
"what? she's better than me?" pope laughs astonishedly.
"well, we know she's better than you. you're number two." topper says mockingly as he wraps an arm around rafe's shoulder.
pope's eyes briefly close as if it actually pained him but he's smiling so you know it didn't. "low blow, thornton."
"okay, how about another round!" one of the cheerleaders said and opened the cooler to distribute more beers.
they handed rafe another one almost immediately, while kiara held out a cup toward you.
“drink?” she asked, her smile warm.
“oh, no thanks. i don’t drink,” you said casually, shaking your head.
the reaction was instantaneous. every conversation in your immediate vicinity paused as heads turned toward you. “wait, what?” john b asked incredulously, and cora chimed in, “not at all?”
kiara blinked at you, still holding the cup as if you’d suddenly sprouted a second head. “you don’t drink? like, ever?”
you laughed nervously, feeling the weight of their stares. “yeah, um, i just don’t. it’s a personal choice, but also, i’ve read a lot about what alcohol does to the brain. it slows down neurotransmitters, messes with your decision-making, and—” you paused when you realized they were all still staring at you like you were speaking another language. “anyway, it’s just not my thing.”
an awkward silence settled over the group for half a second too long. then, rafe cleared his throat, stepping in smoothly. “she’s got a point,” he said, holding up his beer. “matter of fact…” without hesitation, he set it down on a nearby log. “guess i’m not drinking tonight either.”
a few eyebrows rose at that, but no one questioned it. instead, someone cracked a joke about who was going to give rafe a hard time for being sober, and just like that, the conversation shifted seamlessly to the music playing in the background. the tension evaporated as the group resumed their chatter, and the attention shifted away from you.
"you don't have to do that." you tell rafe and he's shaking his head, moving to sit on a log near the fire. "it's all good. i'm very worried about my..neuro..things.." he says slowly as if he's trying to guess the world. you giggle, "neurotransmitters." you correct and he nods, "that, and i'm driving you home so i shouldn't drink anyway." he did have a point.
rafe stayed with you for a while but then more and more people showed up and the music only got louder and topper forced rafe up to his feet and they were gone, disappearing in the crowd with big smiles on their faces.
"so, if you don't drink, i'm assuming, you don't smoke either?" kiara was suddenly asking and you smiled small, shaking your head. "then what's your poison?" cora asks and you guess you don't really have one.
"i.. don't think i have one.." you say and see adriana's brows go up. "how bland." she says flatly. you weren't sure when it became uncool to not be addicted to substances but for some reason, your lips wouldn't move to defend yourself. "shut up, adriana. no one asked." cleo tells her and adriana's rolling her eyes and walking away. cora follows her. "she's not usually like that. she's been in a mood for a while." john b suddenly says before he's shrugging and facing the sky again, joint between his lips.
"it’s perfectly normal. pope is the same way. the only thing pope can’t get enough of is…" kiara trails off, gesturing somewhere far behind them.
you follow her gaze, squinting into the distance until you just barely make out pope and jj—practically attached at the lips.
“oh, i didn’t even realize they were—”
“they’re not,” john b interrupts, cutting a glance toward the scene with a faint grimace. “jj’s a freak about commitment.”
kiara smiles sadly, but you can’t help the way your brain immediately starts connecting the dots. “well, that actually makes sense,” you blurt out, drawing their attention. “there’s a 2017 study in personality and social psychology bulletin that suggests people who have commitment issues often have a stronger sensitivity to rejection. it’s not that they don’t want connection—it’s more like they’re wired to perceive potential threats in intimate relationships, so they avoid them altogether.”
cleo, john b and kiara blink at you, a mix of disbelief and faint amusement in their expressions.
"why does that sound like something pope would say?" cleo gasped with a smile.
"i was about to say!" kiara laughs and john b perks up, “god, you and pope really are a match made in nerd heaven,” he says, rolling his eyes.
kiara shoves his arm and tells him to be quiet before turning back to you. “so what’s the science on why you’re always blurting out facts?”
“probably an overactive prefrontal cortex,” you joke, earning a laugh from kiara who shakes her head, "we have no idea what that means!"
you have to admit, the bonfire is fun and apart from adriana, you felt okay about everyone. rafe popped in and out a couple of times but you didn't expect him to stay by your side the entire time either. everyone here seemed to want to talk to him so you stayed with kiara and cleo and even danced a little. it was fun but you were ready to go. it was still a school night. you only gave yourself this much time because you were having fun and you finished your essay.
you had briefly seen rafe with cora and she was standing by the makeshift bar, opening a can of beer. you lightly tap on her shoulder and she whips around, "oh..hey." she says and you ignore her complete disinterest in you. "hi, i'm looking for rafe. i saw him with you a couple of minutes ago but then i lost him again."
"oh..he's.." her voice trails off and she's quiet for a moment, eyes almost examining you. "over there." she points behind some wooden beach bar that was closed. however, you could see people surrounding it so you thanked her and walked over to beach bar, grateful to be standing on some solid land.
you didn't see him immediately and started to wonder if cora hadn't sent you here just to get you out of her sight. you sigh, pulling out your phone as you walk to dial his phone number even though the chances of him hearing his phone were slim.
that’s when you saw him—or them. rafe was leaning casually against the ledge, adriana tucked between his legs like she belonged there. they weren’t kissing, but somehow, it felt worse. their faces were so close, lips barely grazing as they exchanged soft words and easy laughter. the way they smiled at each other made it clear: they were flirting, and neither of them cared who saw it.
you couldn’t stop staring. for a split second, your mind flashed back to all the times rafe had said something to you—his teasing comments, the way his smile lingered just a little too long. you’d wondered if he was flirting with you, or if you were just reading too much into it.
but now you were sure. because the way he was looking at her? it was the same way he’d looked at you.
your stomach twisted, an ache blooming in your chest that you didn’t want to name. you turned quickly, forcing yourself to walk back toward the party, your footsteps heavy and unsteady. that’s when you saw cora, standing there like she’d been waiting for you.
her smile wasn’t kind. it was small and pitying, laced with something sharper. “don’t worry, they’re just friends,” she said, her tone light but somehow cutting.
your lips parted to respond, but she wasn’t done. her next words hit you like a slap. “it’s a different girl every day with him. but hey, maybe next time it’ll be you.”
for some ridiculous, stupid reason, there were tears threatening to spill from your eyes. you blinked them back furiously, refusing to let them fall. you weren’t about to cry over a guy who, a month ago, barely knew your name. no way.
without another word to cora—or anyone—you kept walking. past the party, past the noise, past the place that suddenly felt suffocating. the whole way home, you blinked those tears away, again and again, the lump in your throat tightening with every step.
by the time you reached your door, the ache in your chest had dulled, but it hadn’t disappeared. you let out a shaky breath, swearing silently to yourself that this would be the last time you let rafe cameron get to you.
chapter index — prev. chap. — next chap. taglist — @rafeysworldim19 @my-name-is-baby let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist & interact with post to remain tagged <3
#novawrites#teachme#soccerplayer!rafe#tutor!reader#rafe cameron#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#outer banks smut#fluff#smut#angst#rafe obx#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe blurb#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe outer banks#eventual virginity loss#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron fluff#john b routledge#pope heyward#kiara carrera#sarah cameron#outer banks#obx#dividers by cafekitsune
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The Prom Committee (pt 1)
Ethan Morales x fem!reader
based on this request:
"how about one where y/n runs an after school club so Ethan keeps getting detention on purpose to see her because he thinks “clubs are for dorks” to quote Paxton and so his reputation as the bad boy isn’t ruined"
Warnings: swearing, banter, the word boobs
AN: decided to make it a 2 parter cause it was getting long while I was writing it and wanted to give Ethan more depth of character than the actually show so part 2 coming tmrw probs!
When his assignment was handed back by Señora Diaz upside down, Ethan wasn't surprised by the big F glaring back at him in red ink when he turned the page over.
“Stupid bitch” he muttered under his breath.
“In Español, Ethan” Señora Diaz paused on her way back to the blackboard, unsure of what he said but certain that it wasn't in Spanish.
“Sorry" he retorted and she continued her route back to the front of the classroom.
"perra estúpida”
“ethan!”
That’s how Ethan ended up in detention for the umpteenth time in his academic career, tapping his pen on the desk in the nearly empty classroom with Mr. Shapiro's happy go-lucky self staring back at him.
"Well, happy to have you here Ethan!" Mr. Shapiro greets picking up a clipboard from his desk. "Not happy to be here" Ethan deadpanned. "Sorry to hear that. Not sure how you managed to get detention during the first week of school, but hey I think that might be a new Sherman Oaks record! Congrats buddy!" Mr. Shapiro cheers before realizing the younger boy is not the slightest bit amused. "Alright, tough crowd."
"Moving right along then," Mr. Shapiro clicks a pen in his hand "time to take roll!" which causes Ethan to look around the empty classroom.
"...I'm literally the only one here"
"I know, I just love checking things off lists," Mr. Shapiro clears his throats " so do I have a Morales comma Ethan?"
"seriously dude?"
"Second call for Ethan Morales"
"you're gonna keep going til I say here, aren't you?"
"You betcha!"
"Here."
"Awesome!" Mr. Shapiro marks a giant check by the one name on his attendance sheet. "god I love doing that- Alright so unfortunately I've gotta skidaddle to help out with the faculty potluck but lucky for you sir we're implementing more of a reformative detention style this year!"
"What the hell does that mean" Ethan asked.
"It means, that instead of sitting here for the next few hours, you my friend, get to offer your help to one of the after school clubs or committees that are a bit low on helping hands" Shapiro responds with finger guns. "so guess who's today's newest member of the prom committee!"
"yea, no. I'm not joining some stupid after school club. clubs are for dorks, losers, and ugly people" Ethan responds grabbing his backpack out of the chair next to him to get up and leave.
"well actually it's a committee"
"even worse"
"Alrighty well I can see what the other options-" is all Mr Shapiro gets out before he is interrupted by your voice from the doorway.
"Oh- hey! Mr. Shapiro, did you find anyone to help with the prom posters? Eric said he'd help me out but then canceled cause he said he had to train with the assistant swim coach to quote make Michael Phelps my bitch end quote. Whatever that means, so I'm kinda flying solo here" You say, drawing Ethan's attention towards you as well.
hot damn. okay maybe after school activities are not only for ugly people. He thinks you might be the prettiest girl he's ever seen and definitely takes a mental note of your outfit that's hugging you in all the right places. He quickly realizes that he doesn't know your name and has no idea how he's never been informed of your existence prior to this moment. He's snapped back to reality by Mr. Shapiro responding to your question. "Ah- I'm sorry but Ethan is-"
"super excited to help decorate for prom" Ethan finds himself blurting out before Mr. Shapiro could finish his sentence.
"Oh- well that's great! Uh Ethan just report back by 6 so I can log your hours! I'm gonna get going, you kids have fun decorating. Go crickets!" Mr. Shapiro says, making his exit as you watch him almost skip down the hall.
"Sup, I'm Ethan" Your attention is brought back to the brown eyed curly haired boy who's suddenly standing in front of you (how the hell did he cross the room that fast, you wonder) with an outstretched hand. He never really shakes hands, he just wanted an excuse to touch you. He's cute, you note mentally. You accept the offer and shake his hand. "and you are?" he continues.
"I'm-" you pause noticing those not so innocent brown eyes are directed elsewhere, "acutely aware of the fact that you're staring at my boobs".
Ethan thinks his brain might've just short circuited cause he was definitely just caught red handed. He'd recently grown a lot more confident with girls since his summer growth spurt and subsequent glow up had dramatically increased the number of girls interested in him, but there was something about you and how you so deliberately called him out that had definitely thrown him off his game.
"Sorry- I uh- I was actually looking at your shirt. They're- It's nice" he wants to die he thinks.
You chuckle at his sudden change in demeanor. "Hmm. Yea, I know they are" you respond, turning on a heel and heading toward the auditorium.
"You comin or what?"
-
For one person, you had made pretty okay progress in a week. The current task at hand was making posters to get people excited for the theme reveal. The ground was littered with several half finished or barely started posters.
"Can you draw?" You asked Ethan.
"I'm not much of an artist"
"Really? the graffiti on the side of the school says otherwise. Your handwriting definitely sucks though so I'll do that, but the art's good and if you can do it with a spray can, you can definitely do it with some paint and markers" your unsolicited review of his graffiti made him crack a smile. His latest act of defiance had been a giant snake comically eating a cricket accompanied with the words "get fucked" on the side of the school building.
"You can't prove that was me" he challenges.
"Maybe not, but Mr. Shapiro had mentioned that I might have a detention helper today thanks to Señora Diaz and I happened to notice the words 'stupid bitch' spray painted on her car containing the same weird ass t's as the graffiti on the side of the school and here you are, Ethan."
"Damn, you're good" he pauses realizing he can't throw your name back at you because he still doesn't know it.
"Y/n" you say quietly.
"Huh?"
"My name's y/n"
Pretty name for a pretty girl, he thought.
"Alright y/n. I'll draw as long as I don't have to to touch any glitter. that shit's impossible to get off"
"deal"
"and I don't write my t's weird"
"you write your t's like a crazy person"
-
Time was pretty much flying by. Together you'd gotten nearly twenty posters done and were slowly finding out more information about each other. You were informed about some of Ethan's tattoos and how he'd actually drawn the designs for all of them himself. Not an artist, my ass, you thought. Ethan learned that he hadn't met you before because you'd previously been homeschooled and had all but begged your parents to be able to go to school with other kids for your senior year until they finally cracked and agreed to enroll you at Sherman Oaks.
"Ah I see, you're a total secret weirdo. That explains your freaky detective skills" he teases.
"I am not a secret weirdo. I just like criminal minds and puzzles"
"You were homeschooled. All homeschooled kids are a little weird"
"That's an unfair stereotype"
"Whatever you say, y/n"
"If anything you're the secret weirdo. or at least an undercover art nerd"
"I'm not an undercover art nerd"
"Yea you are. Something tells me this whole" you gestured largely to him sitting a couple feet away from you, "tortured angsty hot skater boy thing you've got going on is a pretty recent development" you comment absent-mindedly. You looked back up from your poster when he didn't respond to see him sitting there, arms crossed with a smug grin on his face.
"What?" you prodded.
"You totally just called me hot"
You're now very aware that he's a bit closer to you than he was before.
"mm don't think so"
"oh you definitely did"
"did not"
"did too"
"did not" that one came out much less confidently considering his hand had made its way to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. damn, he's good.
"whatever you say, y/n" he almost whispers. have his eyes been that sparkly this whole time? He's leaning in and you're definitely not backing away. You're maybe a centimeter away from his lips until the alarm blaring from your phone, which seemed like much better idea hours ago, sent you flying back from him and scared the shit out of both you.
"shit- I- god that scared me, I uh set an alarm for 6 so you'd remember to check in with Mr. Shapiro cause, ya know, I thought we'd both probably be busy. Um- busy making posters, i mean. Obviously I mean making posters cause we definitely wouldn't be busy doing anything else so-" you ramble.
The smug little smirk has made its way back onto Ethan's face as he is quite enjoying this role reversal from your first interaction of the day.
"shut up" you say to him.
"I didn't even say anything" he responded, hands in the air in surrender.
"I've gotta head home, but thanks for helping out even though you basically had to be here. If you ever find yourself in detention again this semester, feel free to help out. Hopefully the committee is more than just me by then" you say, starting to gather your belongings. Ethan secretly hopes it isn't, he likes the idea of hanging out with just you.
"I probably will find myself in detention again. It's kinda part of this whole tortured angsty hot skater boy thing I've got going on" he says throwing his backpack over his shoulder.
"not what I said" you still attempt to deny.
"sure it wasn't"
"bye ethan"
"bye y/n"
Yea, he'll definitely be finding himself in detention again.
-
Read Part 2 here
#never have i ever#never have i ever s4#nhie#nhie s4#ethan morales#ethan morales x reader#michael cimino#michael cimino x reader
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WE'RE DONE WITH BOOK 2!!! THIS IS IT!!! Time for one last recap for Harrowcita ♥
previously, in harrowcita del 9:
this happened
CHAPTER 52
last we've seen of Team Gideon (this is Team Gideon, Team Harrow is coming and going from the river rn), mercygirl had decimated dr reverend emperor john
popped him like a piñata
mercygirl and augustine start talking about how everything's gonna go directly to shit now without the guy, since the houses existed because of him, etc.
they have some sort of hope on finding somewhere they can go stay at, maybe
they hug and augustine says something like he wants to be buried beside her, so they can hate each other eternally
I love what they've got going on tbh they're soulmates in hate, new form of eternal bond just dropped
gideon the first is about to tell them something, but they're interrupted by light
gideon starts describing that red dust becomes blood and then becomes body things and I'm like "nonononononono"
BUT I'M NOT THAT LUCKY
GUESS WHO'S BACK
DOCTOR REVEREND EMPEROR JOHN IS NOT DEAD
LPM [in south american spanish]
packing back all my celebratory party supplies
so he immediately murders mercygirl upon returning
rip girl, you really tried and that's more than I can say for a lot of people
who are in this room rn
emperor asshat takes mercy's robe from her body and puts it on
he says "hope the sixth house didn't get cooked in the flare"
"I never like cleaning house all at once, but it seems as though I have to, don't I ?"
so...is this a frequent thing? killing all your lyctors? replacing them with others by making them slurp their cavaliers once in a while? acting like there's no other way around it?
the emperor does that asshole thing
he starts asking them if they'll be loyal to him and, if they say no, he's gonna kill them
all very democratic and whatnot
apparently beasts can't kill him and he was acting afraid, in case you needed more reasons to hate him and whatnot
he calls gideon the first "gideon episode one", so that's also a genetic trait, aside from the eyes
gideon the first says he's gonna be loyal
gideon the first is taking things very calmly, but we'll see what's going on with that in a sec
also, the emperor asked gideon the first to kill harrow
because he's still buying numbers for the ass-kicking raffle I've got going on
it isn't at all a surprise, not just because another addition to the silver platter of bullshit he has done, at this point, doesn't really change much, but also because he was not doing anything about the harrow-aimed violence at any point, so
gideon (ours) goes "go to hell, pops"
he's bummed about gideon the first "killing" wake and is going to spare gideon's life, even if she doesn't want to be loyal to him
yandere twin pledges loyalty (we'll come back to this later)
and augustine goes "fuck you, john"
those aren't his words but that's what I heard in my head when I read it
then, the entire emperor's bolthole starts tilting to the side and in goes the whole thing into the river
at this point, I was remembering that the emperor mentioned there was a layer in the river, in the cylinder schematics mercygirl had drawn, in which he was powerless
so I was hoping and wishing for this to be the plan
gideon the first takes our gideon, trying to save her from the whole river situation, since she isn't a necro and there's not much she can do about it
so, since the emperor's bolthole went straight into the river, they've entered with their whole body, soul and etc.
fully dressed in flesh
gideon the first goes "wish he'd given me the packet"
???????
augustine and the emperor are wrestling homoerotically into the river
with yandere twin trailing behind them
so gideon asks gideon Sr to do something, since he's a necromancer
and gideon Sr says he isn't actually gideon Sr....
IT'S PYRRHA THE CAVALIER
turns out gideon Sr died in the fight against the beast
battle he was fighting with "mad sweetheart matthias"
♥
pyrrha has been living in gideon Sr this whole time, kinda like gideon and harrow, but with less finesse
and pyrrha ALSO had an affair with wake using gideon Sr's body
but there's no time to unpack the insane amount of luggage gideon is gaining from this whole encounter with her entire family tree
because augustine's plan was indeed to throw the emperor into the bit of river he can't defend himself in
but the entrance looks a bit like this thing from inuyasha, only that's a lot bigger
augustine and the emperor are still homoerotically pulling each other on their way down to the mouth, that's extending tongues to lick at them
it's probably a familiar scenario for them, only in a bigger scale
gideon and pyrrha are trying to decide if they wanna die by a bullet, by this whole thing that's going on in here or in the river
according to pyrrha, gideon's mom would have taken the bullet
but not gideon
gideon is gonna see this thing through, dammit
she's also having an existential crisis the size of the emperor's bolthole because life was simple before, it was just harrow and the dusty ninth, and now there's a family tree, she's a child of multiple divorces and she was born to blow up
so, gideon sees that yandere twin is close to augustine and dr rev emperor john, which means she can probably help augustine out and push the emperor in
BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT SHE DOES, NO
NO NO NO NO
WHAT SHE DOES
IS TO BE THE WORST
OF COURSE, YOU VALIDATION-SEEKING ASSHOLE, OF COURSE YOU'RE GONNA DO THAT
"uwu you're the emperor's favorite, harry" "at least augustine pays attention to me, harry" "the emperor loves you, harry" "you have it easy because you're the emperor's pet, harry"
GET OUT OF MY FACE YOU TRAITOROUS THIRD HOUSE ATTENTION-SEEKING TIM-BURTON-BLONDE-AND-PALE LEAD
YOU AND CHAD CAN GO STRAIGHT TO THE FANG-FILLED MOUTH OF HELL
I'M FUMING
I'M GONNA BITE HER ARM OFF AND RIP IT FROM HER BODY ALL OVER AGAIN
AND I'M GONNA SPIT IT RIGHT AT THE EMPEROR'S FACE
ANYWAY, BACK TO THE RECAP
gideon is being very poetic about harrow in what she thinks might be the last moments of her life
again
"at the end of everything, if it was going to be you and me, layered over each other as we always were"
♥
but in comes ice cube barbie to...save the day?????
idk, at this point
people's intentions are blurry
"your bullshit dead girlfriend had come to claim you"
gideon says she speaks "in the wrong voice twice removed" and that she's trying to do CPR on her
to some extent, because her sternum is shattered, apparently
or harrow's, I guess
so, who knows what's gonna come out of this
CHAPTER 53
this one happens half an hour before the other stuff
for the timeline that I'm still somewhat keeping, hanging by a thread, as is my sanity
Team Harrow is currently just consisting of harrowcita, the reverend kitten, and real!dulcinea
the super important info real!dulcinea said she needed to tell harrow is that what's using harrow's body isn't a spirit or a revenant
her body isn't being puppeted, something is moving it around and it isn't a fragment or a ghost
because it doesn't feel like awake will the real slim shady please stand up
is this gideon???? does it mean gideon is more than a ghost?????
real!dulcinea is like "idk what you can do with that info but that's not up to me anymore, bye~"
and harrow goes "there's a difference between keeping a shred of dance card and saving the last dance"
IS THIS HOPE???? ARE WE HANGING ONTO HOPE????
I SURE AM
so, into the river goes harrow
(if you wanna reblog onto better things harrow, this is the post)
there's the corridor from the last time
and she ends up in the locked tomb
always back to the tomb
wonder why the series is called that
but there's nobody in the actual tomb
chains are broken and there's the two-handed sword that the sleeper waker slasher awake love the way you lie had with her
harrow goes to mimir in the tomb
but in she finds...
P*RN
apparently it's a gideon originally imagined piece of high quality fifth house erotica
of course it is
EPILOGUE
six months after the "emperor's murder"
I DON'T THINK HE'S DEAD THOUGH
YANDERE TWIN DECIDED TO RUIN THINGS BECAUSE SHE CAN'T DEAL WITH AUTHORITY REJECTION OR WHATEVER
DON'T MAKE ME GET INTO THIS AGAIN
MY BLOOD PRESSURE CAN'T TAKE IT
sixth house skull though, we love to see that
so there's a "she"
who is being taken care of by three people
one is teaching her how to do necromancy, another how to use a sword and another is taking care of her
maiden, mother and crone
my first bet was judith, regina george twin and camilla
undetermined, though
idk why judith would be helpful, but those are three people we know of that were alive and kickin'
they're eating nice food but when a vendor makes a comment about how "she" should have been hurt by the hot food and she wasn't, they decide to ghost that vendor forever
they're somewhere around soldiers and gunfights
this "she" perspective then starts waxing poetic about the person who takes care of her
and asks "have you worked out who I am?"
and CAMILLA answers "not yet"
WHAT A HOPEFUL THING TO END WITH
THE BOOK ENDS WITH A LIE, THOUGH????
"the tomb will open in alecto the ninth"
gonna have to wait a whole other book for the tomb to open, I guess
harrow's taking a long nap
she deserves it
@lady-harrowhark told me the situation of the book releases when I mentioned how I thought this was a trilogy that had ended and she had to give the "oh, sweet summer child" explanation
who the fuck is nona though
is this "she" nona? maybe it is
she's smiling in the cover, which is already an oddity, but if she's been taking care of by camilla, that's a good reason to smile forever
I NEED TO STOP THEORIZING
ANYWAY, this is it for Harrowcita Del Nueve!!!! The adventure continues, though, because the hiatus I went in allowed me to get Nona beforehand and I already have a cute bookmark for her that my sister gifted me. See you in the next one!!!!
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-one | coriolanus snow
「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | canon typical violence, coriolanus snow, a lot of innocent people get murdered but there's no solid description! someone gets hanged as well | lmk if I forgot anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 coriolanus snow sees district thirteen getting what it deserves and finds himself with a goal
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i should be studying... But here ya go! Make sure to give me feedback, we're nearing the end soon!
Beta read by the sweetheart @nowitsmissing
masterlist | navigation
It was extremely early in the morning when every single Peacekeeper was called into the Peacekeeper base. There was a TV, it was surprisingly a big screen. Definitely from the Capitol. You were standing beside Commander Hoff and behind you were several Capitol officials.
“Today, we make history. Today we'll end the rebellion from its root,” Commander Hoffs’ voice echoes onto the hall.
Coriolanus raises his eyebrows, unsure of what exactly is happening. The confusion is jarring. You looked stoic, your face devoid of any emotions. You never looked so beautiful to him. You looked like power. Fuck.
Coriolanus diverts his eyes before his thoughts turn inappropriate. He looks at the screen and watches it come alive. A familiar face shows up. Lucky Flickerman. The first-ever host of the 10th annual Hunger Games.
Coriolanus furrows his eyebrows before he begins to connect the dots. This has something to do with district thirteen. Ending rebellion from its root? How is that possible? Unless…
District thirteen still exists and the Capitol has fed him lies about it from the beginning. Coriolanus wanted to feel bitter but instead, he felt relief because it meant you were doing something about it. You wouldn't let it go. And this was a gift for him, he realized. District thirteen was what ruined his family and now you're eradicating its existence from the face of Panem.
You were extraordinary.
“Today, district thirteen will cease to exist,” you announced to everyone standing.
And then, Flickerman begins to talk,
“Citizens of Panem, today the Capitol will make history yet again. From the dark age, we have learned not to repeat our mistakes. There won't be a war in Panem ever again, and this is a step towards that,”
He continues,
“Months ago, there was reported activity near the area of district thirteen since then the government has worked tirelessly to find out the truth. It has been revealed that district thirteen exists,” Coriolanus hears multiple gasps, and even Flickerman stops talking for a moment to let the shock settle in.
The man then goes on,
“But those lives there are not blameless. They live with the blood of beloved Capitol citizens on their hands. They have rebellion in their hearts and hence keep themselves a secret. But no more! Because of a special mission approved by the President and esteemed officials' dedication to keeping the Capitol safe,”
“We'll be seeing from our own eyes how the Capitol keeps us safe. We'll see from our own eyes why the Hunger Games is needed. Thank you.”
Coriolanus looks away from the screen and turns his eyes towards you. You were already looking at him and when his eyes caught yours, you smirked.
This was the secret.
This was the mission.
He could only hope that everything goes your way. The screen comes alive in a different scene. People in military gear with weapons of all kinds. Coriolanus' eyes widened, the Capitol would be broadcasting the slaughter of the district in front of their very eyes.
Not much different from the Hunger Games.
Coriolanus wonders why they do that- why broadcast it when you can keep it hidden? This shows Capitol can sometimes overlook some mistakes too. They found out about District thirteen accidentally after all. This is a shame for all of Panem for letting them exist for so long.
But he also thinks that it will reinforce the idea of the Hunger Games. It will make everybody think that violence, the punishment are necessary, or else another district thirteen will pop up again. And history might repeat itself.
Snow looks at the screen and hears the gunshot and the screams. They were murdering indiscriminately but the camera made sure only the armed forces of district thirteen came into view. Most of the soldiers there had extremely pale skin and red eyes. The way they were holding the gun, they were shaking.
All these would be missed by the blind eyes such as of the Capitol citizens but he knew every Peacekeeper and district citizens could notice it. They were sick, extremely so. It was a massacre happening disguised as something else entirely.
There was no fight at all despite what the Capitol wanted to make it seem like. District Thirteen was weak and soon a lot of people were captured, and those people would be tried for treason. Those people would die as well. There was no doubt about that.
He wondered briefly about what would happen to the kids they captured as well. He slightly shook his head, he let those thoughts get out of his head. Not his problem.
“District thirteen is ours now,” you were looking at him as you said that.
Ours.
Coriolanus liked it.
Coryo gives you a split-second smile. The rest of the people present watching the screen go blank. This moment was shared just between the two of you. The mission was a success.
A few seconds later, Commander Hoff speaks,
“To accommodate this victory, several rebels that were caught in District Twelve will be executed at noon . Everyone has to be present. Dismissed.”
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
At noon along with Sejanus, he was standing with his back facing the Hanging Tree. He looks through the faces of the people and tries to find you but fails. Maybe you were busy.
Coriolanus has another thought creep into his mind, but he doesn't let it settle. He was sure he would find you in your room when he got back.
He was stationed beside Sejanus. Every citizen present looked down, their shoulders hunched. Every instinct to fight leaves their body after seeing the latest horrors of the Capitol. It is how it should be.
Snow sees the rebels being dragged to their death. Commander Hoff speaks, loud and clear, “Watch all of you, this is what happens when you challenge the Capitols’ rule of law.”
“He's innocent!” A woman screams out, creating havoc in the crowd. “He's innocent!”
The rebel yells at her to run, and other people in the crowd try to make her stop speaking. The rebel was killed within a split second, his body now hanging. His screams are echoed by the mockingjays. It sends down a chill on his spine. His hatred for the bird increases.
Hoff commands the woman to be captured. Sejanus steps forward as if to stop them. Coriolanus holds him back, glad nobody noticed the moment of misconduct. “Don't,” he said, firmly. Sejanus has no choice but to listen.
✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧
Later, he is called into Commander Hoff's office. He was slightly annoyed because he still hadn't seen you since morning. But to his surprise, you were in Hoffs' office along with someone else.
“You have visitors, Mr. Snow,” is what Hoff said before walking away.
“What's this about?” He questions immediately. He looks at you for reassurance. Which you give him immediately.
“I promise it's nothing bad, Coryo.”
The man in the black suit begins to speak,
“I am Richard Heavensbee. I am here as the representative of the government.”
Then the talk happens. Both you and Coriolanus stay silent as the man, Richard, begins to explain why Coriolanus is here right now. Apparently in district thirteen several nuclear weapons belonging to the Snow family were found. The weapons for which the Snow had lost their fortune.
The weapons will be under the government's control as no one in his family is qualified to have the sort of military power. Coriolanus was at the bottom, after all, he should be happy for not having the responsibility. But he wasn't.
He sucks it up because Richard informs them that Coriolanus will receive sufficient compensation for ‘selling’ the weapon back to the government. It was nothing more than a formality. A formality that probably wouldn't have been done if it wasn't for you.
It wasn't enough money to pay for all of his university semesters but it would certainly pay for some. Even with the bills Snow's family already had. Tigris and grandma’am could have some small luxury with this amount. Thinking of that, Coriolanus signs the paper without a fuss.
“Can't I go back to the Capitol?” Coriolanus can't help but ask.
His question is answered with a simple shake of his head. “Your punishment isn't forgiven, I am afraid. There's nothing we can currently do about it without the appropriate permissions.” After that, the man walks out of the room leaving you and Snow behind.
“What he means is that you need to impress Dr. Gaul. And you have to do it real quick, Coryo,” you look into his eyes, your expression more serious than he ever saw, “Because I will be leaving in a few days and I don't know when I can come back.”
With that, even you walked out of the room before Coriolanus could confront you. Coriolanus looks at the empty office of Commander Hoff. He could see himself here in ten years or so if he remains a mere peacekeeper.
That's a future that he can't allow to come true.
NEXT PART
#character x reader#x you#x female reader#x reader#fem reader#coriolanus snow#scenario#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#dystopian fiction#coriolanus imagine#coriolanus fanfiction#president coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus x you#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus snow x you#coriolanus snow x female!reader#young coriolanus snow#president snow#thg tbosas#tbosas fanfiction#tbosas x reader#tbosas smut#tbosas#the hunger games x reader#the hunger games#thg x reader#thg series#thg fanfiction
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Redamancy
Lee Russell x GN! Reader
Summary: Standing up for Lee against his sisters.
Warnings: Slight Fluff, Established Relationship, LOTS of Confrontation, Yelling, Married to Lee, Slight Angst, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Heated Kiss, Mention of Lee being turned on
Wiping away the fuzz of the morning from your eyes while stomping down the steps, annoyance built from the banging on the front door. Having left Lee to sleep in on his day off, leaving you with an almost giddy feeling of getting to yell at your porch guest.
Taking notice of the two silhouettes through the frosty French door windows before swinging open the door, ready to unleash hell. "What!" you say angrily, not ready to yell just yet, looking at the two women who stood on the porch who looked more annoyed than you.
"Does Lee live here?" one said, but the other cut in, "Of course he does." The comment was not clearly meant for you, as she pushed past you.
"Lee, get your ass down here!" She yelled with the other following in, "What the fuck!?" you say, turning to watch them stare at the stairs. Watching as Lee flew down the steps, looking confused and scared while still putting on his shirt.
"Look at you, a fucking mess," she says, laughing, causing the other to do the same. "I'm sorry, I don't know they were coming." He says to you first, then turning to them, "Why are you here?" he asks, making them laugh harder.
"You're lucky we even came out here, Lee," one says before the other chimes in. "We're staying here for a few days; mom's watching the kids, so we need a break," she says, looking around in disgust. "Don't be rude, Lee. Introduce us," the other says, arms crossed.
Taking a deep breath with an extended arm to your back, he introduced the two who welcomed themselves into your shared home: "These are my sisters, Lacey and Lynn," pointing to the both of them. Lacey being the one who pushed past you earlier.
"Where's the guest rooms?" Lynn said walking to the stairs, pushing past Lee. "No," you said, causing all of their heads to snap in your direction. "You're not staying here," you say, laughing lightly at the ridiculousness, yet they turn to Lee. "Look at you—no balls, no calls, no emails, not even welcoming us in." Lacey starts seeing real fear fall on Lee's face, breaking your heart.
"ENOUGH!" You yell, making them turn to you once again, "Get the fuck out of our house!" seeing as fear lay on all of their faces. "I did not wake up in the crack of fucking dawn just to hear two strangers bitch and moan at my husband!" Continuing your unleashing of hell watching as the two step back from it.
Your rant didn't stop one of them from turning to Lee. "Nuh uh, don't even fucking look at him," you warn before yelling once more "OUT!" watching as they rush out of the house.
Keeping up with them, sadly having missed them with the door, you slammed it shut, then locked it, taking a few breaths to calm down before looking over to Lee, stunned by the events that just unfolded, his hazel eyes staring at you.
"Are you okay?" you ask softly while rushing over to him. "Yeah," he says breathy, "No wonder you never told me about-" cutting you off as his lips smashed against yours, quickly feeling your back hit the wall. Breaking the kiss, allowing you both to catch your breaths, "I fucking love you," he says, voice deep while pushing against you, feeling just how much he loves you for defending his mere existence.
A/N: I wrote, proofread, and edited this while having double vision. Hope you enjoyed!
Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!
𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @danveration
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If it's okay to ask, how do you handle acephobia as an adult? I know that's a broad question, but it feels like ever since I become an adult, the acephobia in my life has kicked into overdrive. Suddenly, if I'm not an active, excited participant in 18+ conversations, I'm being @'d and teased for it no matter how many times I disengage from the conversation or say to just leave me out of it. I've had (ex, otherwise extremely toxic) friends tell me that my version of aceness doesn't exist because "nobody is that sex repulsed" because I don't read fics if they have 18+ scenes, that I can't be childish forever, and that they hated that people wrote fics about sex repulsed aces. My mother told me that she regretted not being more openly loving with my father because she thinks that's what caused me to be asexual as an adult. Being a kid gave me a shield to hide behind, but now that I'm above 18, there's just this assumption that if you're not totally comfortable with 18+ topics, you're either an infant or a puritan, and you need to be fixed, and I don't really know how to handle it without making these people feel validated that I'm "just a puritan." I just don't like being the butt of the joke because of my sexuality all the time.
Hmmm... I'll be honest, I guess I didn't see that much difference between as a teen and as an adult myself? But I guess it might be a cultural thing about the rapport to sex related to age. In my country, at least when I was growing up, you were very much expected to have an interest in sex-related topics in high school already.
That said, everything you described is true. And because I've wanted to hiss so many times at what you've described, here's deconstructed thoughts:
I'M that sex-repulsed, anyone who says that shit can fuck off
Anyone who says they downright HATE that people write things about sex-repulsed ace has a queer hate issue. That's downright what it is. It's fucked up and they oughta check themselves and their aphobia.
Aah yes, the classic "sex=adult and that's the only thing that equals adult ever". While we're at it I'll also assume that when they say "18+" they just mean sex and none of the other many many things only a person over 18 experiences and understands?
Anyway... It sounds like you're surrounded by pretty fucking sucky people. Granted personally there's a fuckton of bullshit I just smile and nod at on a daily basis, and I don't hang out in group spaces, much less in fandom spaces, because sadly with the state of how things are, I know they're kinda anti-me by nature. It's lonely and heartbreaking and I won't pretend it's easy every day, far from it, but the alternative of having to force oneself to put up with even more hate and erasure is worse.
So yeah, lots of self-preservation reflexes. Lots of laughing at a person's aphobic joke like "Wow that's a glorious asshole if I ever knew one and I'm gonna stay as far away from them as I can from now on." Got very tough when that description involved some coworkers in the past, but hey, at least my dance of joy was all the more satisfying when they left the company.
And on the flip side, if a person is friendly and open to listen, and learn if needed, without dismissing me? Oh you bet I'll hold on to those people for dear life and do my best to hang out with them more. Such people are scattered across my life, but they helped me build a support system of self confidence that made it much easier for me every day, and helped me build the confidence to come out as ace to my whole family over time. (I also have amazing bros who somehow always seemed to consider my asexuality as an obvious part of me and their opinion is the one that mattered the most to me from the start family-wise, so y'know, I'm lucky.)
So yeah... Preserving myself from people who invalidate me and cherishing those who don't really did a lot for me. It made me more and more confident over time to mention that I'm ace casually to new people, because these people taught me that hey, sometimes you tell someone you're ace and they somehow DON'T turn you into a laughing stock for it! And yeah, it's kinda fucked up that this has to be some kind of incredible news, but... Hopefully the fact that it's possible nonetheless can bring you a bit of hope.
Ofc that also means that sometimes I'll be having like, dinner with friends of a friend that I've never met before, and suddenly I'll find myself thinking "Wow these people who just met me and know nothing about me just made like 3 jokes involving me having sex in the span of 2 hours, and I forgot that was apparently 'normal'." It's weird for sure. Bit of a survival game of sorts sometimes. But hey... It's a life, ig, we didn't choose our lives so we gotta play the hand we're dealt. And uh... How did that Bojack Horseman quote go again? Oh yeah.
#anon#asexual#ace#aphobia#this was very long i'm sorry#i sympathize with all the shit you're going through I relate deeply#but I promise not everyone sucks#and I hope you find some of those good people out there who'll just treat you with decency
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FoF rewatch ep 2: or, Heroes, assemble! (gifs and loose thoughts)
(The 30 images limit is annoying lol I have way more gifs I wanted to use but oh well.)
Having a spotty short-term memory really works in my favor lol I get to rediscover moments that I somehow forgot existed, like ZYZ fake-gagging at WX's endearment for ZYC (activating ZYC's Annoyed Cat mode). Just how the turntables, oh Great Demon...
(The way ZYC grabs his sword at the second sneeze...)
The vow scene establishes that not only is ZYC's Cloud Light Sword the only weapon that can truly kill ZYZ *dead*, killing ZYZ with it is also the only way to prevent a new malicious energy vessel from being born. Absolutely no pressure, ZYC.
It's fascinating that even at this very early stage, ZYC's hate is not *blinding*. It's intense, enough to squeeze tears out of his eyes (also can we just appreciate how openly ZYC expresses his emotions? He seems so closed off and stiff otherwise, and at the same time ... ::gestures at his tears::) but it's not all-consuming. ZYC asks questions and listens attentively when the demon responds, even seems affected somewhat when ZYC mentions being a vessel for the malicious energy. At the same time, he won't hesitate to swear an oath on his very soul to avenge the deaths of his family. And ZYZ looks at him, his would-be executioner, as if he was his savior... Right from the get-go, we're being alerted that nothing is quite as it seems at the first glance.
There's a certain smugness to WX in her early dealings with ZYZ that grates on me just as much on the rewatch. Sure, there's the fact that she's smart and can hold her own against him, and watching them banter and call each other's bluffs is pretty delightful...
And then there's her threatening to kill herself just to get a piece of information that he already refused to provide and is not vital to the issue at hand. I can just imagine how utterly stupid and wasteful that must've looked like to him, even if he didn't already have a vested interest in her wellbeing. You're lucky that he does care (and that this particular cell wasn't blocking his powers, or at least not enough), girlie!
On the first watch, the scene with ZYC sitting at The Table of Brooding and looking at the tokens for the remaining members of the team with a clear apprehension was, at least to me, just pretty (look at that view! Look at his eyelashes! Ahem.). On the second watch you go, foreshadowinggggg!
The Table of Brooding *and* Poignant Conversations:
Our second glimpse at baby!YiChen and I realize that most of the memories we get to see of him are set in winter. It's a great touch, visually placing that sad, broken kid in a season that appears as dead, cold, and empty as his heart used to be; at the same time it seems to imply that even years later, a part of ZYC is still frozen and alone in that snowy landscape. ::hugs baby!YiChen::
This is such a great shot:
I unironically love how some things did not get any clearer on the rewatch, like the whole Ying Long prophecy/ curse is still confusing to me. If ZYZ is over 30,000 years old then that would mean that for just as long there was only one "evilest demon" to kill; if there was any other demon that was killed by a Bing Yi descendant *after* Ying Long, it should be recorded somewhere, but there's no mention of it ever (correct me if I missed something). Soooo the only "evil demon" killed by the Cloud Light Sword that we know of was Ying Long, literally in prehistoric times when the world was still being formed. And Fan daren is not of Bing Yi lineage... how does he of all people know about the prophecy in the first place? (did humans even have speech that far back? How was the prophecy even heard/ understood, not to mention recorded?) How does he know that it's accurate, and that it's a curse?
Even our swordsman appears confused, but at the same time what he mostly cares about is that, curse or no, it means he'll get to avenge his brother and father. Even if he finds it odd that the demon *wants* to die so much he goes as far as to extract an oath from him. (This surely is not a set-up for a tragedy of Greek proportions, nothing to worry about ZYC)
Another moment that I forgot about, which once again proves that this whole show is like getting lost in a gallery - there's stunning portraits, landscapes, and still nature wherever you look.
To continue with the foreshadowing, once we get to meet PSJ for the first time, she's, as someone already rightfully pointed out, *blindfolded*. It's an absolutely brilliant, if small, detail that means so much more once you get to know this character.
Case in point for Bai Jiu and his silver needle...
(Also, it just hit me that they show him seeing patients at the Jixin Clinic... can we say more foreshadowing???
Which actually begs another question... how has ZYZ *not* recognized the place??? Did he literally erase all of his memory of it - together with what happened here - from his mind?)
Even the way WX and ZYZ went about recruiting PSJ and Bai Jiu foreshadows what their respective dynamics will be - WX will flirt like whoa and PSJ might be a grump, but she'll be there to catch WX whenever the goddess needs her; and ZYZ, as much as he seems to enjoy teasing Bai Jiu, will remain endlessly patient and gentle with him at the same time.
(Bai Jiu could've had another, more mischievous elder brother in ZYZ is all I'm saying, had it not been for we all know what(s), as well as his hero-worship/ fixation on ZYC...)
Case in point, the whole scene of Bai Jiu arriving at the Demon Hunting Bureau:
Then we have this - hilarious to me - moment when we get reintroduced to ZYC via Bai Jiu's admiring eyes, but all ZYC seems to notice is ZYZ:
ZYC had Bai Jiu at 你好 (not that I blame him lol)
(On the rewatch, this totally reads as hero-worship/ teenage crush, and I love love the found brothers story we get with these two, and *also* can you imagine how much the shipping potential would've increased had we gotten an older Bai Jiu, as was supposedly planned? I guess even GJM was not able to make *that* happen...)
How fast does WX go from snickering at Bai Jiu to running to PSJ's side once the archer arrives?
(Love this outfit on PSJ, it's one of my favorite color combinations)
Our heroes, assembled!
ZYC and ZYZ, doing what they do best (lol, or at least one of the things they do best):
We also get introduced to ZYC's third mode, Petty Little Bitch:
And finally, sorry WX, but you're supposed to be the one with book smarts in this ensemble... Even on the first watch I knew that the way they were made to "sign" that martial order was sus af, but she didn't even blink, or look at the damn thing again till the hidden message started appearing?
Anyway, this is long enough as it is lol The first two eps were definitely building blocks of our squad. Time to raise the stakes in ep 3!
#it takes me three days or so to complete an ep if i gif at the same time#if i continue like this it'll take me well into next year before i'm done#and i'm not mad about it#fangs of fortune#fof rewatch ep 2#fof musings#fof gif by me
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My thoughts on Influencer Arc Ep.1
Major spoilers for Influencer Arc Ep.1. "Green's channel"!
Alright, we've all watched the newest episode, and I have to say, the plot is nothing new. The kids exploring something they've never seen/done before, accidentally going too far/making a few mistakes, and now there's this eldritch being with cool powers trying to kill them. We've seen it before,
again,
and again,
and again.
Ok, I get it, what is a stick animation without epic fighting scenes? And the fighting scenes in the new episode are so creative and well crafted. The gang utilized Adobe Premiere's features to battle the glitching video Green, showcasing seamless teamwork and impressive adaptability, and ultimately dunking it into the recycling bin with a final breathtaking move. Not gonna lie, I was grinning like an idiot the whole episode.
What makes the glitching video green(I'm just going to refer to them as glitch from now on) unique is that they weren't an established entity like Herobrine, Youtube and Lucky Block. For the first time, the color gang were fighting someone, or something, that was entirely their own creation, hostile because they were created as a mistake.
Does that ring a bell? Yes, I'm talking about how similar the glitch was to Victim. Both were created unloved, both rebelled against their creator(s), and both met a swift end at the very hands that brought them to their existence.
So how was the glitch different? Why should Alan be blamed for abusing and murdering his creation but not the Color Gang? Is it because we're emotionally attached to the gang so we can turn a blind eye and convince ourselves it's not a big deal?
Well, not really. Unlike Alan, the color gang is totally justified in this.
Firstly, Alan created Victim out of malice (hence the name), Victim was meant to suffer, to be humiliated and toyed with, all for his creator's entertainment. But the color gang didn't hold such malice. Yes, the glitch was a result of their failed editing, but who would have thought they would suddenly gain sentience and came to life? (If all the failed editing projects I discarded in the past came back to haunt me I'd be buried three feet beneath the gound by now).
(And really, how does creation of digital life even work in the AVA universe? Why did this particular video come to life but not others? Is it just spontaneous and random? I guess this would remain a mystery like Second's creation unless Alan decides to explain it in future AVA episodes:/)
Secondly, the colour gang, although wary of the glitch, shown kindness upon the initial encounter.
Even after the glitch attacked Green first, Second still intervened to stop Red's aggression, instead grabbing the glitch in a questioning manner:" Why did you punch our friend when he was trying to be nice?"
It was only after Second too was struck to the ground did the gang start to treat the glitch as an enemy.
On the contrary, Alan started the assault, forced Victim to act in self defence, eventually deleting him.
Still, an overly sentimental part of me still felt bad for the glitch. Being created as a distortion, a mistake, unwanted and unloved, they had a reason to be mad at their creators. If only there was a way to get rid of those excessive effects and turn the glitch back to a normal video, then maybe the gang could earn themselves another cool friend.
Or maybe not. If the glitch's existence was born from their identity as a "mistake", would they still exist once that very "mistake" was rectified?
#alan becker#animator vs animation#ava the second coming#ava green#ava influencer arc#ava the glitch#ava red#ava victim#headcannon
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The Black Gay Asexual Potential of the Fifteenth Doctor (And Why It Will Never Happen) - Mini Essay
If you're wondering if any of these words are in the Bible, walk with me for a second!
Obviously the Doctor being Black is a huge moment for Black representation but also for Black queer representation in particular. After his smooch with Rogue and alleged hot summer with Houdini, RTD isn't shying away from an openly gay incarnation of the Doctor (bearing in mind, he's not the first as the Doctor's been queer, okay!). Plus the show is fully aware of Ncuti Gatwa's attractiveness with constant references to his hotness throughout the season and Ms Cherry Sunday catching feelings (good for her). But one aspect that's rarely spoken about is Fifteen as an asexual character. If the Doctor is an asexual character being played by a Black man in the main lineup for the very first time, we essentially have the very first Black asexual main character not only in the show's history, but in queer TV/Film history. And that would be huge. Groundbreaking even. But many fans (and likely RTD himself) aren't seeing Fifteen as asexual like previous incarnations. From the cries of the Doctor 'finally' becoming gay (like he didn't lipse Jack back in '05), the Doctor 'finally' becoming hot or the Doctor 'finally' being 'allowed to fuck', it's like Fifteen's asexuality has been erased before it could even exist to begin with. And whilst non-asexual gay identity deserves its representation too, especially as it's lacking for dark skin Black gay men, I can't help noticing the erasure not only of the potential of Fifteen's asexuality, but the non existent conversation about it in the first place and how it feeds into the long erasure of Black and gay identity from the face of the asexual spectrum and asexual representation as a whole.
Black asexual representation is rare, with the only Black asexual main character in film history being Selah Summers of Selah and the Spades. The only Black asexual boy in TV history is the recent character Elijah in Big Mouth. The sexualisation and desexualisation of Blackness play a key role in why Black aces are nonexistent in TV/Film. Through tropes like the Mandingo and the Jezebel and the fetishes of ebony and BBC, Black people are assumed to have an insatiable, animalistic sexual appetite stemming from slavery. Ncuti Gatwa's actually spoken about experiencing this fetishisation in white gay spaces. In reverse, tropes like the Mammy desexualise Black people, Black women especially. If Black people can't serve a sexual purpose then we have no sexuality at all and must give ourselves to exclusively performing domestic and physical labour. When you're asexual these stereotypes manifest in the most confusing way possible. On top of navigating a sexuality that's largely invisible itself already, you're balancing the sexual stereotypes of your desire that don't exist because of your alleged undesirability but also exist strongly enough to stop you from actually being asexual.
Prominent Black aroace activist and model Yasmin Benoit is the prime example as her aspec identity is constantly attacked by white conservatives and white TERFs, claiming she's 'too sexy' to be asexual. Even in outfits where she's fully dressed, the white conservative right sees her as too sexual to be asexual and that she is a 'heterosexual' sexual grifter. In other contexts, white conservatives and TERFs see her as 'sexualising asexuality' because she wears lingerie as a model whilst existing as an aroace (the horror!). In that respect they do recognise asexuality exists, but not for her specifically. Asexuality is real, but not in Black people. These stereotypes also manifest inside the asexual community itself. The image of the asexual in most people's minds, is a nerdy awkward white man (The Sheldon), a smart too-busy-for-a-girlfriend white man (The Sherlock) or if we're really, really lucky, the previous but a white woman (The Florence from Sex Education). Whilst ace visibility slowly grows and progress is still being made, Black asexuality is still missing from the conversation. Plus when you look at 'acceptable' asexual Doctors the incarnations form qwhite an interesting pattern. Socially, the idea of asexuality aligns closer with incarnations like One and Twelve, heavily explaining why claiming those two as ace is least likely to be controversial (The Aztec fans notwithstanding). #ThisIsWhatAsexualLooksLike was created by Benoit for this very reason. Black asexual men in ace activist circles such as Tyger Songbird and Marshall Blount have spoken about the erasure of Black men from asexuality specifically. The stereotypes about Black men's sexuality in particular like the Mandingo, the thug and the player can make it difficult for many Black men to come to terms with asexuality because of the sexual stereotypes they're societally expected to live up to. The Doctor Who fandom played into this a bit as I still remember the jokes about 'BBC having new meaning' once Ncuti Gatwa was cast. Whilst not necessarily hinging on his Blackness, there were also many memes and hyperfocus on Ncuti Gatwa's arse and crotch and large reactions to his nude magazine shoots. Whilst it's important not to stigmatise sexual desire whether it's of Fifteen himself or of the gay, bi and pan fans who find him attractive as their desire towards men is already stigmatised in wider society, sexual attraction to Black people doesn't an ally make. And participation in sex and sexuality is not unconditional, permanent consent. There's a difference between sexual attraction and sexualisation. Recognising someone as sexually attractive isn't at odds with recognising their own autonomy as a sexual being. And shouldn't be. From the already addressed sexualisation and invalidation of Yasmin Benoit's asexuality and aromanticism, the long history of the sexualisation of Black people and the specific sexual stereotyping of Black men, it's no surprise Black asexuality is left as an afterthought or impossibility. The Doctor Who fandom is no different.
From the very real sanitisation and repression of gay sexuality from the banning of gay men's books, criminalisation of homosexuality and 'homosexual acts' and the gay panic of the HIV/AIDS crisis, there's always been a fear and stigmatisation of gay sex and sexuality. But because of this, there's a knee-jerk reaction to sexless gay identity as it's seen as a side effect of gay sanitisation. Gay asexuality can't exist autonomously without being a sign of that repression. Alternatively, because of the sexual puritan idea that being gay is inherently sexually deviant and an inherently sexual identity, the asexual gay man 'can't' exist. This also explains the conservative rhetoric about Fifteen and RTD making the Doctor 'not asexual anymore', because to be gay and asexual in their eyes is an oxymoron due to their homophobia. This also bleeds into the erasure of bi, lesbian and pan asexualities too. As written before in my Thasmin thinkpiece, the Thirteenth Doctor's lack of sexual attraction to Yaz is seen as proof that not only that she doesn't love Yaz, but that Thirteen isn't even a 'real' sapphic or a 'real' strong female character. Under compulsory sexuality (and most Thasmin discoursers apparently) to be a sexually liberated woman and a sapphic means to have sex and sexual attraction. Thirteen's repressed, as in having a sexual attraction yet to be unlocked or a sexual attraction she was 'supposed' to have, but not autonomously ace as in not having it in the first place. So in a similar sense to Fifteen, ace-sapphic Thirteen got her wings clipped before she could ever properly fly. Linking back to gay asexuality specifically, the compulsory sexuality that prevents the acceptance of asexuality and the sexualisation and demonisation of gayness means to be 'to be gay and asexual is to coexist in conflict' according to queer writer Michael Paramo, who's consistently written the about these contradictions as a Mexican gay asexual person.
When gay asexuality and Black asexuality are brought up, it's almost exclusively in the context of desexualisation. Many and frankly too many people use asexual as a synonym for desexualised. This leads to a push to 'stop making POC asexual' and 'stop thinking gay people are asexual' plus constant reminders gay and Black people fuck with to 'correct' a sexlessness that's seen as abnormal for these groups to have, further pushing Black and gay asexuality to the back of a very, very long queue. If your asexuality can't exist because you're an inherently sexual being whether you want to be or not and it can't exist in the space where your sexuality is supposed to be free, where do you go? Where do the Black asexual and the gay asexual go if they aren't supposed to exist in the first place?
So enter the Fifteenth Doctor, we have a golden opportunity right here. Under antiblackness and homophobia wrapped in the ribbon of compulsory sexuality, you have a Black gay asexual incarnation of the Doctor. You have a character navigating layers on layers on layers of contradictions. You can navigate the gay experience in someone who experiences little to no sexual attraction. You can navigate the ace experience in someone who experiences romantic attraction to men. You can show two forms of queerness from an underrepresented dark skin Black lens. You show asexuality, Blackness and gay identity in how they overlap, intersect and shape one experience. You're showing a form of queerness that is never, and I mean never shown before.
And that brings me to why I don't think it will ever happen. If series 15, 16 or beyond proves me wrong the 'Black Gay Ace Fifteen is Amazing' thinkpiece will drop with a quickness. Trust me! But, RTD doesn't tend to write asexual characters. He focuses on the experiences of gay and bisexual men, has the occasional lesbian character and some trans characters. Apparently, there's an ace person interviewed in the Tofu web series in the 'Not Having Sex' episode so that's cool, but overall, The Asexual Character written by RTD is yet to be written. And I don't think they'll ever be. I don't expect RTD to write do this because I don't think queer writers, in this case, gay writers writing specifically about their own queerness slightly more than others is weird at all. I'm not surprised RTD writes mostly gay men as a gay man, so I'm not expecting or demanding asexual representation from him specifically. Similarly, from how RTD's written his Black characters in RTD1, I'm really not expecting him to make the next Moonlight. Whilst Roscoe from It's a Sin felt like a breath of fresh Nigerian gay air, this hasn't really translated into RTD2 yet. From 'Do you come in a range of different colours?' to how series 14 had no Black writers at all let alone queer Black ones and the atrocity that was Dot and Bubble, if Fifteen's experience as a Black queer person is missing or fumbled completely I won't be surprised.
That being said, RTD and Doctor Who are fully aware of its reputation as a queer show, as in an umbrella of all gender identities and sexualities. If Doctor Who both in show and fandom are pro-queer, as in embracing all forms of unconventional sexuality, as in being a safe haven for sexuality that's unrepresented and as in challenging the ideas of 'normal' sexuality then asexuality needs to be a part of that. No ifs, buts or excuses. I can't help but notice the coincidence of the Doctor 'not being asexual anymore' alongside the Doctor not being white anymore. And from the deliberate erasure of Black and gay asexuality on screen, inside asexual community and in wider queer community, I can't get behind another form of erasure even if it's accidental. The concept of Fifteen simply being demisexual, greysexual or a sex-favourable ace isn't even entertained in fandom either or the idea that Fifteen never stopped the Doctor's asexuality actually, but instead is just showing a flirty side of it. But even then it begs the question of why being Black and/or gay with no sexual attraction is seen as an impossibility. Why is letting go of sexual expectations of Black and gay people an impossibility? The Doctor Who fandom's and writer's (looking at you Moffat) long fear of asexuality is yet to be unpacked and until that day comes, I don't think we'll get close to any openly asexual doctor, let alone a Black and gay asexual one. Fifteen being asexual wouldn't dampen, sanitise or ruin him as a queer character. He could be flirty as can be, clubbing every night, skimpy outfit wearing, hot summers with Houdini galore and running off with Rogue into the sunset and still be asexual at the end of the day. Asexuality is a massive umbrella of different experiences, perspectives and people. It isn't asexuality that limits people, it's ignorant and restrictive attitudes about queerness that do. Asexuality doesn't, hasn't and will never restrict the Doctor's queerness, but compulsory sexuality does. And will.
I would love to be wrong about this and get bamboozled with Fifteen being written as a gay ace Black man in future series but knowing how RTD does Black characters in Doctor Who and the 'queer hierarchy' of the fandom, I won't be getting my hopes up. All I ask is that fandom and its writers be brave and look at representation different from their own. Something unfamiliar, something new, something borrowed, something blue. You could learn a lot. Queerness is a large umbrella after all. Anything is possible.
#doctor who#fifteenth doctor#doctor who fandom#nuwho#doctor who analysis#show analysis#rtd2 era#rtd2#rtd era#fifteen x rogue#timerogue#gay asexual#asexual#asexuality#black asexuality#black asexuals#black asexual#gay#asexual representation#ace representation#black representation#gay representation#rtd critical#queer representation
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Finding Peace
Taking shelter in an abandoned petrol station, tension builds between you and your family. As blame and arguments raise- not like you didn't feel guilty enough already. You didn't ask for this- any of this! You just wanted to help Optimus. And it's not like the Autobot leader didn't have problems of his own. Being hunted down by humans for reasons yet unknown was bad enough- but ignoring the yearning of his Spark has slowly become problematic. Occasionally shaking his helm attempting to get you out of his processors, trying to convince himself that a 'Sparkmate' was nothing but a romancide idea that the younger bots came up with. Or is it?...
Content: Minor coarse language. Event's take part in Transformers- Age of Extinction. (Leading to major spoilers in Part 4.) Optimus x Human F/Reader. Fluff. (Reader insert.)
Sparkmate Series- Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5
"Well... on the bright side." Tessa's voice lowly spoke, while sitting upon a dusty bar. Playing with some fairy lights. "You two have finally met.."
"Where's he from?"
"I told you. He's a driver from Texas."
"Texas?" Cade scoffed at Tessa's words. "Where? Dublin, Texas? Shamrock, Texas? So why does he sound like a leprechaun?"
Shane's brows knitted together, as he leaned against the bar. "You'd get your ass kicked in Ireland for saying that."
"Well we're not in Ireland, Lucky Charms. We're in Texas." Cade's attention turned back onto Tessa. "So he drives? What's that supposed to mean? Like he drives for a living?"
"Yeah... at least he makes a living."
Tessa's words caused Cade to fall silent. His eyes flickering up to you, frowning as you tried to avoid him.
"How old are you?" Cade challenged, approaching Shane.
"Twenty."
"And my daughter is seventeen. So as far as I'm concerned, this can go two ways." Cade leaned on the other side of the bar, glaring at Shane. "One, I punch you in the mouth right here, right now. And you call the police on me."
"Dad!-"
"Or two. I just call the cops on you because this is illegal. She's a minor!"
Steady... Steady... your thoughts wandered, while trying to focus on making a 'house of cards' out of beer coasters.
"We're protected by the 'Romeo and Juliet laws'-"
"We dated for a little while." Tessa explained, cutting Shane off. "I was a sophomore, and he was a senior. It's fine."
"We've got a pre-existing juvenile foundational relationship. Statute 2705-3." Shane took out his wallet, showing Cade the small card stating the law. "We're above board."
Cade sighed, "Romeo and Juliet, huh? Do you know how they ended up?"
Just... one more coaster...
"In love-"
"Dead." Cade turned to you. "And you, Y/N?"
Shit...
An unamused expression fell across your features as the coasters came tumbling down.
"Don't look at me like that, young lady. How long have you known about this?"
Cade rubbed his temples as you silently responded with a small shrug. "Well tell me. Days? Weeks?-"
"Months."
"Months...? And you didn't think that I would of wanted to know about this?-"
"Dad. Tessa is a full grown ass adult." You groaned. "She's capable of learning from a mistake or two."
"I trusted you. Both of you-"
"To what?" Tessa butted in. "Never have fun. Take a risk. Be a normal teenager like you?"
"I am your father, okay!" Cade firmly spoke, turning his attention onto Tessa. "And I've been busting my ass to take care of you and your sister!-"
"Oh so is that why I'm busting a gut trying to juggle two jobs?" You scoffed. "And here I thought, I'm the one who took care of this family."
"Is that what you were doing when you continued working on that damn truck?" Tessa spoke to you. A frown forming upon her lips, "all you had to do was report it.-"
"You know I couldn't do that-"
"And now we're forced into hiding. And my life is over! So 'thank you', Sis. You've taken 'real good' care us-"
"None of this would of happened! If you just kept your fucking mouth shut!-"
"Don't talk to your sister like that!" Cade stepped in.
"Sure Dad. Take her side... you always do."
"Y/N-"
"Look! I get it!" you raised onto your feet. "I know I'm 'the disappointment', 'the let down'-"
"Sweetie, I've never said that-"
Your eyes wandered over your dad's disappointed expression. "You didn't had to..."
---
Sitting upon the petrol stations' roof, the gentle breeze of the cool night air felt refreshing against your skin. Soft chirping of crickets eased your headache, your eyes gazing out into the dark empty road. The sound of small grunts and sighs caught your attention, briefly gazing over your shoulder. Rolling your eyes, once seeing Tessa struggling to climb the ladder with a mug in hand.
"What do you want?" you sighed, turning your attention back onto the road ahead.
"I thought- ouch!- that you could do with a hot drink."
The sound of the metal roofing warping and creaking, under Tessa's feet suddenly felt loud. As she approached you, taking a sit upon the roof's edge, leaving a small gap between you.
"I made your favourite." She kindly spoke, handing you the hot beverage. "I couldn't make it exactly to your liking, but it's the thought that counts. Right?"
Her weak smile faded as you remained silent. Speechlessly accepting the mug from her and holding it in your hands.
"You're not a disappointment." Tessa spoke after a brief hesitation. "For if it wasn't for you, we would of lost our home ages ago."
Tessa bit her lip before continuing, "I... did tell a friend about the truck. B-But I honestly didn't think he would believe me! If I knew- I wouldn't of..."
Your side glance caused her voice to trail off into silence.
"Well... what I'm trying to say... is that I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
Sipping the hot beverage, feeling the gentle warmth fill you inside. Tessa followed your gaze, a small smile returning to her lips.
"You're worried about him. Aren't you?"
"Is it that obvious?"
"Yes." Tessa teased. "Like a lovesick girl."
You returned her smile, playfully pushing her away. "Oh shut up. You're talking nonsense, I'm just concerned about him. That's all."
"Uh-huh?" Tessa raised an eyebrow. Seeing a glimpse of you trying to hide a shy smile behind the mug.
"So... What's Dad doing?" you asked, trying to change the subject.
"Playing with some drone that he stole from the one of the guys. Dad's convinced that they would of truly killed us."
Tessa's heart sank as she watched you pull your legs close to your chest, hugging your knees a little while resting your mug against them.
"B-But that's just Dad's crazy thought." Tessa's guilt weighed on her heart a little more. Starting to wish she never said anything.
"Everything would of been fine, if only I watched what I was saying." You buried your head, resting your forehead against your knees and hiding your face. "I-If I didn't panic..."
"Shhh. Shhh." Tessa cooed, closing the gap between you. Placing her arm around your shoulders and resting her head against yours. "It's not your fault. You have a big heart, Y/N. Never be ashamed of that."
She gently pulled away, cupping your tearstained face and making you face her. "You are a rare treasure, and that Transformer better know that."
Finally smiling through your tears, Tessa rested her forehead against yours. The sound of a horn blaring in the distance broke the silence, while bright headlights burned the darkness away. You quickly raised onto your feet, causing Tessa to catch the falling mug while the hot beverage spilled onto the ground below.
You placed both hands against your chest, while gazing at the oncoming truck. Feeling it flutter with joy, as the sound of a faminular engine came to your ears.
Tessa rose onto her feet, giving you one last soft glance before leaving. A knowing smile forming upon her lips. You've got it bad...
Optimus carefully reduced his speed, as he walked out of his altmode. Trying to slow the pulsing rhythm of his spark as he approached you. Being mindful of each step he took, so it didn't appear like he was in a rush to be beside you again.
"Optimus..." your voice was low. Trying to hide the excitement within your tone.
"My deepest sympathies for your home." His soothing tone washed away the doubt and worries, that had been building up inside you. "And for leaving you so promptly. But I had to confirm we weren't followed."
You speechlessly nodded, trying to hold a relaxed expression as your eyes took in the sight of him.
Oh my...
Rust and dirt no longer coated his exterior, instead deep blue metal plates framed his chrome fisque, like pieces of armour. Your heart skipping a beat as your eyes wandered over him, taking in every detail of his broad shoulders and strong biceps.
Red flames danced across the gauntlets, but it was his torso you couldn't look away from. Your cheeks matched the warmth of Optimus' spark, as you gazed at his chest plate. Hands clutching onto your shirt, stopping the urge to reach out and run your fingertips over his toned form. Knowing that your touch wouldn't just stopped at that chromed waist of his.
"Loving the upgrade." Forcing the words out of your mouth, after swallowing your nerves.
Optimus got down on one knee, as you edged a little closer to the side of the roof. His blue optics studied you for a moment.
"You've been crying..."
Something inside him ached a little, as you temporarily turned away from him.
"It's nothing." You assured, brushing the dried tears off your cheeks. "I've just been... a little worried that's all."
"And I admittedly have been concerned about you."
That little sentence erupted butterflies in your stomach. Simply gazing up at him with wondering eyes.
How the stars sparkled in your eyes almost caused Optimus to choke on his own breath. Warmth begun to build beneath his metal plates, as his yearning spark called out for you.
His head tilted slightly as his scanners picked up something. Your body froze as he slightly hesitated before reaching out to you. Optimus' servo curled into a relaxed fist, your eyes peering down at it as he gently placed the knuckle of his index digit under your chin. While his thumb rested against your cheek.
His spark skipped a beat as a loving sigh slipped out of your mouth. Enjoying the cool touch of his metal against your soft skin.
Optimus carefully turned your head from side to side, studying your features. His scanners picking up the bruise that begun to form upon the bridge of your nose.
"That bastard hurt you." The small underlying anger within his tone caught you off guard. "I promise... I'll make him pay for what he's done to you."
"Optimus." You cooed, placing your hand on the back of his servo. Bringing it to the side of your face, resting your head against his digits.
His fans tried to push the warm air out of Optimus' vents, as the heat beneath his plates begun to build. His spark aching with a yearn he could no longer deny.
Closer... The word played on his processors. Causing him to fully kneel against the concrete ground, leaning in a little more.
Your loving eyes met the soft glow of his optics, as his servo slowly trailed down towards your waist. His thumb tracing the curves of your thighs, hips and waist.
The butterflies in your stomach tangled your nerves, your heart fluttering against your chest as a small gasp slipped from your lips. Eyes lingering over his features before closing, as you rested a hand against his chest plate.
As your heart matched the beat of Optimus' spark, syncing in harmony. A beautiful glow enveloped the pair of you, creating a warmth that made you almost forget about the world, as your lips ghosted over one another.
"Mr. Leader of the Free Galaxy is back!" an unknown mechanical voice caused you to quickly jump away from Optimus. "I knew you'd make it! I never doubted."
Crosshairs... Optimus' processors sighed. Trying to hide his disappointed expression as the leader faced his joyful Autobots. The sound of their roaring engines calming, before stepping out of their altmodes.
"We've got your warning." Drift greeted, "we've been waiting."
"Hell yeah! Boom time!" Hound cheered. "We've got the gang back together."
Drift tilted his head to the side, as his blue optics switched between you and Optimus. Smiling to himself as his processors picked up, the afterglow that slowly faded from the pair of you.
Optimus cleared his throat before speaking, "Autobots. The humans have asked us to play by their rules. Well... those rules have just changed."
"Humans, bunch of backstabbing weasels." Hound groaned, causing the ground to shake as he disarmed. Throwing heavy weaponries onto the floor.
"Hound, find your inner compass. Loyalty is nothing but a flower in the winds of fear and temptation."
Hound raised a brow at Drift's wise tone, "what the hell are you saying?"
The blue Autobot smiled, "it's a haiku-"
"Cut the crap! Before I drop a grenade down your throat."
You backed away from the edge of the roof, as Drift unsheathed his swords. "Try it" he challenged, "you'll be dead."
"Oh please do it." Hound taunted. "I wanna see you do it."
"You know what?" Bumblebee's radio buzzed, "it save us so much time."
Optimus gave you an unimpressed expression, as you gazed up at him, raising an eyebrow. A small chuckle left you as he speechlessly gestured to his Autobots. As to say, 'look what I have to put up with.'
"Well raise your hand, if you're thoroughly disenchanted with our little 'Earth vacation.'" Crosshairs spoke, while circling the petrol station. His green optics studying you, "so who's the spy?"
"Whoa! Whoa! Put those things away!" you yelped as Hound and Crosshairs immediately withdraw their guns, and pointing them at you.
"Stop, Hound! Both of you!" Optimus commanded, stepping in front of the building.
Both Autobots gave their leader a puzzled expression, as he continued. "Y/N, risked her life for mine. We owe her..."
Drift gave Bumblebee a playful nudge, discreetly pointing at you and Optimus. While Hound and Crosshairs briefly looked at one another, and turning their attention back onto their leader. Watching him stepping aside, and silently encouraging you to return to the roof's edge.
"Has there been... any sign of the others?" Optimus asked.
"No..." Hound sighed, withdrawing his weapon and settling himself upon the ground. "We're all that's left."
"They're picking us off, one by one!" Crosshairs explained.
"We're the pathetic, dirty foursome." Hound joked, "and you make five."
"Is this our best-case scenario?" Shane's teasing voice questioned you. Your eyes gazed at him, watching the Irishman climb onto the roof. "Autobot witness protection?"
"Hey Lucky Charms." you spoke, placing a hand upon your hips. "You're welcome to leave at anytime."
"Well, for the record, Super Sister. I'm not hiding with you." Shane gestured towards Optimus, "I'm hiding out with that big guy."
Tessa and Cade followed Shane's lead, as the three of them approached your side. All looking at the Autobots and they chatted among themselves.
"Sensei, with your fate unknown Bumblebee has held command." Drift's optics gazed at the yellow scout.
Bee fist bumped the air, while Drift rolled his optics. "Despite his complete and total lack of anything resembling warrior discipline."
An annoyed whirl weeze out of Bumblebee, as his optics narrowed on his comrade.
"He's like a child-"
"This 'child' is about to kick your ass!" Bee's radio buzzed. Landing the first hit against Drift's helm.
"Cage fight." Hound whispered to you, slightly leaning against the petrol stations' roof.
"What's the matter with them?" Tessa lowly asked, reaching out for your hand.
"They're on edge." You briefly explained, allowing her hand to slip into yours. "Who could blame them? They're being hunted."
"Am I the only one who sees through this puppy-dog act of yours?" Drift taunted Bee, while holding him in a headlock. "It's beneath you."
"Yes, I've been waiting for them all to dispatch each other." Crosshairs cheered. His servos gently clapping, "so I could take charge with no trouble at all. Just me. Reporting to me."
"Well, it sure looks like you've been missed." You said to Optimus.
"Autobots, humans are hunting us down. We need to know why."
"Listen..." Cade spoke, stepping towards Optimus. "I don't know why, but I might have an idea about who..."
---
"This drone I stole recorded footage of an Autobot raid." Cade explained.
You placed an affectionate hand upon Optimus' knee, as he sat cross-legged upon the floor. His servo clenching into a fist, as the dragonfly-like drone projected the video footage.
"It's in pieces, but watch what happens here." Cade pointed out, "they ripping them apart."
"That's Leadfoot." Hound spoke, as he placed a part of his helm over his spark. Feeling the saddened energy sink within his chest plates. "Savages."
"And later, this truck comes to haul him off to K.S.I. Kinetic Solutions." Cade continued. "They're creating defenses, aerospace, government contracts. They designed this drone."
"So these government guys are hunting you down, and then passing you of to this K.S.I?" Shane questioned.
"Do you know anything else?" Optimus asked.
"Only that their company headquarters is in Chicago." Cade spoke.
Perhaps... There's a chance of the Autobots being taken there. You thought.
"No way to get inside without a battle." Hound thought out loud.
"What if you had some human help?" everyone looked at you.
"Sweetie, no." Cade protested. "Besides, what are you two partners now?"
"Dad, we're targets now too." You spoke, feeling his worried stare on you. "We need to know why, or we'll never get our lives back."
"Y/N. You have done more than any of us could've asked for." Optimus kindly spoke. "I do not-"
"I'm coming." You gently argued. Seeing Tessa's encouraging smile from the corner of your eye.
"It's going to be dangerous." Drift warned, as he lend towards you.
The blue Autobot stiffed as you placed a comforting hand upon his knee. Giving him a warm smile, "you're important Optimus. Therefore, you're important to me.
A suttle warmth radiated from underneath Drift's metal plates.
"Autobots." Optimus spoke, as he raised onto his feet. "I have sworn to never kill humans."
"Big mistake." Hound mumbled
"But when I find out who's behind this. He's going to die..."
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A manswear blogger in twitter is talking about seat and bust adjustments in clothing. I can't stop but think about a stucky tailor shop au where Steve goes to get his trousers and jackets adjusted and getting all flustered. I mean Buck doesn't need even be the tailor. He can be a shop sitting friendly neighbour or smtn
spiritually, this ask feels connected to this gorgeous piece of fanart
and while we're here, on the topic, this art too 👀
Oh my god
Oh. my. god.
I can see this so well in my mind, and goddamn, this is such a good idea, too! We've all seen Steve Rogers--and Chris Evans by proxy--and we all fucking know he needs clothes to be custom fitted, so, of course, Bucky would have to step in. It's only fitting.
Every universe, they find each other and take care.
Why wouldn't tailor Bucky make sure Captain America Steve is well-fitted, thus, well taken care of?
I imagine that the whole situation would spring out of the teasing relationship that exists between Natasha and Steve. The first person to ask Steve if he knows how to dress himself is Nat--she asks if he wants some tips to blend in to the background, as she's become so adept to, yet allowing him to choose his own clothes rather than being chosen for him. She cracks a smile when suggesting he stay out of the sizes he used to wear or don't, that's pretty fitting for the modern century, too. Natasha will readily workout with Steve; the contrast in their focus while fighting makes it actually challenging, besides, it's refreshing, too, to have someone look at her and not underestimate her based on her size. It's during those workouts where Natasha suggests, teasing while blowing a sweaty tendril of hair out of her face noisily, multi-tasking as always, that they get matching sports bras. Before he's used to the comments, Steve sputters, but eventually, he laughs them off--he's still working on controlling his blush, though.
He doesn't... it's not, they're not... no.
He doesn't need a bra. It's not like it's uncomfortable. Natasha asks if he's sure it's not uncomfortable once, still grinning like a shark, pleased with their dynamic--her teasing and his batting back once he has his feet underneath himself--because she knows how tight clothes get. Then, Nat tugs at the collar of his clinging shirt, "I don't dress in clothes that tight unless it's for a special occasion."
"Oh, special?" Steve raises an eyebrow at her.
"Yeah," she responds, her mouth twisted, "like when I'm bagging targets."
"Lucky them," he huffs out a laugh.
She's already distracted by the opening their conversation has given her, still sparring, "mmm-hmm."
Commets and jests aside, Steve doesn't stop dressing himself in such tight clothes. Maybe Natasha's clothes or women's clothes generally are built differently, but Steve doesn't find it uncomfortable. Not within himself. Sometimes, he gets stares that drag on too long, sending a weird feeling through his tummy, maybe more than discomfort, but he rationalizes that it's sooner the onlookers recognition of Captain America walking the streets and less barely-restrained-attraction.
Still.
Steve's wordrobe full of tight clothes doesn't change, everything off-the-rack *tries very hard not to make a joke about Steve's rack* until Natasha corners him after another gala, doing her version of begging to just get some clothes that fucking fit.
Basically, she stares him down until he folds like a house of cards. Rolling his eyes but snatching the business card, she's pointing at him like a gun out of her hands and promising he'll make an appointment for himself.
If he doesn't appoint himself, Natasha will, and she'll go with him, and she will list off each and every painful detail in plain clarity to the tailor with Steve there, in the room, standing on that little pedestal under lights and in front of full mirrors, to blush up a storm...
The strain of his shirts across his shoulders, thinning the fabric to near transparency. The screaming of the seams of his underarms, suffering from his biceps. His boob gaps with those little diamonds of pale skin or undershirt showing through that just don't go away, he can't escape them, his chest is just too big. The atrocious extra, wrinkling, loose fabric of his shirts where they bunch up around his ballerina waist, never concealed no matter how desperately he tries to stuff the extra fabric into his jeans, belted tightly. His belts! He can't ever seem to find belts that don't have all this extra length to them, his waist with just the opposite problems to his shoulders, chest, and arms. The line of his lower body always seems to be a little cut off, his pants understandably too short when facing up to those mile long legs. His ass doesn't fit in his too short pants, nor do his thighs! That has to change.
He needs some change.
He looks fucking great, he does, Natasha is not challenged by other people's interest in Steve when matchmaking, she is challenged by Steve's interest in others and she... she would just like to see some confidence in her friend. The easiest, fastest way to feeling like a whole new human, she knows, is fashion.
So...
A tailor.
Steve is going to see a tailor.
One highly recommended and researched by Natasha. Apparently, according to his website (which Steve gets from his card), this tailor normally works with women and women's garments but isn't above making exceptions.
Steve doesn't want to be a bother, but... Nat assures him that he'll be fine. He's curvy enough, more than. This is all out of the goodness of her heart, after all. She just can't stand to see the pain his clothes are in! And if he won't be set up with a nice girl, boy, or whoever for an off-the-books encounter, then she damn will set him up with a professional. Not that kind. Not yet? Who's to say what she'll get Steve into...
Despite how having Natasha with him would help ease his anxieties (and hurt, just mildly hurt, because he would like to retain some of his dignity if possible, thank you very much, Nat, if she were here, he would stick his tongue out at her), Steve makes his appointment and attends it alone.
Alone with this fucking tailor.
This tailor that looks like he might as well have been made by a fucking sculptor. He makes art through fashion but, Jesus Christ, he is also art. When Steve first meets him--led to the back of a warm, pleasantly-cramped storefront by a welcoming, peppy assistent--he is struck dumb by the tailors beauty. He fumbles his words when reaching for a handshake. As it turns out, he doesn't need Natasha here to embarrass himself. Great!
This guy.
His face.
Pale gold skin with bone structure that will actually haunt Steve until he etches it onto paper. Eyes the most entrancing color--blue, grey, nearly silver. Lips pink and soft-looking, shadowed by a beard trimmed down to the prettiest stubble. The bridge of his nose looks like a statue smoothed by one of the ancient masters. And shiny, wavy hair styled into something that's half collected behind his head in a knot and half falling effortlessly over his shoulders. He looks every bit put together, his hair done, his face shimmering with what might be subtle makeup, but if it's not, then he's just the worst kind of perfect human being, his clothes immaculate, fitted ideally, accessorized beautifuly, and--
The way he talks. He's so confident and in his element, but so nice too. Sweet and caring.
The way he looks at Steve, like he's a person, like he's interesting, listening, but also calculating, already planning what he can do for him, how he can flatter him, how, how, how--
That's the fucking question.
How is this guy real?
He wants to hear what Steve has come in for, but based on how he nods along, he doesn't need Steve to say any of it. He already knows. He's that damn good.
After Steve's done, his unsure words stalling out in a stutter, Bucky jumps in immediately, rattling off tailor jargon for what he can do for him. Bust adjustments for the gaps in his buttoned shirts. Underarm adjustments to help his arms fit better in his shirts. Other seam stretching when it can be done to try and fit his arms more, too. Seat adjustments for all his pants from casual jeans to formal slacks. Waist suppression on all his shirts, suit jackets, and maybe even a few of his less formal jackets. Letting out hems on the pants that can be saved. Forming new, custom patterns for all of the above where the existing clothes Steve already has just can't be altered to the extent they're looking for.
And...
After they get to know each other, after Steve comes back again and again, bringing armfuls of clothes with him each time, plus slowly taking more clothes from Bucky's place of work, too, new custom clothes that fit impressively perfectly, Bucky notices something else that should be altered in Steve's wardrobe.
Steve becomes Bucky's most regular client. It seems like they don't go a week, at most, without seeing each other. So, it's natural that Bucky would begin to notice things about Steve. Habits. Bucky is a damn good tailor, and he's learned to pick up on body language to know when a client is having issues that they might not even be aware of. Steve has a habit of--when he thinks no one is looking as he sits waiting for Bucky to be ready for him--of adjusting himself. Sure, whatever, your dick and balls get bunched up in your underwear and pants sometimes. It's normal. It happens. And you gotta do what you gotta do when your dick isn't happy. Normally, Bucky wouldn't think twice about it. But...
Steve does it a lot.
Now, Bucky has a very good spatial memory. A memory that's aided by plenty of opportunities to be close to Steve's body with a fair number of those opportunities being at Steve's feet. Measuring the inseams of his pants, shorts, or what have you, hemming or unhemming his pants, finding the circumference of his muscular thighs, adjusting the fit of the seat of his pants, all very professional. Steve likes to talk, though, so a lot of the time Bucky is down there, and he's looking up at Steve and...
He's just a man.
Just a weak man with the most attractive man he's ever fucking seen in his whole life on his step riser, calling his eyes up, past the crotch of his pants... sometimes he looks. He tries not to. But. He has. He does.
And when he connects how often he catches Steve adjusting himself to how much time he's spent forming a spacial awareness of Steve's body, Bucky knows what adjustment needs to be made to his clothes that they have yet to tackle. Steve, sweet guy, must be too shy to bring it forward. It's perhaps similar to saying, hey, none of my pants fit because my ass is superhuman-ly pert and round and you could bounce quarters off of it, but at the same time, it is much more... intimate... to say, hey, my dick doesn't fit in my pants, either. Could we do something about that, maybe?
Bucky shivers, trying not to think about why and failing miserably... is it too long? Too thick? Both? God, his balls probably don't help, do they? Bucky might be weak at the knees, thinking of his whole package, but especially heavy, heavy balls, fuck, what he wouldn't give to get on his knees and rub his face against them, all that musky vitality, such a big boy, and--
Bucky is so unprofessional.
Jesus Christ.
What is wrong with him?
Steve just needs a gusset! He's done that a million times without fantasizing about his clients' bodies. It's just different now. Why now?! Bucky knows why...
Ughhh.
It's fucking different because Steve is so nice, so shy yet, so witty and sassy when he wants to be, he smells so good, and his hands are delightfully warm when Bucky accidentally missteps and almost falls, but no matter, Steve's lightning fast reflexes will always be there to catch him. It's different because Bucky has a big, fat crush on the one, the only Captain America back from the dead, who's bursting out of all his clothes with his stupid, perfect sculpted body, always obscene no matter what Bucky puts him in, loose or tight clothing. Always genuine, no matter what Bucky throws at him, even if he does get a little embarrassed.
Guh.
Bucky is so fucked.
Steve is so fucked, too, matching Bucky's idioticness. Steve's head is so full of Bucky that he can't think of anything else. Anyone else. He scrounges up every piece of stupid clothing he has to be altered, just as an excuse to be around Bucky. He sweats through his shirts, peering down at Bucky from his place on that little step-stool, riser-thing, whatever fancy name Bucky had for it, and tries not to think about the position out of context. And, worst of all, he has to fight for his life to block out the sense memory of Bucky's hands on his body through his clothes when he's alone and drifting. He can't think about his tailor when he's jerking off, he just can't! That's so bad!
Steve is so fucked.
...if only they could figure out some other way of being fucked. Together.
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QL Grievances 2024 Part Two: The Bad Stuff
So, I posted the Good Stuff that I liked earlier, now it's time for tthe Bad Stuff. However, I would like to preface this by saying that these are just my opinions, okay? If you see me disliking something that you loved, it isn't an attack on you - we're all pals here <3
The Most Ableist Ending Ever: Last Twilight
This was such a fantastic series and really made me enjoy JimmySea...but then they just went and ruined all the growth and progression by returning Day's sight. I totally get it was meant to be a happy ending etc. but it was so unrealistic and rather classist as well as ableist. It was such a disappointment, and every time I see the show win an award I can't help but feel like it doesn't completely deserve it.
Biggest Let Down Of An Ending: The Sign
I was OBSESSED with this show as it was airing. I loved it so much, but then the last episode just phoned it in. After a lifetime of stalking Tharn, the Doc just let's him go a year later? There was also not nearly enough scenes with the Nagas. I am thankful that this series brought us BillyBabe, and it was a fantastic show up until the finale.
Worst (Fake) Tattoos In A Seres: Kant, The Heart Killers
You have absolutely no idea how much I hate these tattoos. Okay, I'm not a tattoo experct, but I have been getting tattoos for 20+ years now and I have a pretty decent collection on my body. Kant's tattoos are startingly fake, and putting him in scenes with actors who actually have tattoos makes them look worse. You can see the shine of the transfer, you can see it rubbing off in places, and you can even see the sticky edges. IT'S HORRIBLE. It makes me so sad because First looks amazing in the series but I keep wishing he was in long sleeves because every time I look at those tattoos I get irrationally angry. Like, why are they so bad? Look at Win from Between Us - his tattoos look great! And even Joke from Jack and Joker's look pretty decent (albeit a little I Got These From A Lucky Bag). AND THEN THERE'S THE DESIGNS THEY'VE PICKED. Like, the blocked lines that don't wrap around the limb - WHY? And they all look so similar? Like, was there a sale on transfer packs? The only one that looks half decent is the one on his back. I'm sorry, but I just. I just HATE them so much. So. Fucking. Much.
Worst Change To An Existing Character: Pai, Cherry Magic
Don't get me wrong, I love Pai and her fangirling ways, but I really wish they had kept her asexual. Or, at the very least, single; like, the point of her character (to me, anyway) always felt like it was her discovering she's fine on her own, she's a strong, independant woman. It would also have been good to just see someone enjoying their life and not needing romance. (Which, I guess she kinda had a little of, since it was Rock that pursued her and she was a bit nonchalant for most of it.)
Worst Acting In A Series: Dead Friend Forever
I had to quit the series half way through because the acting was just so bad. Okay, Ta, Barcode and Copper were fantastic, but everyone else was awful. The writing was pretty awful, too. Like, the premise was promising, and it would have made a great horror movie, but the series was too long and too bad. (I will say, however, Fuaiz and JJay really showed up for 4 Minutes and did so much better in that.)
Worst Adaption Of An Already Existing Series: Love in the Air: Koi no Yokan
Another series I had to drop because I was just not vibing. I'm supportive of the series existing but it was just not for me. The casting all feels wrong (other than Arashi, who was great), and having the story so condensed down felt wasted. Fuma and Kai just felt super weird and did not fit the characters, I don't think? LITA (Thai) wasn't perfect at all, but it most definitely is the superior series.
Worst Acceptance Of A Character's Bad Actions: Perfect 10 Liners
So, I am obsessed with this show but I am still pretty mad how everyone just kinda accepted that Arc was a racerboy and endangered lives? Like, the way it was all, "you hurt Arm, do you care now?" and like, it only took hurting someone in their group for Arc to stop speeding? That rubbed me the wrong way. Like, I know his friends kinda called him out, but they were also the ones who were like OH CAN YOU GIVE ARM A RIDE HOME (in the first episode) even though they knew what Arc was like.
And that's all from me for now! I actually feel like I complain too much, and again, all of this is just my thoughts and whinings; no hate to shows/characters/actors/creators!
#bl grievances 2024#bl superlatives 2024#thai drama#jdrama#the heart killers#perfect 10 liners#love in the air: koi no yokan#cherry magic#dead friend forever#the sign#last twilight#bl drama#drama
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Alright, KFP fandom, we gotta talk about "Discrimination" 🎉
Cause, not even to be mean, y'all kinda dumb. Y'all sound like the type of person to tell me "No racism exists in the North" and lemme tell ya as someone from the North, there is but it's DIFFERENT. And before you ask, Yes this is about The Chameleon (who will be called Cammy cause I am lazy and deserve to be paid for this shit.) and the fandoms massive misunderstanding of her single line about being denied access to Kung Fu because she's "little". And I see your lil fingers tapping away to howl about "MASTER MANTIS" and some LOA rejects. And remember that earlier example I brought up about discrimination existing in the north but its just different from the South? Yeah, its the same thing. Some people can get past that challenge but some of us aren't that lucky and you all forget about my MAIN MAN, THE GOAT, Crane!!!
Yeah, the brother whose almost as tall as Tigress, yeah he was discriminated against for his skinny frame and detered from trying out and I think it's funny y'all leave my boy out but that doesn't fit your little gotcha, now does it?
but that's okay, that's why you have me, to be your funny and slightly cute know it all~💕 Back to the topic at hand, this conversation also leaves out how Po wanted Shifu to change him, after all the verbal abuse that lil man hurled at him. This is where that line "We're not so different, you and I." comes to shine. Cammy didn't have an event such as Oogway's death to shake those Master's to their core to train her. No, they were probably just proud teachers who denied all those beneath them, which is not uncommon, you can see this in a lot of Kung fu flicks, keeping certain arts from certain territories close and always wanting to prove whose kung fu is superior. Again, NORMIES GO WATCH IP MAN! Go watch peak cinema!!!! It's on YOUTUBE FOR FREE: https://youtu.be/zGD9OFmxYXM?si=XL-aetJOnCSftIP_
Anyways, I hope this enlightened you all a bit so we can stop this very shallow puddle of an argument against her words cause you sound ignorant doing that considering all the discrimination present in the series as it is, especially Tigress. Whoo, that needs its own post! That's next level of discrimination upon a child. 💀 Anyways, stop forgetting about Crane!!!!
#kung fu panda#master crane#the chameleon#taylor talks#im sorry but yall do sound ignorant going oh but what about#bruh thats like saying why MJ reach the top and I haven't#well I cant dance for one but ssshhh#you get my point#different people different experiences#thinking is good guys I promise
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