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#words are fleeting.
gloopdimension · 1 year
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the culture of hands in hylicworld is so interesting to ponder esp w/ the main cast(and odogibby bc i like them).
wayne. he grew up in a culture mostly separate from the more popular one so while hes not unaware of how hands are seen/interpreted in certain contexts he has a hard time caring for it. if gloves didnt look so good on him he’d probably leave them off more often than not
soms. similar situation. i think for her the culture shes from enforces the idea that bodies overall are to be cherished (which leaves her with overwhelming guilt when she doesn’t take care of her own. in her defense she is like straight up depressed.) rather than hands specifically
dedus. i think out of the crew she’s the most in-touch with the hand thing. 1 out of her love of other cultures and her own 2 just a norm she’s grown up around. She’s indulged in a pongorma hand drawing many-a-time i’d believe.
pongorma. in my mind he was raised around the sacred hand idea but his rebellious nature (esp when he was young) led him to think against it and not fully Get Why its such a big thing. wears gloves for the sake of decency of others+stylish i think. doesn’t mean he doesnt understand the meaning of bare-handed handholding hes Well versed in all that
gibby. neck-deep in that whole thing. he”s an interesting case though b/c his hands do Not fit the beauty norm and he’s very insecure about himself overall. if his gloves ever slipped off in the middle of a packed hallway he’d probably demand everybody to avert their gaze 1 cus its common knowledge +decency 2 for his own sake and confidence
odozeir. same as gibby just without the insecurity. hes a little freak about gibs paws and i think the first time he saw gibbys hands and he Willingly revealed them as a sign of vulnerability and overwhelming trust he somehow fell even More in love w/ him bc he never knew flaws like this could be so attractive
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myrkulitescourge · 4 months
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can i just say, it still makes me feel a little crazy how astarion, come act 3, still can’t quite put a name to his relationship with his partner, but he WILL tell them he wants to keep them both safe.
he won’t say i love you just yet but he will say forever, for good.
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ryllen · 1 month
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they may not speak highly of you... but i miss you story english VA zayne .
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mae-i-scribble · 7 months
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Shipping joongdok not in a "they should hold hands and kiss and maybe have sex" sort of way but the "you give my life meaning," "i have chosen you time and time again and will keep choosing you," "i would throw myself away to save you," "even when separated by time and space i will keep trying to reach out to hold onto your precious existence, "i thought i understood you more than i understood myself but along the way i lost sight of who you were but will never stop trying to understand you," "i want you to rest, i want you to be happy, and i want you to feel loved," and the "there is no one else in this world who means quite the same to me as you do" sort of way
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thinking about Jake showing you what being edged is like for the first time
“I know, baby,” Jake coos, fingers slowing to a stop, that sweet high dwindling down to nothing but a dull ache. Again. “You wanted me to show you. Be a tough girl, baby. I promise it’ll be worth it.”
“Ja-ake- pleaseeee,” you whine, a lump forming in your throat from how desperate you feel. He’s only edged you three times, but it feels more like a hundred.
“Does it ache, sweet girl?” Jake asks, that gentle, yet taunting lilt to his voice making your head spin even more. “Just one more time and I’ll let you cum, okay?”
You open your mouth to speak, but words are quickly stripped away from you as Jake sinks his fingers back inside you.
With each denied orgasm, the quicker your body builds back up. Luckily (or unfortunately) for you, Jake knows your body almost better than his guitar. He plays you just like it, loving the noises he can draw out out of you just with his fingers alone.
“Don’t cum,” Jake half warns, curling his middle and ring fingers into that soft spot within you, mercilessly abusing it while his thumb circled your clit.
“Shut up, Jake,” you moan out, knowing good and well that if he keeps talking to you like this, you most definitely will. There will be no controlling it.
A low giggle erupts from him, also knowing good and well that he can make you cum just by talking.
The unbearable heat returns low stomach, making your eyes squeeze shut and another whimper to leave your mouth.
Jake’s fingers freeze, his thumb lifting away from your throbbing bundle of nerves, to avoid any sort of touch there accidentally throwing you over the edge too soon.
“Fuck- I’m gonna- take you fingers out, Jake please! I’m not- I can’t-“
“Shhhhh, hold it.” Jake commands gently, leaving his fingers buried inside, but keeping them still. “You’re not gonna cum yet.”
For a second, you feel like you might - even without any friction or movement, but after a few seconds, the pressure subsides and you’re left with that dull ache again.
You breathe out a shaky sigh, tears welling up in your eyes.
“See? I know you.” Jake smirks, adjusting himself above you so that his forearm is propping his body up above yours, his other hand still buried between your legs. He leans down, placing a soft kiss to your cheek, admiring the pink tint they’ve taken on. “Do you wanna cum now, baby? I think I’ve taught you well enough for one night, yeah?”
“Please, Jake…” you cry softly, looking up at him with pleading eyes.
“So sweet and polite for me,” Jake croons, smiling as his fingers begin to work you over once again. “How could I say no to that?”
In no time, he’s got you right back on the edge, barely hanging on by a thread. Your orgasm comes back with a vengeance, ready to plummet you into the most mind blowing, glorious, high you’ve ever experienced.
“That’s it. Atta girl,” Jake praises, tucking his face into your neck to place small kisses and hear you sweet sounds better. “Let it all go. You did such a good job. My girl, you’re so pretty when you cum for me.”
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readyforthegarden · 3 months
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this is lethal
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wildbluesorbit · 2 months
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this man’s smile will always be my weakness
_brokenbells
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ice-gnasher · 12 days
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WAIT WAIT WAIT I JUST REALIZED-
Hilary Knight, Captain of the Fleet.
Hell. Fucking. Yes.
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holdingup-fallingsky · 2 months
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I am once again thinking about how fucking fantastic of a song Fate of the Faithful is like the lyricism is fucking insane, there’s so many double entendres for each line and each one still matches the themes of the song (y’know being absolutely pissed off at religion and god) and like you can feel the emotion and rage radiating off this song it’s actually insane. And then to top THAT all off, the actual music of the song feels like a powerful summer lightning storm, y’know the type that make you understand why our ancestors used to think storms were god’s wrath. And then there’s this underlying feeling of bitterness; the type you only really experience when someone you were extremely close and devoted to betrays you and your trust it’s just all so UGHHHHHHHH and like even the TITLE of the song is crazy like yeah, the fate of the fiercely faithful is that you will get burned and that you find out it was not worth it and that it meant nothing. Like do you understand
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onedayfandom · 11 months
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As much as I enjoy Kaiju 8, I wish the whole clean up angle was still like...a thing.
Even just for worldbuilding. Let them do strength training on corpse parts that are in storage for repurposing later. Show me the fluidstains that have seeped too deep into the sidewalk. Hollowed out kaiju shells that got repurposed into buildings cause breaking it down would have taken too many ressources compared to marketing them as bombproof livving space. Let people complain about the R&D Departement being the worst smelling place ever to the point that the people working there have just given up
Everything is so squeaky clean and I just don't buy it!You've been fighting giant Monsters for Generations, where is the gunk??
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skunkes · 3 months
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had to babysit nephews for 4 hours and at the end i had them saying Yay and Yippee and things of this nature
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aria0fgold · 5 months
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Finally done with my version of The Universe's design!
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jesuis-assez · 1 month
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↠ Tim & Lucy scenes ↳ 5x10 - The List
#chenford#chenfordedit#the rookie#tim x lucy#tim and lucy#therookieedit#lucy x tim#jesuis assez edits: Chenford#jesuis assez edits: Chenford scenes#Tim was so nervous#When they reached their second date.. They were in their element. It was more them as opposed to the fancy setting.#He could breathe with ease. Just be there in the moment with her. They could just be them. Just Tim and Lucy.#He could melt into her the way he always does.#Whether that be in the form of a kiss / hug or a touch of any means.#or even gaze at her intently the way he did here in this scene [ok the whole episode. ] [ok just about every time he looks at her]#Even touching her with his fingertips brushing over her skin \ hearing her voice \ a single look that#communicates what words cannot say is enough to quieten the anxiety.#or the emotional storm raging within Tim. Even for a fleeting moment as they have done so before.#Tim has this way of giving Lucy his full and undivided attention. Listening to her attentively. He takes in every word she says to him#Hanging onto every word and holding a space for those words in the doorways of his mind. and allowing her influence to wash over him.#Because he values her opinion just as much as she values his. So when she expressed a [need] for him to reset his expectations#he switched on instantly to meet that need. He too wants for them to take their time and explore this slowly.#They're on mutual ground with this and maybe it's something Tim didn't realise he wanted until Lucy voiced it.#The way he begins to process what she is wanting from the relationship right now and needing from him#and how it sinks in that he wants that too#I think Tim could've been content to sit in silence with her all night despite the nerves bubbling up inside of him.#Just completely content with beaming at her all night. Content to admire her through tender eyes.
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goldenlikedayl1ght · 1 year
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scott street - d. wagner
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a/n: i am feeling super normal about my relationship with my dad! and i just need a little comfort right now. reminder that you aren't your parents, and step parents can be either your actual parent or the worst in the world! i would know. warnings: big angst, huge. reader and danny sneak off to fuck, and then again at the end of the fic, domestic abuse, divorced parents, step parents, neglect and trauma, cursing, uhhhh yknow. daddy issues, but i hate that term bc of tiktok, enjoy ! word count: 3.1k summary: he's your danny, even while putting the pieces back together. paring: danny wagner x fiance!gn!reader now playing: scott street - phoebe bridgers "do you feel ashamed/when you hear my name?"
It happened before your mom got remarried. You were back from school on summer vacation, after your stepdad helped you move out for the summer. It had been the end of your freshman year.
For weeks, you tried to convince your dad to help move you out, begging him to be somewhat active in your life. He hadn’t seen you since winter break, and that was only because you had to go over to his house. Because your brother begged you to give him a shot. But this time, he refused to help you move out. You don’t go to college that far from home, but he tells you he wants to save himself the trip if you’re just going to be home a few days later.
You don’t even have to ask your stepdad. He offers.
And this is what makes it not a big deal when he buys a car decal from your campus bookstore. It has your school’s logo, and says the name of your school, with ‘Dad’ next to it. You laugh and talk your whole trip home, and it doesn’t seem that deep. I mean, your dad has neglected you for years, treating you like a toy on a shelf, and you don’t even have to ask your stepdad if you can grab a snack for the trip home.
It’s just easier for you to be around him, and he really acts the way a father should. He isn’t even married to your mom yet, and you feel this great swell of love for this man, knowing that he’d be the one to be there without hesitation.
Your brother manages to convince you to go with him to get dinner with your dad a few days into your trip. In a few days, you’ll have people over. Your extended family, your brothers’ friends, and your friends from high school.
Well, your friend. Sam can’t make it; he’s having a root canal done.
But Danny will be there. Your Danny. Being in college hadn’t been enough to push aside your crush on your best friend. You suspected the summer would probably make that even more difficult. But you hadn’t seen him in a few months, and you missed him desperately. You focus on him to get you through the dinner from hell.
Your dad picks you up from your moms, your stepdad not yet home. You sit awkwardly in the front seat, anxious for a reason you can’t quite put a finger on.
But really, dinner goes sort of well. You push through the awkwardness of it all, and it’s not that bad.
Until he pulls into your driveway to drop you off. He sees the sticker on your stepdad’s car and starts screaming at you.
You scoff, telling him you find it rich that he’s making comments about your mom’s boyfriend when he let his wife absolutely torment you and your brother for years.
Before you can blink, he grabs you by the hair and smashes your face against the dashboard. He’s still screaming at you when you come to about ten seconds later. Your brother is screaming too, telling your dad to stop, and he’s pulling you out of the car. Blood runs down your face, staining a shirt you got from Danny. It makes you start to sob as you run into your house. You hear the slamming of car doors, and your brother follows you quickly, holding your bag and sweatshirt.
Your mom swears she’ll kill him, but you keep crying. You’re too sad to be angry. But you decide right then and there, you’re done with him.
When you go to the ER, they tell you that your nose is broken. They set it back into place and bandage it up, telling you to take it easy for a few days.
When you see Danny a few days later, he’s immediately concerned.
He holds your face gently, asking you what happened. You’re tired of explaining it to everyone.
“My dad. He banged my head into a dashboard a few days ago. Broke it.” You sighed. You see him tense.
“I’ll fucking kill him.”
“You’ll have to get in line.” You tell him. You take a sip of your beer. You move on from the subject quickly, asking how he’s been, what he’s been up to. He tells you that the band he had joined with the Kiszka’s is starting to pick up. You’re thrilled for him.
It’s hard to stay away from your attraction.
The night goes by smoothly, until there’s a knock on your front door. Your mom goes to answer it, and after a few minutes, she calls you over. Your dad stands there. He has a pile of papers in his hands.
“What do you want?” You ask, putting down your drink. He looks past you. Danny leans against the doorway to the hallway. You don’t ask him to leave.
“To give you these. I’m signing over my parental rights.” He tells you. It hurts more than the broken nose. You stay quiet. Inside you, you feel the ghost of your ten-year-old self screaming for her daddy, telling him to take it back. But you take the paper, and see he’s already signed and notarized them. “It’s been a long time coming.” You laugh, biting back tears.
“Fuck you. Get out of my fucking house, I don’t want you here.” You tell him, angry now. You want to yell, because he waited until three weeks before you turned eighteen to do this. It’s an extra punch to the gut.
“No more Christmases, no more birthdays, no more support, other than what’s mandated by the court.”
“Go to hell! You were never there for any of that shit!” You tell him. He just stares. “You broke my nose, if you care.”
“I’m sorry I hurt you, but I need to do what’s best for us.”
“Have a good fucking life.” You slam the door in his face. You ignore your mom’s gaze. You ignore Danny’s. You start to cry as you walk quickly through the house, dodging your family members. You make it outside to your backyard, where sobs rack your body. Someone says your name from behind you, and you know who it is.
You let Danny hug you, hold you, as you cry.  You cry for a long time, and he stays just like that, refusing to let you go. When you finally calm down, you’re laying your head on him when you ask him a question, and it breaks his heart into a million little pieces.
“Why doesn’t he want me?”
He just hushes you softly. But, you want an answer. You demand it of him, and he gives you one.
“Because he’s a fucking moron. You’re the best, you’re kind, and gorgeous, and fucking funny. You make me laugh constantly, and for so long you’re going to date men who remind you of him, because you’ll long for his love. But he doesn’t deserve your love. And what he does… That isn’t love. One day you are going to meet someone who never questions why you don’t talk to him, and they will be his exact opposite. You deserve that type of love.” He tells you.
You just look at him for a few minutes. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the pain.
You kiss him. It lasts a few moments, and he kisses back. Then he’s pulling away, mumbling no…
No?
“We can’t. You’re drunk, you’re upset. I won’t kiss you just because you’re sad. I’ll kiss you when the time is right and you’re happy. I’ll kiss you when I know we’re both ready and in love.” He tells you. You feel betrayed. You know, somewhere deep down, that he’s right. That you both deserve a first kiss that isn’t full of angst and drama.
But you’re angry. Angry at your dad. Angry at Danny. Angry at yourself. Angry at God, who you haven’t prayed to since you were nine. You pull away from him, wiping tears that remain on your face.
“I think you should go.” You say softly. He knows you don’t mean it. But he respects your wish.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” He tells you. “Don’t be a stranger.”
He leaves, and for a second time that night, you’re crushed that a man has left you despite telling him to go.
It’s been five years since that day. You’ve graduated college, and you spend most of your days waiting for Danny to get home from the studio or from a tour.
He finally kissed you again when you graduated college, promising to never let you go ever again. Promising to never let any other shit for brains guy hurt you because you wanted to be loved. He promises to hold your hand while you put yourself back together. He never insists on doing it for you, but he always supports you.  
You’ve been in therapy for a long time, and most days, you don’t think about your dad. You have your mom and stepdad. But somedays, it hurts. And it doesn’t hurt you, it hurts that same ten-year old who lives inside you.
But you ignore it. You focus on your career, your life, your boyfriend.
And one day, a few months before your brother’s wedding, he asks you to marry him. You say yes. It seems so natural; you’ve only been dating for just under two years, but you’ve been in love for as long as you can remember.
You love being engaged. You love thinking about him as your future husband. For you, there are few questions about the wedding. You’ll get married in early fall, you’ll have your mom walk you down the aisle, you’ll have red velvet cake, and Josh will sing your first dance song as well as officiate.
All these things seem very natural to you.
They’re not as easily answered as your brother. When his fiancé got pregnant right before your engagement to Danny, he began questioning whether he’d have your dad there. You couldn’t say you didn’t understand it. There were times you considered reaching out. And with a kid on the way, you knew why he would want his dad in his life again.
It doesn’t stop you from booking an emergency session with your therapist when he tells you he’s coming to the wedding.
He won’t be part of the wedding party, and he’ll have no part in any speeches or traditions. He’ll just be there to support your brother and his wife. You’ll barely notice him; Danny reassures you of this time and time again.
The wedding went well. You focus on your brother and his wife, your sister-in-law. You’re so proud of him. Danny watches you the whole time. He thinks about how you’ll look at the alter of your own wedding, and he melts a little at the thought. Your engagement ring looks lovely with the flowers your sister-in-law picked out.
During the cocktail hour, in between the reception and the ceremony, he can barely keep his hands off you. He’s pulling you out of the crowd, kissing you against the walls, telling you how pretty you are. You don’t really think about your dad.
You sneak off with him, and he takes you into a nearby empty room. An employee from the venue almost walks in on the two of you. You can’t stop laughing. You tell him you love him again and again. There’s something about someone so close to you getting married that thrills you in preparation for your own wedding.
You sit with your mom, stepdad, and your sister in law’s immediate family. Danny holds your hand as your sister-in-law’s sister makes her maid of honor speech. You make a speech too, your brother dubbing you his best man, regardless of your gender. Your sister-in-law dances with her dad. Your brother dances with your mom.
Your stepdad asks to dance with you to Goodnight My Angel, by Billy Joel. You oblige. While dancing, you tearfully ask him to dance with you to it at your own wedding. He agrees, happily. The photographer takes a photo of you during the dance.
And that’s the last time during the night that you’re truly sober, and you spend the rest of your night dancing with your mom, and with your fiancé. You love calling him that. You slow dance to your favorite songs, and that night, you decide your first dance song will be a Loggins & Messina song.
You’re getting a drink at the bar when he finally says something to you. Your father. His first words to you are as follows:
“I saw you dancing with him. To that song.” You laugh spitefully.
“With Danny? Yeah, I’m gonna dance with him, he’s my—”
“No. With your stepfather. Why would you disrespect me like that?”
“You left. You abandoned me. You wanted nothing to do with me. You have no right to comment on my relationship with my stepdad.”
He stands up to face you.
“You were disrespectful. Rude. Horrible. Out of control, I couldn’t deal with you!” You glare.
“You’re so full of shit. He was always more of a dad to me than you were.” You can tell he’s ready to hit you, but you feel a hand on your arm from behind. Your head whips to see Danny. Your shoulders slump. You’re immediately calmer. Your other hand goes up to lay on his hand, where his thumb is gently rubbing your forearm. It’s then that your father sees your engagement ring. You go to say something, but he cuts you off.
“Engaged?” You realize he didn’t know.
“Yeah. You remember Danny.” Your fiancé says nothing.
“Of course, I do. You always were in love with him.” It almost makes you smile, the way your dad remembered your crush on him. But you just as quickly remember when he called you a slut for having two boyfriends in a year. You just as quickly remember him leaving you and your brother for hours, days, at home with your stepmom who refused to let you eat any food. You just as quickly remember the pain from the broken nose, and the worse pain of him showing up at your door to sign away his parental rights.
“Yeah. I always was.” You grab your drink and take Danny’s hand properly now. “Have a good night.” You tell him, and you lead Danny away from him, leaving your father at the bar, where he was always meant to end up.
Danny says your name, asking you softly, “Are you okay?” You let out a shaky breath, taking a sip of your drink. Tears brim your eyes.
“I love you, Danny.” You tell him weakly. He can tell that that’s a no. He guides you away from the party, this time to not make love with you, but to comfort you. Tears run down your face as you lean against the wall in the hallway, feeling the thump-thump of the music from the party. He frowns and wipes your tears, shaking his head. “I thought seeing him wouldn’t hurt anymore.” You say quietly.
Sometimes the child that yearns for your father slips out. You can’t keep them inside in this moment.
“I know, baby.” He says gently. “…Do you want to talk to him more after this? Invite him to the wedding?” He isn’t coercing you, isn’t forcing you to. He’s only laying out your options.
“No.” you tell him. “I don’t need him. I’ve got you. I’ve got mom. I have Mark, and my father be damned, I have a fucking dad. Not that asshole. I have a dad, and it isn’t him.” You tell him. Danny nods.
“You have grown into an amazing young adult. I’ve been in love with you for so long, and I am so proud of you. You’ve grown so much, and you’ve made yourself a damn good life.” He tells you.
“Damn good.” You confirm, your voice breaking.
“Damn good. You’re right. He’s not your dad. Dads don’t do the things he’s done to you. He might be your father, but he isn’t your dad. And it’s okay to miss him, but you have an amazing life without him. And we’re gonna get married. And we’re never going to make his mistakes. You are nothing like him. We’ll get hitched, and have sex every night, and we’ll die in our nineties after a long life of Rock n Roll, Sex, and love. We’ll dance to Loggins and Messina at your wedding, our kids will call Patrick ‘pop’ and he’ll never have a second of your life.” He tells you. You kiss him gently, unable to form the words to tell him how much that means to you. When he stops kissing you, just for a second, he tells you, “We’ll make a new home, with just the two of us. We’ll host holidays, and you’ll never cry on Christmas again.” He tells you.
His words heal something in you. He won’t let you be hurt by your father ever again. The war is over, and now you’ll try to heal, try to move on.
Danny wipes your tears and asks you to come dance with him. You oblige. You dance through the night and focus on your future.
And it’s just as your fiancé describes. You get married. You dance to ‘A Love Song’ by Loggins and Messina, sung by your officiant, Josh.
Sam is Danny’s best man, and your brother is your maid of honor.
You dance with your stepdad to that Billy Joel song.
On Christmases, Danny kisses you under the mistletoe and holds you close.
He’s nothing but romantic and good to you.
On Father’s Day, a particularly hard holiday for you, he brings you home a cake before you go out for dinner with your mom, stepdad, brother, sister-in-law, and nephew.
It’s white, and has small hearts all over it, and in red frosting, it reads, ‘You can’t choose your father, but you can choose your daddy.’ It makes you laugh, and you ruin your hair and ruffle your clothes making love before you leave for dinner.
That night before he goes to bed, he kisses you and tells you that he loves you. That he can’t wait to live the rest of his life with you.
It takes you a long time to fall asleep, thinking about your dad, your Danny, and your stepdad. You wonder if you’ll ever have the courage to have children, out of fear of fucking them up like your dad did with you. You wonder if Danny and you really will live a long, happy, sexually vast life. You realize he is your soulmate, and that he’ll always be your husband.
You decide you’ll be alright.
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hephaestuscrew · 5 months
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“This has both our names on it”: Viewing Fleet and Clara’s relationship in Victoriocity through a queerplatonic lens
TL;DR: By Season 3 of Victoriocity, Fleet and Clara have developed a committed emotional partnership that certainly moves beyond the purely professional. Whilst very much operating as a duo, they can be interpreted as often rejecting or subverting romance-coded elements in their relationship, instead embracing a unique dynamic that can be read as resonating with the concept of a queerplatonic relationship (QPR).
Buckle up because this is over 2,500 words long! If you'd rather read it as a document, you can access it here: Fleet & Clara QPR Google Doc
Disclaimer: I'm not making any claims about creator intent, nor about how anyone else ought to interpret Fleet and Clara's dynamic. It's also worth acknowledging that queerplatonic relationships are inherently defined by the people in them and any attempt to apply such terminology to a story set in 1887 is obviously anachronistic (although whether that should matter when said story also contains a cyborg Queen Victoria is up for debate). 
With that said, if we define a QPR as a committed personal partnership which is not entirely captured by the typical expectations of either friendship or romance but may contain some elements typically associated with either (other definitions of QPRs are available), I enjoy viewing Fleet and Clara's relationship through a QPR lens, and I want to talk about some of the reasons why I think this reading works.
***Spoilers for all three seasons of Victoriocity and the novel High Vaultage***
Detective duos
Even before we actually get into Fleet and Clara's particular bond, detective / crime-solving duos as a general concept have QPR energy to me (which probably predisposed me to this interpretation). It's the Holmes-and-Watson legacy. It's the use of the word 'partner' in a non-romantic context (‘associate’ or ‘companion’ can also serve a similar purpose). It's the intense trust and reliance on each other. It's the sense of being a recognisable pair, always appearing together, known as a duo, with skills and attributes that complement each other. 
Romantic assumptions
Moving on to Fleet and Clara specifically, one aspect of their relationship that can be read through a QPR lens is how they are often in situations where other people believe or imply that there is a romantic relationship between them. Sometimes this is a deliberate strategy of theirs, and sometimes it’s imposed upon them by others. But I’d argue that there’s never a point where they both simultaneously seem entirely comfortable with that romantic narrative for their relationship. Usually one of them will actively deny the assumption or react negatively to the implication:
When Mrs Hampshire interprets Clara and Fleet as a couple experiencing “young love”, Clara might be happy to adopt this as an effective cover story, but Fleet seems unsettled and keen for them not to be perceived this way: “No. No. You’ve misunderstood, we are not, that is to say I am…” (S1E2)
When Warden Hughes assumes Fleet is the new Warden and Clara is the new Warden’s wife, Clara says “I am certainly not”, with emphasis on the ‘certainly’. (S2E2)
Fleet definitely doesn’t sound enthused when he realises Clara has gone for a married couple as their cover story at the Grand Salcombe: “I am sure I’ll regret asking, but by any chance am I [Mr. Theasby?]” (S2E2)
When Titus Byrne tells the pair “I take it you're happy sharing [a room]”, Clara responds with a horrified “What?” (S3E4) (Obviously sleeping in the same room isn’t inherently romantic, but it is often perceived that way.)
Of course, fake dating and external assumptions of romance are very common tropes in romantic will-they-won't-they dynamics, and these moments could definitely be interpreted that way for Fleet and Clara. But I prefer to read these instances as reflecting a different kind of closeness between these two characters. They have a sense of emotional partnership that allows a marriage cover story to seem plausible to others and that other people sometimes automatically assume to be romantic (obviously with some period-typical heteronormativity at play). But to me, it doesn't seem like either of them are fully comfortable with their relationship being perceived in a directly romantic way. Perhaps they are a couple in a different sense…
Proposal via door plate 
The way that Fleet asks Clara to be his business partner has always seemed to me like a platonic version of when people find personal ways to surprise their romantic partner with a proposal:
CLARA: You bought me a door plate for your office? [...] This has both our names on it. FLEET: What do you think? CLARA: I like it. (S2E7)
Fleet could have just asked Clara outright, without going to the trouble of buying a sign that would have been useless if she’d said no. If it was purely a professional business proposition with no emotional meaning behind it, I think he would have just asked verbally. But instead, he gifts her a sign with their two names paired together: Fleet-Entwhistle Investigations. There's something so intimate about that to me: about Fleet asking Clara whether she would like to be a duo with him in a more formally-defined but still non-romantic way; about him choosing to present this offer in the form of a gift; about the way he presents her with their two names joined together etched into metal and asks what she thinks; about the significance that this gesture attaches to their partnership; about him having enough trust that she'll say yes that the effort and vulnerability of presenting her with that sign seem worth it for him. And the gesture means an awful lot to Clara:
She thought about the door plaque he’d had engraved with both their names on it as his way of inviting her to be his business partner – typical Fleet, refusing to tell her so much as his favourite breakfast food and then to go and do something like that. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her. (High Vaultage, p187). 
Anniversaries
In the special episode ‘Murder in the Pharaoh's Tomb', Clara says “And you know what else is a big occasion Fleet? It's our one-month anniversary.” She wants to celebrate the anniversary of Fleet-Entwhistle Investigations. Their partnership holds a significance for her that means key dates associated with it are worth remembering and remarking upon. 
When Clara first mentions their anniversary, Fleet nearly chokes on his drink, which seems like an instinctive reaction to the usually romantic connotations of an anniversary (see my point above about Fleet not being comfortable with their dynamic being perceived as romantic). But when Clara clarifies what she means, Fleet seems much more cheerful about the notion of their anniversary: “Ah, so it has.”
“Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner”
I get extremely strong QPR vibes from this moment, when Fleet introduces Clara to the sailors at Grave End:
FLEET: This is Miss Clara Entwhistle, my partner - in business, my business partner. CLARA: I'm also his friend, but he doesn't like to say it. (S3 E3)
Fleet and Clara are partners, but not in the way the average person might assume from that word, which Fleet realises mid-sentence here. This is another instance of Fleet reacting negatively to the idea that their relationship might be interpreted romantically (see above). And yet, 'partner' (rather than, say, ‘colleague’) is the word that comes naturally to him in this moment to describe who Clara is to him. He then frantically emphasises the professional element of their relationship so as to avoid the romantic implication, but Clara is keen to proudly assert that there is a personal, emotional aspect to their dynamic too. They are first-and-foremost partners, and they are friends, and they do not want to be seen in a romantic light - this post basically writes itself... 
“Her ridiculous detective.”
When Clara fears for her life at the display of the Lanterns, the narration tells us:
“she thought of her brother, her sister, her parents... Her ridiculous detective.” (High Vaultage, p172) 
The fact that Clara thinks of Fleet in this moment of fear clearly indicates his importance to her, but I think the phrasing of this quote is particularly interesting. The narration lists Clara's immediate family: two of whom are dead (her sister and father), one of whom is publically mourning Clara's life choices (her mother), and only one of whom we have any real evidence of her having a positive relationship with (her brother). And then, separated from these complicated familial relationships by an ellipsis, the narration tells Clara also thinks of Fleet, “her ridiculous detective”. 
Parents and siblings are familial relationships that tend to come with established expectations, in which the use of a possessive pronoun (i.e. her brother) to indicate the relationship is a norm. ‘Detective’ does not fall into this category; unlike ‘brother’, ‘sister’, ‘parent’, ‘friend’, ‘partner’ etc., ‘detective’ is not a word that inherently implies a relationship or that we'd usually expect to see preceded by a possessive pronoun. The idea of ‘her detective’ therefore stands out, giving the sense that there is a unique relationship being indicated here. The way in which Fleet is ‘hers’ is something that Clara has chosen for herself, something that they have shaped together. Who they are to each other can't necessarily be fully expressed using standard phrases that traditionally describe relationships between people. But Fleet is Clara's detective, of which she only has one, and who she'll think of in the midst of “the screaming of the heavens at the end of the world”.
Fleet is also the only one in this list of Clara's loved ones who gets an adjective - her love for him has detail. And while “ridiculous” might often be perceived as negative (it's certainly not a classic romantic endearment), it seems to me like there's such fondness in it in this context: the recognition of and affection for eccentricities, the idea that his importance to her is not (purely) based on his professional strengths but on Fleet as a whole - perhaps at times ridiculous - person.
“Settled”
When Clara and Fleet talk about Clara's mother’s expectations for her, they have this exchange:
"She's still living in hope that one day I'll settle down."  "You're not settled?" asked Fleet. "I am." (High Vaultage, p259) 
By ‘settle down’, Clara's mother of course means ‘marry’, ideally into “at least a minor baronetcy”. But Clara already considers herself "settled", just not in a way her mother would understand or appreciate. She's not looking to "settle down" into a lifestyle other than her current one. She is settled in a situation where Fleet is certainly her closest personal connection in London (and perhaps anywhere), and where the two of them work closely together, operate as a duo, and then go back to their separate homes. And this partnership with Fleet is a comfortable set-up that feels right for Clara exactly as it is, rather than being a precursor to, or a distraction from, the marriage ambitions that her mother wants for her.
I think this exchange also contains an implicit sense of the commitment between the two of them. Fleet wants to check that Clara is ‘settled’ in her current situation, of which working closely - and platonically - with Fleet is obviously a major element; Clara confirms she is. There's a subtle indication of their shared intention to be in this for the long haul.
As a sidenote, Fleet and Clara’s implicit assumption that their partnership is a long-term one can manifest itself in joking contexts as well as serious ones. Look at this exchange from S3E5: 
FLEET: We're not bandits, we're just going to flag it down. CLARA: We'd be terrific bandits! FLEET: Let's just see how our current line of work goes.
I think it’s notable that, in this joking speculation, both Fleet and Clara use ‘we’ and ‘our’. The joke could have been phrased just as effectively if they were imagining only Clara becoming a bandit. But the suggestion is that, if either of them was a bandit, they’d be bandits together. Even if they changed their lives entirely, they'd still approach life together.
Inseparable 
Fleet and Clara have become a nearly inseparable duo in a way which is noticed by others. For example, after Clara and Fleet fall out in High Vaultage, Fleet meets with Keller, who says: 
"You're here with me instead of barrelling across town with her, so I'm just assuming there is some thickheaded puffinry for which you need to apologise to Miss Entwhistle" (p335)
Keller, hardly the most emotionally perceptive man in Even Greater London, automatically infers from the fact that Fleet is on his own that he has had a falling out with Clara, rather than that they just happen to be in different places. When all is well, Keller expects to see the two of them together, whether or not they are in a position to be actively working a case.
Going back earlier in their partnership, Keller makes a similar assumption about Fleet and Clara being inseparable in S2E6. When Clara shouts her name amidst Keller's anti-Vidoc booby traps, Keller asks "Entwhistle? Which means… Fleet?" Again, there's this idea that if one of them is there, the other is likely to be there too - they come as a pair. (It's worth noting that this scene takes place less than two weeks after they first met.)
“Like a friend might?”
At the end of S3E7, Fleet suggests that he and Clara go to the theatre together. It would have been easy for this invitation to have been explicitly framed as a romantic proposition, or even for the nature of the offer to have been left more ambiguous. But Clara says "Archibald Fleet, are you inviting me to a social activity? Like a friend might?" The use of the word 'friend' directly labels this as a platonic interaction. And it's with that platonic lens on it that Clara is extremely excited to spend non-work-related social time with Fleet.
“Maybe it'll just be my good luck charm.”
CLARA: My grandmother's ring, I don't suppose you managed to hold on to it? [...] FLEET: Oh, it's been crushed.. I'm sorry Clara [...] CLARA: No, you keep it. FLEET: What? No... CLARA: Keep it. Maybe it'll remind you not to run towards trains. FLEET: Maybe. Maybe it'll just be my good luck charm.
In S3E7, Clara gives Fleet a ring, which - as a gift from one person to another - is traditionally a symbol of a particular, legally recognised, kind of personal commitment. But when Clara tells Fleet to keep the damaged ring, down in the Underground tunnels after the destruction of the beast and Fleet's latest brush with death, it is quite a different situation to a wedding or a proposal. A married man would traditionally wear his wedding ring on his finger for all to see, but Fleet won't ever wear this ring like that. The ring itself has been bent into a different shape between the wheels of their misadventures, subverting the usual associations of a ring given from one person to another. (In a heteronormative world, those associations are particularly strong when the two people in question are a woman and a man.) 
That ring is not an engagement ring, but it is Clara’s grandmother's ring, an inheritance from the blood family she never really felt she belonged in, now given to the man who might be a very different kind of family for her in London. That ring - with which Clara saved Fleet's life - is a symbol of their bond. And it therefore serves as a reminder for Fleet “not to run towards trains" and as a “good luck charm”. I like to think he'll carry that ring with him, perhaps in his jacket pocket - a little piece of his partner, kept close to his ticking heart…
Thank you for reading all of this!
If you’ve read all of this, I'm assuming you also enjoy the concept of Fleet and Clara as a QPR (unless you're really a glutton for punishment) and that makes me very happy! This was long because there's so much to say about them… And I wrote all of the above without even getting into: the potential to headcanon Fleet and/or Clara as aspec (which I don't think is necessary for QPR headcanons, but which is also fun); Clara's baggage around and discomfort with marriage in general; the speed with which Fleet and Clara become a ride-or-die duo; and the many other demonstrations of care, understanding, trust, respect, and affection between them that didn't feel as directly QPR-coded to me but are nonetheless wonderful. Please do feel free to share your own thoughts!
#victoriocity#clara entwhistle#inspector fleet#archibald fleet#high vaultage#I'm not really trying to persuade anyone who doesn't already vibe with Fleet & Clara QPR as a concept#I just enjoy digging into that interpretation#I don't have any lived experience of QPRs myself#I'm just an aro who occasionally yearns#which tbf is probably the demographic most likely to obsessively interpret fictional duos as QPRs#I tried to avoid straying into anything like ‘they are too important to each other to be *just* friends’#when writing this#because I deeply dislike that outlook#That's not what I'm getting at here#Friends can be that important to each other without being in a QPR#I just think Fleet and Clara are important to each other in a particular way that can easily be read as a QPR or QPR-adjacent#Ngl for me personally I was very happy that there was no explicitly romantic Fleet and Clara moments#in S3 or High Vaultage#I’m sure I would still love their dynamic if they did explicitly take it down that route#I’m sure it would be done well#But the fact that Fleet and Clara are platonic (or at least ambiguous) means a lot to me personally#A related thought to that bit on romantic assumptions is that under amatonormativity#even the denial of romance/attraction is so often treated as evidence for it#which can mean that there's no way to escape that implication#so that's another reason why I enjoy taking characters at their word#when they express discomfort over a dynamic being interpreted as romantic#I finished writing this on Wednesday and I've been so impatient about waiting until S3 is fully out to post it lol
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Guesssss who’s tipsy af off of some good ass wine and has filthy thoughts to share with you all?
Sooooo let’s start with Jakey, shall we?
18+ below the cutttt
Jake leaning over your body, two fingers deep in your dripping cunt, while his thumb plays with your clit. He’s bound and determined to make you cum for the third time.
“I want it.” Jake growls right into your ear. “I’m not stopping until your cum is dripping out of the palm of my hand.”
All you can do is suck in shaky, heaving breaths from the pain and the pleasure. That’s okay though, because all he wants is for his own words to fill the air; feeding you filthy praises and other obscenities while you lay there and look pretty, coming undone over and over again from his fingers.
“Fuck, look at you. You look so pretty like this, my sweet girl.” Jake croons, voice low and gravely. His fingers hook into that sweet spot just right and he smiles, watching your mouth drop open as another orgasm takes over. “You love to give me just what I want huh? Yeah… Of course you do. You always do. Cum for me, pretty girl.”
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