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patscorner · 2 months

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FAMILY DINNER PART2

Summary: Chris joins your family for dinner for the first time and it does not go as planned

Tw: Swearing, physical altercation, mentions of blood, verbal arguing, panic attack mentions of alcohol use, mentions of ed, lmk if I missed something

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The rest of the dinner was just as awkward as you'd thought it'd be. You can't really come back from your father implying you and your boyfriend just fucked in the bathroom of your childhood home, at the first family 'reunion' in 2 years.

So there you sat, eating your food in silence, waiting -no- begging, that someone cut the tension.

And finally someone does. And as they say, careful what you wish for.

"How many plates have you had, dear?" Your mom asked, looking up from her plate. You look back at her, before glancing at your plate and back to at her again.

"This is my second." You say, mouth full of food. You were thankful that people took your mother's talking as an invitation to also continue their conversations.

"Maybe we should slow down, you know? Save room for dessert, which you clearly don't need." She smiles, as if what she said was the best piece of advice she'd ever given anyone.

Her comments always bothered you, no matter how much you were told to ignore them. But when it came to your weight, it hurt the most. The comments were the worst in high school, as you were a little heavier than the average petite high schooler. But it was never as serious as your mom made it. So when you were a sophomore in high school, you developed an eating disorder, where you couldn't eat even if you tried, where you spent hours crying in front of the mirror, wishing you were skinnier to fit your mother's impossible expectations.

You fought that battle for years, 3 years to be exact. Your mom couldn't help because she saw nothing wrong with what you were doing. She would say, 'It's worth it.' And when you're young, you tend to believe everything your parents say because they'd 'never hurt you.' So after you moved out, Chris helped you get help, and you won your long and cruel battle. Obviously, you still have your days and your moments, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it used to be. Not with your new family. People who actually cared.

"S'cuse me?" You say, your voice laced with agitation.

"Well, honey, you don't want to get fat again, do you?" She said, shoveling broccoli into her mouth.

You had stopped chewing completely, making sure you heard her correctly. You looked over at Chris, who was looking at your mom with his jaw clenched. You look back at your mom and out your hand on Chris's thigh as to tell him to relax.

You felt him put his hand over yours and squeeze, a symbol of reassurance.

You sit back in your seat, looking at your plate in defeat. Guess you were done for the night. But your dad wasn't. In fact, your dad was drunk.

"Oh, honey, leave her alone. She's not nearly as huge as she used to be." He slurred, taking another sip from his beer.

"Okay, this isn't neces-" you start, only to be cut off by your parents. Shocker.

"What do you mean? I mean, look at her, David. She's just as big as she was in high school." You mom says gesturing to you.

Your heart dropped, anger and embarrassment filling your veins. "What the fuck, mom?!" You cry out. "Not only is that something you shouldn't say about people, especially your fucking kid, but I'm also right in front of you. At least have some decency to shit-talk me in private." You remove your hand from your boyfriends lap.

Your mom looks at you in shock, and your dad squints at you. "Woah, woah, relax dear. It's not only your fault. You can't help it." She said, reaching for your hand.

You pull your hand away, a look of disgust covering your face. "I don't want to hear that, mom, why's my weight always been a big fucking obsession of yours?" You snap. You feel Chris's hand on your thigh, which you push off quickly. Usually, when you're angry, the last thing you wanted was to be touched.

"It's not my fault. You were huge. I was trying to help you. Nobody wants a pig as their bride, y/n." She spits. Her words feel like daggers, stabbing into your heart.

"You weren't trying to help. You were doing this for yourself. You never cared about it. You only did it because it made you look good to have skinny, petite children. I'm not you or any of them." You gesture to you siblings. The conversations had stopped by now, all of them watching as you and your parents bickered. Embarrassing. "You're a selfish bitch, who never cared about anybody else but herself a-"

"Hey! You watch how you speak to your mother!" Your dad stands up, and instinctively, so did you and your siblings. James and Peter were the first up, while Julia walked over and made sure Maya wasn't in the room.

Nick, Matt, and Chris all stood up too, but they weren't sure what to do, which you would've found funny, but considering the circumstances...

"Let's all relax, okay." Peter attempts to butt in. He's always been so soft-spoken, but if he needs to, he'll beat the shit outta someone. You knew what he was capable of. You'd seen it when your first boyfriend cheated on you.

Your dad directed his attention to Peter. "You shut the fuck up. You have no room to speak because you're a sorry excuse for a son." He drunkenly pointed at Peter.

"You're talking. You can't even see straight half the time, let alone be eligible to give advice." James, your younger brother spits.

Ah, you'd taught him well.

"You watch your mouth before I knock you the fuck out." Your dad spits, and that seems to shut James up. It breaks your heart knowing your father hadn't changed, and when you left, probably laid hands on your younger siblings. And it appears as though Peter's heart broke, too.

Peter stepped closer to your dad, with the same face of anger you'd seem many times before. "You hit them too, Dad? After what you promised!?" He said, his voice raised.

It was all too much. There are too many memories, too many flashbacks. There are too many similarities of past events.

"O-okay, Peter, relax." You attempt, knowing how fast this could escalate. You hold Chris's hand and squeeze tightly.

"Yeah, listen to the pig, Peter." Your father gritted his teeth.

"With all due respect, sir, I'm gonna need you to stop calling your daughter a pig." You hear an unexpected voice. Chris.

Your dad whips his head, staring at Chris with his eyebrows raised, unimpressed. Little did he know, Chris played hockey, and his brothers, who wouldn't hesitate to jump in, also played hockey.

"Chri-" You start.

"No, no, I'd like to hear what he has to say." Your father mocks.

"No! No, please let's just sto-" you get cut off again.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, Y/N." Your dad yells, taking very quick steps to you.

Chris stood in front of you, Peter and James behind your father.

"Move." He growled at Chris.

Chris sucked his teeth, with fake disappointment on his face. "Sorry, can't do that one, sir."

Your dad huffed, allowing Chris to smell every sip of alcohol he'd drunk. "Move." He stated again.

Chris shook his head. "That's my daughter! Get the fuck out of the way, tough guy."

Chris cocked his head. "Really, because based off what I've seen, you sure don't talk to her like it." He spoke, his voice calm, but stern.

That was it. Your dad snapped. He swung his fist, hitting Chris in the nose. "Dad! What the fuck!" You say.

You watch as Chris doubles over, holding his nose, followed by yelling from everyone in the room. You can't understand anything, but you do know that your dad's got his hands around your collar and is holding you close to his face.

You feel the tears start to fall as the scent of alcohol burns your nose. "You're a little bitch, letting this puny excuse of a man speak to me like that."

"Let her go, dad!" James screamed, followed by Peter's yelling.

You look over and make eye contact with your mom. She stood there, arms crossed, not a single expression on her face. She just let it happen.

Your dad shook you. "LOOK AT ME." He shouted in your face. You closed your eyes, as tears began to fall.

"CHRIS NO!" Nick yells. That's all you hear before you dropped. You didn't realize he was choking you until he let go. You look up and see Chris on top of your dad, landing blows like he if were in a hockey game. Your dad got a few heavy punches in, too, as you expected.

Chris had a bloody nose, a bloody lip, and crimson knuckles. Blood stained his big hands, and you couldn't tell if it was his or your father's.

Matt and Nick finally managed to push Chris out of the house, leaving you and your family. Your dad was still screaming drunk profanities, while James made sure you were okay. Peter and your mom held your dad back from chasing your boyfriend.

You had walked out of the dining room and went to sit on the stairs. Tears streamed down your face as you felt yourself slip into a familiar but unfamiliar trance. You were completely unaware of your surroundings at this point, so lost in your brain that the rest of your body was just frozen.

You don't know how long you are disassociating for, but you heard muffled shouting until you didn't. The yelling was replaced with ringing, something your brain did as a coping mechanism, mostly when you were young and hiding with your siblings in the bathroom while your dad trashed your home.

"-aby, can you take a deep breath from me?" You look up, but your vision is blurred, and you can't make out who's speaking - or anything for that matter.

You blink slowly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. It usually took you a while to come back to reality during these moments.

"Can someone get her a cup of water?" You hear the voice again, and despite your yearning to speak, you can't get any words out. Your mouth opens, and you try to speak, but it comes out more of a choked whine.

"Shh, I know, sweetheart, it's okay." Chris wipes the tears coming for your cheeks. Your pupils were enlarged, and your eyes were open, but you couldn't see.

"Thank you." Chris muttered as Matt handed him a cup of ice water. "Here, baby." He put his hands in the icy water, shaking them, so his hands are damp. He took your hands, which had a death grip on your hoodie, and rubbed his cold fingers over your knuckles.

You focused on the feeling of his frigid fingers and you felt yourself coming back to reality.

You blink quickly as more tears fall. "Aw ma, don't cry, it's okay, sweetheart." Chris coos, placing his hands on your hips, rubbing his thumbs on the bone.

His attempts to ground you are successful, as your eyes finally focus on his eyes. "Hey, hey, you coming back to me, baby?" Chris asks, his voice soothingly attempting to comfort you.

You nod absent-mindedly, relief flooding your body as you come back to reality.

You take in your surroundings for the first time in what felt like forever. You're sat on the stairs, your hands shaking from the adrenaline flowing through your veins.

You finally make eye contact with Chris, his eyes full of love and worry. He's got a bruise on the side of his face, a busted lip, and blood falling from his nose, smeared on his upper lip.

"Chris..." you say, cupping his face, rubbing his cheeks down to his lip, frowning when he winced. "Baby..."

He pulls away, chuckling lightly. "It's fine, baby, I'm okay. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." He squeezed your hips in reassurance.

"I'm okay." You say. But then your mind screams at you. "Fuck, where's Maya... an-and, James. Oh, fuck, what about Julia and Pet-" your cut off by Chris's lips on yours. You sigh into the kiss, your hands trailing down his neck.

He pulls away and smiles sadly. "Thank you." You whisper, looking down. "Anytime, baby. I'm so sorry. God, I'm so fucking sorry." He said, leaning his forehead on yours.

You shake your head. "It's okay, he's a fucking asshole." Chris kisses your cheek. "Let's get outta here? I made a little bit of a mess."

You raise your eyebrows. "A little?" Chris kisses his teeth and scoffs.

You smile and kiss his cheek. "Anybody would've done it, Chris. It's okay, really." You speak softly.

Chris smiles and helps you up. "Let's go home." He leads you down the stairs and reaches for the door.

But it opens before he can open it.

"Oh my god."

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(Man, I wonder who that is)

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shayyprasad · 2 months

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intellectual | peter parker

summary: you overhear something you weren't supposed to, but it shouldn't have been said in the first place. in result, you can't help but wonder if peter wants something different.

warnings: implied smut, mentions of sex, insecurity, use of y/n

pairing: bimbo!reader x frat!peter

word count: 3.0k+ words (my longest fic yet-)

a/n: in no way is use of "bimbo" meant to be a patriarchal stereotype. please do not take it offensively, this is a work of fiction.

M.LIST | RULES/REQUESTING | ABOUT ME

peter was totally smitten by you. really, he was. after all he's been through, it was kind of nice having someone who adores him as much as he does, even if you are... a tad bit dim-witted.

while he grew up surrounded by death, trauma, and more, you were raised sheltered, hidden away from all the bad things. and even though peter's been through some shit, he finds it to hold you so gently, like the pretty thing you are, as if you were stained glass; fragile, but so beautiful.

when he's holding you, all his soft, brown eyes can focus on are how your soft, manicured hands wrap around his rough, calloused ones. you're always careful not to hurt him with your acrylics.

even though you can be slow at times, it's almost impossible not to admire the way your clothes always hug your curves, glossed lips pulled into a pretty pout.

peter could have just about any girl he wanted on campus, but he didn't want any of them.

he wanted you, and only you.

maybe it's because you were different, and no, not in dim-witted nature. but because of how soft you were. you didn't know, and even if you did, understand the horrors he wittnessed out there everyday.

you were protected by a little (very pink) bubble that you lived in, so when he came home to you, it felt as if he was in a different world altogether. you were so damn good at distracting peter, and you didn't even know it.

you were in your own dorm room, watching a silly rom-com while peter was with his friends, he told you not to wait up for him, given that he would be up 'til the early hours of the morning. but you decided that peter and his goodnight kisses were slightly more important than your beauty sleep.

slightly.

you furrowed your neatly shaped eyebrows at something that one of the characters said, tilting your head.

ram-i-fic-a-tion? you thought, humming. pulling out your phone, you googled the word.

noun plural noun: ramifications

a consequence of an action or event, especially when complex or unwelcome. "any change is bound to have legal ramifications"

"legal ram-i-fic-a-tions?" you wondered aloud.

you skimmed the rest of the definitions, still confused. surely peter wouldn't mind if you gave him a quick ring? so you went ahead in did that, letting the sound echo in the room.

when he didn't pick up, you frowned.

"ummm..." you trailed off, calling one of his friends, spencer, instead. you weren't a stranger to him, but more of a mutual. after all, your roommate was dating him. actually, you'd ask alyssa, your roomie, but she wasn't here.

much to your happiness, spencer did pick up. "hiii, spence."

"y/n?" he said, slurring slightly.

"what does, like, ram-i-fic-a-tion mean?" you asked, careful to enunciate.

spencer was aware of... how your brain worked, and he wasn't a jerk about it (unlike some people). he was one of peter's closer friends, so you felt comfortable around him.

"ramification? oh, uh, it's like a consequence."

you frowned dumbly, "to what?"

"to an action. if you don't study for the final, you might not do well. that's a consequence to your action. a ramification."

"oh. oh! okay. thank you!"

he didn't disconnect right away, and you could hear one of his frat brothers, you were unsure who, talking. and of course, you strained your ears to listen.

"it doesn't get annoying or anything?"

you heard peter's voice come next, and instantly perked up. "what?"

"dude, be so for real. she's hot, but like, as dumb as a third grader. do you have to talk to her like that too?" he laughed.

oof, you thought, sucks to be whoever it was they were talking about.

"sometimes. she's good in bed, though."

wait. he was talking about you. your jaw dropped. i mean, you were stupid, but not this stupid. so this is what "saturday night with the boys" was all about?

you heard collective laughing. you did stupid things sometimes, but never had the mental compacity to be embarrased by them. this, though? this was different.

you trusted peter.

he was the only person who never, ever, spoke to or about you like that. in fact, it was one of the reasons you'd grown to like him so much. because he was patient, he was kind, and never did he once judge you.

well, that's what you thought.

but you were dumb enough to think that just because he never spoke about it to you, he never spoke about it all.

you immediately disconnected the call, dropping your phone. trying to focus back on the movie, you nibbled on a piece of popcorn.

but you just couldn't get over it. did it bother him?

all the questions? the dim-witted stupidity? all the pink?

reluctantly, you glanced the hot pink bowl that held your snack.

you didn't mean to be so... like that. you were just being yourself. did peter not like you being yourself? no, no, of course not. if he didn't, then why would he be with you?

a little voice in the back of your head rang out; "because you're good in bed."

maybe it wouldn't hurt to try and raise your iq?

you turned off the tv, hot pink popcorn bowl forgotten. alyssa wouldn't mind if you borrowed something, right?

you opened her room door, walking over to her bookself. wrinkling up your nose, you scanned her shelf. how could someone like reading so much?

it was so... gross.

oh, well. maybe peter was into intellectuals. and you had better become before he left you for someone like that.

your eyes paused at a book titled "the hobbit".

"what's a... hobbit?" you asked, not to anyone in particular. you skipped it, looking at her other ones.

"'twisted love', 'the fault in our stars'... what'd the stars do?" picking up the book, you read the back. "huh," you remarked, putting it back.

instead, you grabbed a couple self-help books, struggling to hold them with your acrylic nails, which, of course, were bright pink... accentuated with big charms; bows and hearts.

you went back over to your room, dumping them on your bed. checking your nails again, you drummed them against your palm to make sure they were intact.

you started reading the first one, curling up in a blanket, but you kept getting distracted. every five seconds, you look up to make sure your lashes were still in place, or that your skin wasn't to shiny, or that your hair was still perfect. and to be honest, you didn't really understand any of it.

like, who actually had the patience to read through all of it? how could a book cure all your crap?

and why would you read a book to feel better, when you could go to a spa, or a shopping spree.

credit cards were invented for a reason.

but you powered through, at the very least, you skimmed the words. there was no way you could read it word for word. but you wanted to try... for peter.

you wanted him to stick around, to love you, but not superficially. not for sex.

you stayed up until 1:30 (mostly reading, and you still didn't understand how people did this for fun), but didn't call peter. you'd talk to him tomorrow, maybe. first, you needed to get your facts straight. eventually, you got ready for bed.

this included showering, taking off your makeup, putting your hair in rollers, and your fifteen-step skincare routine.

you may have been half asleep, but you'd never skip a step.

peter came over around noon monday, when neither of you had classes. "jeez, babe," he groaned, you in his lap, "i've got so much to do. seriously, i'm never gonna get it done."

you twirled your hair, appearing nonchalant, "your mindset is either your best friend, or worst enemy."

you kept your eyes trained on your phone, waiting for peter to respond. looking up, you saw him blink. "uh... yeah. that was- that was very... un-y/n-like."

to be honest, you didn't even know what the saying meant. you just memorized it from your book. "was it dumb?"

"no, it was smart," peter replied, kissing your hairline.

"i'm normally dumb?" you asked, tearing up. lips pouted, voice moist, you made eye contact with him. you knew you were a little slow, but dumb? really?

"no! that's not what i meant. it just sounded- well, i- cause you never say stuff like that. you're my smart, pretty girl."

"oh, okay," you said, your nails tracing the curve of his back. you pecked him on the lips, but he brought you back for a longer kiss.

you giggled as he flipped your positions, peter on top.

"can i show you just how pretty you are?"

he didn't have to ask twice.

you were in the dining hall, sitting with some of your friends, mixed with some of peter's.

they were talking as you picked at your salad, leaning into peter.

"ugh," sarah, you kind-of friend started, "my boss gave me a premotion."

"what the fuck are you complaining about?" alyssa scoffed.

"because! it means that i have to do more...! like, i'll have to get up earlier. i dunno if i'll take it. it's cooler than the one i have now, but but it's not as comforting."

you spoke up, completely confident, "commit to change. either embrace the challenge of pursuing your destiny or shy way and live in regret."

collective "oohs" and "damns" were heard around the table, and you reveled in it.

"okay, girl, you go."

"parker, when did your girlfriend get a braincell upgrade?" you looked at peter, waiting for him to shoot something back, but he didn't. you frowned slightly, going back to the salad.

it went on like that, you would pipe in and offer self-help advice (not really knowing what it meant) hoping for peter's attention. sometimes you got it, and sometimes you didn't.

it was fine, you wanted him to notice you. after all, you weren't reading for fun. you were doing it for him, so... just, like, notice already.

you'd been focusing so much on the self-help books, your nails had grown out, leaving space between your nail bed and acrylics. deciding to take some time away from the books and all their un-understandable wisdom, you wanted to paint your nails.

nothing to big, but more simple. you were finding it hard to turn the page with the large charms on the acrylics you normally had to.

you found some 100% acetone in your bathroom, so you soaked your nails, waiting for the acrylics to come off. once they got loose enough, they came off easily.

you did some prepping, then picked out two different shades of pink. you were about to start when you heard two long knocks, then two short ones.

(it was peter's special knock, so you'd always know when it was him.)

"come in!" you called out, and you saw a head of fluffy brown hair peek in.

"hey," he said, slipping in your room.

"hi, petey!"

he came up from behind you, hugging your waist. "whatcha doing?"

you opened a bottle of nail paint, "painting my nails."

"cute colors," he kissed your cheek, and you leaned in.

"right? pink is so pretty," you gushed.

"what are these?" peter asked, and you looked over curious as to what he was talking about.

"oh, just, like, lyss' books."

"yeah, but why're they in here?" he read the back of one, raising a brow.

you continued painting your nails, trying to appear chill. "i was reading them."

he seemed to do a double-take, and you frowned, "what?"

"nothing- nothing, i just..."

"i know how to read," you said, shoulders sagging. "i'm smarter than a third-grader," you didn't catch the slip-up, but he did.

that caught him off guard there, "what?"

"what?" looking up, you finally met his eyes.

"you said you- well, yeah, i know. you just don't-" he paused, "self-help books didn't seem like your thing is all. oh, is that why've you been saying all that?"

"saying what?"

"all the-" he didn't want to hurt your feelings, but if he was right, he already had. "the, um, advice?" he stammered. peter didn't trip over his words often, and you knew that.

you were sure that he knew that you knew, but you weren't sure if he knew for sure.

you shrugged, "doesn't it sound smart?"

"no, yeah, it does." he's treading very carefully. it was quiet for a brief moment; "did you hear?"

"hear what?"

"the... the comment i made?"

"oh, that one about me being stupid, but good in bed?" you said it so casually, as if it didn't bother you at all.

but it did. he knew it did.

he sighed, "i'm really sorry, baby."

"for what?"

"for saying that."

"no, you're sorry you got caught. you wouldn't have said it if you didn't mean it."

"i didn't- i was drunk," peter tried again.

"drunk words are sober thoughts," something else you read, you aren't sure where.

he was starting to get really nervous. he didn't know what was going through your head, normally he had a good idea, but it wasn't anything like this. it didn't seem like you hated him, but he wasn't about to take advantage.

"no, i-"

"it's okay. i'm working on it," you said, trying to make him feel better. as if you were the one who'd messed up, not peter. the idea itself was insane to him, and it only made him feel worse.

"angel," peter started, "this is not your fault. please don't make it your fault. i'm the one who messed up, and what i said was not okay. it was a stupid, drunk joke, and i shouldn't said it."

you blew on your nails, blinking back your tears. mascara, the good stuff, was expensive. you looked up, shocked to see tears in his eyes. you don't think you've ever seen him cry before. well, maybe once, when you watched "titanic" with him.

peter wasn't one to get emotional, he still denied ever crying over that movie.

"it's okay," you repeated again. you were dumb, you knew that. it really wasn't his fault, you shouldn't have pushed him to feel like that.

"but it's not. and i know you know that, please tell me what i can do to make it better."

"but-"

"no, it's not," he said sternly, "and i cannot stress that enough. i'm really sorry, baby."

you capped the polish, you didn't know what to say. it wasn't your fault? okay, fine.

maybe he was right.

"i got really upset," you admitted.

"i know, baby," the tears are falling, he quickly wipes them away.

"did you really mean it?"

"no, no, no, of course not. i absolutely love you the way you are, and you shouldn't have to change yourself for anyone- especially not for me."

"so you don't think i'm only good for sex?"

"baby, no, baby, no!" baby, he used that word for affection; when he was guilty, trying to prove something to you... in this case, how sorry he was. "you are good for so many other things," he paused, "okay, that didn't sound great."

he took a deep breath, taking your freshly painted hands in yours, "don't mess up the polish," you warned, even though you were tearing up.

peter smiled slightly, that meant you weren't too upset, right? that he hadn't fucked everything up by great means?

"i haven't ever met someone like you, who loves me the same back. and i don't mean generally, but romantically. lots of people can't put up with me," he started, "but you do, and jesus, baby, i'm so greatful for that- and you," peter added.

"you are the bright pink light of my life. you're so different from other girls i've been with, you see me. you don't look at me, you see me. like, okay, maybe you aren't the greatest at math, but you don't have to be a s.t.e.m. genius to be smart."

peter was getting raw, he was getting vunerable. "i don't know how to use a curling iron for the life of me, i don't know the difference between mascara and eyeliner. well, i do, but i didn't before you."

you looked at him, opening your mouth to speak. you wanted to tell him he'd lost you somewhere along the line, but figured it was important for him to get this out.

"you've got a different mindset than me, and i love that. you're the biggest feminist i've ever met, and wait until you meet may. i think it's interesting that your entire personality doesn't revolve around your degrees and resumes, because, god, people like that are annoying. most of all, you're confidence is amazing. i never had anything like that in high school."

you knew that he was a nerd, kept his head down, shoulders sagging. "i just... i'm sorry. i don't know why i said it. i'm a huge insecure jerk that thinks he can get away with crap by projecting it onto his lovely, amazing, wonderful girlfriend. you're my favorite person, and i can't help but think you'll leave me one day. i thought that if i acted like i didn't care... i don't know. i- i don't... i'm sorry."

you took moment, that's the longest he's ever spoken to you, but he wasn't done, apparently.

"also, i don't care about sex. i mean, it's nice and whatever, but what's the point of it if i don't have you. what i'm trying to say is, i'd pick you over that any day, okay? it doesn't matter to me. i'm not with you for that."

"thank you," you said, it seemed appropriate. basically, he just compliented you a whole lot, and it worked; you seem to have a thing for praising. "and i forgive you. also, i hated those stupid books, and if they weren't, like, alyssa's, i'd burn them."

you shuddered, "i can't believe i read them."

"really?" peter asked, hopeful. you kissed away a stray tear, looking into his wet eyes. "we're okay?"

"we're so okay," you paused, "but you have to watch bridgerton with me."

he groaned, "fine." (you knew he liked it, he just wouldn't ever admit to it.)

"wait, so just checking, you aren't into, like, intellectuals or whatever?"

"i'm into you," he said, "whether or not you idenify as one."

taglist: @whatsupstark @ell0ra-br3kk3r @idli-dosa @susvale @kdbsr-h @littlemsbumblebee @sflame15-blog @twinsunkithies @chocolateshepherddreamclod

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #spiderman #angst #tom holland x you #fluff #peter parker imagine #bimbo!reader #frat!peter #frat!peter x bimbo!reader #frat!peter x reader #peter x bimbo!reader

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eboni-napalm · 3 months

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(this didn't happen to me recently but it did to someone I know in a self-ship Discord server I'm in so I'm making a post on this because it needs to be said AGAIN.) - (long rant incoming, tw for mention of s*****e)

Hey, self-shippers- yes, ALL OF YOU, because we ALL need to crack down on this and do better- there's probably quite a few of us, if not a lot of us, that don't like sharing some of our F/O's, and that's okay.

However, what's NOT FUCKING OKAY is GOING INTO THE INBOX OR DM'S OF A USER WHO SHARES AN F/O WITH YOU THAT YOU'RE NOT COMFORTABLE SHARING AND CALLING THEM NAMES/SLURS, TELLING THEM THEY'LL NEVER LOVE THAT PERSON, AND/OR THEN SAYING THEY SHOULD ACTUALLY KILL THEMSELVES. What in the actual FUCK is wrong with you? I don't care if you're a minor or an adult in the community, that shit is absolutely disgusting and unacceptable.

We as a whole need to do better about cracking down on this kind of behavior, for real. Self-shipping is a place where people should be able to feel welcome and able to ship themselves with characters they love without having to feel like they have to walk on eggshells just so they don't incur the wrath of others who think it's okay to treat others like this. This shouldn't be what people imagine when they think of self-shippers, but a few bad apples will bring our image down and make it to where no one wants to even joke about interacting with us.

To those self-shippers who are not okay or comfortable sharing your F/O's in whatever way- if you come across someone who shares one of those characters with you, instead of pulling shit like that (especially on anon, you spineless cowards), either just block the person without saying anything if you don't interact or have never interacted with them, or if it's someone you know/are on good terms with, kindly inform them not to talk about that F/O in personal interactions or have them tag posts with a certain tag so you can block that tag and hide them from your view so you don't have to see them. There's ways around everything here that avoids being an asshole to people and they're not that difficult to do.

I want to be proud to be part of this community as someone who's in it, not ashamed of it because of instances like this; even if they don't happen very often, they still happen, and they shouldn't. We can do better, we can be better.

Spread love, not hate. Please. ❤️

#self ship rant #self shipping rant #tw: long post #tw: sui mention #self ship #self shipper #self shipping #self ship community #self shipping community #romantic f/o #platonic f/o #familial f/o

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echobx · 17 days

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Drunk - jj maybank × fem!reader

summary: JJ is taking care of his drunk girlfriend at a party

warnings: pure fluff, JJ PoV

word count: 1.4k

author's note: this was deep in my drafts bc it was originally not a reader fic, but I was never gonna finish it any more than what it is now. I hope you like it.

I watched y/n get up, her short dress had shimmied itself upwards, and she didn't even try to tug it down. She stumbled forward, and I jumped up and caught her before she could fall, pulling the fabric down just enough to cover her up more. “Please let go, I have to pee,” she announced but just as I did she started falling over her own feet and I had to catch her again. “Let me help you,” I said with a smile, and she looked at me confused. “Just this one time, and keep the hands where they belong,” she slurred. The whole walk to the bathroom she was tensed up in my arms and kept trying to shake me off. “I can pee by myself,” she sneered as I wanted to follow her in, to make sure she wouldn't fall and hurt herself. “I really shouldn't leave you by yourself, you could get hurt,” I tried to convince her, but she gave me a firm “No” and closed the door.

“Do you want to use the bathroom?” her voice was quiet and high-pitched. “No, princess, let's just get you back to the others,” I chuckled and wanted to take her in my arms, but she wouldn't let me. “No touching,” she said and started walking, or more like wobbling over the hardwood floor in her five-inch heels, trying her best to navigate through the crowd. “Why are you following me?” she asked and turned around to me, and I would've nearly run into her. “I have to make sure you're okay, I always do that, darling,” I chuckled, but she seemed more confused about that. “You look familiar,” she mumbled, and I took her hand and pulled her into me. “Do I?” I whispered while staring at her lips before looking up into her gorgeous brown eyes. “Very,” she mumbled, the smell of tequila and vodka prominent in her breath. “Would be weird if I didn't,” I laughed and wanted to kiss her, but she turned her head quicker than I could react to it and I only hit her cheek. “It's impolite to kiss someone without asking first,” she noted and started walking again.

The only seat that was left when we got back to our friends, was a single lounge chair and I simply let myself fall into it. “Where am I supposed to sit now?” y/n mumbled drunkenly. “Here,” I said and lightly slapped my thigh. “No, thank you,” she replied in a slightly disgusted tone. “I can get up and sit on the floor, would that make you feel better,” I suggested while our friends watched the scene and seemed rather amused by it. “I can do that,” y/n said and nodded. I got up and let her sit, before placing myself right in front of her, leaning my head against her legs that she had pulled up onto the chair. “You are a very persistent young man,” y/n chuckled, and I turned my head to look at her. “You could say that, yes.” I grinned at her. It was clear to me that she didn't recognize me, too drunk to remember anything that happened to her, and it would be even worse the next day. “She really had way too much,” John B laughed. “Bird boy, why is this guy so interested in me? Doesn't he know that I have a boyfriend?” y/n spoke up, and I had to laugh, it wasn't like I would've been able to hold it back even if I had tried to. “Yeah, I'm thinking the same, very weird of you, guy,” JB played into it and I flipped him off, just to get smacked in the head by y/n. “That's my friend! Don't insult him!” She glared at me and the rest of the Crew just laughed. “I will be on my very best behavior, princess,” I whispered and kissed her hand while looking into her eyes. “I have a JJ,” she mumbled but couldn't stop herself from blushing. “I know, I don't think he's going to mind, actually. Was just a hand kiss.” I winked at her. “That's not how that works. He's gonna find out and then break your pretty nose, very sad,” she sighed before looking back up at our friends. “He's really good at breaking noses.” “I believe he's good at other things too,” I said, and she tugged on my hair, her fingers entangled in my strands. “You have nice hair, mystery boy. Feels nice,” she mumbled. “He's actually very jealous, you should look out, so you don't cross any paths with him,” Pope indulged in her drunk fantasy. “I should take you home then, to make sure that he won't get any more jealous,” I said and got up, holding my hand out for y/n to take, but she refused. “No, thank you, I have friends who can bring me home. Strange mystery guys don't need to know where I live,” she replied and turned her head away from me. “Y/n, please, it's better if we go home now,” I tried to convince her, but she was still refusing me. “I'm not going,” she insisted, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I'm gonna go get some food and water,” Kiara sighed and got up while I was still only focused on my girlfriend.

“Tell me more about him. Your JJ,” I whispered to her, sitting back down in front of her, just this time, so I was facing her. “Oh, he's the best. I love my JJ,” she sighed and slumped in her seat. “Why do you love him?” I asked quietly, and she threw her hands in the air. “I can't explain it.” “Pretty hard to explain, isn't it,” I mumbled, and she eyed me as if she was finally trying to understand who she was talking to, but it still didn't click. “You can tell us what you love about him,” Sarah suggested and y/n started grinning widely. “He's very talented, very talented I say. Yes, yes. My JJ can sing and draw and surf and fix things. Very good.” She nodded, and I had to chuckle over how cute she was being. “He's very good at sex too,” she admitted, and I stared at her with wide eyes. “Tell us more,” Kiara giggled and put the pizza and water bottle down by my side. “Very good at that. Very. Sometimes he does this thing with his tongue-” I jumped up and put my hand over her mouth before she could spill any more of our secrets. “I think you should try some food before you keep talking, my love,” I suggested, but she didn't seem to like it. “You can't tell me anything, mystery boy,” she hissed at me.

“I think we should play a game,” Kiara proposed and Sarah cheered, she was drunk too, not as drunk as y/n but drunk enough. “I like games. Sit down, boy,” y/n said and pointed at the floor next to her. I shook my head and chuckled, as long as she wouldn't accidentally hurt herself I had to be okay with it all. “What game are we playing?” I asked and held out the pizza for y/n to take a slice. “Oh, I know,” John B exclaimed and laid the empty tequila bottle onto the table and spun it. The neck pointed at y/n, who was still refusing to take a slice. “I dare you to eat a slice of this pizza, y/n/n,” JB said, and I gave him a thankful nod. “That's a stupid game,” she complained but took the slice either way, then she got up and spun the bottle too.

We played for some time before Sarah's spin landed on me, and she yelled “kiss y/n/n” with all the strength she had left in her. I looked up at the girl I loved, but her eyes were filled with confusion, but also curiosity. “He wouldn't mind it, it's just a game, I promise,” I said to her while getting up and then pulling her into my arms. “Just a game,” she repeated and gazed at me. With one hand on her hip and the other on her cheek, I let my thumb grace over her lips. “Pretty lips,” I hummed and leaned in closer. I wanted to go slow, savor the moment even though she wouldn't be able to remember it the next day. My nose grazed hers and I could feel her drunk breath tingling on my lips. Her lips encompassed mine with urgency and care while her hands found their way into my neck. It felt like kissing her for the first time all over again; soft and lovingly. "You kiss nearly as good as my JJ," she whispered and I smirked. "I fucking hope so."

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart @princessmaybank

#jj maybank #obx #my writing #outer banks #jj maybank x reader #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #jj maybank x y/n #jj maybank x you #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank pov #jj maybank fluff

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brigdh · 8 months

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I want to talk about Izzy's rant to Ed in episode 10, the one that brings out the Kraken. I've seen a lot of different descriptions of what is going on in this scene – death threat, homophobic slurs, etc – and I don't think either of those are what's actually what's happening.

Let's look at it closely, line by line, and the way Ed reacts, from the very beginning of the scene.

Ed: Well, feels nice to tidy up a little. Can't believe I was living like this. Can you, Iz? Izzy? Izzy: I'm going to speak plainly. Ed: Wonderful. You know we share our thoughts on this ship.

Izzy, cont: This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death.

Okay. So there we've got what some have interpreted as a death threat. But does Ed seem threatened? He's startled, certainly, put on his back foot – literally – but he doesn't look afraid or alarmed to me. He draws in a slow breath, assessing the situation, but overall seems more confused than frightened.

In fact he laughs it off with his next line:

Izzy then escalates the level of aggression in the conversation:

But Ed, again, looks more confused than anything. Check out that furrowed brow, that head tilt! This is a man going "what is your deal?", not a man thinking "uh-oh, you might kill me!".

Extremely noticeably, even when Izzy storms right up into his face, Ed holds steady. He doesn't run, doesn't lean back, doesn't hunch his shoulders or drop eye contact – there is no vulnerability or defensiveness in Ed's body language at all. Ed is in supreme control of this confrontation – look at the slow way he deigns to turn back to the paper Izzy's holding! As though he's making the point that he chooses when to turn, not Izzy:

Then we have the "homophobic slur". But watch closely:

Ed does not react to "namby-pamby", "silk gown", or "pining" at all. He doesn't even blink. He barely seems like he's hearing Izzy. His entire attention is on the picture.

Ed's body language and behavior changes at one word and one word only, and that is "boyfriend". As soon as Izzy says it, Ed's furious:

(It's even easier to notice when you actually watch the scene instead of using gifs, because Izzy really draws out 'piiiiiiining', putting a lot of time between the first half of the sentence and 'boyfriend'.)

Why is the use of the word 'boyfriend' so important?

Well, what has Ed been doing all episode? He's been crying in a blanket fort and singing sad songs, yes, but he's been keeping a careful level of mystique about why he's doing it. Ed often uses distanced circumlocutions instead of directly acknowledging his emotions, but he's doing it in this episode even more so than usual:

Here are the lyrics to his song:

(Version one, with Lucius) Hanging on By a thread Hanging on Shouldn't let go If I let go, all will fall Fingers bleeding down to the bone now Can't let go Nothing makes sense Hold on Hold on Hold... on

(Version two, performed for the whole crew) Just let go Make yourself let go Make it go away Away, away today Life's a hard sad death And then you're Deaaad

Notice something? There is no mention of Stede, or love, or break-ups, or abandonments, or relationships in general. All Ed discusses is a vague life-sucks attitude, which could apply to basically anyone under any circumstances. He seems pretty okay with people knowing that Blackbeard is having some sort of weird emotional breakdown as long as he convinces himself that no one knows it's specifically from having his heart broken

This is true of everything Ed says and does for this entire episode. He never once even mentions Stede's name, unless "Farewell, Bonnet's playthings" at the very end counts. The only thing Ed openly admits to feeling bad about is a fictional character who's having a hard time "holding on" (holding on to what? he never says). There are no allusions to heartbreak or romance anywhere in his dialogue.

Now, Ed's not stupid. I'm sure he knows Izzy and Lucius and the rest of the crew can connect the dots and realize that something bad happened with Stede, even if Ed doesn't fill them in on the details. But Ed is also traumatized, and has a whole host of coping mechanisms set up to help him avoiding thinking about things that he doesn't want to think about. If he's not a murderer because "technically the fire killed those guys", then no one knows he's heartbroken because technically he hasn't acknowledged it.

Until Izzy says the word 'boyfriend'. Suddenly the secret is out, and Ed can't handle it. Izzy knows his weakness. That's why this word effects Ed more than anything else Izzy says in the whole scene.

At the end of the confrontation, he hears the crew calling for another song. Look at Ed here. He looks as haunted, as disturbed, in this moment as he does at any point in Izzy's rant.

This is an important part of the scene, not just a closing note. Because if Izzy (the Caribbean's most emotionally constipated man) can see through him, obviously the whole crew can too.

Obviously Lucius – who advised Ed on his and Stede's relationship, who played along with Ed's 'fictional character' claim, who wrote down Ed's lyrics – can do so most of all.

There's a direct emotional logic to Ed killing Lucius because he had a fight with Izzy, and it doesn't involve Ed having been threatened or hate crime'd at all. Ed doesn't deal well with his own feelings (from Stede), so he chooses to become Blackbeard/the Kraken and gets rid of all the witnesses who saw otherwise.

#meta #our flag means death #I've been thinking about writing this up for a while but finally got motivated to finish it before S2

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yjhariani · 1 year

Text

Warnings: Mention of Reader being addressed with a slur.

Regardless of how convincing you thought you were, Simon could tell whether or not you were asleep. It might be from how there was a tension that you did not realise you were having on your shoulder or the way your breathing was paced. He knew you pretended to sleep.

Gently, Simon lied down on the bed, next to you. Carefully, in case you were actually asleep—though he doubted it—and he did not want to startle you, put a gentle hand on your waist.

There was a moment of silence and in that moment you felt his gentle breath on your skin before he placed a light kiss on your shoulder.

"'m sorry," Simon said quietly. "Didn't mean to start a fight like that."

He did anyway.

"Definitely didn't mean for anyone to get hurt. Mentally or not," Simon added, but you heard a hitch on his throat as he took his words back. "I… of course, that means not you. Didn't mean for you to get hurt."

You did not give a response.

"Yeah, I'm really sorry," Simon said after a while. "Hope you understand. I wasn't really thinking—"

"No shit," you heard yourself say without helping it.

Simon was a little surprised that you responded. He thought this apology would only be a monologue and you both would be fine the next morning.

It took him a moment before he continued to say what he wanted to say.

"I only looked at him approaching you and I hate every single thing about him. The way he walked to you, the way he looked at you," Simon explained. "I did tell him to piss off and he didn't."

You looked at where Simon's hand was placed. There were bruises on his knuckles and bits of skins peeled off. He only washed it and not even taking care of it in the slightest.

"I didn't mean to scare you either," Simon said, entirely missing the shift of your gaze towards his hand.

Simon was about to continue talking, but you got up into a sitting position and looked at him. Now that he saw you giving him attention, he was a little bit flustered and looked away.

Another silence came.

Without saying anything, you walked off to get a box of first aid kit. When you returned, Simon sat where he was and had a very faint look of panic in his eyes. Until he looked at what you had in your hands.

You sat on the edge of the bed and gently pulled him towards your side.

"You didn't scare me, you worry me," you stated as you prepared to take care of his hand.

"Um… yeah, well, I… you shouldn't. I'm—I just-I just have you in mind and nothing else and the way he looked at you set me off," Simon sighed.

"He had a knife, Simon," you brought up.

"Which I disarmed from him the second I saw it," Simon said.

"It's still a knife!" you yelped and accidentally dabbed alcohol on Simon's wound too hard that he flinched.

You let go of Simon's hand in reflex.

"You could've been hurt badly," you added, opening your palm to ask for his hand.

Simon took a moment, crafting words in his mind. He sighed.

A knife would not be able to kill him. Not even a tank could. However, you did not know about that. You did not know anything about his past.

Simon had not a guess on what you thought he used to work as other than an ordinary soldier. He did not plan to tell you anything about that. You had no idea about Ghost and he intended to keep it that way. However, working construction had nothing to do with knives so he could not make up any reason relating to it.

There was no way he could make up any reason without mentioning his past anyway. So, he decided to agree with you.

"Right," Simon said in the end, putting his injured hand on yours. "I'm sorry."

"I mean, you're still hurt and for what? You could've just pulled me away," you replied.

"I should've," Simon sighed.

"Don't say that to just shut me up," you warned.

"No, you're right," Simon insisted. "If something like that happen again, I'll do what you said. Promise."

You finished tending to Simon's hand with a kiss to the back of his hand.

"I don't want you to get hurt like this," you said.

"I don't… want you to get hurt," Simon replied, "at all."

You put his hand down and gathered the first aid kit, avoiding his gaze for what he just said.

Simon only looked at you, remembering the event that happened no more than a few hours ago.

It was after Simon caught that guy walking towards you with that look in his eyes. The start of it was not exactly violent. They were trading insults until they eventually got close enough. They were forehead to forehead and they started threatening each other quietly.

Simon decided that he wanted to tell you about what happened after even though you were there, watching, telling him to knock it off and leave. You just did not hear the conversation he had with this other guy. In hope that you would feel better about today's incident.

"Just so you'd feel better," Simon said, carefully, "I wasn't gonna hit him first."

"Why did you?" you asked.

"He called you a slur," Simon answered.

"Oh," you responded, finally realising why he was so angry.

Simon only punched the guy once. At first. Then, the other guy fought back, so Simon fought back in response. That was when the other guy pulled out a knife.

"Well, um… you still got hurt, but thank you for punching him in the face. Multiple times. I love you so much," you said.

There was something that drove Simon to smile a little. You smiled back at him and opened your arms before wrapping them around him. Simon returned the gesture and buried the side of his face in your hair.

"So, apology accepted?" Simon concluded.

"There's nothing to apologise to," you replied.

#simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost #ghost x reader

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hexbees · 4 months

Text

Dread and Drunk | Draco Malfoy

pairing:: deatheater!draco x f!reader no use of y/n!

summary:: after leaving a party in the slytherin commons, the room of requirement allows you in.

word count:: 1,265

warnings:: consumption of alcohol; drunk actions/talking

You’d never been able to hold firewhiskey well, usually stumbling through the hidden entrance embedded in the dungeon walls to the slytherin common room at the end of the night. Keeping focus on the way your feet rise and fall, you keep a hand firmly planted along the wall. Lord forbid you repeat what happened last term and embarrass yourself again.

The memory of you being woken up by Cedric, having passed out from intoxication barely twenty feet from the door, instilled more motivation within yourself to keep it together. While you tried your hardest it was clear you shouldn't have taken those last two shots before leaving.

The first few minutes passed by you in a blur, having gone up a set of stairs you don't remember. You came to a halt in the middle of the corridor, swiveling your head, not knowing exactly where you were. It wasn't a hall that you recognized. Typically you didn't wander around the castle without a known destination in mind, having heard stories of classmates getting lost.

A door slowly appeared, catching your attention. You watched as it formed from a tiny hole, barely big enough for a mouse, into a door three times your size. Your mouth dropped open, head tilting, you pressed a shaky hand into it.

What the fuck?

When it creaked open and fell away from your hand, you stumbled. Taking the smallest peek inside, not wanting to enter a room you weren't sure you were allowed in, you remembered the tales Hermione had told you in the library.

The room of requirement. Of course! Gods, I'm a dumbass.

Without even second guessing after your realization, you droopily walked in. The room was filled with stale air and an unbelievable amount of dust. Surely the castle didn't think you needed a respiratory infection.

Your fingers glossed across countless piles of books, the covers having traces of the glide imprinted from sweeping the dust off. You wiped the pads off onto your jeans, not even caring about them appearing dirty as you’d be taking them off as soon as you’d make it to your dorm.

My dorm. I'm going to my dorm.

With a huff and a single pound in your head you decided to turn back around with the intention of leaving to make your way back to your inviting bed.

Just before you stepped over the threshold there was a faint knock, almost like something being closed. It was enough to have you jump slightly, being caught off guard and somewhat alarmed.

In your drunken state you didn't think there was any danger, maybe it had just been from the breeze of the door being open since it seemed like it hadn't been in a while.

“Hello?” The word came out slightly unsure and slurred.

When you didn't get an answer, not that you’d expected one, you huffed.

“Dumbass.”

You retreated again, this time truly stepping out and letting the door slowly come to a shut behind you. Before it fully did, a voice rang out, gruff and annoyed.

“The fuck did you call me?”

Your heart leaped to the bottom of your throat and settled there. Draco malfoy had emerged from the back of the room, barely being visible as his hand caught the door. He was irritated, suffering from a lack of sleep and a heavy heart.

“I-” you stuttered, “I- uh-” again, “I was actually referring to myself.”

He could smell the firewhiskey seeping off your breath, saw the way your eyes were being dragged down, how your feet were restless.

“Oh, you're pissed.” His brows rose, eyes glittering across the gryffindor pride t shirt you were wearing. The maroon of it was just slightly darker than your cheeks, he found it amusing.

“Mm” you hummed, swaying. When you nodded your head along your feet lost their balance, sending you stumbling to the side.

Before you could attempt to regain your footing from your delayed reflexes, one of his pale hands came down and out, grabbing ahold of your own hand. He steadied you back on your feet while suppressing his smile. You were shocked at his hand on yours, staring at it in a daze until your eyes climbed up his forearm where you could see the faintest outline of the dark mark peeking through his white button up.

“Gryffindor commons are quite a ways from here. I assume you were at the Slytherin party?”

You hummed again, not meeting his eyes or attempting to hold a real conversation. You were so tired, maybe sleeping in the hall again wasn't such a bad idea. You’d only need an hour or two before you'd be able to find your way back again.

He kept his head at an angle. He’d been angry at first, ready to throw insults and hexes at whoever was attempting to flee from interrupting his task. But with every sway and every sleepy flutter of your eyes he couldn't help the smile that tugged at how cute you were in that moment.

“Well,” he bent down, looking past the hair that was draped over your eyes to meet them, “I have one more thing to do in here, then I can escort you to your commons.” His hand was still engulfing yours in an attempt to help with your jitter, admittedly not doing much. He pulled on it gently, bidding you to follow him back into the room of requirement.

If you were even the smallest bit sober you yank your hand out of his, crush his foot with yours and bolt in the other direction. But the gentle hold, the minty fan of his breath and the sweet voice he was putting on only made you more willing. He was being nice, which was not unusual to you; to others of course, but not you. He’d bullied Harry and the Weasleys, called Hermione a Mudblood more times than you could count, but had never directed any insults at you. There was speculation against the trio as to why, having caught on fairly quickly in second year. The consensus was that his mother and yours, were friends, god forbid Draco ever upset his dear mother.

“Thank you, Malfoy.” You smiled at his back.

He didn't drop your hand until you were in front of a couch and laying back into it. The soft black velvet felt abnormally good under your fingertips as you pet at it.

Draco let out a laugh, almost being jealous of the inanimate object that got to feel your caress. You see, Draco had always craved it. None of his friends knew, not Blaise or Pansy or even Crabbe or Goyle. The only one who had caught on was his mother. Narcissa had watched him, watch you, at an annual Malfoy ball. She’d rubbed on his shoulder and told him to go for it. Encouraged him to seek you out, say you looked pretty, ask you to dance.

Draco was never one for romantics though, not at that time.

“Should be just a minute” He stood in front of you, smiling down as he swiped a strand of hair that had gotten stuck between your eyelashes.

As he went to finish packing up the vanishing cabinet you let words slip past your lips, meaning to promise it to yourself in your head.

“I won't tell anyone, Draco.”

He froze with his back to you, straightening out and holding his breath. He had seen you look; he just hoped you were too drunk to notice it.

“I know you won't, mon amour.”

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sokkastyles · 3 months

Note

since you have spoken out of turn ONCE AGAIN I, “the stupid Stan” must educate you, the actually stupid Stan

This is one of the more depressing lines in ATLA, because Azula tried to peacefully coexist with Zuko earlier, because she tried to give everything he ever wanted and acted on the premise that it was possible for both siblings to be happy, successful, and equal.

But as a result Zuko’s actions she’s come to accept the toxic paradigm of sibling competition created by Ozai and accepted by Zuko where the rise of one sibling inevitably means the fall of another, where it is impossible for her to coexist with her brother unless(at the very least) one of them has been violently forced into submission by the other(if it is possible to coexist at all).

You know, Katara runs out into the arena at the Agni Kai just when Zuko is beginning to taunt Azula about lightning. I have zero idea of what was going through her mind.

You know, ever time I think about the final Agni Kai, I’m reminded why I’m terrified that Zuko having Azula under his control post-canon would lead to him abusing her. I like to think and hope that he’s better than that, but it would absolutely be keeping with the dynamics between the siblings. Azula shouldn’t have power over Zuko, and Zuko shouldn’t have power over Azula; otherwise things will end poorly

#zuzu stans are retarded

I "spoke out of turn"? You came into my inbox, numbnuts.

Also, poor choice of words unless you're trying to mimic Ozai, which does seem the case considering everything else you've said.

At least you're not making any pretense that this is about protecting disabled people, since you feel very comfortable using an ableist slur, or about feminism, given the other asks you sent me calling me a "stupid bitch." I shouldn't bother with your nonsense but this one is actually really dangerous for the myths about abuse it puts out.

I like to think and hope that he's better than that

Don't lie. You are VERY willing to demonize Zuko and twist the narrative to make it look like he's the abuser. You just aren't very good at it.

Azula DID NOT try to "peacefully coexist" with Zuko, and that claim in and of itself is abuse apologism. Because there is no peaceful coexistence while Zuko is living with Ozai, and Azula not only brought him back there, she would have brought him back there as a prisoner if he hadn't sided with her.

She's not doing him a favor by bringing him back as an ally because she is the reason he was a prisoner in the first place. She's not doing him a favor by telling him to stay away from Iroh because she is also the reason that Iroh is a prisoner. But abusers are actually very invested in creating problems just to convince you that they can provide the only solution. It is literally an abuse tactic. That is what Azula does when she tries to "peacefully coexist" with Zuko. None of this is for Zuko's benefit, but it benefits Azula for Zuko to think it is.

It also benefits Ozai, since Ozai wants Azula to be his golden child and Zuko to take the blame for everything Ozai doesn't approve of. Ozai did not encourage them to fight each other, and he certainly didn't encourage them to compete. It makes no sense that he would, because he does not want Zuko, his scapegoat, to be able to or even think he could compete with his golden child. He doesn't want them to fight each other. He wants Azula to fight Zuko. And Azula wants that, too.

You say that Azula should not have power over Zuko but fail to acknowledge that Azula did have power over Zuko, which is why when she brings him back to his abuser with a heavy dose of "prove you're not a traitor" and the knowledge that if he didn't, he'd be thrown in prison, plus being separated from the one adult who actually cares about his well-being, it isn't a peaceful coexistence. Zuko is not peacefully coexisting, he shows telltale traits of being abused and gaslit, and describes how he feels like he's not himself, feels like he's losing his mind, is angry all the time but can't articulate why. It's because he's being abused.

Azula also has power over Zuko by virtue of being Ozai's golden child who Ozai allowed and encouraged to treat her brother badly. That's another big reason why there is no peaceful coexistence under Ozai's roof. Not because of some general idea that they're in competition or are mutually toxic to each other. That's actually a myth that abusers use to try and control their victims and obfuscate their own culpability.

Oh, there's also the fact that Azula tried to kill Zuko numerous times.

Azula should not be allowed to have power in any capacity and she's shown that she's very capable of manipulating Zuko and others even from the diminished position she is in in the comics, and that is because he wants to help her and makes the mistake of trusting her. Interpreting this as him somehow abusing his power over her is a very deliberate attempt to make the victim seem like the perpetrator.

Also lol at the victim blaming of Katara that is casually thrown in there. Really doesn't help your argument!

#azula #zuko #ozai #abuse cw #azula stans are stupid

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sp1rit-realm · 6 months

Text

༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

༻¨*:· summary ·:*¨༺ you hate remus lupin, and he hates you. what happens when you get stuck in a lift together?

༻¨*:· notes ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 IOU!!!!! 𖦹 enemies to ?? 𖦹 fem!reader 𖦹 guys srry this is so short :< 𖦹 BUT biiiiig progress is about to be made in the next chapter 𖦹 also thank you all for waiting so so long for this. lobe u all <33 𖦹 i did not proofread this bc i'm lazy ⎝(ˊᗜˋ)⎠

𖦹 taglist form!!! (hopefully this one works ToT)

༻¨*:· word count ·:*¨༺ 𖦹 613

masterlist / breather << pt. 10 -- IOU >> wedding

༻¨*:· 𝐈𝐎𝐔 ·:*¨༺

"Happy one-month anniversary!" Remus walks up to you, and you look at him with a puzzled expression.

"Anniversary?"

"We've been friends for a month!" In his stretched-out hand is a flower. Your favorite kind.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"They're my favorite flower," You sighed dreamily, staring at the vase in the hotel lobby.

"Yeah?" He asks with a flushed face—he's had a couple too many drinks.

"Yeah. There's something so beautiful about them. I can't quite put my finger on it."

"There doesn't need to be a reason," He slurs, "You can just love them because they're lovely."

"I suppose I can," You shrug.

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

"I remember you said they were your favorite," He rubs the back of his neck, "And I wanted to celebrate."

"Thank you, Remus." You smile, and he blushes when your fingertips brush as you grab the flower.

"You see those two?" Sirius whispers to Harry, who intently watches him with big, green eyes, "They're friends now. For the past month, they've been friends. They even hung out once by themselves." Harry smiles and claps, squealing with joy. It catches your attention, and you walk over to the young baby.

"Oh, someone's happy," You coo, ruffing up his hair, "So smiley!" You pinch his cheeks.

"Stop trying to steal him from me!" Sirius whines.

"I'm not stealing him from you," You turn back to Harry, "I'm just showing him all the love he deserves," You tear up when he stares into your eyes. Just such a precious baby born from love and care. You hope it will be the same way when you have a baby. And then you realize that you're still young, and you have nobody to have a baby with, and you shouldn't be having these thoughts right now!

But then you look back into his eyes, and he giggles and reaches in your direction. He wants to be held. Sirius swoops him up before you can, "That's enough of that!" He sneers, "Harry is mine, not yours."

"He's actually mine." Lily smiles as she walks up to her boy. "Hello," She coos, "Who's the cutest in the world?" She asks, taking her child from Sirius's hands, "You are!" She boops him on the nose, and Harry giggles.

"You find that funny?" She asks, tapping his nose again. He giggles harder, and you swear he's the happiest baby in the entire world.

"He's cute, isn't he?"

The voice sends a shiver down your spine, "You scared me!" You playfully hit Remus on his shoulder.

"Sorry," He laughs, "Promise I didn't mean to."

"You're cruel, Lupin."

And he fears he's right back at the start. You're calling him Lupin—you haven't called him Lupin since… since your feud.

But then you smile at him, and he swears it's like the sun is shining in his face; he is blinded by your beauty, and he knows you're joking.

"Got you a little scared there, did I, Remus?"

"You say my name so nice." He breathes out.

"Remus," You test, and he sighs, "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"I'm going to use my 'IOU,' okay?"

Remus nods, "Lay it on me."

"Will you be my date to Marly and Cas's wedding?"

"Uh..." Remus's hand goes to the back of his head, and as he scratches, he feels his heart explode. Yes, he will be your date for a wedding. He will be your date anywhere, anytime.

"It's okay if not," You scramble out, "I understand."

"No! No, I'll be your date," He smiles gently, "I'd love to be your date."

"Really?" You smile, and Remus swears you've illuminated the room.

"Of course."

"They are in love," Lily whispers to Harry, who nods importantly.

EEEEEKKKKKK

again, sorry this is so short, but i promise next one is going to have some big stuff!!!!!!!!!!!!!

taglist: @djlance-rock

#sp1rit realm #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x fem!reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x reader enemies to lovers #remus lupin fic #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin enemies to lovers #remus lupin series #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader fluff #༻¨*:· 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐓 ·:*¨༺

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simplepotatofarmer · 11 months

Text

Blog Update:

Hi, it's me, Loyal.

I just want to say first and foremost, I really do love (parts of) the fandom and I'm not going anywhere.

I will, however, not be around as much. One, I'm about to enter an all day intensive treatment plan so I'll literally just be on in the evening. Two, as much as I'm going to keep writing and creating, I have no intention of interacting publicly with fandom as much as I have.

I can't. It's actually fucking insane that it's gotten to this point. I made tribute post and because I used lyrics from Dream's song, I got harassed. The people doing this, acting like this, thinking this way are insane.

So in case it's not clear: Based on my personal lived experience and some information that's come to light, I still enjoy Dream's content. You can approach me personally, off anon, if you want to know my reasoning. If you dislike me for this, that's fine. But I'm done trying to walk this fine line just so I don't get people threatening me, my kids, and my pets. Just so people stop sending me the city I live in, so they stop digging up twelve year old tweets, so they stop calling me slurs and suicide baiting me.

That's absolutely insane. It's horrible. It's disgusting and I was honestly just sitting here, taking it, because I'm terrified of upsetting people and losing friends if I say 'yeah, I'm excited for a new manhunt and I also this song helped me and my kids process my grief'. And the worst part is, it's not an unfounded fear. People have done the most vile shit to me. People I thought were friends jumped on me instead of those harassing me.

I just want to post about Techno and c!Rivals duo and not worry about whether or not this post is going to get me hate. I don't want to worry about how random discord servers are talking about me.

Because that's fucking batshit. Not the worrying, but what these people are doing and I'm tired of letting this effect me. I have enough going on in my personal life. My partner of 15 years almost died. We almost lost our house. I should be able to come online and post about the silly minecraft guys I like and their RP and lore without censoring myself out of fear of literally being doxxed and cyber stalked. I should be able to talk about the racism that effects me without being afraid people will make it about cc drama or calling me slurs or erasing my identity as an Ojibwe person.

The people doing this are the problem. It hurts that so many people are part of this, it really does. But I can't keep letting it get to me. I've always done my best to be kind. I haven't been perfect, especially not lately, because all this hate and stress has gotten to me. I've lashed out. I shouldn't have.

And I shouldn't have had to deal with all that shit in the first place. I hope no one else does. It's terrifying and draining and I'm done.

So I intend to post the things I enjoy, I intend to reblog my friends' art, write the Emerald duo and Rivals duo fics I want to. I want to post about the Syndicate and the new manhunt when it comes out. That's what I'm going to do.

Asks are staying off for the moment because people are too happy to make burner blogs but I'll probably turn them back on at some point as I love answering lore and headcanon questions and, again, it's fucked up I can't enjoy an aspect of the site and fandom because people can't just leave me alone.

To those people: Get help. You're harassing someone because you think they deserve it and that's the most fucked up thing.

To everyone else: So so many of you have been amazing. You've been supportive, you've been kind. That kindness and support speaks volumes and I love you all. I genuinely love you. Dreblr, you've been here for me for over a year at this point and I cannot thank you enough. You are the best part of fandom as far as I'm concerned. And to Dtblr, y'all have come to support me countless times and that means the world to me, it really does. As for all my fellow Rivals duo fans, you people are worth your weight in gold for the joy you bring. A special shout-out to @vpofcookies because you've been here since the beginning, practically, and I love you. There's more but you know who you are.

Anyway, I've been carrying this for awhile and I'm tired. I'm no longer going to give any amount of thought to the people determined to drag me down and harass me constantly.

My best advice is stop focusing on the things and people you hate and instead focus on what you love. That's what I plan to do, from here on out.

#I had someone help me write this because it's been a lot but hopefully this makes sense and explains things.#I'm leaving tomorrow. I just had a break because of everything that happened lately. With the car and then missing Techno so much.#Then the sudden onslaught it was like. Wow. This isn't good! I need change.#So I'm changing things. And I do know this is going to get me hate of course.#But I mean. I'm done with caring about that. I have people and things that I love and that's what I care about.#loyal talks about stuff and things #I'm not tagging this as discourse because like this is my literal fandom experience.

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lol-jackles · 19 days

Note

At the Crossroads 8 convention this past weekend Misha was in “spectacular” form. Is he irrelevant enough to get away with saying the things he did (see below), or could this negatively impact him at all? Also, how likely is it he’ll behave like this at his next con that Jensen is at?

“I’m the one who f***** you hard and raised you from perdition”

https://x.com/sarahjay55/status/1784617852156157955?s=46&t=wx4CnlP_QMqkNn_0DvA9HQ

“If the CW had been less homophobic then Dean and Cas would definitely have been balls deep."

https://x.com/raths_kitten/status/1784630676689490335

He said a slur

https://x.com/raths_kitten/status/1784630981334385116

And finally he was in a “foul mood” at some of his ops (not a new occurrence I know)

https://x.com/raths_kitten/status/1784519380711190889

Link. Link. Link. Link. Is he irrelevant? Yes, with the general audience since 2013 (season 9) and hence why he thought his fake bisexual coming out announcement wouldn't get picked up by People mag. And now he's becoming irrelevant in the SPN fandom as well and why he's going hard with the Destiel-baiting again. Recurring and side actors are known to queerbait their characters because they don’t get residuals from syndication deals so what do they care if they mislead a few fans. Misha is in the same boat because he's been demoted a few times on SPN and hence less residuals, especially over time.

While I actually don't ding Misha for queerbaiting his paying fans, but he shouldn't be slamming the network that helped him stay employed for a decade, no matter how irrelevant he is now. A simple google search will show that GLAAD had praised CW for their abundance of LGBT+++ characters.

The day Misha doesn’t queerbait Destiel is the day you know aliens are real and they replaced Misha with a pod-man who finds the idea of Destiel as ridiculous as the rest of us do.

"He said a slur"

Come on dude, you know you should be saying "the f word and the h word" instead, it's not hard. I'm older than Misha and I've known for over 30 years you're not supposed to say the slur unless you're a member of the community with intent of ~reclaiming the slur (even though I think the idea of reclaiming is dumb).

"he was in a “foul mood”

As you said, this is a regular occurrence. It's his entitlement mentality problem that is partly due to his upbringing in a liberal elite education system that train their students to have contempt for the working class. Misha project this contempt toward his fans. When you're an entertainer, you work for the fans no matter the number, small or large. Musicians sing their hearts out whether they’re rocking in an arena or a club because they do it for the fans that showed up. Most actors struggle too much for me to condemn them for grabbing financial success when the opportunity arises, but they should be professional towards the fans, especially in a controlled setting.

Sidenote, this is what happens when you send a father-less child to an elite liberal private school, they become entitled and then angry when their entitlements don't pan out. Think of the Occupy movement in the U.S that was opposing the 1%-ers by activists who are the 2-5-ers% who want to become 1%-ers but unable and their attitudes were result of expanding university system that created a large class of disgruntled elite-wannabes chasing too few elite places in society (X).

#misha collins #supernatural #anti misha collins

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merakiui · 1 year

Note

MERA OML U WONT BELIEVE WHAT MY IMAGINATION DO TO ME—

YAN!BUTLER OCTA TRIO.

PLS PLS PLS IMAGINE OMLLL THEM ON BUTLER SUIT IS SO OFENDOSKDKDDKDNE

he’s your personal butler, whenever you go and he followed you, he served you nicely, and waking you up for duties just like a husband waking up his wife softly in the morning—but he can be the filthiest behind that nice gentleman mask.

NAHH I CAN IMAGINE THEY ACTUALLY HELPING YOU AND RAVISHED YOU WHERE YOUR BODY GOT SO ADDICTED AND CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIM FISNDIDJDI

OMG YES OTL

I feel like I must make the obligatory Jade is one hell of a butler joke, but it's true!!! He's so responsible, always following his schedule, never late by a second and never too early either. He wakes you up at the same time each morning, smiling so adoringly when you throw a pillow at him and beg for a few more minutes wrapped in the comforts of the fluffy duvet. He stands at your bedside, looming like a sentinel, and will wait the few minutes you've requested. Everything is so orderly and tidy under his watchful eye. He's the head butler for a reason, after all. He is always so polite, never overstepping his boundaries, but he certainly toes the line, especially when he's hit with a particular bout of envy. It's usually when suitors come looking for your hand in marriage. Most just want your fortune; they could never truly love you like he does, and late into midnight he'll show you just how much he treasures you.

Azul is also very responsible and respectful. He's ambitious for a butler, always wanting to do better and better so you will continue to praise him. He probably fits into the trope of servant who grew up alongside the aristocrat, thus making both childhood friends, and since his youth he's always admired you from afar. He devoted so much of his time and efforts to learning the ways of servitude so that when he was finally old enough to officially serve as your personal butler he would be absolutely perfect. He's charming, too. Has quite the silver tongue on him. Every word that falls from his mouth is like honey, so sweet and charismatic. He does everything without uttering a single complaint, always offering you his trademark smirk-grin. But you shouldn't be so trusting of him. The same loyal butler who ensures you always have a fresh vase of flowers at your bedside, who memorizes all of your preferences, who helps you get ready in the morning, is the same butler who may have mixed his cum into your food or served you an octopus dish that may have been made using one of his tentacles. :) don't question things; just let him serve you as he always does.

For all of his untamed capriciousness, Floyd is a wonderful butler. He's an excellent cook, too. All of your meals are prepared by his diligent hands, and he loves cooking for you, so much that he often makes too much food. Floyd likes it when you give him tasks and orders because it's something special you're entrusting him with. He serves you because he wants to, not because it's an obligation, and you treat him in the same friendly casual manner he treats you. He has the best Shrimpy in the world. You're so caring and understanding. You let him get away with his mischief because he's your dear, devoted butler. Although this is probably because he knows just how to touch you to have you coming undone, and you've gotten a little too accustomed to anticipating sex with him. He makes it his mission to take you in every room in your estate, on every surface, in every position. Even the outdoors is not safe from your lustful trysts. Floyd scares away all of your potential suitors (he's probably killed a few, too, or he's come awfully close), so it's just you and him. He's all you really need; you seem to echo this sentiment when he's buried so deeply inside you and you're clawing at his back, numb to rationality, slurring incoherent things. He likes articulate Shrimpy, but he also likes dumb, cock-drunk Shrimpy, too. Good thing he gets to experience both!

#twisted chit chat #yandere twst #thinking about butler octavinelle in an omegaverse au #they're all alphas and you're their omega master #omg maybe you're hard on them at times and you never flinch in the presence of so many alphas who could very easily subdue you #but then your heat hits you and oh does that change the trajectory of your relationship with them #or maybe it's that trope in which an omega grows up believing they're an alpha #until years later when their very delayed heat catches up to them #or it's the presence of an alpha that pushes them into their first truly insatiable heat >:)

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vidavalor · 6 months

Note

Hello! I trully love your metas ♥️

And I want to believe… but how do you match the fact that they have kissed (even fucked) for so many time with the only kiss we have seen which is so clumsly, so fist-time-type, and so turbovirgin?

Thank you!

Hi @margotmignard-blog Thank you and nice to meet you. :) Ok, this is for you and the few Anons who have sent me more or less the same Ask in the last 2 weeks or so as some of my posts have circulated a bit more so yeah, alright, I'll take it on. All of you please help yourself to hot chocolate and holiday M&Ms, even if you are making me think about Every again to write this lol.

Why do I think Crowley & Aziraphale are long-time lovers when Every is an awkward kiss? Because you know what looks just like clumsy, first-time kisses?

Old-married argument kisses of desperation when all other communication is failing that then wind up failing, too, that's what.

Two people kissing in distress is clumsy and messy no matter what stage of their relationship they're in and if they're upset and think the other is about to walk out the door and conflicted about opening up to the kiss because of the argument then all of that makes for a truly gut-wrenchingly awkward kiss. It didn't read as a first time kiss to me at all but I can understand how it might to someone.

I actually think that's the insanely evil genius of it lol. This show is such a bastard worth knowing, I tell ya. :) Right now, they have everyone being all "they need to have a better second kiss!" and just well... if you were them, wouldn't you want that? Would seem a good way to bury the surprise of an older kiss, wouldn't it? Would be a good way to sleight of hand some doubt into *checks notes* apparently everybody but me and a handful of others lol and so help to have everyone flailing again but for a better reason when they throw in an older, better kiss.

It's also a bolder move, both story-wise and performance-wise. Sadly, it's still a big deal that they've even kissed at all and it shouldn't be but, thankfully, it's becoming more common. In a way, though, that makes the fact that they made the first kiss you saw less than ideal a better choice and a better story.

Some more thoughts on this under the cut below that is beneath some gifs of these two who haven't apparently ever kissed before moments away from sex in the wall slam scene in S1... which is Every's parallel scene. By design. To illustrate a contrast. The first kiss we saw is a mirror of oh, just the start of some casual public sex that got interrupted by SatanicNun!Nina. Haven't we all had that relationship where we let someone throw us against a wall before we ever kissed? I mean...

Look at Aziraphale and his little 'getting up to some sexy trouble' smile here... does he not look like he knows *exactly* what he's asking for here and does Crowley not know what the request is and give it to him in a way that screams that this is not the first time? The tone here is a bit... You know, Crowley, I've always said I wanted to fuck in an empty broom closet in a former satanic nunnery and luck of the devil, you just kicked in a door and found one so you are sooooo nice throw me against the wall baby let's go... oh terrific of course this is exactly when the damn nun shows up oh well at least I can enjoy you slurring your S's in sexual frustration for now...

Good Omens throws something down and then gives you context for it later on that causes you to revisit what you thought when you initially watched it, right? They do this all the time. The scenes themselves always work fine on first viewing but they change and morph into a different scene when viewed with the added context the show gives you later. If you're writing a show in that way, you absolutely would make Every the first kiss you showed the audience... *especially* if it was in a cliffhanger-y season finale. Your Ask is exactly the reason why. You and I and a bonkers number of others are engaging with one another on the topic and we're engaging with the show as a result. Some of us are apparently willing to fight to the death insisting that Every is their first kiss. Some of us are like how you appear to be from your Ask, where you're willing to keep an open mind but you're leaning towards it was the first kiss. Some of us are like me and are feeling that, when all is said and done, they are building a relationship that is millennia old and that the show will wind up illustrating an entire history of it by its end and the idea that we have scenes out there already like Rome and The Globe Theatre and 1941 and Tadfield Manor but people think that they just kissed for the first time in 2023 is kind of head-scratching to me.

I've had people ask me how an ancient times vavoom would advance the story and I've answered in other meta how I think it would but I have an ask back for you all: how, honestly, would 2.06 being their first kiss advance the story? They've written characters who have had a relationship of some form with one another since before the Garden of Eden and have shown us that story throughout different points in time. S3 is going to be, at best, set a couple of years out from S2 and is probably set a lot sooner than that, so we're going to end their story sometime before 2026 on their timeline, probably... and the first kiss was in 2023? When you have the opportunity to write an entire millennia-old romantic relationship with all of its highs and lows and show it in the flashbacks and how they inform the relationship in the present? Because that story is already there. That's the story I see watching this and have since the first time I watched it. I'm frankly kinda floored by the number of people who insist that it's their first kiss, especially two seasons into the show. The same show that gave you this before it gave you The Blitz, Part 2?

I got accidentally spoiled for Every like a lot of people and when I saw Crowley's glasses on, I had the feeling that it was probably going to be a terrible kiss. I was hoping that it wasn't the only kiss in the season but when 2.05 finished without it showing up yet, it became obvious that it was going to be a big thing in the finale (hahaha oh God, remember when we didn't know? simpler times lol) and that meant that it was likely the only kiss in the season and while it ripped my heart out like it did everyone else, I never saw it as a first kiss for a second.

If you've been with somebody for a long time and, like everyone else, you have your disagreements and your things to work through but you tend to be the kind of couple where you can always or almost always rely on a baseline of physical communication that helps you express what you feel for one another-- which is a wordy way of saying 'when you've been with someone forever and the sex is amazing' lol-- maybe the worst thing that can happen between you is if that feels like it's falling apart, too. That's what I see in that kiss and, in particular, Aziraphale's reaction to it.

It's not 'turbo-virgin', in an unfamiliar with kissing way, imo-- it's a situation causing conflict for Aziraphale over whether or not he wants to give into the kiss. We've all seen it from every damn angle by now lol. We see him unable to not give in, just a little. He kisses Crowley back a bit. He touches his shoulder and his side. He doesn't pull away because he just can't, really, because he never really wants to not be kissing Crowley, but he also can't just give in because that's the situation that Crowley's set up by kissing him the way he did. Crowley wants him to run away with him and that's not a solution to any of this, either, and everything is a total mess and if Aziraphale just gives in and opens up more and really kisses Crowley, he's saying yes to just running off with him and they can't. There's really nowhere to go.

Even with all of that, he still can't resist kissing Crowley a bit and touching him because Crowley and because what he really wants is for them to be literally anywhere else, somewhere safe away from all of it, without having to worry about Heaven & Hell, but they aren't and he can't pretend that they are. That'd be even crueler, really, to really kiss Crowley and then still go to Heaven, right?

It's not a first kiss and at a bad time panic-- it's oh God, I think we broke it. It's the heartbreak of suddenly being in this place together where they aren't communicating well on any level and that going past having a verbal disagreement and into the pain of having an absolutely brutally bad kiss with someone with whom you've had countless passionate ones and the terror that it might be the last one and you're never going to feel any of that again.

That's happened to them before.

It's the brutal 1862 scene. Aziraphale in 1862's comment about The Agreement is the most embittered you won't touch me anymore thing ever. They've gone from The Arrangement in their looser, flirtier Globe Theatre era to now what Aziraphale calls The Agreement in 1862. The difference between an arrangement and an agreement is basically where the future is concerned. An agreement is, well, an agreement lol but it tends to be more formal, more restrained, while an arrangement is an agreement that contains more of a view to the future. It's a plan. You agree to meet up but you arrange how, basically. They don't have The Arrangement in 1862 anymore, they have The Agreement and it sounds like the exact fucking opposite of The Arrangement. The Agreement is "stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed," according to Aziraphale.

Read that again: "Stay out of each other's way. Lend a hand, as needed." See a problem here? If we're just talking about helping each other out with work assignments then this literally just doesn't make any sense at all as how can you both stay out of each other's way but lend a hand as needed? It's one or the other. It can't be both. It's "stay out of each other's way" when it comes to work assignments. It's "lend a hand, as needed" in their love life and Aziraphale is bitter as all holy fuck about it. They're barely having sex anymore.

That scene in 1862 actually also parallels part of the scene that contains Every. Funny how alike "we have a lot in common, you and me" sounds to what Crowley says in 2.06, isn't it? Dude has got to stop asking for holy water or to run away when they're both a mess-- it not working lol.

The point is that they've been together a long time and they've also both experienced a lot of trauma. They've have times where miscommunications snowballed and it felt broken beyond repair but it's not and it's not because they love each other and they eventually figure it out. That's part of the pain of Every, though, because what happened after Crowley came back from Hell in 1827 was bad and it took a long time to get to a better place with it but they did and better than before and then this kiss that they think could wind up being their last is a complete disaster straight out of the mid-1800s on top of the fact that they're in what feels like in the moment irreversible disagreement.

It's a painful kiss. It hurts to watch. It's supposed to. Not because they've never kissed before but because they've kissed a trillion times and this is by far the worst of the lot.

And these bastards decided it was the first one we should see lol. It's okay, though. These are coming soon, in the past and present:

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens s2 #aziracrow #good omens 2

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olderthannetfic · 2 months

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Hello.

So I'm a little new to lgbt+ and the labels people choose for themselves. I saw a post talking about how "bihet is wrong, it's biphobic and bi erasure". Since I never heard it before I did some searching. I saw people calling themselves bihet bc they were: bisexual hetroramtic, biromantic heterosexual and both bisexual and heterosexual at the same time. There were also people who called the previous labels worthless, unnecessary and called those who used them straight and biphob. And I understand that bihet can be used as a slur, but shouldn't we also accept that some labels can have more than one meaning? Idk, it just seems valid for me if someone wants to use bihet for themselves. But since I'm new as I said I wanted to know your opinion.

I guess if people want to use that label, they can. I've only ever seen it thrown around as "You're not really queer because you're in an apparently hetero marriage, you traitor!"

To me, it seems like an odd one to try to reclaim since it's primarily an insult used by other queer people, and the usual meaning is more about passing and about your current relationship than about split attraction.

Compare to slurs used by outsiders that are more about treating our actual identities as a bad thing. Those feel more reclaimable to me.

Anyway, using 'bihet' for yourself isn't biphobic. I'd find it confusing and wouldn't know what you mean, but I wouldn't assume you're self-hating.

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thelikesoffinn · 2 years

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Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable.

This boy needed help. He needed someone to show him that life was not just pain and suffering, that there was more once you break through years of abuse.

And I'm not talking as a sappy fan here, but as a licensed social worker.

Without a doubt, this bitch would have been my favourite client. He already IS my favourite client.

Now, would it be hard to work with him?

Fuck yeah.

He would Rebel against anything I say, he would try to intimidate me and keep me far away, he would most definitely be rude as fuck and make fun of most things that leave my mouth. And he would flip his shit hard whenever I touch any subject he doesn't want to talk about.

On bad days, days where he was beaten and abused again, he would be an absolute menace. He would probably throw chairs and tables around, start fist fights with the other kids in my group and just be a proper pain in my arse.

So yes, Billy hargrove would be difficult. Especially in the beginning.

But that's what abused kids do.

They want you to stay the fuck away from them. Because all they know is pain. They've been hurt so much, that they can't believe it's not normal. That not every one is out to hurt them. Because people don't care for them. They don't care about them.

Social workers are "in it for the money" anyway. They don't give a shit, much less about them. Much less about kids like Billy.

Good things don't happen to them.

Good people don't just stumble into their lives.

Because nothing good ever does.

But you know what kids like Billy also do? What I've seen so many times at my job, working with troubled youths?

I've seen kids like Billy Hargrove beam at compliments. At genuine compliments, compliments that aren't used to get them to do something. They dead arse break a grin so wide it blinds you, despite not wanting to.

I've seen them get glassy eyes when you welcome them and tell them you're happy to see them around. Because they feel appreciated, like them being there is a good thing.

I've seen them slowly opening up, once they realise that I'm not going anywhere and that I, in fact, actually care about their well being.

I've seen them go all soft and huggy because they crave warmth and kindness. They crave what they never get at home.

I've seen kids have fun, fun that they've never been allowed to have at home. They are the older siblings, the only providers. They carry responsibilities the shouldn't have to carry at home. But with my colleagues and I, they don't. They can be themselves and have fun. Being silly, being young and being genuinely happy because they are allowed to be.

Just imagine Billy breaking an involuntary grin because you tell him how neat his camaro looks, all clean and shiny today.

Imagine him getting flustered when you tell him how nice it is to have him back with the group while you pass along some sweets or whatever.

Respect and responsibility? My arse. Everyone get the waterballoons, we'll have a fight. And we all know Billy would hold back at first, pretend it's stupid, before ambition hits and the kid tries to be the last dry one standing. he's laughing with the other kids, dripping wet by the end of it. And he enjoys it massively.

How he suddenly allows other people to pat his back, hug him or bump his hips. How he actually starts liking it, touch starved as the boy likely is.

Now imagine Billy Hargroves face once he realises that he doesn't have to scare people away because whatever his dad taught him was bullshit. That he really doesn't need to repeat any of the homophobic or racist slurs Neil threw around ever again because he doesn't believe them anyway.

So yes, Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable. He was not. He was a boy that needed work, definitely, but he was far FAR from being a lost cause.

Billy was just a poor eighteen year old boy that needed warmth and softness. That needed a chance to learn that people cared, truly cared, about him like no one in fucking Hawkins ever did. Not his father, not Susan, not Max.

Billy needed one person who understood him, cared for him and taught him that life was more than pain and suffering.

And its fucking bullshit that he never got to meet that person because killing him was easier.

No, he was not irredeemable and everyone who says he was just chooses the easy road. Because seeing and accepting layers is so much harder than saying he's a piece of shit, am I right?

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy stranger things #billy needs a hug #billy needs help #get my boy a social worker #fuck neil hargrove #billy x platonic!reader #billy hargrove appreciation #justice for billy hargrove #billy x reader #last one is just for the attention #a penny for my thoughts #billy hargrove cuddles #we love our boy

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