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#it is rather funny though that so many of the questions asked about the movie are literally about loki though
thankskenpenders · 6 months
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And now for something new
So, here's something I was never planning on doing, but I just couldn't shake the idea... Thanks Ken Penders is gaining a sister blog featuring an entirely different comic franchise!
Introducing... Thanks Steve Ditko, a blog where I read the Earth-616 Spider-Man comics, starting all the way back in the '60s! It's gonna be much more casual and less thorough than how I run things here on TKP, though, which I'll explain in a sec.
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If seeing me post weird bits from old Spider-Man comics sounds fun and you need no further info, then just head right on over to Thanks Steve Ditko. But for longtime TKP readers, I know you probably have questions...
Number one: Why?
Spider-Man's always been my favorite superhero, and with the Spider-Verse movies kicking ass and my excitement building for the new Insomniac game, I've been in a Spidey mood. Inevitably, a thought occurred to me: Maybe I should actually read the comics that everything else is built off of and see the wildly varying contributions of all the original creators, rather than filtering them through big budget adaptations. If I can power through One Piece and all these other manga with hundreds of chapters, it can't be that hard... right?
And, well, after a few issues I quickly realized that my options were to either clog up my other accounts with random Spider-Man panels for years, or to just make a side blog. And so the side blog was born.
Two: Will this blog replace Thanks Ken Penders?
NO!!!!!!!!!
Okay but prove it
To allow the two to exist side-by-side, Thanks Steve Ditko will have a different format than what Thanks Ken Penders developed. Rather than an in-depth guided tour that critically analyzes every story beat of every issue, TSD will just be a place for amusing panels and brief thoughts as I casually read the comics at my own pace.
If you've seen me make a few tweets about reading Spider-Man recently, I'm basically just moving that to a dedicated Tumblr. It's a place for me to dump these things so that it doesn't fill up my media tab on Twitter for the next decade. (You know, assuming Twitter is still around in a decade.) There will be many issues where I only post two panels that I thought were funny. There will be issues where I don't have anything to say at all. Maybe I'll reach a run that I just cannot get into, and I start skipping around more. Who knows!
This may sound similar to what I thought this blog would be before it blew up. Aside from the simple fact that there's already mountains of Spider-Man commentary out there and therefore less of a void for me to fill, one of the main steps I'll be taking to avoid repeating the past is not enabling an ask box on TSD. I do not need people to ask me to go into ten times more detail on everything. I do not need to write seven essay-length responses to questions about Spider-Man minutiae every day. I do not need a place for people to chide me for not covering certain scenes, issues, or ancillary series.
It also won't have any kind of update schedule. I'm trying to keep it very casual. I'm reading these comics at my own pace, and if I feel like sharing a moment or commenting on something while doing so? It goes there. That's it.
(On the subject of format changes, I'm also listing the issue, writer, and penciller in the body of every post. This is a thing I wish I'd done on TKP so that people didn't misattribute every weird Archie Sonic panel I post to Penders.)
Three: So when will TKP come back from hiatus? You said it'd come back after you finished SLARPG!
I don't know! Sorry. I have a couple things on the backburner right now for TKP, but I'm not sure when I'll get back to proper updates where I read more comics.
I wanted to bring TKP back this year, and that's still possible. The main hurdle is that I want to reread my own archive (again) as a refresher, which is, uh. A lot of posts. I've developed a high standard for myself on here, and I feel like I wouldn't be doing my job right if I forgot half the ongoing subplots and character arcs and didn't bring them up in my analysis. Especially when I'm discussing the work of an author as obsessed with continuity as Ian Flynn. Unfortunately, the nature of this blog means that every time I go on another long hiatus for Life Reasons I have even more comic continuity to catch up on than last time.
(This is a big part of why I'm making Thanks Steve Ditko an extremely casual blog instead of promising to become a Lore Expert on 60+ years of Marvel.)
Mostly I've just been very burnt out this year after having finally finished a video game that took almost eight years to make. I haven't really had the energy for any creative projects, including TKP. But I feel a little bit of a spark here with Spider-Man, so I'm chasing that feeling to try to get back into the swing of blogging about comics - no pun intended.
So, basically, bear with me on this as I start this low-energy side project. But hopefully folks will enjoy Thanks Steve Ditko as its own thing, too.
Look forward to goofy shit like this
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eliluvschan · 2 months
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Guess the Girl :)
pairing: bang chan x reader
word count: 1.486
warnings: lots of fluff
genre: fluff
a/n: did y’all see the way this man teases Stay on ‘FANS’ ? there’s no way he wouldn’t be the same announcing his girlfriend 😩
Chan’s pov.
“baby!” i called my girlfriend’s attention. she’s my girlfriend of like, four months. and we both really like each other. my parents love her, and her’s love me. the company likes her and so do the boys. so we’re all good.
but the thing is, my fans don’t know yet. they’ve been getting very curious about it, though. i mean, i can only go to so many movies with the others, or alone. and since Y/n was a Stay herself, and i met her at a concert. not at a meet & greet.
i just saw an angelic, beautiful face in the crowd with the most happy, honest eyes- a lot of them are gonna be shocked. some might like us, some may not, and some may even send hate. i’m just worried about the last part.
“yeah?” she looked at me from above her phone in her hands, pausing the TikTok she was watching.
“i think i’m ready to tell Stay about us. what do you think?” i asked her, speaking slowly. i need her opinion for sure. what if she doesn’t want to tell them now? what if she wants to wait a little longer?
“it’s all up to you Channie. remember what Jyp pd님 said?” she smiled. okay, only my opinion matters now.
“you sure?” i asked.
“yep.” she confirmed.
“so we can’t just throw it in their faces, can we?”
“what do you mean?” she asked, looking rather like she was about to burst out laughing.
“i mean, i can’t just post a picture of us and go ‘hey y’all, this is Y/n. my girlfriend. we’ve been going out for four months and we really like each other’ .”
she let out a small laugh. “why not?” she asked.
“well, because one, i’m the creative one here, and i feel like playing a little game with them!” i said, leaning back in my seat as a hundred ways to tease them crossed my mind. i actually feel like teasing them, which i do most of the time during Chan’s room.
“i’ve got an idea!” i exclaimed and jumped up.
“what?” she put her phone away.
“let’s make them guess who you are!” i smiled brightly. she gave me a questioning look. i sat back down.
“look. we post a picture of us together, but maybe conceal half of your gorgeous face.” she blushed here. “or take a picture only showing one side of your face or something like that.” i continued. “should be fun?”
she leaned back and gave me a half smile. “okay.”
i smiled back and took my phone to open Instagram.
i took a photo Y/n took of me and shared it to my story.
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i smirked as notifications started rolling in.
“well, i see the fandom’s got something to be eager about now.” she chuckled, scrolling down her own profile. i shook my head, half in disbelief at questions people dm’ed me and half in amusement.
“yep. now we need help.”
—❀—
“Jagiya! you ready?” i asked Y/n excitedly. she put her hair up in a bun and pulled her hood on her head. then she checked herself out in the mirror- can i just say she is the prettiest thing i ever set eyes on?
she smiled happily and followed me outside where Hyunjin stood ready with his phone. he will post a picture of us, in a discussed position.
“positions.” he commanded, in a professional photographer style. pabo.
but we did as he told us to. Y/n got up on a little stone pole and threw her arms around my neck. both of us had put on our hoods.
“got it!” Hyunjin shouted as he took the picture.
we went back inside and got comfortable around the kitchen. Chan and i were laughing, at the reactions he was getting.
@/hynjinnnn
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@/hynjinnnn Channie hyung and …Someone ;) #GuessTheGirl
hilarious. i opened my Instagram and liked the photo.
then to tease Stay a bit more, i decided to share a photo on my story.
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“very funny, Mr. Bang.” she said.
“what?” i laughed. she gave me an ‘not funny’ look and i stopped and pouted. she giggled and pecked my lips, as i smiled at her.
“next?” she asked. “tomorrow.” i told her. she nodded and disappeared outside.
next pose. what should it be? tease them? go easy on them?
i woke up and got ready for the day. after shoving down some breakfast, i drove over to Y/n’s place to pick her up. i haven’t asked her to move in with me yet, but soon i will.
“hey baby!” she greeted me as she hugged me tightly.
“hey. i missed you.” i kissed her forehead. “missed you too.” she smiled. we had a little nose-fight and then we proceeded to her lounge. i spent the day at her house, cuddling, watching movies, goofing around, and then for dinner, i took her back to our dorm.
guess the girl, picture two, goes up tonight.
“hey guys.” Seungmin smiled at us as he saw us on the couch. she was actually on my lap and quickly got off. she’s still shy around the guys.
i pulled her back on and kissed her softly. “ew.” i heard Hyunjin and then heard the guys leave. she smiled kn the kiss. i pulled away. she smiled, her eyes shining. i nuzzled my face in her neck, and we spent another few minutes in each other’s company.
“Seung! picture time!” i yelled over my shoulder.
“be right there!” he called back. and only minutes later he was there, ready with his phone.
i picked Y/n up and threw her over my shoulder. but instead of keeping her like that, i put my head between her legs. Y/n made a flying motion with her arms as she laughed. her hair was in a bun and her face was slightly blurry so it wasn’t clear.
“all done guys.” Seungmin said as he took the picture. i put Y/n back on hr feet and together we looked at the photo Seungmin took of us.
@/miniverse.__
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@/miniverse.__ Chan hyung’s girlfriend is honestly the sweetest person alive ;) you guys are gonna love her. #GuessTheGirl!
i chuckled, as my notifications blew up. i scrolled through them and stopped at one. someone’s got the answer right. someone named Da-eun.
“hey, do you know someone named Da-eun?” i asked. she nodded and right at that moment, she took out her phone. “oh yeah. Eun guessed it.” she said, showing me her dm’s.
‘is that you with Chan? OMG! OMG! OMG! why didn’t you tell me?! i’m so happy for you both!!!’
“should i tell her?” she asked.
i nodded. she smiled and began to type. minutes later, a few others guessed as well.
then suddenly a notification from Changbin popped up.
@/jutdwae
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@/jutdwae grossest couple ever. #Don’tGuessTheGirl :P
he took a photo of us while we were laying in bed, her face surrounded by her hair. looked like it was taken a few days ago.
then Lix had tagged both me and Changbin.
@/yong.lixx
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@/yong.lixx shut up Changbin. #GuessTheGirl
and with that, a picture of me spinning her around when we went ice skating. it was taken a few weeks ago. she wore my beanie and let her hair loose so you wouldn’t see her face.
after Lix’s post, i shared another photo to my story.
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then came a notification from Jeongin.
@/i.2.n.8
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@/i.2.n.8 these two are so in love, it makes me sick 🤮
i checked my timeline and most people had guessed right.
“Channie?”
“hmm?” i looked up.
“just tell them already.” she said.
i laughed and shook my head.
“why not?” Y/n asked.
“well, i don’t feel like it yet, and it’s so fun to see them making wild guesses.” i said.
“but they’ve guessed.” she said waving her phone in my face.
“everyone?” i asked, sitting up.
“mostly everyone i know, yes.”
“okay.” i sighed. “that was quick. i was hoping to tease them more.”
she rolled her eyes.
@/gnabnahc
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@/gnabnahc if you guessed @/yourname you guessed right! well played ;) #GuessTheGirl
“really, baby?”
i laughed. “what?”
“i told them. the guessed who my girl is. you.” i said, putting my arms around her neck and kissing her cheek.
“i love you.” she mumbled into my shirt. did i hear that right?
“w- what?” why the hell am i stuttering?
“i love you.” she repeated.
“i- i love you too ba- baby girl.” i said, and felt my cheeks burn. what is happening to me?
“you do?”
“you guessed right, too!”
~
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maochira · 8 months
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the dads being forced to wear all pink to go watch the barbie movies with their kid LMAO and it trends on social media everywhere that’d be funny 😭💀
I'm taking every chance I get to let dad Ego suffer <3
Characters: Ego, Noa, Chris, Lavinho, Snuffy
Requests open! - masterlist
Tags: gn!reader, reader is a teenager, this is for the sillies, no Barbie movie spoilers
Ego
-it already took a while to convince him to see the movie with you, but when you tell him he has to wear something pink he looks at you as if you just said the most insane thing he's ever heard
-his immediate answer is no. And that remains his answer for a while, no matter how many times you ask
-the day before you're seeing the movie he finally gives in. He doesn't own anything pink, though. That means he has to go shopping for new clothes first
-he's still not a fan of wearing pink at all but at least it makes you happy. Don't expect him to ever wear that again, though
-of course someone sees him and then it's all over social media. It makes him want to disappear from the earth forever but you're having the time of your life about it
Noa
-he doesn't mind watching the movie with you, but he didn't expect you to ask him to wear something pink for it
-he refuses at first, but when you ask for the third time he can't say no to you anymore
-at first, he thought he would hate it, but he quickly realized he doesn't mind wearing all pink for that one occasion at all
-plus, you got a matching outfit anyways and Noa thinks it's cute!!
-it's kinda funny to see him with his cold and tired expression being dressed in all pink
-he met a bunch of fans at the cinema and they were having as much of a blast as you about seeing your father in his pink outfit
-he feels extremely embarrassed every time he comes across the pictures on social media and there are even some articles about him seeing the movie with you
Chris
-he immediately said yes when you asked him to see the movie. And when you ask if he will wear something pink, he looks at you in disbelief
-is that really a question needed to ask? Of course he will wear pink. Wearing anything else isn't even an option. He's surprised you felt the need to ask that in the first place
-sometimes it seems as if he's more excited to see the movie than you are because he's walking through the house singing Barbie Girl because it keeps getting stuck in his head at least five times a day
-also expect to hear no other music other than the Barbie movie soundtrack after you've seen the movie with him. Chris will play it in the car and at home at any chance he gets
-he absolutely loves that the pictures of him at the movie go viral. He's super happy about it!!
Lavinho
-he was actually the one who asked you to see the movie because he already knew you would ask him at some point
-he's a little hesitant about wearing all pink at first, but he quickly gives in because he can't say no to anything you ask for (he loves to spoil you)
-at first, he kinda feels as if the colour doesn't fit him, but the longer he wears the outfit the more he loves it
-he starts loving it even more when he finds out the pictures he posted of him wearing that outfit are trending all over social media!! He's happy other people seem to like it as well
-but of course, he's way happier about the great time he had with you seeing the movie!! (he did bawl his eyes out at least two times though)
Snuffy
-when you asked him to see the movie with you he was a little confused. He thought you'd rather see it with friends instead of with him. But he's also happy you asked!
-he didn't want to wear all pink at first, though.
-you convinced him literally everyone else at the cinema will wear pink and it would be weird if he didn't, so he gave in and agreed to an all-pink outfit
-he tries to not feel embarrassed when pictures of him start trending on social media. He doesn't want to feel ashamed because he was just having a great time with you. But every time he comes across the pictures he does feel a bit embarrassed because they're EVERYWHERE all over the internet
Taglist (sign-up link): @kaineedstherapy12 @gojosorrygeto @luvcalico @truegoist @st4rcheese @acacIa @kermitslefteyeball11 @futuristicxie @bluelock4life @blueberrryui @https-archangel @userwithlotsoftime @nikokii @chaosinanutshell @mang05 @astruosie @zyuuuu @vanitasbrainrot @toruden @mafuyudonutt @weichspuelertrinker @depressed-bitchy-demon @kaiserkisser @yellowelectroslime @orah-s @deerangle3 @slowlyholypeanut
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robthegoodfellow · 6 months
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No Romeo, But He’s My Loving One-Man Show
Mirror Sex, Roleplaying for Days 9/10 of @harringrovekinktober additional incidental praise kink, edging, fledgling D/s dynamic, cum play, slight feminization
(roommates, kink experimentation, billy is a femme fatale but really just a very good boy, nsfw)
Handy Links to Previous Chapters: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
Steve had expected Robin to have some pointed feedback after coming over for dinner and a horror movie—a longstanding tradition Billy had inducted himself into a couple days post move-in by rescuing the pizza from a crispy demise because someone forgot to set a timer—but when Steve met her for coffee later that week, all she talked about was the mirrors.
Why are there so many? Why are there more every time I visit? Do you know how many years of bad luck you’re risking? That old one with the fancy frame is definitely cursed—I saw something moving in it. No, it wasn’t us—something else. Like, out of the corner of my eye. It’s haunted, Steve—you should get rid of it. Don’t break it, though, whatever you do.
Finally, after much redirection and pointed questioning, she’d given her assessment on the Billy situation, specifically how Billy seemed to feel about Steve, from an outside perspective. 
Mostly you both seemed normal, aside from sneaking looks at each other constantly. But even that’s normal, in a way. Her eyes narrowed. Is that why so many mirrors? More opportunity for sneaky looks?
Which—what? No. That wasn’t why—though he’d be lying if he said he’d never… But what did she even mean, that even that’s normal?
Well, like when we watch movies and something funny happens, you always look at Billy to see his reaction. And when the special effects are corny, he always looks at you and rolls his eyes. And when we’re all three hanging out, half the time it’s you and me trading knowing looks from inside jokes, and half the time it’s you and him. So, like—the looking isn’t new, I just caught you guys doing it without the other realizing it. Like a bunch of times.
Rather than deny it, Steve found himself asking, pathetically, how Billy looked. When Billy looked at him.
Like this, Robin said, and made the biggest, dopiest cow eyes, complete with dreamy sigh, reverent tilt of the chin. 
Steve told her to fuck off, but couldn’t repress the grin splitting his idiot face, and Robin cackled.
Ask the haunted mirror, if you don’t believe me! It’ll totally back me up.
.
It’s not like they’d planned to make the apartment a fun-house mirror maze, but after the divorce, Steve’s mom went a little nuts selling off stuff from the Hawkins place, all of which was apparently unsuitable for her townhouse in Chicago, and when his dad made a stink about her disposing of hideous heirlooms intended for Steve, she’d promised to forward their son the remainder.
Which was how he ended up with the couch, complete with decorative throw pillows, and… about six ornate mirrors of varying unreasonable size. And sure, he could’ve sold them himself, because his dad didn’t actually give a shit, but then he’d sorta grown used to them, and Billy had never complained, so… yeah. Made the place feel bigger, or whatever.
Over time, the arrangement had shifted here and there—except for the one in Steve’s room over the dresser, the one in the bathroom over the sink—anyway, however it happened, Steve had noticed, one day, that he’d subconsciously mastered where to position himself throughout the sitting room to see a reflection of the kitchen, the bathroom corridor, and… Billy’s room, if the door was open—and, these days, it usually was.
Did he feel like a creep? Well, yes and no. Yes in that he was aware he should feel like a creep, and therefore did, and no in that he was almost certain Billy knew he was watching and didn’t care. Not only didn’t care, but… liked it. 
After his conversation with Robin, though, he threw all subtly to the wind, staring fixedly at Billy’s reflection as he puttered around in the kitchen, as he left the bathroom, as he lounged in bed reading a book… silently daring Billy to call him out on it, until Billy did.
“Feel like a bug under glass,” he called, turning a page. “You gonna pin me down?”
Humming, Steve resettled against the arm of the couch, didn’t bother turning—just kept admiring him in the mirror leaning against the wall, almost floor to ceiling. The bedside lamp cast warm shadows, limning his hair in gold. Steve wondered if Billy got tired, holding the book above his face like that. 
“I was thinking more like a spy tailing a mark.”
Billy laughed—a short bark of sound. One of Steve’s favorites. “Be dead so fast—made in seconds.”
“You saying I’m more Get Smart than Napoleon Solo?”
“Dunno,” Billy mused, thoughtful. Rolling, he made a pillow of his arms, crossed over the closed book. Leveled Steve a filthy smirk. “If you were 007, I could be your Bond Girl.”
That got Steve to turn around, meet his gaze direct, then cooed, all sympathy: “You wanna be tied up, babe, just ask.”
Billy bit the inside of his cheek, unwillingly amused, so Steve dialed up the cheesy charm.
“C’mon, that was good—Bond Girl? Like bond—”
“I got it,” Billy drawled, levering himself up only to flop against his piled pillows in supposed disgust, book cast aside. “Just call me Pussy Galore.”
“Dick Galore.”
Billy frowned. “Randy Galore?”
“A Bond Boy would have to be Randy Something,” Steve acknowledged. “Or… Something Hancock.”
They paused, then, in unison: “Randy Hancock.”
“And I, James Bondage, am tailing you,” Steve went on, as Billy snickered. “And haven’t been made, because I’m an experienced, accomplished spy—”
“Yeah, yeah, fine.” With a final snort, Billy folded his arms behind his head, semi-reclined, and pondered the ceiling, unfocused. “What next?”
Steve mimicked him, only on the couch, back to watching Billy’s reflection. “I use my handy spy-glass to peer around corners, and I catch you unawares—getting ready for bed.” Billy hummed, polite interest, and waited for more. So Steve gave him more, mind whirring, pulse already on the rise. “I watch you take off your shirt.”
Absently, only shifting enough to complete the action, Billy peeled his shirt off. Dropped it on the floor.
“Then your jeans.”
Those required a more aggressive shimmy, but soon they joined the discarded shirt.
“And then I can’t stop—can’t look away. Like I’m glued to the sight.” Steve’s throat clicked as he swallowed, trailing his palm down his stomach—indulged in a firm rub. “So pretty, spread out on the bed.”
On cue, Billy spread, thighs parting to reveal white briefs, the cotton worn thin, pink showing through where his bulge stretched the fabric. Sighing, a lazy hand skated south, fingers brushing the waistband. Slipped under, but no further. The fingers seemed to press—stalling the hips, an aborted twitch.
“Shit.” Steve wagged his head, corralling what remained of his wits. “I—uh, I figure…” He chuckled, let one heel drop off the couch to rest on the floor, his hand working a steady rhythm. “Figure I’ll learn what you like, use it to seduce you later. Learn how you like to touch yourself—”
Billy grunted, lashes stuttering as he shoved past the elastic, made a fist around the handful. Spoke soft, musing: “Haven’t, you know.”
“What?”
“Haven’t been—touching myself.” Eyes still on the ceiling, Billy’s lips quirked, just as soft. “Not without permission.”
That landed like a punch, loosing a long, meandering moan: “Baby.”
And the baby blues drifted down, met a reverent stare in the mirror. “Yeah?” So innocent, solicitous.
Steve rolled his hips into his palm, arching clear off the cushion. “I like that.” 
Billy’s head lolled sideways, downcast—bashful as he squirmed, bulky knuckles straining the front of his briefs. 
“My good boy,” Steve murmured. And he meant it with every fiber of his being: “Show me what feels good.”
His eyes fluttered closed. The hand slowed. “You.”
Simultaneous hits—to the heart and the heat low in his gut. A vicious press brought himself back under control.
“God—killing me.” Could barely huff it, all of him locked on the hand that had tugged free of clinging briefs to caress the red weeping cock, featherlight, through damp cotton. Steve’s pulse pounded so loud in his ears he more saw it than heard it—pink lips shaping You. You. You.
As though hypnotized, clumsy because he was so hard it fucking hurt, even sweatpants chafing awful against skin throbbing tender, Steve stumbled to the bedroom door—caught himself on the frame, panting, light-headed from the sudden vertical, essential bloodflow coursing elsewhere.
Billy choked off a whine, fisted the coverlet to either side, legs splayed as his spine bowed, sank back. “Please.”
In a blink, Steve was at the foot of the bed, crawling to him, over him, hips forcing Billy’s legs wide. “I got you.” Long, dragging grind, the rub exquisite. “I got you.”
The moan vibrated through Billy’s flushed chest. He hadn’t let go of the bedding—wouldn’t, Steve realized, winded anew. He wouldn’t let go unless Steve told him to.
“How long?” Steve panted, reaching down to rub Billy with the flat of his palm through the briefs, this jerking, gentle pressure that worked him piecemeal to the peak, a maddening build. “How long you been waiting for permission, baby?”
“Luh—” Billy coughed, swallowing spit. “Long.”
“So good,” Steve crooned. “I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”
The flush had spread up his neck to his cheeks, temples pulsing red. He was nodding, mindless.  “‘Kay.”
“All right.” Steve brushed the bulbous crown with a teasing thumb. “Tummy or panties?”
Muffled throaty sound—like he’d been stabbed. Delivered on a whimper: “Panties.”
Steve resumed his kneading rub, coaxing, fine tremors wracking the body at his mercy. “One day I’m gonna get you a nice pair. Maybe something with lace?”
Billy gulped, trembling nod.
“Lace for your pretty cock, a thong for that pretty ass?”
Half-lidded, head craned back, lip bitten raw between his teeth, Billy shivered.
“Make a mess in your panties,” Steve whispered, bending low. “And I’ll make a mess in them, too.”
A burst of guttural gasps, almost hiccups, borderline sob, and he convulsed beneath Steve’s hand, sticky wet seeping through the fabric.
Steve dropped a good boy with every kiss—on cheek, neck, sternum. Lifting up on his knees, he brought out his own cock, stripping it with a loose fist.
Half-boneless, Billy hooked lazy fingers in the back of his briefs, tugging them past the curve of his butt, the front pulled snug against his spent dick, and rolled onto his stomach. Arched, presenting himself, bare ass exposed, and Steve found his groove between plush cheeks, rutting with enough force that he could feel his cockhead rub against that tight hole.
It didn’t take long—short pumps, short of breath—brutish grunt as he finished, coating the pert cheeks in ropes of slick, deploying one hand to catch runaway drips, pet the clenching hole with wet fingertips, tease the entrance.
Billy cut off a whine, squirming, grinding into his own mess, pushing into the pressure behind.
“Soon,” Steve promised. “I’ll give it to you soon.”
An unspooling sigh, and Billy went limp, face turned away.
Planting a kiss at the base of a shoulder blade, Steve drew up the back of Billy’s briefs, smoothing a hand over the sodden fabric—with a wave of heat, imagined the trail of his come oozing toward the taint.
Shifting, Steve curled up along Billy’s side, nose to nose, arm looped around his sloping back.
Billy blinked, placid, as Steve drew a lock of hair away from his eyes.
“Ruined it,” he mumbled, mouth quirked. “The spy scene.” 
“Nah,” Steve said. “A good spy knows when to change plans on the fly—switch it up.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah.” Warming to the idea: “What happened was—I realized I could offer you what you needed. In exchange for what I needed.”
Billy’s gaze was lulling as a lake in moonlight. “What did I need?”
Steve let a smile twitch, nerves singing. “Me.”
An echoing twitch. Lids lowered, a hitch in his tone: “And… what did you need?”
Steve dipped near, heart in his throat. “You.”
Billy hummed, a short burst trapped behind teeth. He nudged close, and Steve’s eyes slid shut.
Press of lips, lingering soft, on the edge of his chin.
.
“Steve?”
They’d been drifting awhile, lying flush, occasional brush of roving hands, warm gusts of breath. Belatedly, Steve hummed, enquiring.
“Itchy.”
He snorted, stretching like a lazy dog. Shower didn’t sound half bad, but there was something else he’d been wanting to try.
“How about a bath?”
Brows raised, pensive duck lips. Steve called his bluff—bowled him over, rough nuzzle, and hauled him upright.
.
Now with added next chapter: What He Does, He Does So Well
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overleftdown · 3 months
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farleigh analysis PART 3, because i might as well do the entire movie at this point. i'm locked in. this is going to cover the early-saltburn summer era. AKA, oliver's once in a lifetime, hand job on a haybale, golden big boy summer. everything after venetia and oliver's sex scene is in another post on my blog. this one is pretty short.
[0:34:42] (they're watching superbad. teehee.)
farleigh looks borderline revolted in the background of this shot, which is so funny to me. superbad is, in my opinion, notoriously rude. the comedy is hollow, childish, homophobic, etc. even seth rogan admits that the movie is tone deaf and aged horribly. that's neither here nor there, though. all i'm saying is that i can't imagine farleigh would enjoy the movie as a queer person.
[0:35:19] elsbeth: is that right, he had to put his fingers down his mother's throat to make her sick? farleigh: yeah. felix: farleigh, that's private stuff! farleigh: well, you told us. felix: in confidence!
when elsbeth initially asks the question, she's looking directly at farleigh. yet, when felix confronts farleigh about discussing private matters, farleigh responds with "well, you told us." meaning the family, i assume. felix had no issue with elsbeth and pamela discussing oliver's home life until farleigh was very moderately involved. it's odd to me. and yes, felix is the one that told them. moral superiority, or something. having someone to blame, even when you enabled their gossiping in the first place.
[0:35:34] elsbeth: we should give him the most wonderful time! farleigh: good luck, he doesn't smile much. elsbeth: farleigh seems to think he's ghastly. why are you friends with him, darling?
really, you can tell that elsbeth likes farleigh. she respects his opinion to a certain extent. i also talked about the tutor scene in part 2, and how i consider the "style over substance" debate a metaphorical parallel to farleigh over oliver. here, farleigh once again points out the style of oliver's social interactions: he doesn't smile much. when you look at this from a social and... neurotypical perspective, lacking a smile during conversation can mean a lot of negative things. farleigh seems to have a dedicated focus on arbitrary social expectations, largely because he has to.
[0:35:33] farleigh: and here he is now! we were just talking about you. elsbeth: don't be silly! farleigh, you just make up the most awful things. of course we weren't!
once again, in traditional catton fashion, farleigh is scolded for saying doing something that contrasts the cattons saviorism. obviously oliver knew they were talking about them. i can't blame elsbeth for attempting to backtrack, but "farleigh, you just make up the most awful things" is a weirdly unnecessary throat punch. she's stepping on farleigh to appear taller, if you will. at 0:36:34, when elsbeth asks oliver to sit by her, farleigh looks so exceptionally irritated. he rolls his eyes, looks back towards his computer, and sighs dramatically. wonderful. he's so sick and tired.
[0:37:20] elsbeth: i've lost so many friends to addiction. so, so many dear, dear friends. it's the root of poor pamela's horrors too, i'm afraid. farleigh: and the only interesting thing about her. elsbeth: farleigh! no, she is rather dull, actually. but she's so beautiful. you have to admit, she's very beautiful.
elsbeth and her obsession with physical appearances. once again, style over substance. and her outrage at farleigh refusing to soften the blow on his statements, before following it with her own (albeit less crude) dig at pamela. style over substance. wouldn't it a little uncanny, a little scary, to be the only person of color in a household that places physical appearance on such a high pedestal? especially a household as ignorant as the cattons. that's just conjecture, though. oliver has the ability to manipulate a space for himself in the family without sacrificing any of the qualities he began with. he never really smiles more, throughout the summer. he never really loses his signature awkwardness, his imposing energy.
[0:40:05] elsbeth: you know we're delighted to have you for however long it is you mean to stay. farleigh: forever...? pamela: oh, no. i think i might have, erm, found somewhere. elsbeth: oh, well done, darling! james: oh, good!
right after james says "good," you can see farleigh turning to look at him. prompting james to drop the hatchet on pamela's prolonged stay at saltburn, i'm assumng. this is what's interesting to me, i think. again, farleigh lacks the drive to play the same game as oliver. farleigh doesn't want to nurture the charitable actions of the cattons. farleigh believes the other guests at saltburn take up the space that he would otherwise fill. just like at oxford, when felix is sitting with someone else, farleigh is discarded. when elsbeth invited oliver to sit next to her, farleigh looks annoyed. the cattons capacity for attention and kindness is depressingly small. farleigh isn't playing chess, he's trying to win by sheer survival of the fittest.
for the next few, brief scene of farleigh and oliver interacting, oliver repeatedly proves that he does his research. i can't get over it, to be honest. neither can farleigh; if looks could kill, oliver would've been dead within 10 minutes of arriving at saltburn. the methods farleigh and oliver uses to remain relevant in the catton catalogue are so wildly different. farleigh, who uses his personality and social skills to keep the cattons entertained and charmed by him. i'm sure he loves to gossip with elsbeth, wine and dines with venetia, and he clearly does everything in his power to stay glued to felix's side throughout the school year. this is someone who has never considered manipulating the cattons; he just wants to be one of them, and he wants it to be easy. can you blame him?
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nervousgardenerkid · 2 years
Text
Are we friends or are we more?
a/n: omg hey yall it's been a while lol! i got the title name from a one direction song ugh i miss them,,anyways this piece took me FOREVER cause my life has been a silly little roller coaster🥳i ended up combining two of my besties requests cause i thought it would be so cuTE!! i hope u guys enjoy it and credit to the gif owner! <3
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Growing up with Steve has been nothing but an adventure. Steve Harrington has been your best friend the second your dad got a promotion at his new job and moved you and your mom into the new neighborhood. He watched with wide eyes and a big smile as you jumped out of the car and ran to the front door of the house.
“Hi!” he shouted and waved.
You turn around and face the small boy and wave back.
“I'm Steve! I live next door!” he panted out while running over to you.
“I'm y/n! This is my new house!”
“Yeah, old man Walt used to live here,” Steve said while kicking a rock around. “He was mean and always kept my balls if they went over the fence.”
You gasped and turned to your mom who was helping unload the truck.
“Mommy! Can I go to the backyard with Steve and look for his toys?”
“As long as you don't get your dress dirty honey, play nice!”
As cliche as it sounds, the rest was history. Steve and you stayed attached to the hip ever since that very day. Although he was growing, Steve never really changed. He kept his boyish charm and still told his not-so-funny jokes. The only thing that really changed about Steve was his reputation and his looks, and god was he nice to look at. You'd never admit it but a part of you always thought you and Steve would end up together. The both of you would watch countless movies about the boy falling in love with the girl next door, you'd expected something to happen as time went on, but Steve never made a move.
The older you two got, the more blurry the lines of friendship got for you two. Maybe it's because the older both of you got, the more thoughts you'd have about each other. Steve would never act on his thoughts, the furthest he's gone with you is sharing a bed from the many sleepovers you guys had.
“Do you ever think about me?” The time was currently 1:07 and even though everyone was asleep, you still found yourself whispering.
“I think about you all the time.” He's telling the truth.
“Not like that…I mean romantically.”
Your heart was pounding out of your chest right now. You know you shouldn’t have asked him this, Nancy just broke his heart a month ago but you have to know.
“Oh.”
It was a simple response, but it was enough to break your heart just a little bit.
Steve never answered you that night, but he wanted to. Steve has thought of you romantically ever since you set foot into your backyard with him and helped him find the balls old man Walt kept from him. Of course, he wasn't going to say anything about it though cause he'd rather not fuck up the one good thing in his life. You began to distance yourself after that little situation, nothing too bad. You just drive yourself from school and give him a small smile in the halls instead of greeting him.
“What is wrong with me Robin?! Why did I even ask that?” You asked while hiding your head in your locker. Robin lets out a hum and fixes her hair in the mirror you have hanging in there.
“You are the most cliche case I've ever heard of.” She chuckles out.
“Cliche or not I shouldn’t have put him on full blast like that.” You close your locker, ignoring the whine Robin lets out.
“Y/n, you didn't put him on blast. You just asked a simple question! If I was in your shoes and had someone treat me like that I’d want to clear the air too.”
You pouted at her. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”
She smiles at you. “And cause Steve is taking Stacy on a date tonight.”
-
Your heart is pounding, matching the rhythm of your hands slamming onto the door. You stop again checking your watch, biting down on your bottom lip. It was currently 9:55 and Steve took Stacy out around seven. Now, you haven't been on a date in a hot second, but they don't usually last this long, right? His car is parked in the driveway which means he's home. You sigh and lift your hand up to knock again but Steve swings the door open. The first thing you notice is him rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, then you see the bruise that's forming on his neck. You see how they fall to his chest and you realize Steve is shirtless.
“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He asked while yawning.
“You're shirtless.” you mutter. You've seen Steve shirtless before, but this is different. The way the moonlight shines on him makes him look ethereal.
Steve chuckles and shakes his head. “Eyes are up here sweetheart.”
Your eyes shoot to his face thinking you'd snap out of your daze but you just get worse. Steve still looks half asleep and his hair is sticking up in awkward places. You restrain yourself from reaching out to fix and clear your throat, you're putting your heart on the line right now and to say you're terrified is an understatement.
“Steve?” a voice breaks out. Your eyes fall to wherever the voice came from and you let out a breathy laugh. Stacy is standing in the middle of the stairs with Steve's shirt over her small frame.
“Stacy’s here.” You say, not taking your eyes off of her.
“Uh, yeah,” he turns to face her. “Go back to bed babe, I'll be there soon.”
She doesn't listen, instead, she leans against the railing glaring at you, almost as if she dares you to finish what you were about to say. Steve rolls his eyes and turns his attention back to you.
“Everything okay?”
No, but you nod your head and take a deep breath.
“I uh, I remembered you had my sweater here. Just wanted it back.”
Steve furrows his brows. “You came all the way here at,” his hand reached for your wrist looking at the watch you wore. “Ten o'clock just to get a sweater?”
You laugh. “Yeah, it was stupid. Very stupid.” you wipe away a tear that managed to escape and Steve stands a little straighter.
“Hey, it's okay I can grab it-”
“No, it's fine. I should…I should go.”
Steve’s shoulders slump and he nods his head. He feels uneasy but he's not sure why.
“Okay. I’ll see you later?”
You nod your head. “Bye Steve.”
-
That was the last time you talked to Steve. Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and before you knew it you and Steve were complete strangers. You'd run into him when Mrs. Henderson asked you to watch Dustin, every time Steve saw you it was like he saw a ghost. He’d try and talk to you but you'd either just walk off in the other direction, or you'd give him a quick goodbye only to have another awkward interaction next time he was with Dustin.
“Did you and Steve have a thing?” Dustin asked as you parked your car in the mall parking lot. You reach into the back grabbing the dreaded scoops ahoy hat.
“What? No! Why did he say something?”
Dustin shrugs his shoulders. “He talks about how he misses you…hey did you know he got a new job?”
You step out of the car and make a face. “Where?”
Dustin follows you out of the car and glances at you.
“Uh, nowhere important.”
You pin your nametag to the brightly colored shirt you have and stop in your tracks.
“Where, Dustin?”
Dustin stumbles over his words, hands flailing in every direction possible as everything finally clicks.
“Please tell me it's not at scoops…”
“Okay, it's not at scoops.”
You open the door for Dustin rolling your eyes at his answer.
“You're a shitty liar.”
Dustin shrugs his shoulders and walks into the busy mall with you.
“Are you going to miss me when I go to science camp?”
“If that's what you want to call it, sure.”
Dustin glared at you, causing you to chuckle and shake his head around a bit.
“‘Course I’ll miss you, Dustin. Now, go find your demon friends.”
Dustin thanked you for the ride and ran towards his friends who were waving at him. You quickly make your way to work, smiling at Robin when you see her behind the counter.
“There's my fellow sailor!” she laughed out. You led out a sarcastic laugh and clocked in.
“You'll never believe what I found out.”
She let out a hum and leaned against the counter. “Let me guess, Steve works here now?”
“How does everyone know except me?!”
Robin laughs and holds up his name tag. She tosses it to you, takes a sample spoon, and dips it into the strawberry ice cream.
“He starts training tomorrow.”
You let out a groan and set the name tag aside.
“I'm working tomorrow!”
“I know, lovers will be reunited- hey!”
You snatched the small spoon out of her mouth and tossed it into the trash can.
“We are not lovers!”
“Well not yet but-”
“Not ever, I stopped talking to him for a reason.”
Robin rolled her eyes. “Well, I don’t think he's stopped talking to you.”
You narrowed your eyes at her and smiled when you heard customers walk in.
“You have customers.”
“I hate you.”
You blew her a kiss and let out a laugh when you saw her catch it and throw it into the trash.
“Ahoy sailors, what can I get for you today?”
-
You fight the urge to let out a groan as you rest your head on the counter. Why did you decide to go to a party knowing you had an early shift? You're not sure, all you know is the Advil is wearing off and the customers won't stop talking.
“Hey, are you okay?” Steve asks while glancing at you.
You shook your head and let out a groan. Working with Steve has been…eventful. When you had to train him for work, it was a bit awkward in the beginning but soon Steve’s charm won you over once again. Although there were still a few awkward moments shared between you two, it wasn't as bad as it used to be. “Remind me to never go to a party ever again,” you mumble while walking into the back. Steve furrows his brows and follows you.
“Party? You hate parties.”
“No, I used to hate parties, now I somewhat enjoy them.”
Steve makes a face and it's one you can't read. You know he hasn't been to too many parties ever since he's lost his king Steve title to Billy.
“How much did you drink last night?”
“Enough for me to regret it the next day,” you said with a smile. You took a seat at the small table and massaged your temples.
“What made you drink that much?” Steve asked while taking a seat across from you. You let out a chuckle.
“Since when does anyone need a reason to drink?”
He shrugs his shoulders. “Not like you to drink.”
“You act as if you know me, Steve.”
“I used to.”
A dry chuckle leaves your lips. “Yeah, used to being the keywords.”
Steve leans forward and rests his arms on the table.
“Why’d you stop talking to me?”
Time felt like it froze when you stared into his eyes.
“What?”
Steve opened his mouth ready to ask again when Robin burst through the door.
“I got you some more Advil!”
You smile at her and practically snatch the bottle out of her hand. She stops you from opening the bottle before handing you a bottle of Gatorade.
“You're an absolute angel robin.”
She shakes her head and chuckles at you.
“Did you go to the party too Robin?”
“Yeah, it was pretty fun.”
Steve’s eyes widen. “Why wasn't I invited?!”
“Cool people only,” you said with a wink and stood from your spot.
“Steve you have customers upfront.”
“What? But my lunch is happening-”
Robin shushed him and put a hand up to her ear. “You hear that? Sounds like customers asking for you.”
Steve rolls his eyes muttering how she owes him an extra ten minutes for his break. Robin rushes him out and makes sure the window is closed before turning to you.
“How much do you remember from last night?”
You give her a confused look and think about it. You don't remember as much as you'd like to, but you also didn't black out until the end of the night.
“Uh, last I remembered was playing beer pong with you? Why?”
Robin let out a nervous giggle. “No reason…no reason at all. Do you remember, oh I don't know, kissing someone?”
You shake your head drinking your water.
“You kissed billy.”
You let out a gasp making the water go down the wrong pipe, which made you start to choke and gasp. Water dripped from your chin down to your uniform as robin smacked your back. Steve slides the window open and looks at you in shock.
“Jesus Christ, what happened?!”
“Uh, she just drank too fast. Yes. Yes, that's what happened, right y/n?!”
Your coughs die down a bit and you give Steve a thumbs up. He looks at you for another second before slowly closing the window.
“Billy Hargrove?!” You whisper shouted at her.
“No, Billy Idol. Of course Billy Hargrove!”
You stand still for a moment trying to come up with a plan. It shouldn't be that hard to avoid Billy, you avoided Steve for what? A year almost? You'll be fine with Billy! You don't even see him on a regular basis, what are the chances you'll bump into him again?
“Hey, can I go to lunch now?” Steve asks while coming back into the break room. You pat his shoulder and nod your head.
“Yeah, I'm gonna head out when you come back though.”
You make your way out to the front and stop dead in your tracks when you see a familiar set of red curls in front of you.
“You are one hard girl to track down y/n.” He said with a smirk.
Fuck.
“Billy! W-what are you doing here?”
He leans against the counter, the smirk on his face sitting beautifully.
“It's a hot day for Hawkins, thought I’d come by before work to cool off.”
Work, Billy was a lifeguard at the pool and you feel your cheeks heat when an image of him shirtless flashes across your mind. He's such a shitty person, why did he have to be so hot? You let out a nervous chuckle.
“Well, guess you came to the right place.”
“That I did.” his eyes look at you up and down and he chuckles. “Cute uniform.”
“What do you want billy?” you sigh out.
He points down at the Rocky Road ice cream. You let out a sigh and grab the scooper before you put the ice cream on the cone.
“What are you doing Friday?”
You roll your eyes, handing him the ice cream, and mutter out that you're working.
“Ditch it.”
“I can't just ditch work Billy.”
He licks the ice cream and winks at you.
“Oh c’mon, I'll make it worth your while.”
You let out an awkward chuckle. Although Billy is very good-looking, he's also the scum of the earth. You hate how he treats Max and you hate how he treats girls like they're toys. Not to mention the way Max talks about how he treats Lucas, one of the sweetest kids you know.
“How about this,” he started. “Just, think about it. Friday, I'll come swing by and if you're in your work uniform I’ll leave you alone.”
You nod your head liking where this is going.
“But, if you happen to be in regular clothes, then I'll just so happen to be sitting in that booth waiting for you.”
He backed away from the counter sending you a wink before he turns around and shouts think about it, darling. You're left frozen to your spot as you watch Billy walk off to wherever he was going.
“What the fuck was that?” Robin chuckled from behind the open window.
“I think I just got asked out?”
Steve was shaking his head. “No. Absolutely not.”
You turn around and face him. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean there's no way Billy Hargrove just asked you out.”
You let out a scoff and Robin adds a tally mark under you suck for Steve. His eyes widen and he backtracks.
“Not like that! I mean, you're pretty, of course, he's going to ask you out. I just meant there's no way you're going.”
“Okay, dad. Since when do you tell me what to do?”
Steve is fumbling over his words and Robin is trying not to laugh as she adds another tally.
“Have you ever been on a date?”
“I've been on dates!”
“Name one.”
You open your mouth only to quickly close it as you let out a scoff.
“I'm not doing this-”
“Let me take you out!”
Silence falls over the small shop and you grab your bag from under the counter.
“What are you talking about?”
“You know, like dinner and stuff. Maybe we can watch a movie too.” Steve said with a smile.
“You want to take me on a date?”
Steve’s cheeks heat up and he clears his throat.
“A practice date! You know…for practice.”
You nod your head and point to the exit.
“I'm gonna go now.”
You walk out of the shop, rolling your eyes when Steve says he’ll pick you up tomorrow after his shift. He let out a groan and took the hat off of his head to run his hands through his hair.
“Aaaaand,” Robin drags out. “Another one bites the dust!” she says while adding another tally mark.
-
A content sigh leaves your lips as you sit on the couch flipping through the channels. You knew you weren't going to pay attention to whatever show you landed on, but background noise was nice for a nap. A smile makes its way onto your face as you begin to relax and sink into the sofa, then you hear three knocks on your door. You shrug your shoulders thinking it's those door-to-door salesmen but then you hear his voice calling out for you.
“Y/n? I know you're home, I can see your car.”
Confused, you stand up and make your way to the door.
“Steve?”
“Jesus, is this how you dress for a date?”
Your eyes fall to the flowers he's holding and you feel your cheeks begin to heat.
“I didn't know you were serious.”
“‘Course I was serious.”
You look down at your comfy clothes and clear your throat.
“Do you want to come in?”
Steve smiles at you and nods his head. You step to the side, opening the door a bit wider to let him in. He steps inside and looks around the house, a smile appearing when he sees a picture of you two on Halloween.
“Your mom still has this picture?”
“Yeah, she misses you.”
He gives you a sad smile. “Yeah, I miss her too.”
He looks down at the flowers letting out a soft oh. “These are for you.”
You smile and grab the flowers, ignoring Steve's lingering and brushing against yours.
“Thank you, they're beautiful,” you say while smelling the pretty red roses.
“Hey, can you put them in a vase for me? I need to change.”
Steve nods his head and walks into the kitchen.
“Vases in the same cabinet?”
You shout out yes as you make your way into your room. You close the door gently and stand in the middle of your room, your heart beating rapidly. What the fuck were you supposed to wear? You had no idea if Steve had something casual planned or if he was seriously taking you somewhere nice. You search through your closet and drawers trying to find something nice but also casual. You close your eyes trying to think back to what Steve was wearing. Despite it being warm out, he had on a yellow sweater paired with his favorite jeans.
“Casual,” you whispered to yourself. “Okay, I can do casual.”
Minutes go by and Steve is thankful that he remembers the way to your bedroom. He gives it a small knock and opens the door when he hears you telling him to come in.
“Hey I don't mean to rush but we might miss- woah.”
Steve’s mouth is slightly open as he looks at you. He doesn't know why he's so blown away, he's seen you wear this outfit so many times. It's literally just shorts paired with a red blouse that's tucked into your shorts.
“What? Do I need to change or something?” you ask while tying your shoes.
“No! I mean, no. You look fine.”
“Awe, thanks Stevie you're too kind.”
Steve is too distracted by the all-too-familiar nickname you called him by to even notice you walking out of your room. He follows close behind you, stopping you when he sees you grabbing your purse.
“You didn't need that.”
“Are you sure? That means you'll have to carry my house key.”
He shakes his head and jingles his keys.
“I still have the house key your mom gave me. We're all set for today.”
You shrug your shoulders and walk out the door, making sure Steve locks it. He walks you to his car, opening the passenger door for you. Once you're both in the car he starts it up and lowers the radio a bit.
“So where are you taking me?”
“I'm so glad you asked that.” He pulls out a blindfold and smiles at you. “It's a surprise.”
“Steve, no! I hate surprises!”
She shrugs his shoulders and hands you the blindfold waving his hand in front of your face to make sure you don't see anything.
“You better not kill me, Harrington.” you mutter under your breath.
“Darn, you just ruined date night.”
-
The car ride was surprisingly fun even though you couldn't see anything. Steve had a mixtape of all your favorite songs and you both shouted the lyrics as if your lives depended on it. When you felt the car park you clapped your hands.
“Are we here?”
“Yup, this is the part where I kill you.”
You let out a sarcastic laugh and roll your eyes from under the blindfold.
“Stay here, I'll get the door for you.” Steve closes his door and jogs over to your side, grabbing your hand and helping you out of the car.
“Okay, there's a small hole there. Watch your step, okay now take a big one- not that big babe.”
“Can I take my blindfold off now?”
“Wait,” Steve said. You hear some shuffling around and then a sigh.
“Okay, now.”
You quickly take off the blindfold and let out a gasp. Your hands quickly cover your mouth as you recognize the familiar area you're in.
“How did you-”
“Oh c’mon, did you really think I’d forget our hideout area?”
You did. Steve would come tap on your window when his parents arguing would keep him up. One day, you both decided to take a walk, you weren't sure where you two were going but when you both came across the empty field things suddenly felt right. Steve didn't care that his parents argued almost every day, and you didn't care about the stresses of life. You remember nudging Steve with your elbow, muttering how he was it, and running away from him.
You look down and see a picnic blanket laid out for you as well as a basket.
“You did not.”
“Oh, but I did. See, this is a date!”
Steve sat on the blanket, tugging your hand down so that you could join him.
“I packed our favorites! Hopefully, you still like my mom’s strawberry lemonade.” he said while pulling out a small container.
And just like that, it felt like everything was back to normal. Steve finally felt accomplished as everything was falling back into place.
“So, I hate to ruin the mood,” he said while dusting his hands off. “But you never answered my question.”
You tilted your head to the side, confusion written on your face. “What question?”
“Why'd you stop talking to me after that night?”
Your posture stiffens and you play with your shoelaces not daring to look at him. You shrug your shoulders at his question.
“You're a shit liar.” he chuckled out while shaking his head.
“It's not even important Steve-”
“No, it is important. You're like…my everything. It was hard being without you.”
“You seemed fine to me.”
Steve is surprised at how fast his happiness has been replaced with frustration.
“None of that was real! I wasn't happy, okay? I got dumped by my girlfriend, and my friends were assholes who probably just used me and my house for parties. I needed you and you just,” he takes a deep breath trying to fight the stinging behind his eyes. “You left me. Like I meant nothing.”
Silence fell over the two of you.
“Please say something,” Steve whispered.
You sigh and look up at him. “This was a fun date. Thank you, almost made me think it was real.”
-
The car ride was a tense and silent one, not even the mixtape he made could lighten the mood. Steve parks the car in front of your house and you both sit there for a moment.
“Are we ever going to go back to normal?” he asks you quietly.
“Nothing about us was normal Steve. We were best friends who…held hands, cuddled in the same bed, and had late-night talks.”
“All friends do that.”
You chuckle and turn to look at him. “You cuddle Robin?”
“What? No-”
“Exactly.” You place your hand on his and lean over to kiss his cheek. “Thank you for tonight Steve.”
You exit the car stopping in front of your front door when you slowly make your way back to the car.
“I left my keys.”
A chuckle leaves his lips as he turns off the car and steps out to walk you to your door.
“Good night Steve-”
“I love you.”
“Steve-”
“No. It's my turn to talk. Well, I've been talking all night but that's not the point.” he takes a deep breath and wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans.
“I love you, a-and I know you probably don't believe me right now. Especially cause we haven't talked in a while but y/n, I love you.”
“Steve, I-”
“I know you won't feel the same way, I get that but I can wait. I don't care how long-”
You take a step forward, placing both hands on his face.
“You talk way too much, Steve Harrington.”
“I mean it.”
“I know.”
You never realized how close Steve was. His forehead was resting against yours and his eyes were closed as if he was trying to savor this moment.
“Do you know what I was going to tell you that night? The night you had Stacy over?”
He shakes his head no.
“I've been in love with you ever since I helped you find your stupid toys in my backyard.”
His eyes open slowly and a smile graces his beautiful features.
“Really?”
You nod your head and start to lean in.
“Really.”
“Steve! There you are, did you forget I was going to help you study?” Nancy said while stomping over to him. You slowly begin to pull away from Steve thinking that he was going to go back to Nancy before he spoke up.
“I told you I don't need help in English anymore!”
“How’s your history grade?”
“....bad.”
Nancy smiles at you and waves.
“NANCY STOP! THEY WERE GOING TO KISS!” Mike shouted from Nancy’s car.
An awkward chuckle left you as you waved at him.
“Hi, Mike!”
“Hi y/n!”
You turn your attention back to Steve and Nancy. His head is hung low while she scolds him about how he needs to take school more seriously. Once she's done with that she gives you a small wave while telling Mike to jump back into the backseat.
“So,” Steve said with a smile. “Where were we?”
You giggle and let out a gasp. “I need to tell Billy I can't go on that date with him after all.”
Steve scrunches his nose and brings you into his arms while peppering kisses along your neck.
“Don't worry. I'll make sure he gets the memo.”
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imthursdaysyme · 9 months
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are you cuban? or not white in anyway? otherwise its really really weird for you to racebend white characters lol. it comes across performative (and a but fetish-y). why not draw the canon characters of colour? (also making the canonical drug dealer character latino is a bad look)
So, there are many things I want to say about this. I want to give an answer that isn't my instinctive response of "fuck you and i hope you shit your pants in your sleep", so I will attempt to address these questions and concerns.
I do find it funny that you sent another anonymous ask pretty much saying the same thing, because apparently, I didn't reply to your ask fast enough. For context, it is; "there are white cubans so do you enjoy cuban culture and think steve would fit in well with that? in that case you don't need to brownface a white character. or do you just want to fetishize hispanic cubans? also its really weird to make the only drug dealer character latino i mean come on......".
So first things first. No, I am not Cuban, but I am part Native American and was raised around primarily Hispanic people my entire life due to where I lived.
Second. I find it grossly performative for you to send this ask telling me not to headcanon a character a different race. I think this type of activism is extremist and unfounded in actual ideas or beliefs other than your need to feel 'better than' or superior to others.
In regard to fetishism, I would like to mention first to people that are not you, that fetishism of people of color is rampant and highly uncomfortable. It is seen recently with the new character of Miguel in the animated movie "Across The Spiderverse".
But back to the subject at hand, which happens to be my art of Steve Harrington, I want to ask where in all of my art is there fetish content? Are there multiple drawings or comments focusing on his looks? How hot I think he is? Personally, I don't see that.
I notice that in today's culture, people tend to throw around new words they learned to use as an end-all-be-all. Their winning card up their sleeve. But it's not, because you don't even use the word correctly. To make note of what fetishism is, I'll put the definitions below.
: an object or bodily part whose real or fantasied presence is psychologically necessary for sexual gratification and that is an object of fixation to the extent that it may interfere with complete sexual expression
or: an object of irrational reverence or obsessive devotion
To take these definitions we find that first, it is a topic for sexual gratification. And in my art, I'm personally not seeing anything sexual come into play. Sure, I put him in crop tops and short shorts. But I do that because I feel it fits his character regardless of race because of his personality and the time they were living in. I personally wear crop tops and don't set out to be sexualized, so if you see it in that way, I fear we may be encroaching on what I consider a "you problem".
Third, on you speculating on why I can't just keep Steve Harrington white as he is in canon. In multiple places, I do in fact mention that I am not drawing canon. I'm drawing headcanons. Headcanons, described by the dictionary, is "something that a fan imagines to be true about a character even though no information supporting that belief is spelled out in the text." So, this ask isn't quite viable seeing that I have never said I was drawing the canon version of Steve Harrington.
Fourth, you mention that I "brownface". I fear that you may also be the person that had a dry broom handle fucked up their ass when the new Ariel movie came out.
Fifth, you say that my half-Latino Eddie Munson is "a bad look". To this, I find it interesting that your first connection was drug dealing alongside a Latino character. Personally, I didn't take drug dealing into consideration. And rather a funny headcanon I saw of someone saying Latino Wayne Munson would cook peppers to "smoke" Eddie and his friends out of the house. And again, as someone who was raised primarily by Hispanic influence, my mother did the exact same thing. If you decide that every Latino character is based on stereotypes, then live your life that way, but don't tell me what is and isn't a bad look, seeing that you are the only person who has a problem with it.
Sixth, you ask why I don't just draw the canon characters of color. I will. I have sketches of them. But since you obviously have looked through my art, you might notice that I only really draw the older teens. They are my favorite to talk about and draw.
On that, Isn't it interesting that there are only three people of color in the show? Two are siblings, and one is a side character introduced in the last published season. This is why I add people of color into my headcanons. I find, that if I can do whatever I want with a personal interpretation of a character, I am going to add diversity where I can.
I think it's important as a culture of fans that produce new content over a piece of media, to fix, change, and do what the original writers didn't. We see this commonly in sexuality headcanons because there aren't that many canon lgbtq+ characters. Typically, fan-given content adds minority or oppressed groups that the original creators did not give. Because frankly, people of color deserve to see themselves in the media. Lgbtq+ people deserve to see themselves in the media. If we continue to stay true to canon exactly with all of our fan spaces, we would be found boring, repetitive, and stale. The idea of fan spaces is to take canon and expand it. To have fun with it and to add ideas and quirks to the characters that other people can relate to where they once could not.
I will not apologize for getting bored of every character being white. I will not change what I am doing either. Because I am not doing anything wrong, moral, or unjust in any way. I think the main problem comes with you finding so much hate with a silly drawing of Steve Harrington simply because he isn't white. So I wonder why you find him and Eddie not being white so concerning.
I hope this helps.
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blueberrypancakesworld · 10 months
Note
Hey bae, I've enjoyed your lords of chaos fics so far and I really liked the hcs and I just wanted to ask you could make one for necrobutcher? He was so fine in the movie but no one ever talks about him :)
Hello anon happy that you enjoyed my works so far. Pretty cute in the movie but the only voice of reason. So I hope and everyone else likes this little story and as always have fun readinf :)
It's over
warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, mention of suicide
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masterlist
Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
°The two of you actually met in the supermarket one day. You wanted to buy something for you and your flatmate, who didn't really have anything any more. Almost the same was true for Necrobutcher the bass player and member of Mayhem he was still something like the voice of reason.
°Just as she was going to the section with the muesli and other packaged foods, she saw a black-haired young man. From then on, the two of you got into a conversation, or rather, he made the first move. A bad joke, a little laugh and a question about what all the patches on his jacket were for.
°There was a spark between the dark mysterious basist and the simple medical student. Which is why he not only wrote her number on her hand, but also lied her into the next rehearsal of Mayhem in the dried-out hut.
°She would be lying if she didn't find him attractive. There was something about him that was slightly mysterious, funny, realistic and, from what she had heard, not as evil as the news described all those statists. Which is why she went to the cottage at the weekend.
°When she arrived and went into the old hut, she quickly realised that it had seen better days. ,,Hey, Y/n, come with me, I'll show you the others!" he called cheerfully from the kelelr and wrapped her in a hug before they went downstairs. There she met the rest of the band from mayhem - nice but somehow strange people.
°Sitting down on the floor, she watched the band animatedly. Even though the music wasn't really her cup of tea at first, she soon felt herself swaying and humming along to the lyrics and cheering the band on. Before she pulled Necrobutcher into her arms, slightly embarrassed, and praised him.
°Staying with the band throughout the day, a small partx took place in the evening, where she not only had fun but also sat on the couch with the black-haired man and watched a film to ignore the noise from outside. He had his arm around her and she had her head on his shoulder. A cute moment that ended the evening with them kissing. The first kiss of many that night the two somehow ended up in a relationship.
°She quickly realised how sensitive, emotional and devoted he was. He listened to her problems, hugged her, kissed her and was there for her. He was indeed the most socially normal of mayhem and understood her worries that one day something might happen. Even though they both supported each other.
°But the day came when it would happen. The suicide of Dead and Euroynmou's exaggeration. He had gone too far and exploited his friend's death just for the sake of success. That same day, she got a call from Necrobutcher from a phone box who was more than upset and asked her to pick him up because his bike had a flat.
°As soon as she got into her car and drove off, she was worried. It was bound to happen sometime, she thought bitterly and sadly, before stopping at the phone box a few minutes later and getting out. She held the distraught and almost tearful Necrobutcher in her arms for a moment. She just held him and he mumbled and apologised for something he couldn't do.
°Then they loaded the fahard into the car and drove to him, as his family was not there at the moment anyway. Sitting down together on the couch, he rested his head on her lap and was quiet. But she was also quiet and just stroked his head. ,,It's going to be all right...they're gone, you don't have to go there any more," she said and only saw the brief nod. A moment later he sat down and wrapped her in a grateful kiss and held her hand. ,,Thank you for everything," he murmured and put his hand on her cheek.
°Not knowing that the past would catch up with them both. The suicide was only the beginning, then Faust's murder of the gay man and finally Varg's murder of euronymous. It was terrible, and yet the two survived the time together. They moved in together, helped each other and lived normal, free lives as best they could. Knowing that the horror had only made them both stronger.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
@mayhem-things , @bvg-w1res , @beldamama
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lutiaslayton · 6 months
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Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva
PART 07
〚FIRST〛〚PREV〛〚NEXT〛
Disclaimer: This is a fan-translation for the Japan-exclusive novellisation of the movie Professor Layton and the Eternal Diva. The original novel was written by Aya Matsui under the supervision of Akihiro Hino, and belongs to Level-5.
This translation only aims to be a pleasant read for non-Japanese fans, nothing more: I made a few deliberate changes while translating in order to get the writing style closer to what is usually found in English fanfictions, as the Japanese storytelling can sometimes be different than what we are used to.
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* The Eternal Life Puzzle-Solving Game
Once I had changed out of the Queen’s costume, I sat in front of the mirror and stared intently at the face in front of me.
I was finally about to meet Professor Layton.
Is that alright with you, Janice?
As I was speaking in my mind, I gently stroke the pendant.
What could I possibly tell the professor, and how…? This question had been turning in my head many times, under every angle, but this thought had to stop going in circles.
It was going to be alright. I just had to calm down, and be natural. The professor was going to help. If anyone could solve the mystery behind eternal life, it would be him.
Still. This was making me more nervous than the usual stage fright I would experience before singing.
Maybe this was a different play altogether for me to act on; and most likely the last one…
I smiled at the mirror, trying to cheer myself up. Seeing the smile of Janice Quatlane, looking at me from the other side of the mirror, gave me great strength.
I finally felt calm.
The curtain had now just been raised.
I’m coming, Professor Layton.
I stood up, left the backstage, and headed for the main hall.
I could hear the sound of the Detragan in the distance. Mr Whistler… was playing.
The sadness that his music was conveying infected me as well. When he had experienced the loss of a loved one, the power of his grief caused every note he played to take on the colour of tears. I wondered if he was aware of this…
But then, his performance was interrupted. What happened?
Soon, angry voices resonated instead.
“This is no time to play music!”
“We’re all trapped in this theatre—well, in this ship now!”
“Mr Whistler, you wrote this opera. Did you also orchestrate all of this?”
A familiar voice eventually responded:
“This opera was a request. That is all…”
I quickened my pace and stepped into the scene. And then, a certain silhouette came into my view, accompanied with that of a little pretty boy in a blue hat. It was him…
He was wearing a familiar top hat and jacket. With his gentle gaze, he truly was a gentleman, more than anyone else.
I was filled with such relief that I called out to him without thinking.
“Professor Layton!”
His head slowly turned towards me. The same gentle smile that had been shining in his eyes spread across his face. This was the professor’s smile…
“Janice!”
…and this was the professor’s voice. I missed him…
It was rather odd that I would think that way now, though.
“I’m sorry I got you involved in this, Professor. I never thought that something like this would happen…”
“Don’t apologise. It is the duty of a gentleman to help a lady in need.”
I was startled for a moment… then I giggled.
The ‘duty of a gentleman.’ It was well known amongst the students of Gressenheller that Professor Layton had this habit of saying this kind of funny thing.
And him talking about ‘helping a lady in need’ without any hesitation made him sound so chivalrous, too. Could there be a single woman not happy to be told such a thing?
The tension I had been feeling up until now was completely blown away.
“Of course you would say something like this,” I said with a smile.
“Where is the girl you mentioned in your letter?”
“I haven’t seen her since this morning. When I asked Mr Whistler about it, all he said was that I needed to focus on my performance…”
I was very concerned about Melina. Mr Whistler and her seemed very close for now, but…
At that moment, the mysterious man’s voice echoed throughout the hall.
“Ladies and gentlemen, are you enjoying your ride on the Crown Petone?”
Everyone in the theatre froze.
“We will now begin the puzzle-solving game, for eternal life!”
“Puzzle-solving…?”
“A game…?”
We were all equally confused.
“The rules are simple,” the voice continued. “The last one standing as the winner of the game will get eternal life!”
These two last words won over everyone’s fears, and one by one, more and more people took their seats in silence. I was quite surprised to see that the idea of eternal life would fascinate so many, to such extent. Many wanted to live forever, many more merely hoped for it…
But if I could live forever, what would I even do? If I could continue to live alone, would I really be happy…? With my loved ones dying one by one, leaving me alone for good…
The sound of the little boy’s voice brought me back to reality.
“Professor…?”
He was looking up at Professor Layton with a worried expression. He was only a child, yet he seemed to act as if he were some kind of assistant.
“Under these circumstances, it appears that we have no other choice but to join in, Luke.”
So this was his name.
The two took their seats, getting ready for whatever would come next.
I sat next to the professor and tightly clutched the pendant on my chest. What sort of puzzle-solving game would that be…?
Intense anger started to rise. What on Earth was that man thinking?
I was concerned about Luke. I had put a lovely child in danger, just by writing my letter to the professor…
While I was feeling this regret, I remembered that the wheels of fate had already started to turn and move forward, just like the Crown Petone was doing now as a ship.
I did not want to have any more regrets. And for this, I had to protect Luke and Melina somehow…
I was determined.
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 ⇚       ⇛
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thewertsearch · 1 year
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Asks Comp - 16/4
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I literally did not know The Baby Is You was a thing. To be welcomed back into the comic like this after four months is very on brand for Homestuck.
... and wow, its outro really does match the end of this song, doesn't it? That's even funnier than if he'd snuck some of Megalovania in there.
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Ooh, that's another liveblog I'll want to check out when I'm done! I've never actually seen a Worm liveblog before. Adding it to the list myself!
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Nothing's really changed since I've been gone! I make a conscious effort not to do much Homestuck analysis off-blog, since I want my journey to be fully documented here.
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It's good to be back! I'm looking forward to a full reread when I'm done.
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Would you believe I didn't even know there was a book?
I also didn't know the movie had two (allegedly) terrible sequels, which is very funny. Neverending story indeed.
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Thank you! I can't take too much credit, though - most of my tagging system has been crowdsourced from askers!
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At some point, before we reach the end of the comic, I'm going to have to formalize my approach to liveblogging Homestuck's side content.
What I'll probably do is give each of them the 'lite' treatment initially, but if they turn out to be more canonical than I thought, or particularly interesting to liveblog, I'll 'zoom in', and analyze them properly. We'll see how we go!
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Could you imagine the relationship dynamics in your average troll soap opera? The shipping web for a single season would make our heads explode.
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It's a fun question. What sort of object symbolizes everything?
The first thing I'd try would be a star chart, Dave's magnifier and a literal planetful of Grist.
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Added to the list! Not until later later on, though - I'd worry that the opinions and theories of another liveblogger could interfere with my own, especially if they're talking about it with someone who's already read it!
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I would find it hard to disagree.
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Do people think Act 1 is pointless?
I mean, it is the slowest Act in terms of pacing, but slow pacing isn't always a bad thing. You sort of have to take it slow when your readers have this much to get to grips with.
...okay, maybe we didn't need quite as many Sylladex mishaps as we got. But we still needed some. Homestuck has a lot to introduce you to.
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I always pictured an English accent for Hass - although, interestingly, I didn't picture one for Jade. As a headcanon, I like the NZ one better.
Where did Grandpa grow up again, actually? He was raised by Fake Mark Twain, who was from Missouri - but I don't have a clue what a Missouri accent sounds like, let alone one from a century ago. I have a funny feeling that it's not the accent I'm imagining coming from Jade.
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Now that's a ship I'd never have seen coming. Props to Hussie for coming up with something more controversial than my Feferi<>Equius.
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All four kids, with four endgame weapons, might be able to challenge Jack's current incarnation - but they're not going to get the chance. You've hit the nail on the head - he's semi-perfect Jack for a reason.
I have several theories for Jade's prototyping, and every single one of them would make Jack even more dangerous than before. It's just barely possible to challenge him now, but things will only get worse.
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Read the room, Serket!
Would Vriska have tried to negotiate? She feels like the type of person who'd rather take a beating than admit they're outclassed. Plus, I'm not sure how much she'd have to offer Aradia, who seemed entirely motivated by revenge (and, possibly, secretly motivated by timeline stuff).
All that said, I would have loved to hear Vriska trying to worm her way out of this.
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I love it! Please send in the completed house, if you get the chance. That's going to look so cool with a moving meteor.
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And they're both easily distractible! This feels like two people who might actually get on surprisingly well, if they were in, say, the same high school class.
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It's hard to say what's a rarepair, since I don't know what ships are rare in the fandom - although I'd have a few guesses about the most common ones.
If we're going for a ship with very tenuous connections, I will submit Rose x Feferi for your appraisal. They're both fans of the Noble Circle, and their signature colors are pretty close.
You know what, I'll just review all of your ships. Tavros/Gamzee - PB&J - is pretty cute. [] I'd recommend Miracle Child for a number of reasons, but it does include a well-written Gamtav. Jack/Droog is more <> to me than it is <3. Like One Sundered Star might be influencing that? I'm not really sure. Somewhere I think I saw a Jack<>Droog. Your pre-shipping chart post isn't in the chrono; also, I'm pretty sure the A6A6I5 ask is one of mine. Gamzee/Eridan is a rarepair; I've seen it, but not often, and it's a <> in the fic I'm referencing. Kanaya<>Terezi and Feferi<>Vriska are strange enough that I've never seen them anywhere, really. [] And finally, Vriska and Tavros. These two are the textbook example of why the ashen quadrant needs to exist, and they're a perfect pair for it. [] ~LOSS (8/1/23)
I don't even know if Carapacians have moirallegiance - but those two would definitely work if they did.
Out of all my ships you flagged as rare, I think my favorite is Feferi<>Vriska. I just think they'd gel weirdly well together!
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tyalangand · 3 months
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Fat characters are misrepresented in fiction similarly to queer characters, actually
Ask yourself a question. When was the last time you saw a movie / TV show / game / read a book where the fat character:
was a protagonist, not a funny sidekick or a "positive best friend" to a protagonist (or, even worse, the villain)
had a plot revolving around them that didn't concentrate on their weight and struggles around it? Or, alternatively, their fatness was treated as an important aspect of their life, but not the only aspect?
...exactly
I can't even think of any example rn. Not saying that they don't exist at all, but they are so rare that honestly nothing comes to mind. (Maybe Nina from the Six of Crows book? Maybe, even though she's a part of an ensemble of protagonists rather than a single protagonist. Also, arguably, Aziraphale from GO; and, perhaps ironically, the hobbits! Tolkien really had some interesting things to say actually)
There are actually way more examples of good queer rep from recent years (Our Flag Means Death, Nimona, Heartstopper, Good Omens, and many others). But fat characters? Nada.
(if you actually know of any examples, I'll love to hear about them)
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Text
Life is Good - Two
Pairing: Frankie Morales x Female Reader
Word Count: 10,370
Rating: NSFW. For many reasons. 
Summary: After he’s done making you dinner, where does the night take you and Frankie... and what does it tell you about the man himself - and what the rest of the week could be like?
Author’s note:
The response to the first part of this has been absolutely overwhelming. I hope that all of you enjoy what’s to come. Frankie (especially this version of him) has been a lot of fun to write. 
Thank you so much for reading and commenting and reblogging. I appreciate all of you so very much. 
Some housekeeping:
The rooms Reader and Frankie are in are linked on the main Masterlist page; (Frankie’s is ‘Bedroom 2′ and pictures begin at 33/48, yours is  ‘Bedroom 1′ and the pictures start at picture 32/46.) The room where he cooks and you eat are marked ‘cabana’ and are 15+16/48). 
Part 1
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You ate in the downstairs room, the two of you sitting across from each other at the long table. It was one of the most laid back meals you’d ever had, and talking to Frankie became even easier as time passed. He was charming and smart, funny in a way that you figured he didn’t always get to showcase around his much more outgoing friends. And he listened, too, Frankie leading the conversation back to you whenever he felt like he’d been talking about himself for too long, asking pointed questions about your life and your friends. It’s a damn shame he lives so far from me. 
By the time you finished dinner, the rain had slowed to a slow drizzle, and even though the temperature stayed cool, you didn’t mind. You were warm in Frankie’s hoodie and your shorts, and the two of you worked side by side to clean up, stashing the remaining food in the refrigerator and rinsing dishes before loading them into the dishwasher. But when that was done, both of you were at a loss. “There’s really not much to do, unless you wanna play ping pong or foosball. The movie selection here isn’t…” He shrugged. “We could log into Netflix, but as soon as the other guys get home, it’ll be pointless.” 
“Do you have the keys to that car in the driveway?” He nodded, frowning. “There’s an ice cream place up on the corner of Sandbridge and Sandfiddler. I don’t know how late they’re open, or how busy they’ll be, but …” 
“That’s a great idea.” His smile was warm. “I didn’t even know that was up there.” Perfect. An ice cream date. “You wanna go now, or wait a little longer?”
“Now’s fine.” Heading for the stairs, you looked back over your shoulder at him. “I’m buying.” He argued with you all the way to the car, but stopped when you told him that since he’d bought and cooked you dinner, you were happy to treat him to dessert. It only took a few minutes to drive to the plaza where the shop was, and you were relieved to see that it wasn’t completely full. Frankie pulled the car into an empty spot in the lot with ease, both of you getting out at the same time. “There’s a gift shop, too. So if you were looking for something to take home to Elijah, and you guys aren’t going to the boardwalk, this is an option.”  
He didn’t say anything in return, but when you made it to the front of the vehicle, Frankie reached over, taking your hand and pulling you close. When he dropped a kiss to the top of your head, letting go of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist, you were almost stunned. I don’t know what I said, but … 
He kept the arm around you as you waited in the short line inside, both of you talking over the menu. When you placed your order - a double scoop of raspberry and lemon sorbet for you and a salted caramel bananas foster cone for him - you were quick to pull out your wallet, not wanting to give the man a chance to step in.  
Rather than eating in the small shop, you went back outside and crossed the street, taking a seat on the benches in the parking lot for the public beach. For a few minutes, you ate in silence, scanning the empty lot and the angry sea in front of you, but then Frankie cleared his throat, swallowing a mouthful of his treat. “You’re the first person that I’ve actually gone out with like this in a long time.” What does that mean? “Benny fights, like he was saying last night, and since me an’ Elijah’s mom broke up, it was easier to use that environment to find someone than it was to go through the bullshit of dating.” 
“So you’ve been single for two years?” You took a bite, too, turning your head toward Frankie. “That’s a long time.” It took him a minute to answer, his lower lip jutting out in a pout that you wished you could see all of.
“Single, yes. Celibate? No.” He smiled, but you could tell that he wasn’t quite proud of what he was telling you. “I mean, I’ve gone out for drinks with women, met ‘em for dinner a couple times, but nothing … nothing like an actual date. I’m real bad at it, so it’s easier when there’s no expectations and I know that the night’s gonna end in something that I’m alright at.” 
“I don’t think you’re bad at this, Frankie.” It was your turn to frown, scooting closer to him. “You invited me over for dinner, cooked, and now we’re having ice cream. I’m having fun. And I had fun on the beach last night, too. I think you’re a lot better than you’re giving yourself credit for.” He licked at his cone again, the ends of his hair moving in the breeze as you stared at his profile. “And if you think you’re bad at this, then I’m sure you’re more than alright at other things.” 
You had nothing to lose - you had five days of vacation left, and then you’d be flying back to Colorado and to your job and regular life, Frankie and his friends going back to Tampa and whatever it was that they did there. And I’m attracted to him, and he’s attracted to me, so… He’d reached the cone portion of his ice cream just as you hit the second scoop of yours, the man’s brow furrowed as he stared straight ahead, crunching the cone between his teeth. Did I say something wrong? 
Instead of taking another bite, he lowered the hand holding the remains of the cone and turned his head enough to look at you. He’d left the hat at the house after taking it off while you ate, and so you were gifted with an unobstructed view of his face as he stared at you. “Wanna find out?” 
You thought you’d misheard him at first, but when the look in his eyes changed - the brown darkening slightly as he narrowed them, you knew that you hadn’t. “Yeah. I do.” Ice cream forgotten, you stood up and waited for the man to do the same. I really do. It took him a few seconds but then the man was on his feet, too, reaching for the dish you held in your hand and then tossing it - and the remaining cone in his - into a trash can. He glanced down at his fingers, wrinkling his nose, and when you saw a smear of red on his thumb, your hand shot out, gripping his wrist and lifting his hand so that it was level with your mouth. 
He figured out what you were doing seconds before you parted your lips and guided his thumb between them, the man swearing under his breath just as your tongue made contact with his skin to lick the sorbet from it. He groaned, closing his eyes briefly and then slowly dragged the pad of his thumb over your lower lip before withdrawing his hand. “You’re trouble, aren’t you.” 
“Not usually.” You winked at him. “But I’m on vacation.” Spinning away from him, you started to walk back toward the car, Frankie close behind. He unlocked it and you slid into the seat, heart pounding as he got in next to you. But instead of turning the key in the ignition, Frankie leaned over the center console and cupped your cheek, turning your head toward him. 
Closing the distance, he kissed you again - soundly, but you could feel the restraint in him - the man coiled so tightly that you gasped against his lips. You had no doubts that the man was more than alright when it came to the things that the two of you were about to do, but you wondered if he’d hold himself back like he was in the car, or if he’d truly let himself go, getting lost in what both of you could look back at as a one night stand. “Your place or mine?” He pulled back enough to ask, but didn’t stop kissing you, his bearded chin moving over your smooth one and making you shiver. 
“Someone’s always in that patio by my room.” You kissed him back, biting on his lower lip. “And it’s right off the kitchen, so -”
“I’m right by the front door.” He straightened up, pulling his hand away from you and rubbing it over his chin. “But I can always text Pope and have ‘em come in through the garage.” 
“Yes. That.” Laughing, you settled back into the seat, Frankie putting the car in reverse. “Wait… how loud are you?” 
“It depends.” He shrugged, turning back onto the road. “We’ll find out soon.”
— 
When he parked, both driveways were still empty, and so after the door was closed behind you and locked, Frankie pulled out his phone and typed something into it, lips twisted into a smirk. “They’re still at Top Golf. Haven’t even gone to dinner yet.” Oh, that gives us plenty of time. “So. I’m going to go upstairs for a second, you know where my room is and where the bathroom is… I’ll meet you there?” 
Telling him that was fine, you went into his room and straight into the bathroom after flipping on one of the lamps, washing your hands and your face and staring at yourself in the mirror. You hadn’t expected to hook up with anyone on the trip - in fact, it had been your mission to find someone for Jordan, and that’s as far as your planning went. The odds of meeting anyone interesting enough to consider going to bed with them hadn’t seemed high, and yet barely 48 hours after your vacation began, you’d been proven wrong. For me and for Jordan. 
You didn’t know for sure that she and Pope had slept together, but you would have put money on it, which meant that the trip was already a success. And now … Frankie. Debating on whether or not to use the mouthwash that was sitting on the counter, you spun away from the sink at the sound of his footsteps coming down the stairs, heading back into the larger room and sitting on the edge of the bed. 
When he appeared in the doorway, he was carrying two bottles of water in one hand. “Figured we might need it.” He set them down on the table next to the bed and then reached into his pocket, pulling out a pair of condoms, too. “And I grabbed these from Pope’s room. I didn’t bring any, and I didn’t think you’d have one on you, so…” 
“Is he going to need them?” Asking through a laugh, you were relieved when Frankie lowered himself next to you after closing and locking the door, his hand immediately moving to your knee and settling there. “I wouldn’t want to deprive him of -” 
“He’s got plenty. Picked up a huge box at Target yesterday when we were waiting on Tom, so he won’t miss a couple.” Makes sense. Things had slowed down slightly, though the want you felt for the man hadn’t disappeared since the bench and your bold reply. But this is where it gets weird. This is where we have to talk about the - “I haven’t been tested recently or anything, but uh… I have to get physicals and bloodwork for my pilot’s license, and the most recent one came back normal, so…” He rubbed at the back of his neck, and you realized that that was one of his go-to moves when he was anxious about something. He shouldn’t be. “Been a little over a month since I was with anyone, and -”
“Hey, it’s fine.” You laid a hand on top of his. “We don’t need to trade histories here. As long as we’re using protection, and you don’t think there’s any need for concern otherwise, I’m… I’m alright with it.” But since he was honest… “It’s been longer than a month for me, but even then it wasn’t actual sex the most recent time, so -” 
“Got it.” He said your name and asked you to look at him, the man’s eyes warm again. “Do you think that it was this awkward for Pope and your friend? Because I was feelin’ really confident in the car, but now that we’ve -”
“Jordan doesn’t know the meaning of the word awkward.” He grinned at you and you rolled your eyes. “And yeah, Frankie, I could tell you were confident in that car. I liked it.” He sucked in a breath. “I’d like to see more of it right now.” It was apparently the right thing to say because he leaned closer, your eyes closing as he kissed you again. His hand stayed on your knee, but you brought up your other one, gripping the back of his neck to keep him close. As the kiss deepend, you could taste the remains of his ice cream on his tongue - salty and sweet, unlike the tartness of yours. 
You didn’t know who started moving first, but only a few seconds later, you were on your back, head resting on one of his pillows as Frankie hovered over you, still seated but pressing his chest against yours. “Could kiss you for fucking hours,” he breathed into your ear, the rasp of his beard against your cheek a sharp contrast to his words. “But that’s not all I wanna do.” That’s not all I want, either. He sat straight up and urged you to do the same, but when you reached for the bottom hem of the hoodie, he stopped you - covering your hands with his and shaking his head back and forth. “Let me.” 
You lifted your arms as he raised the material, pulling it over your head and tossing it across the room, but before he went back to do the same with your t-shirt, he kissed you again, that time with bruising force. The man’s lips crashed into yours as he flattened his palm on the side of your throat, his fingers pressed against the base of your skull and his thumb extended upward behind your ear. Whimpering into his mouth, your hands tugged on his shirt, eager to get to the expanse of golden skin that you knew was waiting beneath it. “Gonna have to let me go, Frankie.” Smiling against his lips as you spoke, it was his turn to groan, even though he didn’t stop you, raising his arms to let you remove the material. 
You stood then, stepping away from the bed and undid the button on your shorts, Frankie frowning and then opening his mouth to speak. “What’s the rush?”
“Well.” Wetting your lips and you eased the denim down your legs, you put your hands on your hips. “I gotta wear those out of here later, so I’m making sure I can.” Damp underwear was one thing - you could easily hide that, but ruined shorts were a different story. And I might not leave right away, so… “And if we’re both going to be naked anyway, why wait?” Pulling the shirt over your head and letting it fall from your fingers, you were pleased to watch Frankie suck in a breath as he stared, his hands reaching out toward you. He’s already seen me in a bathing suit, this isn’t any different. 
You stepped between his legs, thighs hitting the edge of the bed, and then you felt his mouth on your chest, falling between your breasts as he hugged your waist. His breath was warm as it hit your skin, Frankie taking the material of your bra between his teeth before moving lower, ducking his head down to drag his nose over the swell of one breast. While he did that, you ran your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp with the tips of them. He seemed to like that, groaning out responses even though he didn’t lift his mouth from your skin, but when you tugged on his hair again, he sat straight up, tilting his head back to look up at you. “Hmm?” 
“There anything you want from me?” Moving your hands down to his shoulders, you cocked your head to the right. “Anything you like? It would have been easy enough to drop to your knees in front of him, hands reaching for the zipper on his shorts, but you wanted to hear it from him instead, absolute proof that he wouldn’t stop you - and that it was something he liked. “Whatever you want me to -”
“Want your mouth on me.” He hissed the words out, his hands moving to squeeze your thighs. “Been thinking about it all day, and I know how that sounds but -”
“Good.” Reaching for one of the bed pillows, you dropped it onto the floor and then knelt atop it, hands moving to his thighs. “Was hoping you’d say that.” You gave him a few seconds to tell you to stop, and when he didn’t, you reached for his zipper, undoing it and then slipping your fingers through the opening, the man hissing as you made contact with him through his underwear. He felt large, and when you freed him, gently tugging him out into the open, your suspicions were confirmed - the man long and thick in your hand, even though you could tell that he was only half-hard. Shit. 
Wrapping your fingers around him as far as you could, you gave him a few cautious pumps with your fist, steadying yourself. Parting your lips, you lowered your head toward him, flicking the end of your tongue over his tip and feeling as he tensed, Frankie whispering your name. That was all it took - you opened your mouth wider, lips sealing around his head and your tongue swirling against it, eyes closed. 
There was no way you’d be able to take all of him into your mouth and so you didn’t even try, instead focusing on using your hand near his base, twisting your wrist back and forth while you mouthed the rest of him, head bobbing up and down. One of his hands rose to the back of it, not keeping you in place or urging you to move faster; instead, it seemed like Frankie just wanted to touch you, which you didn’t mind. 
You set a steady rhythm for your hand and a different one for your mouth, ensuring that you were making contact with as much of him as you could, but Frankie’s quiet grunts and the way he was panting out breaths from above you told you everything you needed to know about what he was feeling. You opened your eyes and glanced up, finding that he was staring at you, his gaze focused, eyes still dark. He was looking at you with more desire than you’d seen on anyone’s face in a long time, and at the realization, you doubled down on your movements, taking more of him into your mouth and humming, sending the vibrations down his length and straight to his groin, Frankie calling out your name and tightening his grip on your hair just enough. 
But you liked it, the hum turning into a cry that you knew he felt, Frankie hissing out your name and telling you to stop, the word thick as it stuck in his throat. You didn’t want to, but because he’d asked, you pulled off of him with an audible pop, taking a deep breath as you reached up with your free hand to swipe some of the saliva from your lips. “Why’d you -” 
“You keep doing that and I’m gonna come before I get the chance to find out what you like.” He pushed his lips out, the expression closer to a smirk than a smile. “And that’s not something I wanna do.” He urged you to rise up to your full height without standing, Frankie leaning closer to kiss you after taking a second to tuck himself back into his pants. His mouth started on yours but quickly moved down to your chin, the graze of his teeth against the skin there enough to make you shiver. ‘But you know what I do want?” No, I don’t. Tell me. “Can I show you?” 
You agreed without thinking about it - almost delirious at the thought of the man doing anything to you, and the next thing you knew, Frankie was pulling you to your feet and flush against his body, his hands roaming over your back and unhooking your bra. When he eased the straps down your arms and the material fell to the floor, he pushed you away by the shoulders, lowering his head and taking the sight of you in. “You’re overdressed, Frankie. It’s not fair.” 
“No it isn’t.” He unbuttoned his shorts, letting them drop before he kicked them away. “That better?” It was - you could see more of his body than had been on display on the beach, and you liked what you saw, especially since it wasn’t on display for a day in the sun; he was almost naked because he wanted to be that way for you. “Lay down.” He gestured to the bed, his hands running up and down your sides.
You climbed into the bed as he asked, getting comfortable and turning your head to one side, eyeing the man. He put one hand on his hip as he looked down at you, the other one rubbing against the back of his beck. You took the opportunity to stare at him - drinking in the sight of his body; broad shoulders, strong, muscled arms, a tapered waist, the smattering of dark hair that lined the soft curve of his abdomen disappearing beneath the elastic waistband of his underwear. He wasn’t as fit as Pope or Will or Benny, but you still thought he was the most attractive of them all, and it had nothing to do with the fact that he was slowly crawling into the bed with you, his arms caging you in as he straddled your waist, bending forward you kiss you again.
He put his hands on either side of your waist and hooked fingers under the elastic waistband of your underwear, dragging them down as you lifted up enough to allow it. But he didn’t look away from your face, even as he lowered them enough so that you could kick them free of both legs, leaving you entirely bare on the bed. 
You heard the pop of one knee as he moved and couldn’t contain the laughter that bubbled up at the sound. He froze, but instead of pushing him away, you urged him closer, arching your back and closing the final distance between your mouths as your hands roamed over his freckled shoulders. “Bet that’s not the loudest noise either of us makes tonight, Frankie.” You took his earlobe between your teeth, tugging as you relaxed below him. “I’m not laughing at you. I promise.” 
“I know.” He kissed you again, sighing. “And in a couple minutes, you won’t be laughing at anything.” He moved with purpose, then, making his way down your body with his mouth, fingertips trailing over your chest as he licked at the skin of your neck, tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat. You hummed in appreciation, hands still on Frankie’s back but moving higher - once again tangling in his hair as his mouth traveled lower, the warmth of his breath fanning out over your collarbone. 
His hands lifted from your sides and moved to your chest, too, the man settling a palm over the swell of one and using the pad of his thumb to rub circles over the other breast, bringing your nipple to attention before he took it between his lips and sucked, the pressure making your back arch again. Fuck. Fuck he… there’s no way anyone’s ever told him he was just alright. He didn’t linger at your chest even through you could tell that at least part of him wanted to, Frankie’s mouth traveling at a slow and steady pace down the center of your body. 
He stopped at your navel, kissing the skin there and then turning his head to the side and rubbing his cheek against it. “You asked me what I wanted before.” Turning his head again, Frankie rested his chin on your stomach, his beard tickling the sensitive skin that he’d just had his mouth on. “And I think you know where I’m headed, but -”
“Please.” Lifting your head to look down at him, you nodded, teeth digging into your lower lip. “Not gonna tell you no.” With lips like those who the fuck would? He winked at you, and then tilted his head down, mouth returning to your skin - but instead of just kissing it, he pursed his lips, sucking gently to the left of your navel before releasing the skin and moving downward, repeating the same until he’d made his way to the crease of your thigh. There, he used his teeth, the edges of them scraping over the thin skin as he shifted his arms to occupy the space beneath your legs, lifting your lower body off of the bed a few inches as your thighs rested on his forearms. Oh, fuck, he’s really going to… 
Keeping your eyes on the top of his head, you heard him inhale as his lips traveled toward the center of your body - but it wasn’t them that touched down first. It was his tongue, the flat of it dragging slowly over you once and then again before he increased the pace, licking your already slick skin. He groaned at the taste of you, the man’s broad shoulders spreading your legs further apart, and then when his tongue delved into you for the first time, it was you that cried out, one hand gripping the blankets beneath you, the other moving to grip the curls on the crown of his head. 
He hummed in approval at your touch, the movement of his tongue within you quickening from lengthy strokes to repeated flicks. You had little time to adjust to that sensation before he withdrew it completely, moving up a few inches and sealing his lips over the swollen bud at the apex of your thighs, his tongue beginning to move over it leisurely only moments later. You were so focused on the way that felt - gentle pressure and steady movement - that you didn’t realize he’d pulled one arm free until he slipped a finger into you, the digit sinking into your body slowly. 
You moaned his name at the feeling, hips lifting as much as they could off of the bed, the word followed by a broken plea for more, even as your grip on his hair tightened. He didn’t keep you waiting, another finger joining the first with the next thrust into you, the motion causing your toes to curl, a quiet whimper catching in your throat before it escaped. 
He reacted immediately to the sound, Frankie’s tongue speeding up as he lapped at your body, his soaked beard rubbing against the sensitive skin between your legs while his mouth worked you over. It was apparent that he knew what he was doing - and that he enjoyed it, if the vibrations from his groans were any indication. As your chest began to rise and fall quickly, slow breaths turning into panting that matched your racing heartbeat, you contemplated telling him to slow down - to keep you hanging until he was buried in you and could make you come that way. 
But when Frankie’s lips released you and his mouth moved lower once again, tongue working in tandem with his fingers and the tip of his nose rubbing against the space his lips had previously been, you decided against it. It was clear that he wanted to take you over the edge with his mouth, and when he added a third finger, the thickness of them moving in and out of you forcing another whimper from your throat, you abandoned all thoughts of ever telling him to stop. “Fuck, Frankie!” 
You didn’t recognize the sound of your own voice, already hoarse, and were immensely thankful for the empty house, because you had no desire to tone it down. He pulled away briefly, mumbling your name, and when you forced your eyes open and your gaze downward, you saw that he was staring at you with hooded eyes, the man’s mustache and lips glistening. “Taste so good.” He licked his lips, eyes closing briefly, and when he opened them again, you saw resolve in them before he lowered his head again, quickening the pace of his fingers as he crooked them inside of you, dragging the roughened pads along your walls as his tongue sped up, once again focused on the outside of your body. 
You felt your orgasm building, the heat pooling in your belly and working lower, the muscles in your thighs tightening, and Frankie must have sensed it, too, because he hummed against your skin, twisting his wrist and spreading his fingers apart just enough so you could feel the stretch within you. He kept at it with his tongue and lips, too, but you completely fell apart at the graze of his teeth, a low wail caught in your throat as you soaked his hand and chin, the man almost immediately withdrawing his fingers and shifting his mouth lower again, lapping at you with his tongue. 
You were dimly aware of his fingers - damp and warm on the side of your knee, urging your legs wider apart to spread you open for him as you came, Frankie’s tongue moving over and over the sensitive skin as he drank you down, your muscles clenching around nothing but the tip of his tongue as it laved at your body. Oh, fuck. That… he… 
Your thoughts were incoherent as he continued, and when you couldn’t stand it anymore, shivering at the feeling of overstimulation, you forced his name out, the hand in his hair tugging gently to urge him away from your spent body. “Hey, stop. Come… come here, you…” Sighing as he backed away and released your leg, pulling his other arm out from beneath you, the man removed his underwear and then crawled back up your body, pressing kisses to the skin of your abdomen as he moved before bypassing your chest and heading straight for your jaw, leaving a damp trail behind his lips. 
Both of your hands moved to his lower body, urging his hips against yours, and when you felt him pressing against your belly, you sighed, breathing out as your fingers curled against his skin. He pressed his forehead against yours and you realized that he, too was breathing hard. “Can I ki-” You didn’t let him finish, angling your head so that your lips could meet his, and when they did, he immediately thrust his tongue between them, treating you to a taste of yourself. 
You didn’t want to stop kissing him, the man’s lips plush and supple, fitting with yours like you’d been doing it for longer than two days, but when you realized how close he was to slipping into you unprotected thanks to the unconscious movement of your hips against each other, you pushed him away gently, gasping as you took a breath. “Gotta stop, Frankie, otherwise …” You glanced down and then back at him, a look of understanding in his eyes. 
“You’re right.” He cleared his throat, swallowing hard and used one arm to brace himself as he reached over with his other hand, grabbing a condom from the nightstand and ripping it open with his teeth. “How d’you wanna do this?” He raised an eyebrow, keeping his eyes on you as he sat up straight, reaching down to roll the condom over his length. “Because I’ve got an idea.” 
“Whatever you want.” Still trying to get your breathing under control, you moved your eyes down and watched as he stroked himself, grip loose. “What’s -” He climbed out of the bed and moved to the foot of it, smirking. Oh. “The bench.” He nodded, glancing down as he used one knee to push it over to the left. Perfect. Scrambling down to the end of the bed after reaching behind you to drag a pillow along, you watched as he lifted one knee, resting it on the top of the bench and kept the other foot on the floor. “That works.” 
“Wanna look at you.” He wet his lips again, still stroking himself with one hand. “C’mon.” Laying back, you kept your eyes on him as he released his hold, both hands moving to our legs as he positioned them on either side of his body. One foot flat on the bench next to his leg, he urged the other to wrap around his hip, Frankie nodding as you got into position. “Tell me if it’s too much, alright?” 
“It won’t be.” Your muscles clenched slightly in anticipation, but you were certain. “Please, just…” He grinned at you, the dimple apparent on his cheek, and then Frankie’s fingers were busy again, guiding himself into place as he drew you closer with his other hand. He paused at your entrance until you gave him a tiny nod of confirmation, and then he pushed in, the man’s eyes snapping shut as he breached your body. 
He’d felt big in your hand, but seemed even thicker once inside you, and even though he paused, giving you time to adjust, you knew that the only thing that would help would be him moving, helping your body acclimate to the size of him. “Gonna move now.” He gritted his teeth, moving both hands to your hips. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” It was all the permission he needed, Frankie rocking his hips forward and gliding into you. You moaned at the feeling, his fingers pressing into your skin, and even though there was a pinch of pain as he stretched you out, you liked how it felt, struggling into a position with your upper body raised on both elbows so that you could watch. “Fuck, Frankie.” Mouth dropping open as you watched him disappear into you, you glanced up and saw that Frankie was doing the same - his eyes focused on where you were connected. 
You were still slick enough that there was little resistance to him, and as he moved, picking up the pace, your body adjusted to him, the man going a little deeper with each thrust. This feels so fucking good. “Fuck that feels good.” He grunted the words out, nose wrinkled as one side of his lip curled up. “You feel good.” He pulled you closer, snapping his hips against yours and at the feeling of him buried to the hilt, you collapsed onto your back, thigh muscles tensing as he continued to move. Frankie’s pace was steady - and  it increased as he moved his hands from your hips to your thighs, his fitting neatly between your spread legs. 
He was muttering under his breath - some words, mostly sounds, and you couldn’t hold yourself back at hearing it, one hand lifting from the blankets and sliding down your stomach until you were touching yourself - fingers spread so that you could feel him between them as he moved in and out of you. “Christ, Frankie.” With another whimper, you pulled your hand back enough so that your fingertips where where you needed them to be, two of them beginning to circle against your soaked skin. 
“You… you gonna do that or…” He groaned, your eyes opening to find that he was staring at you, mouth hanging open. “Or… do you want me t-”
“You.” You didn’t stop, though, panting. “You Fr-” He let go of one leg and you braced it again on the bench as you kept your eyes on him, the man bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking the tips of his fingers twice before bringing them down to take over for yours. Not wanting to just lay there, you loosely wound your fingers around his wrist, hearing his quiet hum of approval at the touch. Already open from where he was spearing into you, he found his target easily, the man’s fingers pressing down as they started to move in the same pattern yours had moments earlier. It’s not going to take much. 
Still sensitive from the first time, you knew that the combination of his thrusts and the man’s fingers - along with the way the tendons in his wrist flexed beneath your fingers - would send you over the edge in very little time, and so you turned your head to one side, cheek pressed to the pillow as your mouth opened again, a choked cry escaping. You wanted to tell him how good it felt, wanted to tell him you needed more, but the words didn’t come. 
Instead, you focused on the way your noises filled the room, the sound of skin on skin mingled with his grunts and your cries. You honed in on the way his hand felt against your skin and the fit of him within you. You let yourself get lost in the stretch, the way that you knew you’d feel him for days, and after one particularly smooth thrust coupled with the edge of his nail gently scraping over the swollen bud beneath it, your entire body froze, fingers tightening around his wrist, toes curling and your free hand forming a tight fist atop the blankets. Oh, fuck. Oh, shit. 
You moaned out his name - but you didn’t call him Frankie, instead you heard yourself saying his full name, Francisco rolling off your tongue as your muscles pulsed around him, drawing him deeper into your body. He swore again as he felt it, and you opened your eyes to see his head hanging down, focused on you. Without breaking stride, Frankie leaned forward, pulling his hand away from you and sliding both of them up the bed next to your sides. 
Instinctively, you moved both legs, wrapping them around his waist and hooking your ankles together behind his back. It changed the angle, lifting your lower body off of the end of the bed, and Frankie groaned again, folding his body over yours, chests pressed together. He kissed you - hard - but it wasn’t more than that, lips smashed together. You needed to touch him, and so you did, bringing both hands up and sliding one through his hair, the roots and ends that curled over the back of his neck damp from exertion. 
Urging his head to the side, you focused in his breathing - harsh and uneven, his hips moving faster and faster. He swore then, tucking his face against the side of your neck, and then Frankie’s hips did stutter, freezing momentarily as he sealed his mouth against your shoulder, the muscles in his back and shoulders tensing. He rocked his hips against yours a few more times - the thrusts lengthening and slowing, Frankie riding out the extent of his release, and when he finally stopped moving, he relaxed atop you, his hands sliding beneath your body and his mouth releasing your sweat-slicked skin. “You alright?” His voice was slightly hoarse, Frankie kissing your throat once before lifting his head. 
“Mmmhmm.” You were still carding through his hair, fingers moving lazily as both of you caught your breath. “You?”
‘Fuck yeah.” He grinned, pulling one hand out from underneath your body and sliding it between the two of you, securing the condom as he eased out of you. Eyes widening at the feeling, you sucked in a breath, Frankie’s grin turning into a smaller, more subdued smirk. “Told you that you wouldn’t be laughing.” 
But that comment only made both of you lose it, Frankie ducking his head down even as you pushed him away with one hand, the man’s laugh rumbling through his chest as it pressed to yours. “Get off of me, you asshole.” He snorted, straightening all the way up, but he still didn’t walk away, instead reaching out to you with both hands. You took them, the man pulling you into a sitting position. 
“Lemme bring you a towel.” He let go of you, cocking his head to the side. “We’ll get cleaned up and then we can go see if anyone’s home, maybe have a beer or sit by the pool if it stopped raining, or…” 
“You want me to stay?” He reacted as though the question offended him, Frankie’s eyes going wide and his lips parting in surprise. 
“Fuck yeah I do. Why wouldn’t I?” Scratching the back of his neck, he frowned. “I thought that -”
“Alright. I just didn’t want to assume anything.” Bracing yourself with both hands, you smiled. “Bring me that towel and you’ve got a deal.” He stepped away from the bed then, crossing the room without bending to put clothes on. You were treated to a lingering look at his back then, eyes focused on the way his shoulder muscles flexed with every slight swing of his arms. I just fucking ruined it. 
You listened carefully while he was in the other room, trying to figure out if you could hear whether or not the others were back, but the house seemed silent, still. It’s gotta be late. They should be back. Pulling the pillow you’d laid down on onto your lap, you hugged it, waiting for Frankie to come out of the bathroom. When he did, you raised a brow at the fact that he’d wrapped a towel around his waist, tucking it closed over one hip. “Here.” Reaching out, he handed you a smaller damp towel, the material warm as it touched your skin. “Lemme grab your clothes.” 
He turned away to do that, collecting each piece for you as you began to swipe the towel over your skin, rising from the bed in order to complete the job. “Thank you.” You set it down on the bench, biting your lip as he held out your shorts first. “Where’s -” Where’s my underwear?
“They’re a little damp.” He blinked slowly. “Figured it wouldn’t be too comfortable.” No, it wouldn’t be. Fighting back a laugh, you pulled your shorts on, buttoning them. But instead of reaching for the other clothes he held, you reached for Frankie, settling your hands on his shoulders and then running the palms of them down his chest slowly. “What are -”
“I didn’t think you’d want me to leave. But I wanted to give you the option.” Still holding your t-shirt and bra in one hand, he used the other to pull you closer, an arm winding around your waist. “Not like I have to go far.” He cracked a smile at that, but also lowered his head to kiss you again, that one slow and soft, your bare chest pressed to his. 
“The pool deck’s about as far as I want you to go right now.” He spoke quietly, nudging the side of your nose with his. “Get dressed, and then we’ll go see where our friends are.” 
— 
Everyone was back, but it turned out that they’d all decided to spend time at your house after Pope had texted Jordan and let her know that you and Frankie were in theirs. 
Once the two of you had learned that, you crossed the driveway and re-entered your place, joining everyone on the screened in upper porch. No one said anything, but you caught the looks from Jess and Taylor, both of them eyeing you and Frankie before Paige invited you to sit down and jump in on the next round of cards. 
It was still somewhat early, and so the ten of you played for a while, Tom finally excusing himself to go back to the other house a little before eleven when he needed to take another pain pill. You sat next to Frankie, the man occasionally reaching out to settle his hand on your knee - or even atop yours on the table, and the gesture wasn’t lost on you. Guess we’re leaning into this for at least the next couple of days, hmm? 
That didn’t bother you, and by the time everyone started yawning, any lingering awkwardness had completely disappeared, the group of you speaking to each other and interacting as if you were old friends instead of new. Finally, it was just you and Frankie and Jordan and Pope left on the patio, the two men locked into a conversation about something while you and Jordan stood to head back into the kitchen. Frankie glanced over at you as you moved, the man’s smile small but visible, and you returned it, nodding once. 
“I thought you would have gone for Benny.” Jordan opened the refrigerator, reaching in for a bottle of Powerade. “Especially for something quick.” Leaning around her, you grabbed one of the plastic bottles, too, unscrewing the cap and bringing it to your lips. Benny? Really? 
“Nah. He’s nice, but we’d have nothing to talk about.” She laughed, shutting the door and turning her back to the counter, facing you. 
“You don’t need to talk.” Yeah, but … there has to be more to it than that. “I’m just surprised, I guess.” 
“I’m not.” Turning your head, you saw that the men were laughing, Frankie running his hand through his hair, hat sitting on the tabletop. “He’s really nice, Jordan. Smart. Funny. Great in bed, so there are definitely worse options for vacation hookups. I should ask him to spend the night.” 
“I agree.” She raised an eyebrow as she tilted her head back to drink, and for the first time you saw the bruise at the base of her throat, perfectly shaped like a thumbprint. Shit. “Don’t get weird about it. I knew there was a chance it was gonna leave a mark.” Wiping her lips with the back of one finger, she grinned. “He’s strong, and his hands are -”
“Didn’t know you were into that.” You gulped down some of your drink, waiting. 
“I didn’t either, and then he just put his hand on my neck, and it was …” She laughed. “They’re so big, and -”
“What’re you two talking about in here?” Pope peeked his head through the door, eyes bright. “Anything good?” Apparently. “You coming back out, or -”
“Yes.” Jordan winked at you and then spun away from where she was standing, stepping back toward the man. “I am.” Following her, the capped bottle in one hand, you took your seat again, Frankie meeting your eyes but not saying anything. 
“Want some?” You offered the drink, unsurprised when he took it from your hand and tipped his head back and drank, throat working as he swallowed the liquid. “I don’t know how long you’re staying tonight, but there’s more in the fridge. You’re not just limited to beer.” 
“You’re not going to ask him to stay?” Jordan was leaning forward, her elbows propped up on the table. “That’s cold.” And that’s rude. 
“You haven’t asked me to stay either,” Pope interjected, throwing a hand over the woman’s shoulders. “And ‘Fish over here will tell you that I gotta be asked before I -”
“Bullshit.” Frankie laughed. “Don’t let him fool you. Santiago invites himself places all the time even when he knows how fucing inconvenient it is.” Both men laughed, and then you and Jordan did, too. “But if you’re stayin’ Pope, I’ll head out. It’s getting late, and I know all I have to do is walk across a driveway, but…” He cleared his throat.
“Let me walk you out.” You stood, hands flat on the table. “That way I can lock the door.” He got up from the table, too, telling the other two goodnight, and you grabbed the bottle and followed him back into the kitchen, setting the almost empty drink down on the table. I’ll get it later. You hesitated at the top of the stairs, the open door of your room - and the unmade bed inside - catching your attention. “Frankie -”
“You don’t haveta invite me to stay just because she said something.” He’d stuck the hat in his back pocket again, one hand on the top of the low wall, the other on his hip. “I know what they were -”
“I don’t know how this works.” Wetting your lips you stared into his eyes, wanting him to see the honesty in yours. “Am I supposed to ask you to stay? Do you ask me to come back to your place? Was earlier a one time thing, or are we gonna keep this up for the rest of the week and then go our separate ways?” Laughing nervously, you caught your reflection in the window across the room. “This is new to me.”
“Me too.” He shifted his weight. “I think the real question is what do you want?” He narrowed his eyes, raising and lowering his shoulders. “If you’d rather -”
“I’d like it if you stayed.” Speaking quietly, you closed the distance between you, reaching out to touch his arm. “I have fun with you, Frankie. I know you paid for your own place for this week, so if you want to go back, that’s fine. But the reason I didn’t ask you earlier if you wanted to spend the night wasn’t because I don’t want you to.” Something flashed in his eyes, but when he spoke, his voice sounded normal, though a little sad.
“I didn’t bring any condoms with me.” He sighed. “So unless I go ask Pope, I’d need to go back next door.” He’s either going to be alright with this, or it’s going to ruin everything. 
“You can just … sleep here. If you want.” Looking away briefly and preparing yourself for a refusal, you took another breath. “We don’t need to have s-”
“Alright.” He stepped closer, too, the hand on the wall moving to your waist. “Then I’ll stay.” His lips twitched, the man barely concealing a smile. “And I’ll keep my hands to myself.” 
The tension broken, you turned toward your bedroom door, Frankie’s hand never leaving your body. “Why would you do a stupid thing like that?” He laughed as he followed you, the man shutting the door after you were both inside. 
— 
Tuesday Morning
When you woke up the next morning, it was to Frankie wrapped around you from behind, the man’s forearm pressed low against your abdomen. You could feel his breaths against the back of your shoulder, followed by the press of his lips to the bare skin on one side of your tank top’s strap. “You awake?” What time is it? It feels like we just went to sleep.
“No.” Clearing your throat, you tried again. “No, I’m still sleeping.” His arm tightened as he laughed, lifting his head so that he could rest his chin against your shoulder. “What do you want?” 
“You.” The single word sent a jolt through your body, heat spreading through you in an instant. It woke you fully, and you turned onto your back and then onto your opposite side, facing him in the low light that was seeping in from around the edges of the blinds and curtains. I want you too, but… 
“But you said -”
“I lied.” He blinked slowly and then said your name. “I know I shouldn’t have, but I guess I just wanted to know if you only wanted me to stay because you wanted more sex.” He slid his hand up the center of your back, eyes on your face. “I put the extra in my wallet before we left the other house. I was gonna say something last night, but then we both fell asleep so fast that I didn’t get a chance to.” He inhaled and you watched as his shoulders rose. “I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t apologize.” Reaching for him, you brushed the curls back from his face. “I don’t blame you for wanting to know.” But still. “For the record, though, you could have just asked why I wanted you to stay. I would have told you the truth.” 
“I know.”  He smiled and the sight of his cheeks lifting as half of his face pressed against the pillow was something that you know you’d see in your mind for months. “You got any plans today?” 
“Just the beach, if it’s not raining. Maybe the pool.” You were still running your fingers through his hair, the strands soft against your palm. “You?” 
“No idea. I’m sure Will and Ben will come up with something.” Frankie’s eyes drooped slightly as he lowered his gaze, but before he could say anything else, the man yawned, turning his face back toward the pillow to hide it. “Fuck. I guess I’m still tired.” 
“We can go back to bed?” You yawned too, and despite the fact that he’d woken you up in such a promising manner, it could wait. “It’s still early. A couple more hours of sleep won’t hurt.” Scooting closer to him in an attempt to entice the man into remaining in the position you were in, you felt him freeze and then relax, his head moving up and down in slow agreement. 
“Sounds good.” Frankie moved his face closer to yours, dropping a kiss onto the corner of your mouth. “But only if you let me make it up to you when we do get up.” Turning your head you kissed him full on the mouth, the hand in his hair sliding down to the back of his neck and resting there. 
“Sounds like a plan, Frankie.” 
— 
And he did - the man rousing you a few hours later when it was truly morning with his lips against your ear, speaking your name quietly and waiting until you’d acknowledged him to slide his hand down your stomach, fingers searching beneath the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts. Rolling from your side onto your back, you moved your legs apart to give him space, sighing as he found his target. 
He kissed you as he used two fingers to spread you open, a third curving as it slid into you and then withdrew, over and over. Frankie swallowed the moan you let out when one finger was replaced with two, but then he broke the kiss, rising up onto his elbow and staring down at you while you laid on your back, eyes locked on his face and your lips parted. “Let me hear you.” 
You didn’t disappoint him, even though you stayed quieter than you had been the previous night, mindful of the fact that there were other people in the house - likely only a few feet from your door. Frankie pulled noises out of you with his fingers that you’d never heard yourself make before, the man’s head dropping down again to nuzzle at your cheek, his beard scraping over your bare shoulder. 
When your hips began to repeatedly lift from the mattress, Frankie withdrew both fingers, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean, his eyes finally closing. But he didn’t savor the taste of you for long, rolling away and groping for where he’d left his wallet the night before and pulling out the condom with a practiced ease. You used the opportunity to kick your shorts off, heart pounding in your chest as you waited to find out what was next. 
That time, he handed it to you, shoving his boxers down his legs and waiting until you’d torn it open to speak. “Promised I’d make it up to you, right?” Confused, you nodded. “Alright.” He took the condom from your hand and rolled it on before using that hand to lift your hip, easing the lower half of your body onto its side, waist twisted so that you were still looking up at him. “Close your eyes.” Doing as he asked, you kept them shut as Frankie moved back into position behind you, lifting one of your legs and draping it over his knee. His hand brushed your thigh as he reached over your body and then between your legs, lining himself up and then easing into you in one motion, the man only giving you a few moments to adjust before he began to rock his hips. “Keep ‘em closed.” 
He couldn’t move a lot with the position of your bodies, but the man made the most of it, his slow and steady pace giving you the opportunity to enjoy the feeling of fullness, Frankie stiffening further with each thrust as the seconds passed. His left arm snaked its way beneath your body and then up, that hand sliding beneath your top to settle between your breasts. The other hand stayed on your thigh, fingers pressed into your skin as he held you in place. Lifting your arm without opening your eyes, you searched for the back of his head, blindly groping for the man. “Kiss me, Frankie, please. You’ve gotta -”
“Yes, ma’am.” He gave into your request then, the angle perfect. You sighed as his lips parted for you, presenting the perfect opportunity for you to slide your tongue between them, your hips rocking backward to meet the man’s movement. When his hand slid further down and toward the inside of your thigh, the rough pad of his thumb swiping slowly over the skin, you decided that slow, sleepy sex with Frankie was your favorite thing in the world. And I’ve only done it once. 
Having your eyes closed allowed you to focus on the movement of his body and the reception by yours, along with the way his fingers felt as they moved on the inside of your leg, but the thing you paid the most attention to was the way that the man kissed you - deeply and thoroughly, his tongue stroking yours without trying to overpower you.
When you broke apart for a breath, his hand moved up a few inches, fingers moving back to the apex of your thighs, and Frankie said your name, telling you to look at him. You did - forcing your eyes open as you dropped your hand from his head, fingers slipping from his curls to land against the bedding. “You good like this?” He licked his lips, the tip of his tongue visible for a split second. “Or -”
“Yeah.” Sighing the word out as he used his fingers to rub against your skin, you let out a shuddering breath. “Like this.” His answering smile brightened his eyes, and Frankie gave you a single nod, focusing his touch to a single location and applying a little pressure, and when he lowered his head again to kiss you, you finally closed your eyes, getting lost in the sensation of him in and around you. 
He came first - the telltale tensing of the muscles in his thighs and the way his hand on your chest pulled you backward giving him away before you felt anything else, and even though his fingers halted for a few moments, it wasn’t enough to distract you. He groaned into your mouth and then licked the sound back out of it, fingers doubling down and spreading your own slick with every pass, and then it was your turn, hips rocking backwards into his as your muscles clamped down around him, your body going limp seconds later as you struggled to calm your racing heart.
He didn’t pull out immediately, instead slowing the motion of his hips until both of you were still, and then Frankie said your name, the man’s voice quiet. “Hmm?” Reaching up with your left hand, you brushed your knuckles over his cheek, waiting. 
“That enough of a make-up for you?” You laughed - you couldn’t help it - even as you nodded, and at your agreement, he pulled out of you slowly, rolling onto his back and bringing an arm up to rest the back of it against his forehead. “Perfect.” Getting your bearings, you rolled all the way over to face him, draping an arm over his chest and closing your eyes. What a good fucking vacation. “I’m gonna go home and shower, change, see what the guys wanna do today.” Why is he telling me? This is his vacation, too, and he doesn’t… “Gotta call Elijah. I promised him I’d show him the beach.”
“The weather seems nicer today.” One finger tracing slow circles against his skin, you spoke without lifting your head. “Be a good day for that.” He agreed wordlessly, humming, but his next words caught you completely off guard. 
“We should hang out tonight.” But… that’ll be three days in a row. “Here or at our place, doesn’t matter to me.”
“Frankie, you’re here with your friends. Don’t spend all your time with -”
“I see them all the time. Vacation’s about having fun. And I’m having fun. With you.” He sat up and you did, too, straightening your tank top. “We’ve got some shit planned on Thursday and Friday morning, anyway. That’s plenty of time with them.” 
Staring at the man, your eyes moved over his body - starting with the top of his head, curls sleep-mussed and sticking out over his ears, the soft brown of his eyes and the curve of his nose. They moved to his mouth; the way his lips rested in a pout beneath his trimmed mustache, scanning over the sparse beard on his cheeks and chin and then dropped lower, taking in every freckle on his tanned neck and chest. I’m having fun with you, too. “Well you’ve got my number.” Raising both arms over your head, you stretched. “And you know where I live for the week.” 
He surprised you again by lunging for you and tackling you back to the mattress, the man covering your face and chest with kisses as you laughed beneath him. “Yeah.” Running his nose up and along the line of your jaw, he went still when he was looking down at you again. “I do.” 
tag list coming separately. 
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password-door-lock · 5 months
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Mystictober Day 19-- Barbie
“You'll love it,” you promise, settling onto the couch beside Saeran with a piping-hot bag of microwave popcorn in your hands. “I forgot I had all these DVDs.”
Somehow, you came across a box of DVDs from your childhood over the weekend, and, for whatever reason, you offered to share them with Saeran. He doesn't get it, but if you want him to sit there with you and watch children's movies, he isn't going to complain about it. Saeyoung is away from the bunker for the evening at some sort of cosplay convention, so it's just the two of you and that robot cat, which has established itself on your lap like a real animal.
“Hm,” Saeran eyes the title screen suspiciously. “Princess and the Pauper?”
“It was my favorite Barbie movie when I was a kid,” you explain, “I thought it would be a good place to start our marathon.”
“Oh.” Truth be told, Saeran isn't particularly interested in the concept of the film by itself— is it actually going to be about dolls? That doesn't make much sense, considering the title, but why else would the movie be called “Barbie?”— but he enjoys spending time with you, and he knows it means a lot to you to share this with him.
“It's about this princess,” you explain, rather than just letting the movie play. Of course, this evening isn't really about the movie itself— the film is just a way for you and Saeran to get closer, right? You're sharing something with him, and although he's not sure how to navigate it, he's not opposed to passing the time this way. “And then this, uh, seamstress? I think? And despite the fact that they do not look remotely similar, they're supposed to look exactly alike? And then they switch places. I don't remember what they learn, but I guess they have to learn something, right? And then I think there's a scene where they go on the run, and they pass a restaurant, and they think about eating chicken? But that might be another Barbie movie, now that I think about it.”
“There's more than one?” Saeran wrinkles his nose as you finally press the play button, allowing the movie's opening song to begin. “Is it about dolls?” He may as well ask. Though he's still embarrassed to have so many questions about the world around him, you always take his inquiries seriously and answer as best you can.
“Yes,” you reply, “Well... no. Um, so... the dolls have characters, right, like Barbie and Kelly and whatnot?” Saeran has no idea what you're talking about, but he nods anyway. “And then in the movies, those characters are playing completely separate characters. It's pretty meta. At least, I think that's how it works? But the last time I watched a Barbie movie, I was, like, eight? Anyway, they're pretty funny, from what I remember. Mostly, they just take classic stories and add in weird animals, like the weasel from Rapunzel and that blue guy from Fairytopia, which is either supposed to be a utopia or a dystopia, I can't remember.”
Saeran looks at you blankly. He has no idea what you're talking about, but strangely, he doesn't mind. Your constant chattering is oddly comforting, now that he's gotten used to your presence. You’re always eager to explain things for which he has no context, even if your explanations often leave him with even more questions than he had to begin with. “Let's just watch the movie,” he decides eventually. 
“Okay,” you grin, like you're overjoyed to be spending time with him. Saeran can't make any more sense of that than he can of the appeal of these old Barbie movies, but he won't press. “It's not really that confusing. I'm just bad at explaining things— you'll see once it starts.”
You’re quiet while the movie plays, though you do rest your head gently on Saeran’s shoulder. That’s another thing he likes about you— though you can certainly be loud when you want to, you also offer him these moments of peace, where no words are required. He doesn’t have to explain his feelings to you, and he doesn’t expect you to articulate yours for him. The two of you can just exist in the same space together for a few hours while a movie plays. It’s nice, Saeran thinks, being able to sit around watching TV. It’s not something he ever would have dreamed of at Magenta, that’s for sure, and even after leaving, he never would have expected his life to be anything like this. For what it's worth, the movie isn't half bad, though Saeran elects to keep that opinion to himself.
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mirrorthoughts · 10 months
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I started watching TW season one again (the only one I actually watched so far 😂) and once again I'm just amused by the plotholes and discrepancies and things they show or say once and never refer to or use again, as well as the technical side of camera shots and cgi - and I'm only in episode 5 so that's a record if you ask me. (Nevermind that me picking at threads already started with eposiode 1 😂)
Disclaimer: As I said I've never watched that much of the actual series even if I steal the characters to write! Also I'm definitely biased due to the fandom, wiki entries I read and so on. So take all this with a grain of salt! It's mostly stuff I was amused by so if I have it wrong - well. I have it wrong, I guess.
Anyway. On to my observations: (this got long, so I hid them under the readmore)
Sorry to all the people who like scott, but... he's so boring <.< WHY is that guy the main character? EVERYONE else would be more interesting just from a storytelling point of view! Give me Finnstock, Danny, the Sherrif, or any of the other main cast and just get rid of Scott as main POV <.< please.
It's so funny that they tried to make it some kind of horror tv show. I actually recognize classical horror movie scenes, camera shots that should invoke a certain fear or surprise but they somehow manage to put it in such a context that I laugh because I recognize what they want to do and it just doesn't work. Might be a me-problem because I like watching horror films, but... it's still very sad.
Stiles says he once had a boa. I asked the internet and it told me boas in zoos can get about 28 years old... Stiles is 16. Stiles... Stiles, what did you do with your boa?... STILES....
The scene where Stiles and Scott talk through video chat (and is that AOL? Those were AOL-icons... was AOL still alive in 2011? <.<) and Derek stands behind Scott... it's just... why did Scott stare at the screen instead of turning around? Nevermind that he read what Stiles was writing out loud and that Stiles's message was written in such large letters that probably anybody standing 5 miles away could have read it - nevermind the guy Stiles thought was standing behind Scott. Also: why did Derek just... stand there. Especially once he was sure he'd been seen...? I know that's also one of the Horror-esque scenes I mentioned but the timing of it all was so bad! (also also: Scott is just stupid <.<)
They use this weird alternative 'sight' for werewolves in the beginning (the scenes colored in red) and it feels like they use that in the first few episodes and never again after that <.<
Another weird scene: The game where Scott wolfs out and Jackson stays back and finds Scott's glove with holes where Scotts claws came out. I just... have so many questions... 1) Why did Jackson stay back after not only his own WINNING team but also the audience, the enemy team, coach finnstock and ANYONE ELSE who was probably assigned to clean up the field? He even was still in his own lacrosse gear so he stood back to take up a glove a person who'd cleaned up the field should have taken with them?... 2) Why the fuck was Derek staring at him? <.<... or rather, why was he staring at him for so long so Jackson even looked at him? Did Derek even see the whole game? Why did he let Jackson see him? It's not like he tried to scare him into staying silent, for that his staring wasn't nearly scary enough <.<... it's just... another weird composition. Especially since Jackson and Derek have nothing to do with each other <.<...
Scotts dream where he killed Allison in the bus that mimicked how Peter/the Alpha killed the bus driver. Even though later it comes out that he was there and tried to keep the Alpha from killing the guy, this dream is just one instance where they try to 'show' Scott's 'connection' with the Alpha. Correct me if I'm wrong, but the connection he has with Peter is the one and only time we see such a connection between an Alpha and a Beta, I think. I mean the whole "I dream of things the Alpha did" and the whole not remembering/blacking out due to instincts and Alpha?
Also, Scott was apparently was hurt/slashed by the Alpha's claws. How come that wound was healed the next morning? I thought wounds caused by an Alpha heal slower? <.< or is that a fandom thing? <.<
I want to hug Derek. Hard. Poor boy drives to a town he got traumatized in to help his sister/Alpha where she ALSO gets killed and all those stupid teenies do is blame him for her death, for their problems and for anything else the new Alpha did - especially the other killings - so he gets locked up by the Sherrif and when he gets out that stupid pup has the gall to search him out just to - again - blame him for all of his problems and even for the death of his sister and the bus driver <.<...
On that note: I think Derek said he came to find his sister/meet his sister. To me it sounded in that moment as if he hadn't known she was dead when he arrived and that confuses me...
Also: shouldn't he also have a connection/pack bond with the Alpha if he wants to or not? Or does a pack just fall apart when the old Alpha dies until they've submitted to the new one? <.< And doesn't that mean that Derek's currently a packless Omega? <.<...
Aaand there's another horror film track shot classic that sends the camera from Derek and Scott to the outside of the Hale house where the Alpha is waiting/his eyes are glowing in the dark. ... So why didn't the Alpha go to them? Or did he just... sit there and stare at the house until Scott leaves? If the Alpha runs on instinct why didn't he try to get to Scott or Derek - especially after Scott left - when he is trying to get Scott and Derek to accept being part of his pack? <.<...
Kate drives into town without stopping and the Alpha attacks here somewhere in town. Close enough to Scotts home that he sees her shortly after she shoots her shotgun twice when the shots were what woke him up. 1) did the Alpha smell her through her car and the fumes? <.< 2) did he just stumble over her car while running through the town?? <.<... 3) if not, did he follow her from the outside into town? why didn't he attack her there instead of somewhere quieter? <.<...
I'm still confused by the whole Derek clawed Jackson in the neck and it did something to Jackson-stuff. Especially because Derek's not an Alpha yet <.<...
And finally just a quote from Derek that amused me for potential fanfic reasons when Scott asks why Derek can't just track the Alpha as a human: "Beause his human scent could be entirely different" <.<
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So I got to go to the event in Nashville last night with Samantha Shannon like I said and it was amazing I still can’t believe it happened and I’ll never forget it. And I put together some notes today from her discussion and Q&A about her writing methods and the world of The Roots of Chaos. I couldn’t remember everything, but I put together a lot of interesting/funny things she said last night that I could remember so I could share them with you all. And if you’re worried about spoilers, I will say that she didn’t share any spoilers last night that wouldn’t already be known to people who have read The Priory, though she did discuss the characters a little and a few themes of the book. So for anyone interested, here’s the notes I’ve put together!
- Shared a long discussion on drawing inspiration from St. George and the Dragon and its several retellings and the changes the Anglican faith made to enforce their colonialism and crusades (the story itself is incredibly fascinating and I don’t remember the title of the specific retelling she said she drew from in particular, but it was really cool to see just how much inspiration she drew from it)
- Many fun remarks on how St. George was awful and England sucks
- Direct quote from Samantha, talking about St. George: “Men” (derogatory)
- On creating this popular fantasy and her thoughts on the typical cishet white male dominated world of fantasy: she wasn’t creating it to challenge them exactly, but to offer something for the people who are often underrepresented in fantasy, to give them a book where they are the prominent features rather than the typical white male hero, wanted to create something where she felt she represented herself
- On giving multiple examples of motherhood in A Day of Fallen Night: she said that she thought she had given motherhood a small place in The Priory, but she wanted to really create a large space for it within ADOFN, said that growing up she always felt pressured by society that her role as a woman was to have children, and that she was never interested even when she was young, said she kept waiting for the switch to activate where she’d want to get married and be a mother but it never did (cue fun anecdote on how now she knows she’s gay so that explained quite a lot), wanted to show multiple different perspectives of motherhood within ADOFN and different methods of raising a child
- On writing ADOFN and getting the chance to work with this cast of characters: said that getting to write Glorian was her way of reconnecting with her childhood self, Dumai was also exciting for her as Dumai is the same age at the start of the book as she was when she first started writing it, Tunuva in particular was very interesting to her to represent a middle-aged woman in a long established relationship to present a counterpoint to the typical idea in fantasy where the story ends for the protagonist when they are young, she wanted to show with Tunuva that it does continue past that, and also that she wanted to make a character at this age in part for her mother, who said she felt as though she was seeing herself disappear in movies and stories as she grew older and the characters all stayed young, also mentioned that initially Esbar was planned to be a primary narrator instead of Tunuva, but Samantha felt that Tunuva would be more fresh as a character given she’s more the quiet introvert whereas Esbar is a sort of typical protagonist style, bold, outspoken, and a leader (and no spoilers, but an additional note on a character in the book; said she enjoyed writing this character realize they were gay as it felt similar to her experience; called herself as well as the character in question both “useless gays”)
- When asked about how she keeps/organizes her notes on worldbuilding, she responded that she in fact very rarely takes notes and just knows her world by memory (much to the shock of the entire audience)
- On what first inspired her love of dragons: the movie Dragonheart in the 90s, which she watched so many times as a child she could recite it word for word and once brought a tape recorder to the theater to record the audio for when she couldn’t watch it, went to see it for her 6th birthday
- Said that one of her weaknesses is numbers, she cannot keep track of the logistics in her books, (for example, if you asked how big the Abyss was, she wouldn’t know), and she mentioned that Isalarico IV Vetalda, mentioned in ADOFN, should actually be Isalarico II Vetalda
- Said she really enjoys writing books with loose ends, cliffhangers, or bittersweet endings (she apologized for this), shared anecdote of a US editor calling her a day before it went to print completely confused about Tané’s last chapter and very concerned she was actually dead at the end
- Told her editor initially The Priory would be a standalone and she wouldn’t write any more stories in the universe, editor didn’t believe her, he was right
- Her schedule of books to write at the moment is to finish the Bone Season 5 draft, research and start her Greek mythology retelling of the goddess Isis, begin work on Bone Season 6, and then start another Roots of Chaos book which she’s already sold to her publisher
- Next Roots of Chaos book hasn’t been decided yet, will either cover the events following ADOFN, in which the sterren becomes chaotic after the siden withdraws and creates a sort of ice age, or she will write the story of Kalyba, Cleolind, and Neporo (she says she’s aware that the latter is the more popular choice among her readers)
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egg-emperor · 6 months
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Since Games Eggman is your favorite incarnation (I believe so anyway lol), which version would be your least favorite if you have one? Sorry for the rather negative question, I'm just curious xD
You miiight be able to tell that game Eggman is my favorite with how my whole blog is about him and I gush about him and very strictly stick to him for character accuracy in stuff I analyze and create XD You can't get better than the original, the definitive, the character he was created to be by Sega JP. He's absolutely perfect in every single way and I kinda don't feel that any other version comes close to having everything that makes him so great intact at once like the games.
For that, I actually don't like many versions that isn't classic/modern in the games lol. I used to share my opinions on the others a bit more and my thoughts and criticisms but it made people mad and I pretty much said all I needed to say for them. And I don't really care enough to rank them since I don't really like them in the first place, I don't feel strongly enough about it.
The only versions I really care about nowadays is the game, small parts of Archie and IDW (when it feels accurate to game Eggman), X (again when it feels accurate to game Egg), Prime (if they actually used him, he has potential), and they're the only official medias I care about in general really. Not a Boom series, movies, Fleetway, AoStH, SatAM, Underground, etc fan.
Yeah, the only way I've ever liked other versions in media outside the games at all is when it still looks and feels like modern Eggman, even if it's not all the time as there can still be many personality and actions differences and I usually dislike those differences but when it feels like game Eggman then it's really enjoyable to me.
The version I dislike the least of those that I don't care much for is Boom Eggman probably. Not the hugest fan (Casino AU Egg would kill me lol) but I like him above other versions that vastly change him and he's fun to use in my AU and Egg x Egg stuff. He's funny and entertaining. It's just his very different personality doesn't click, not villain enough for me as he doesn't hold a candle to game Egg's diabolical actions.
Not sure how to rank the others. I don't really know which I dislike the most? The more different they are from game Eggman, the more I dislike them but I just tend to disregard them nowadays after realizing they're just not for me but as long as they don't replace game Eggman I don't care and they'll only come and go, so I i just mumble "that's not my Eggman" and move on.
I asked my brother what it seems like my least favorite is and he said jimbotnik. XD Probably because of my rants about how he's literally just carrey with a mustache in the first movie. He's not fat, it was hardly established why he was the bad guy in the first movie, they understand his narcissism but don't present it in an Eggman-like way, he still doesn't look or feel like him at all to me.
But I don't know if I'd say he's my least favorite because I don't feel about the others strongly enough to compare and order them to figure that out. Maybe if I refreshed myself on them I would, but I haven't seen any of them in a while and don't plan on it so we'll probably never know. I'm also done sharing my opinions on versions I don't like anyway, since it tends to piss people off a lot and I don't need the drama lol
(No problems with this ask though, I appreciate the interest for my thoughts)
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