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spencers-renaissance · 3 years

Text

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy

Summary: Spencer's gay. He joins the BAU and befriends the team, but it is 2003. It's a secret he has to keep. He just didn't expect it to be this hard.

Tags: gay!spencer, coming out, hurt/comfort, insecure!spencer, misunderstandings, angst with a happy ending, dad hotch, protective!hotch, protective!derek, childhood trauma TW: one instance of explicit homophobia, but it is referenced a lot, as is Spencer's internalised homophobia at the start of this fic. A shit ton of heteronormativity but tbh that's just canon lol

Pairing: Spencer Reid/OMC, Spencer Reid & Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid & Aaron Hotchner, The BAU Team & Spencer Reid

Word Count: 6k

Masterlist // Read on AO3

Consider this my contribution to pride month 😌 I've waited so long to post it and I'm so glad I'm finally doing it because it's definitely one of my all time favourites <3 Gideon is here somewhere but just like with all my early season fics he's not really part of the plot I combined my moreid and gen taglists bc it was hard to know the audience for this, but just ignore it if you're not interested!

you know that a boy who likes boys is a dead boy, unless he keeps his mouth shut, which is what you didn’t do, because you are weak and hollow and it doesn’t matter anymore. — richard siken, a primer for the small weird loves

Spencer has only told one person in his whole life.

His mother guessed. For as long as he can remember, she’s used gender neutral pronouns when talking about his future partner, read him all the gay literature she could find, promised him that he’s perfect just the way he is.

The trouble is that Spencer only believes her until the first grade, when Ryan Sampson shoves him over in the playground and calls him gay. His mom had only ever used that term in a sweet, loving way, taking care to associate such words with positivity, as long as his dad wasn’t around to hear. When that word comes out of Ryan Sampson’s mouth, it is not said with sweetness and love; it is said with venom, and Spencer learns quickly that his mom is wrong. He is not perfect just the way he is.

And so, he keeps it a secret. When his mom notices him getting uncomfortable at the mention of future partners, she stops bringing it up, though she refuses to give up the diverse education she provides for him outside of school. His dad tells him that one day he’ll be a strapping young man and marry a nice girl in a church, and Spencer nods along. He ignores the way his stomach turns with anxiety at the thought. Ignores the screaming match his parents have that night. Ignores the fact that it started because Diana chipped in with ‘or boy’.

He’s in high school by the time he’s twelve, and the only part he’s grateful for is the absence of pressure to get a girlfriend. His dad’s out of the picture now, and Spencer tries not to let himself think that maybe if he wasn’t like this he might have stayed. Diana’s so out of it most days that she doesn’t remember what she noticed about him when he was a child, only recalling the last few years of shoving himself so far back in the closet he can hardly see the door anymore.

It feels like he’s lost his last ally.

(He hates that a small part of him feels relieved she doesn’t remember; that he almost feels assured by the fact that the last person to know who he really is has forgotten. There is only this version of Spencer Reid now. No other exists.)

He makes the mistake during his second undergraduate degree. He’s just turned eighteen but he is already a doctor and, fortunately, this alienates him from most of his peers, but someone manages to slide past his defences. Ethan Miller is twenty, in the second year of his (first) undergraduate degree in Chemical Engineering, and he’s nice. Spencer doesn’t have a lot of experience with friendship, but they get on well and Ethan makes him laugh. For the first time, he feels comfortable in the presence of anyone other than his mother.

They slip into an easy friendship: waiting for each other after class — Spencer back in the undergraduate buildings now he has his first PhD under his belt — and going out for ice cream and pizza and Thai food. Ethan goes to parties while Spencer studies, and then they reconvene to watch Doctor Who and play cards.

For almost a year, Spencer keeps his secret carefully locked up, hidden behind the mask he’s perfected after so many years. Even though he’s eighteen, nearly nineteen now, he doesn’t try and explore that side of himself. No, that’s far too risky. He doesn’t try and pretend any other way either, he just stays silent and lets people’s assumptions lie for him, but he can’t help the longing that claws up his throat when he locks eyes with a passing guy on campus. One time, he’d seen two men kiss on a bench in the city, and he’d run back to his dorm and had a panic attack. Why couldn’t he have that?

The feelings don’t stop, and he doesn’t know how to make them. He hates that he isn’t normal, but still longs for the touch of a man, the feeling of being wrapped up in strong arms, of being kissed by dry, chapped lips, and falling asleep to a heartbeat approximately 11% slower than that of a woman’s.

It’s a constant battle inside him, emotions raging, and he struggles to control it, suppress it, tame it.

He pays a sorry price.

Ethan makes him feel comfortable, and that turns out to be a detriment. He relaxes around the other boy: he tells him about growing up as a pre-teen in a high school, about how a child feels living 260 miles away from home, even about his mother’s illness.

And one day, it slips out. They’re on the beach, lying on towels as they look up at the blue sky, talking about what their futures will look like: Ethan will be a successful chemical engineer in Berlin, and Spencer will work for the FBI, profiling serial killers.

“You’ll have to marry a German girl,” he tells Ethan. “It’ll be tough to convince an American girl to move all the way to Germany as soon as you graduate.”

“Yeah, and what about you? You’ll be off fighting crime around the country, not much of a life for a family.”

“Oh, I imagine my husband will be the type to—”

“Husband?”

Spencer freezes. It shocks him as much as it shocks Ethan. He doesn’t even pay much attention to Ethan’s disgusted face and his outraged tirade. He hears slurs and insults, hears him say that he can’t believe Spencer tricked him like this, that he was probably waiting to make a move on him, that he was never to look in Ethan’s direction again, but Spencer is frozen in time.

He’s never allowed him to think much about what his personal life might look like in the future, but he’d said ‘husband’ on instinct, without thinking, and it’s clearly something he actually wants. Ethan’s words sting, but the moment brings about a realisation Spencer is thankful for; it instigates a journey of self-discovery and self-expression, of the joy of living as your true self.

He loses his first and only friend, but he gains something much more valuable. He visits gay bars — nervously sipping a non-alcoholic drink in the corner at first, before soon becoming confident enough to respond to the men who sidle up to him and ask for his name. He lets go and dances the night away, sometimes going home with one of the many dance partners he acquires during the night, sometimes heading back to his own dorm happily alone.

Makeup and dresses and skirts and heels make their way into his wardrobe, and he befriends girls and drag queens and other gay men who encourage him to be exactly the way he is. And the best part is, he never has to come out to any of them. All of them know, and that’s good enough for everyone.

The fun comes to a sad sort of slow, however, when he joins the BAU. Everyone knows law enforcement’s relationship with the LGBT community is less than adequate — Spencer’s seen it with his own eyes: butch lesbians and men in dresses getting roughed up by angry police officers for ‘lewd behaviour’ or ‘drunkenness’ when they’re just being themselves. It’s not safe for him to tell anyone, so he doesn’t.

He still goes out with his friends when he’s in town and wears makeup and dresses and crop tops when he’s at home, but presents as rigidly straight Dr Spencer Reid to his team at the BAU.

The hardest part about it is that he loves his team. He’s known Gideon for years — and he wouldn’t be surprised if he suspects something after coming over to his house unannounced one night, only to have a man other than Spencer open the door — but he settles into a comforting dynamic with Hotch. He can’t help but see him as something of a father figure, and he knows Hotch has a soft spot for him, always looking out for him and taking him under his wing without a moment’s hesitation.

Elle, JJ, and Penelope all take a shine to him, too, teasing him without a hint of malice in their tones, only the kind of playful kindness that reminds him of his mother. He forms a special bond with Penelope and they spend hours watching Doctor Who together and geeking out on all the areas their interests overlap, and the comfort he feels with her matches the comfort he’s found with his new group of queer friends.

(She doesn’t hold a candle to Ethan, he decides one night, after he’d cried at a movie she’d made him watch and she felt so bad she made him hot chocolate and jam toast and cuddled him until he felt better.)

Derek becomes a brother to him. He puts him in a headlock at least once a day — which Spencer has been reliably informed by multiple sources is a very brotherly thing to do — and teases him relentlessly, while simultaneously being fiercely protective of him. Enough so, that Spencer sometimes wonders if he even has Hotch beat in that department.

He loves his team and his team loves him. It should be simple. It is still 2003.

He comes in one morning late for a briefing, his shirt buttoned wrong and his hair is a mess, and he’s fairly sure that his attempt to cover the hickey at the base of his neck with concealer has been ultimately unsuccessful. It’s obvious why he’s late. Gideon is too engrossed in the case file to notice, but Hotch raises an eyebrow, an amused look on his face as everyone else immediately takes to teasing him.

“Who’s the lucky lady, pretty boy?”

Elle raises an eyebrow to match Derek’s shit-eating grin, “Someone definitely got some strange last night.”

“When do we get to meet her, Spence?” JJ asks, smirking as he takes a seat.

He’s bright red — as if he needed to look any more debauched — and Spencer tries to ignore the hurt that seizes his chest at the reminder of his need to stay quiet. This team respects him, and he can’t throw that away just because Spencer gets too comfortable.

God, he wishes Penelope was here.

“None of your business,” he mutters, trying to keep his tone light. He fails.

Naturally, Hotch notices and swiftly moves the briefing on, and Spencer keeps his gaze locked on the case file, not missing the absence of a reprimand from his superior. He’s constantly thankful for the older man, but in this moment, he wishes he could hug him.

(A voice that sounds dangerously close to Ethan’s rises up and taunts him in his ear: he wouldn’t want a dirty homo like you anywhere near him—)

Derek doesn’t let up on the case, continuing to bug him about the special lady in his life. He does concede that it could’ve been a one night stand, which is one front he’s right on, but a couple more concessions are necessary before Derek comes close to the truth of last night.

Eventually, Derek stops, and Spencer notes that the cessation of comments comes suspiciously close to the last time Derek and Hotch were alone together. He doesn’t have it in him to feel angry at Hotch for stepping in when he had it handled; doesn’t have the energy to act as though his pride is wounded, because really, neither of those things are true, and he doesn’t need to add another item to ‘Spencer Reid’s List of Things He Pretends to Be.’

The situation is forgotten, and time moves on.

Things change when he finds his first proper boyfriend. He doesn’t know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the giddying rush of emotions it turns out to be, and Spencer spends his days smiling as he daydreams his time away.

His name is Oscar Wilkins, a History professor at Georgetown University, and Spencer falls quickly in love with him. Ever since their mutual friend had introduced them at a gay bar one evening, they’d spent all their free time together. He’s kind and gentle and understanding of Spencer’s hectic and unpredictable job, and he finally has the chance to experience everything he quietly and shamefully longed for as a teenager.

The only downside is the silent breaking of Spencer’s heart that the most important people in his life can’t meet his boyfriend. He longs to show Oscar off, to hold hands in front of his team, lean up to press a tender kiss to Oscar’s lips. He wants to put a framed picture of the two of them at the Washington Monument on his desk to remind him of why he needs to get through the hard days; he doesn’t want to have to sneak out of the hotel room he shares with Derek to whisper hushed, loving goodnights over the phone.

But he’s too scared. Too cowardly.

It’s different being who he is with his gay group of friends littered with wlws and drag queens and other gay and bisexual guys. They understand.

But Derek and Hotch are two extremely masculine, alpha men: Derek’s a ladies’ man and Hotch is married to a woman he met in college with a baby on the way and both have a strong and dominant energy that still sometimes manages to intimidate Spencer even after all these years. And Elle and JJ are lovely — some of his closest friends, really — but sometimes they remind him a little too much of the mean girls he went to high school with.

The hardest person to keep his secret from, though, is Penelope. She’s his best friend and he desperately wants to give her all of him, but he’s so scared. He’s lost a best friend to this secret before, and even though he’s certain she’d be fine with it, what if she accidentally let it slip to Derek? What if Hotch found out and didn’t see him in the same light anymore? What if the girls started teasing him? What if Gideon didn’t want to mentor him anymore?

The fear paralyses him. And it’s a cycle he doesn’t know how to break.

Fear, though, doesn't stop everyone from noticing his daydreaming, his dopey smile when he checks his messages, his urgency to get home where he would’ve stayed until the small hours of the morning before. As excellent as he is at hiding his sexuality, he’s fucking terrible at hiding the fact that he’s in love: it was easy enough to pretend he was straight, but hiding something this all-consuming is an impossible ask.

Derek comes over to perch on the edge of his desk one afternoon, sighing as he sits down. “Pretty boy, this is getting ridiculous,” he says, snatching Spencer’s attention away from his phone. “You’ve been grinning like an idiot for the last twenty minutes as you’ve texted Future Mrs Reid. When are we going to meet her?”

(He hates the new nickname the team has given his mystery significant other, although Oscar had found it hilarious. “It’s funny because when we get married, we’ll hardly be able to tell,” he’d argued through his laughter. “Neither of us will change our name because of our academic profiles, and we’ll both still be ‘Dr’. Our wedding rings will be the only indicator.”

Spencer hadn’t argued back, because he’d been too tongue-tied and flushed pink at Oscar’s use of ‘when’ in regards to their hypothetical nuptials. It was only made bearable by Oscar kissing him gently and tucking him under his arm, not embarrassing him any further as Spencer had sort of anticipated, warmth settling over his chest at the thought of their future together.)

“You won’t,” he replies, perhaps a little too curtly.

Derek starts at that, clearly not expecting it. He definitely should’ve tried to play it off as a joke. “What— should I be offended, pretty boy?”

You wouldn’t call me that if you knew who I really am.

“That’s up to you, Derek,” he says calmly, although he still can’t meet his eyes, “but you won’t meet the ‘Future Mrs Reid, so I think it would probably be best if you left it alone.”

“Damn,” Derek mutters under his breath, clearly pissed off and probably more hurt than Spencer ever intended. “Suit yourself.”

And with that, he gets up and leaves his desk. Spencer’s only solace is the text message he sees on his phone when he picks it back up: I love you so much. You know that, right?

The light-hearted ridicule comes to an abrupt halt after the incident with Derek, and it’s clear that he had been the biggest contributor to the teasing. He’s thankful that the jokes have stopped, but he wishes desperately that it didn’t come with the growing distance between him and his team. Loneliness takes the place of his previous irritated anxiety, and he isn’t sure what’s worse.

It all comes to a head at the end of a case in Michigan. They’re stuck in the lounge of the small inn they’d stayed in the last few days, a snowstorm having blocked them in and grounded the jet, although Gideon had long since retreated to his room. The fire’s going and they’re the only guests around, so it’s cosy enough, but Spencer can’t help but feel sick at the idea of another night away from home.

It’s only been two weeks since he’d snapped at Derek, but the chasm between him and the team is only widening with each passing day. He knows it’s not a case of ‘pick a side’, but the team’s morale relies on light-hearted banter and teasing, and him not being a part of that anymore has only brewed awkwardness. Everyone’s trying to give him space when space is the last thing he wants.

Oscar’s keeping him company over the phone at least, but it’s not quite enough to quell the loneliness swimming around his stomach, and the 'discrete' sideways looks he gets from the team only make him feel worse.

“At least it’s nice and toasty in here,” JJ sighs as she takes a sip of the hot chocolate the kindly inn owner had made for them all.

Elle hums in agreement. “There are worse places to be grounded.”

“I dunno, man, I just wanna get home,” Derek says, not taking his eyes off the fire. Spencer can’t help but agree.

“Oh, come on,” Hotch muses, considerably more jovial now the case is over, “we’re here, and that’s not going to change any time soon. We should make the most of it.”

“It’s at least nice to be somewhere sort-of Christmassy now it’s December,” Elle points out. “We could be stuck in a dingy police station like we probably will be next week.”

“Ooh, I noticed that Jemimah and Kiran started planning the Christmas party last week,” JJ says, smiling at them. “I offered my help, but they seem to have it covered.”

Hotch raises an eyebrow“That’s probably a good thing. You don’t need more work on your plate.”

“Not gonna argue with that,” she murmurs, smiling as she brings her mug to her lips again.

Spencer doesn’t miss that Derek is still stewing on the opposite side of the room.

“Are you looking forward to the Christmas party, Spencer? Will you come?” Hotch asks, clearly trying to rope him into the conversation, which he appreciates. He’s been making a lot of effort with him the past few weeks, and it’s just about the only thing that’s getting him through each day.

Before he can reply, though, Derek erupts from the other side of the room; an already pissed-off man being pushed over the edge. “He won’t even let us meet his fucking girlfriend, Hotch, he’s not gonna want to come to the Christmas party!” he yells, throwing his hands in the air as he glares at Spencer with a stormy expression raging across his face.

Suddenly, Spencer can’t stay silent anymore, and his retort shocks himself just as much as it does everyone else. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

It might be the loudest he’s ever shouted in his whole life. He’s always been quiet and restrained, the type to state his feelings as calmly as possible no matter how he’s feeling on the inside. Even in the biggest fight he’s had with Oscar, his voice was barely loud enough to qualify as a shout.

There’s a brief stunned silence, but Derek quickly slices his way through it, voice raising to meet Spencer’s fiery emotion, fierce and loud. “Oh, don’t even go there, Reid, you’re really gonna try and argue that? You’re gonna lie about her as well as not let us meet her? What a boyfriend you are.”

“I don’t! I don’t have a girlfriend!” he repeats, voice catching this time as tears rise unbidden to the backs of his eyes and all the emotions of the journey he’s taken with his sexuality over the years flood him in a wave of intensity he’s not prepared for.

“You’re fucking lying—!”

“I have a boyfriend!” he yells. “Alright? I have a boyfriend. I’m gay.”

The anger and emotion quickly dissipates, and he’s left standing alone in front of the team he’s put so much effort into hiding this from, watching shock spell out across everyone’s expressions. He’s never felt smaller than he does in that moment, and he quickly grabs his phone before running upstairs to his room, locking the door behind him.

“Oh God, Oscar, I fucked up so bad,” he cries over the phone as soon as his boyfriend picks up.

“Hey, hey, breathe, baby,” Oscar says gently, but Spencer can hear the anxious concern in his voice, “it’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m here. Do you want to tell me what happened?”

“I just— Oh God, I just told the team.” A new wave of horror rolls over him as he realises what he’s done. Times might be changing, but it’s still only 2006, and he doesn’t know each and every nuance of his team members’ political positions and, fuck, he hates that his existence is a fucking political position.

Oscar’s been so understanding of his reluctance to not tell the team, even though Spencer’s met pretty much everyone in his life. He isn’t sure what he’s done to earn such a gracious and understanding boyfriend, but he’s not about to question it.

“Baby, I know it’s scary, and I know you’re really worked up right now,” he counsels, voice soft and reassuring, using the nickname he knows Spencer loves the most to make him feel as safe as he can from 700 miles away, “but it’s probably not as bad as you think. From what you’ve told me about the team, they love you so much, and even in the case that in the past they've had some issue with gay people, I can't imagine they’d ever actually think of you any differently when it comes down to it, Spencer.”

He’s crying too hard to reply, and Oscar understands immediately, gently transitioning into a story about his day that slowly starts to calm him down, and by the time he’s wrapping it up, his tears are starting to subside.

“Thank you, Ozzy,” he whispers into the phone, lifting himself up off the floor and making his way to sit on the bed instead.

“You know I’d do anything for you, sweetheart,” he murmurs warmly. “Do you want me to stay on the phone for a bit?”

“Yes please,” he whispers again, holding it as close to himself as possible, drawing all the comfort he can from his boyfriend’s voice.

He lies there listening to Oscar’s voice and trying not to think about the disaster downstairs for a good ten minutes before there’s a tap at the door.

“Oz, there’s someone here,” he says, voice panicked.

“I think you should probably speak to them, baby,” he urges. “I’ll stay on the phone with you while you do, if you like?”

“Please.” He gets up from the bed gingerly, keeping his phone tightly gripped in his right hand as he slowly unlocks the door with his left, revealing Hotch on the other side.

“Hey, Spencer. Do you mind if I come in?”

He’s riddled with nerves, but Hotch is smiling warmly, and he’s never said a harsh word to Spencer, so he steps aside and lets him into his room.

Hotch quickly notices the phone in his hand, visibly still on a call. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Spencer nods.

“Do you mind if I talk to him?”

His brows knit in confusion and his lips part slightly in surprise, but it’s all he can do to hand the phone over, watching Hotch carefully.

“Hi, Spencer tells me this is his boyfriend?” Hotch inquires politely into the phone, his tone still warm. “I’m Hotch, Spencer’s boss.”

He can vaguely hear Oscar speaking on the other end of the line, and he worries slightly that Oscar will somehow give away the familial feelings he holds for Hotch, but the conversation doesn’t last long enough for the anxiety to really take over.

“Everything’s fine here, I just want to have a conversation with Spencer, so is it alright if we hang up and I talk to him alone for a minute? He can call you straight back afterwards.” After a brief pause in which Oscar says something, Hotch looks back up at him. “Are you okay with that, Spencer?”

He nods hesitantly, and Hotch says a quick goodbye to Oscar before surging forwards and wrapping Spencer in a hug. It catches him off guard, but he doesn’t waste any time in burying his face into Hotch’s neck and soaking in the comfort and warmth that always radiates from his father figure.

“Come on,” Hotch says softly as they pull away a good minute or so later, “let’s sit down, shall we?”

“You’re not mad?” Spencer can’t help but ask, the question burning his tongue as anxiety — however quietened from Hotch’s hug — still swims around in his stomach.

“There are many things that could make me mad, Spencer,” he says earnestly, “but this is not one of them. I would never be angry at you for being who you are, okay? I might… I might be overstepping here, and if I am, then tell me and I’ll back off, but I’ve always seen you as a mentee, and over the years that’s developed— well, I see you more as a son these days. And part of that is wanting to protect and support you no matter what you do or say or who you are.”

Spencer wastes no time in diving back in for a hug, clinging onto Hotch for dear life as he hugs back, rubbing his back gently.

“I’m so sorry you didn’t feel like you could tell us sooner, Spencer,” he says in a voice soft with affection and regret. “But I’m so glad you’ve told us now.”

He only presses closer at that, tears springing back to his eyes. “I didn’t want to lose you.” He knows what he’s implying, and even in a roundabout way, he’s glad he’s telling Hotch.

“Oh, Spence,” he sighs sadly, “you couldn’t do a single thing to lose me. I’m in it for the long haul.”

“Really?” he asks, hating how insecure he sounds.

“Really,” Hotch promises, pulling away as Spencer does. “Now, you have a whole team of agents downstairs who are feeling very sorry for themselves and really want to see you.”

Nausea rolls in his stomach and panic springs back up as he looks at Hotch, desperate for some sort of grounding. “Are they angry at me? Do they hate me now?”

“No one hates you, Spencer,” he says firmly. “I promise you that. Everyone just wishes that they’d made you feel more welcome and comfortable. We all hate that you felt you had to lock up something so integral to who you are, and we can’t help but feel we played a part in it.”

“No,” he protests — the last thing he wants is family blaming themselves when it has nothing to do with them, “it’s not your fault, it’s just…”

Hotch nods. “I understand, it’s okay. Now, do you want to go down and see them? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but it might help ease your mind to see that they really don’t hate you.”

Spencer pauses, taking a moment to think. “Can I see Derek first?”

“Of course,” Hotch says understandingly, and the comforting smile that crosses his face makes Spencer feel safe and taken care of. “I’ll send him up?”

Spencer nods and Hotch hugs him once more before leaving the room almost reluctantly. He wastes no time in picking up his phone and sending a text to Oscar. You were right. Hotch is fine. He’s just sending Derek up before I go and see the team but he says that no one’s angry and I think I believe him. Thank you, Oscar. I love you.

Not even half a minute goes past before his phone lights up with a text back. I’m so glad, baby. Call me later, okay? I want to make sure you’re okay before I go to bed. I love you more.

Before Spencer can argue that actually, he is the one more in love with the other, a hesitant knock sounds on his door. Nerves suddenly flip his stomach, and he clenches and unclenches his fists a couple of times before forcing himself to cross the room, revealing a very worried and regretful-looking Derek.

“Oh, pretty boy,” he says sadly, before crushing Spencer in a warm and tender hug. Immediately, he relaxes into the arms of one of his best friends, and relief courses through his blood at Derek’s reaction. “I am so sorry that I ever made you feel like you couldn’t tell me that you were gay or had a boyfriend. That’s completely on me. I don’t care who you love, Spencer, I just want you to be happy, okay? And if this guy makes you happy, then that’s fine by me. But if he ever lays a hand on you or—”

“Derek, Derek,” he laughs, “it’s fine I get it. Thank you, though, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier and for snapping at you in the bullpen that time…”

“I understand, Spence,” he promises. “It’s in the past, okay? And I’m sorry for pushing so hard. I mean, I’d love to meet him but if you don’t feel comfortable or you don’t want to, that’s fine, too. It’s your life, man.”

“No, I… I think I want you guys to meet him. It’s been so hard to keep him away from the people I consider my family, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Maybe after Christmas, we can all have dinner or something.”

Spencer smiles shyly. “Well, Oscar’s a great cook, so I reckon we could work something out.”

Derek grins, throwing an arm around his shoulders as he immediately jumps back into teasing him as they make their way to the door to go downstairs and see the rest of the team. “Ooh, lover boy’s got him a chef, hey? What else does this Oscar have going for him?”

Spencer chatters eagerly about his boyfriend to Derek, barely skipping a beat when he joins everyone downstairs, his friends taking his cues and joining in with the conversation seamlessly. He’s had enough fuss for one night, and the warmth and understanding on everyone’s faces tells him everything he needs to know.

“Do you have any pictures of him?” JJ asks, raising an eyebrow with eager expectancy as they all settle back into their seats by the fire, a warm and unbelievably happy feeling settling in Spencer’s stomach.

He blushes, digging out his phone from his pocket and unlocking it. “More than a few, I think.”

He finds the most recent picture of his boyfriend — a candid shot of him cooking in the kitchen, spatula aloft, and a huge grin on his face — and hands the phone around.

“Oh wow, you like them buff, huh, pretty boy?” Derek teases as soon as he gets his hands on it, and Spencer’s stomach twists in a sudden bout of fear, expecting to see some hesitancy or even disgust on his friend’s face. What if he thinks that Spencer has a crush on him? What if he’s uncomfortable around him now?

But if Derek’s having any of those thoughts, they don’t show on his face. He’s smiling widely and openly, all the pent-up anxiety and frustration borne from hurt gone from his body language, and he looks completely comfortable sat next to Spencer, his arm stretched out behind him on the back of the sofa.

They sit happily around the fire for a couple of hours, settling into a happy, intimate familiarity Spencer hadn’t realised was missing when he was hiding something so integral to his being from his family, and he’s still smiling when they finally part ways to head to bed, the clock ticking closer and closer to 1 am.

He gets ready for bed quickly, brushing his teeth and throwing on the top he’d stolen from Oscar the first time he’d stayed at his place; a welcome change from his worn and wrinkled suit. As soon as his teeth are brushed and the lights are all off except for his bedside lamp, he pulls out his phone, knowing there’s one more thing he has to do before he goes to sleep.

“Spencer?” Penelope’s voice sounds down the line, clearly concerned. “It’s almost 2 am here, are you okay?”

“I’m gay,” he says, getting straight to the point. The main reason he ever kept it from her was because of his fear of it accidentally getting out to the team rather than fear over her reaction. After all, multiple of his drag queen friends are also hers.

“Oh my God,” she says in that small voice she uses when she’s not actually talking to you, before finally actually replying to me. “Spencer, I’m so happy you told me!”

He doesn’t miss her choice of words, or the way she says them and he tilts his head suspiciously. “You already knew, didn’t you?”

She sighs. “Yeah. I’m sorry, a couple of months ago I saw a text from Oscar on your phone when you went to the bathroom during one of our Doctor Who marathons, and it wasn’t hard to figure out the relationship.”

“And… wait, you’re not mad at me for not telling you sooner?”

“Spencer! Of course not. I was waiting for you to be comfortable enough to share it with me. I felt awful that I knew without your consent but I didn’t want to tell you because I didn’t want to catch you off guard or make you feel uncomfortable. It’s fine that you waited, baby genius, I’m just so happy you told me now. What finally gave you the courage?”

“Well, it might have slipped out in front of the team this evening,” he admits sheepishly, “and the only reason I never told you was because I was scared that it would slip out somehow — accidentally, of course, I didn’t think you’d tell anyone on purpose — and now everyone knows. It’s been killing me not to tell you, Penelope, it really has because I love you so much and you’re my best friend and I trust you with my life, it’s just…”

“Whoa, slow down, Spence,” she laughs fondly, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me, I understand. But I’m glad you finally told everyone and you can be yourself completely with us, now. We all love you no matter what, you know that right?”

“I do now.”

“Good. You should get some sleep, baby boy, it’s late and you’ve had an emotional evening.”

Spencer smiles. “Yeah, I know. You should, too, Pen. I’ll see you when we can finally make it home, okay? Love you.”

“Love you, too, 187,” she says softly, and Spencer can hear the smile in her voice. “Goodnight.”

As soon as he hangs up, he settles down into the bed, turning off the light and pulling the duvet up over his shoulders before dialling one more number.

“Hey, baby,” Oscar says, voice as gentle and caring as it always is, although thicker with tiredness now. “I take it everything went okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer murmurs, already feeling tired as the safety he always feels at the sound of Oscar’s voice settles into the fibres of his being. “It went so well. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

“I can’t wait either, sweetheart. Are you in bed now?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Can you talk to me as I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you, Spence,” he says softly, before transitioning seamlessly into a story about the professors on campus, and his gentle comfort and the knowledge of the unconditional love his family has for him finally lulls Spencer into the best sleep he’s had in weeks.

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

Text

Red

Summary: Y/N has been having an infuriating dry spell in the love department lately, thanks to lockdown, and her roommate Jensen is getting fed up with her attitude. So, he lets her in on a little secret…

Pairing: Danneel x Reader Rating: 18+ Tags: female masturbation, talk of male masturbation, phone sex, dirty talk, praise kink, light degradation, lockdown was hard on singletons but great for phone sex operators Word Count: 4.5k Created for: @anyfandomgoesbingo - Sex Hotline AU | @spnkinkbingo - Tribbing

A/N: Requested by @danneelsmain - hope this lived up to your expectations babe! I haven't written Danneel before but I really enjoyed writing this ❤️

“Yes... yes... yesyesyes–”

“Hey, Y/N!” Bang, bang, bang! “Hurry up in there will ya? I’m dyin’ here,” Jensen jiggled the doorknob to no avail, and Y/N was incredibly thankful she’d remembered to lock it this time.

I’m dying here, Y/N thought to herself, pulling the shower head from between her legs with a frustrated huff, the water swirling down the drain carrying the fading vestiges of her almost-orgasm with it. She had been so close. Bang! Bang! Bang!

“Just a minute!” she shouted, frustration tipping over into anger. The knob on the faucet was twisted to the ‘off’ position with unnecessary violence, and the shower curtain was attached at one less ring than it had been half an hour ago when it was yanked open to settle against the back wall of the tub.

Bang! Ban–

“Seriously, Jensen?!” Y/N barely had the towel secured around herself before she threw open the door, hastily ducking to avoid Jensen’s knock-in-progress.

“Thank fuck.” Jensen danced around Y/N and shoved the door shut, sending Y/N slipping across the tiles on her still-wet feet and locking her on the other side. The clearly audible hiss of Jensen relieving himself leaked through the door and Y/N growled in frustration, aiming a kick at the door before stomping down the hallway to her room.

He couldn’t have waited ten more seconds…

It had been bad enough that lockdown got them all stuck at home with no possibility of one night stands, or follow-up booty calls to keep her sex drive in check, but now Y/N was having an even bigger problem. She hadn’t been able to get herself over the finish line for at least two weeks, and she had no earthly idea as to why. Y/N was beginning to think that regular orgasms were part of the reason that she was usually nice to be around, because right now she felt like she was one bad joke away from stabbing somebody.

And that someone was likely to be Jensen.

Tucked up into the corner of the couch was Y/N’s standard position these days. She wasn’t sure what was playing on the TV, something as mindless as she felt right now.

“Budge up.” Jensen hit her feet and flopped back gracelessly on top of them without giving her the chance to move them.

“Ow, asshole!” A pillow whipped through the air and collided squarely with the side of Jensen’s face.

“What is your problem lately?”

“You, clearly,” Y/N snapped, pulling her knees into her chest defensively. Jensen raised a single eyebrow, giving her a pointed look. “No, it’s not you,” Y/N admitted, letting some of her aggression seep out of her frame with her words. “Sorry.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing, it’s fine.”

There was a stiff silence between them, Jensen waiting for Y/N to break and answer his question and Y/N knowing that she didn’t want to talk about this with Jensen but not seeing a way out of the conversation. Jensen had an irritating habit of getting her to open up about things she never planned on telling people – like the fact that she was gay. And now he was about to hear far more about her sex life than she ever wanted to share with someone of the male species.

“I’m, um,” her cheeks were on fire as she glanced up to see Jensen looking back at her with concerned curiosity. “I’m… having a problem,” she finished lamely.

“Okay…”

“I can’t… Do you ever–” Y/N choked on the words every time they tried to bubble through. “So… um, it’s– it’s been a while.” She saw comprehension flash over Jensen’s freckled face a moment later.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You know PornHub has a whole section for lesbian shit, right?” Another pillow hits him in the face. “Okay, okay, ow,” Jensen rubs his jaw in exaggeration. “But seriously, it’s been a while for everyone. You just gotta take business into your own hands.”

“You don’t think I’ve been doing that?” Y/N hissed, unconsciously checking around them as if someone else was in their apartment who might overhear.

“Well then what’s the problem?”

“I haven’t like,” Y/N made a variety of nonsequitous hand motions that had no bearing on the word ‘orgasm’ but Jensen seemed to get the message.

“How long?” he cringed.

“Like, almost three weeks? And it’s not like I haven’t been trying like, everything, I just… can’t,” she shrugged helplessly. “Has this kind of thing ever happened to you? Is there something like, physically wrong with me?”

“No, no, I’m sure there’s nothing wrong with you,” Jensen rushed to reassure her, patting her leg awkwardly. “This kind of thing happens all the time.”

“So it’s happened to you too?” Hope shone from Y/N’s face that maybe she wasn’t doomed to a life empty of sexual pleasure.

“Well… no, not exactly.” Y/N’s shoulders drooped, hopes slashed.

“How are you staying so sane?” Y/N accused. “You used to be with a different girl every few days before all of this.”

“Hey! I was not,” Jensen was mock offended but Y/N could tell he was also a little proud. “And I’ve, uh… I’ve got my sources,” his eyes twinkled mischievously as he answered her question.

“Jensen Ross Ackles, have you been sneaking out behind my back!”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, “nothing like that.” Jensen pulled out his phone and started scrolling through the screen as Y/N watched.

“Jen, if you’re trying to show me porn, I’m good. Don’t need to see what you get off to,” Y/N shuddered at the thought. A text beeped on her phone a second later, Jensen’s name popping up on the screen.

“That’s my source,” he explains and she opens the message to see a 1-800 number, next to the word Red.

“Red?”

“Red.” Jensen confirmed with a wicked grin, nodding sagely.

Y/N could not believe she was about to do this. She looked down at the number on her phone screen, ready to dial as soon as she pressed the little green button. Jensen’s assurances echoed in her head. Best phone sex I’ve ever had… she actually gets off with you, she’s not just faking it… sounds so hot, and her body is killer in her profile pic. Admittedly, the picture he’d shown her had been really fucking sexy. A slender girl in small red panties and unfairly pretty breasts cradled in a satin bra covered in little hearts, dark red hair pinned up around her face in a vintage style.

Before she could talk herself out of it again, Y/N pressed dial and held the phone up to her ear. It rang a few times before connecting to an automated menu, and Y/N was secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to ask an operator if she could speak to ‘Red’.

Thank you for calling the Sugar Lips Hotline. Please enter your card details to continue.

Jensen had warned her about this part, so she had her card sitting out of her wallet on the desk in front of her.

If you know who you are trying to reach, please press one. If you would like to be assigned a random operator, please press two.

Y/N shakily pressed the number one, and then put the phone on speaker while she was at it.

If you would like to speak with Candy, press one, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Kitty, press two, followed by the pound key. If you would like to speak with Lance…

Y/N wondered if she would still have the confidence to go through with this by the time the robotic voice mentioned ‘Red’.

If you would like to speak with Red, press thirteen, followed by the pound key.

The moment of truth. Y/N entered the number 13 and then pressed the pound key. The line began to ring again.

“Hi there,” a temptingly soft voice slipped through the receiver of the phone sitting on the desk in front of her.

“Hi-i,” Y/N’s voice was jarring in comparison, breaking on the first word she uttered.

“Oh, so I’ve got a pretty little girl on the line today, huh?” Y/N didn’t know how to answer so she didn’t, hands frozen in a death grip on the sleeves of her too big sweatshirt. “What’s your name, baby?”

“Y/N,” she whispered back, suddenly scared that Jensen would be able to hear every word being said in her room. Quickly digging into her pockets she pulled out her headphones and plugged them into her cell. Why hadn’t she done that earlier?

“That’s such a pretty name, baby,” the woman cooed, and now her voice was right against Y/N’s ears; it felt like she was in the room, whispering against her skin. “I’m Red.”

“That’s what I should call you?” Y/N managed to keep the tremor out of her words this time.

“Unless you want to call me something else? I can be whoever you want me to be baby girl. Mommy, ma’am, mistress…” Y/N’s heart thundered against her ribs. She realised that she had no idea what she wanted from this – she just knew she was desperate. “Or maybe you want to be in charge? I could be your baby, your good little girl.” Y/N wished she could see Red right now, watch what she looked like as she purred all these promises down the line, teasing and tempting.

“Is,” Y/N gulped, “is there anyone you want me to be?”

“Nuh-uh,” she tutted, and Y/N could imagine her shaking her head, red curls flying by her cheeks. “This is all about you Y/N. I’m here to make you feel good.”

Y/N felt a lick of heat curl in the base of her stomach, twisting itself around her intestines.

“Yeah, I could use that,” she laughed nervously, figuring she should be honest if she wanted this to work out well. And she really needed it to.

“Oh, have you been feeling a little pent up baby?” Red’s voice echoed in Y/N’s ears. The small vibrations coming out of her earbuds were enough to start sending a pulsing sensation down the side of her neck, worming its way under her skin and into her veins. Christ, it had been too long.

“You have no idea.”

“Well, I betcha we can fix that. Are you somewhere comfortable sweetie?”

“I could get on the bed?” Y/N offered, wondering why she hadn’t started there in the first place, rather than at her desk.

“That sounds like a great idea,” Red purred seductively. “Why don’t you stretch out on the bed, get yourself nice and cozy. Maybe prop a pillow up next to you and think about me snuggling you in real close. Wish I could be there to put my hands all over your body.”

Y/N was thankful she was already sitting on her bed by the time Red finished painting her little scene because if she’d been walking, she’s pretty sure her knees would have given out.

“Fuck, it’s been so long since I felt another girl’s hands on me.” She tried not to be embarrassed at how whimpery her voice had gone. If this went well it was about to get a whole lot worse anyways.

“I want to touch every inch of you,” Red breathed heavily. “Run my fingers through your hair, over your neck, down your back. Would I find a bra there to unhook, baby?”

“Yeah,” Y/N sighed, arching her shoulders and feeling the band scratch taught around her ribs, pushing her breast up towards her chin.

“Why don’t you take that off for me?”

“Okay,” Y/N felt her voice shake as much as her hands as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra, breathing deeply when the pressure of the garment disappeared.

“Bet that felt good, didn’t it baby?” Red laughed knowingly.

“Yeah,” Y/N agreed, loosening up a little at the acknowledgement of a shared experience, something all girls could relate to. She pulled her arms through the straps beneath her sweatshirt and shimmying the discarded bra out the bottom before pushing her arms back through her sleeves. The peaks of her nipples tightened as they caught on the pills of fleece that now sat against her chest.

“What else are you wearing?”

Suddenly embarrassed she hadn’t thought to put on anything sexy in preparation for this call, Y/N didn’t manage more than an “um…” before Red laughed, a warm sound that melted into her like chocolate against your tongue.

“Why don’t I tell you what I’m wearing?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded before she remembered that Red couldn’t see her. “Bet it’s something really sexy,” she attempted to flirt, cringing at how awkward she sounded.

“Well that depends,” Red mused. “Do you like lace?”

“Yeah,” Y/N breathed. She loved seeing girls in lace lingerie; the way the delicate weave of the pattern offered small tastes of the skin it covered, the way you could feel someone’s warmth seeping through such a thin fabric so easily, the way it felt to have someone touch you or suck you through such a meagre sheet of modesty…

“What about stockings?” Red voice broke through Y/N’s train of thought, pulling her back to the vaguely out of body experience she was having.

“Love them,” Y/N answered quietly, trying to pitch her voice the way Red was, low and alluring.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she sighed dramatically. “Because I’m not wearing anything at all right now, sorry to disappoint.” Y/N couldn’t see her but she would bet anything Red was wearing a big pout right now. She wondered what her lips looked like. In her head she pictured soft and pillowy.

“You are such a tease,” Y/N laughed, hoping to disguise the pang of arousal that had shot through her a moment before.

“Yeah, but you like it, don’t you baby?”

“Yeah, I really do,” Y/N found herself admitting unconsciously.

“Are you gonna keep teasing me, or are you gonna get naked too baby girl?”

A throb of desire fluttered between Y/N’s legs, her pussy clenching, and when she squirmed back into her pillow a little she felt the lace fabric of her own panties sliding a little more between her thighs. Her arousal had started to soak out of her and into the material.

“You want me naked?” Y/N’s words scratched their way out of her throat, trying to pull her confidence along with them.

“Oh god, please baby,” Red moaned loudly, but it didn’t sound fake. It was like Jensen had told her, it sounded like she was really enjoying this, and like she was actually getting off on what was happening between them right now. “Want to feel your skin against mine.”

“I want that too, baby,” Y/N’s hasty breaths shook her words. She stripped out of her underwear and shoved her phone and headphones down the front of her sweatshirt so she could shimmy it over her head without disconnecting the earbuds. She didn’t want to miss anything.

“God, if I was there I would kiss all over you. Bet you taste amazing,” Red sighed, and Y/N could hear something shifting over the phone, like fabric moving around.

“Are you on your bed too?” Y/N asked.

“Yep, all spread out for you baby girl.”

“Are you touching yourself?” Y/N’s confidence was starting to build as she heard how much Red sounded like she’s into this, and she couldn’t deny she was turned on too. She felt wetter than she’d been in weeks, and when her fingers drifted down over her stomach its muscles twitched in anticipation of where she was about to touch.

“Where do you want me to touch?” Y/N let her eyes slide closed, and she could imagine Red batting her lashes as she asked - where do you want me to touch? - She pictured the girl she’d seen in the photo poised over her, legs straddling Y/N’s hips as Red ran her hands over her own body, fingers trailing over her throat, fondling her breasts, twisting around the pink flesh at the tips of each, lingering on the soft of her stomach before dipping lower.

“I want you to touch between your legs and tell me how wet you are,” Y/N said between deep breaths, trying to keep her voice even.

“I’m already so wet for you, baby,” Red gasped, and Y/N hoped it was a reaction to her fingers slipping inside her pussy.

“If you were here with me, what would you do right now?”

“I’d make you watch me fuck myself on my fingers.” Holy shit, Y/N couldn’t help the moan that bled through her lips, and she heard Red chuckle. “Yeah, you like the sound of that baby?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N whimpered, her own fingers finally making their way between her legs and sliding easily through the slick she found there.

“I’d straddle myself right over your face, so you could see my fingers fucking my pussy, feel me dripping on you.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“And then, when my fingers are nice and soaked, you’re gonna suck them clean like a good little girl, aren’t you sweetheart?” Red’s monologue was absolutely wrecking Y/N, she wanted everything the woman on the end of the line was describing so badly. “Want you to do it to yourself, since I can’t be there to do it for you. Can you get those fingers nice and wet for me baby?”

“Fuck, yeah, okay.” Y/N pushed two fingers inside her pussy, clenching around them wantonly. She must have let out some kind of noise because Red giggled again before she continued talking.

“That’s it, fuck yourself for me baby girl, until I can do it for you.” And fucking hell, the thought of Red actually with her, touching her, fucking her… “Your fingers nice and dirty now?”

“Mm-hmm,” Y/N squeaked, pressing against her g-spot to get herself even wetter.

“Good girl,” Red hummed. “Now suck them clean for me, Y/N. Want you to taste just how sweet you are. God, wish I could taste you too,” she moaned, her breath hitching.

Y/N obeyed Red’s instructions, sucking her fingers into her mouth and twirling her tongue around them, curling it across the dips and whorls of her fingertips. She groaned around the digits in her mouth, trying to make it audible that she was doing as she was told.

“Good girl,” Red cooed again, obviously hearing Y/N’s sucking. “Good filthy girl. You’re so dirty aren’t you baby, bet you’re dripping onto the sheets right now you’re so horny.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt her whole body clenching as she pushed her hand back between her legs, toying with her clit and sending fresh jolts of desire to her core. “Fuck, I’m touching myself again. Couldn’t help it, you’re so hot baby.”

“I want you to touch yourself sweetie. Want you to make yourself feel so good.”

“I want you to feel good too,” Y/N whimpered, maybe stupidly, but she remembered Jensen saying that Red got off with him and she wanted the same thing. She wanted to know that Red wanted her, that Red found her sexy. She didn’t want to be in this alone.

“Oh, I am feeling so good baby girl,” Red assured Y/N, her voice brimming with sincerity and whimpers to back it up. “Fucking myself so good, pretending it’s your fingers inside me.”

“Fuck, that’s so hot,” Y/N couldn’t come up with anything more eloquent than that. The more she played with herself the foggier her brain got.

“What are you imaging right now?”

“Thinking about you, you on top of me.”

“You want me on top, huh? Want me to hold you down a little, baby?”

“Mm, yeah,” Y/N sighed, slipping two fingers from her free hand down to her entrance and pushing them inside, keeping her other hand on her clit, rolling it between her fingers. “You could hold me down, grind yourself against me. Use me to get yourself off.” Y/N’s breathing was ragged now, and the fingers inside her pussy sought out her g-spot again, starting to focus their efforts a little more concertedly on the spongy bundle of nerves.

“Oh sweetie, that’s so hot, fuck,” Red moaned heavily, her breath catching on her curse. “I’d grind against you so good. Rub our pussies together, all slick and hot, grind my clit against yours nice and hard. Fuck, touch your clit for me baby.”

“I am,” Y/N gasped, drawing fast little circles over the nub between her legs. “Fuck, want all that so bad. Think you could come like that? Just from rubbing your pussy on me, getting me all wet and dirty?”

“Fuck yes, love rubbing my pussy on yours, love grinding our clits together. I could tease you so good. Go nice and slow, wonder how long you’d last before you start begging me to let you cum.”

“I’m close,” Y/N whimpered, surprised at how true it was. She hadn’t gotten so close to cumming this quickly in ages.

“Already baby? You naughty little girl,” Red groaned, and the sound of bed springs crackled through Y/N’s earbuds too. Y/N pictured Red arching off the bed, fucking her hips into her fingers. “You want to cum for me baby?”

“Fuck, yes, yes please,” Y/N begged, feeling the muscles in her thighs and stomach starting to constrict, heat singing through her veins.

“Not yet baby, keep fucking yourself.” Y/N let out a pathetic whine in protest. “You can do that for me, can’t you sweetie. Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me?”

“Yeah, yeah I am.”

“Good girl, I’m so fucking close baby.”

“Fuck, please, want you to cum. Want you to cum with me.” Y/N’s eyes squeezed tight as small pinpricks of light started to burst in the darkness of her vision.

“Gonna cum for you, baby girl,” Red cried, voice high and tight. “Fuck, I’m gonna squirt, I can feel it. Gonna squirt all over your pussy, fucking soak you.”

“Oh my god,” Y/N felt like she might actually start crying, she needed to cum so badly. She was so so so close.

“Rub that little clitty, pretend it’s me rubbing up against you. All hot and wet,” her voice was breaking, her words short and breathless, and Y/N could tell Red was as close as she was. “Gonna cum all over you. Fuck, gonna squirt so hard bet I could actually cum inside you.”

“Holy fuck!” Y/N’s hips snapped into the air, searching for the imaginary body she wished was there. It was becoming hard to hear through the intense buzzing in her ears. Every nerve in her body was pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Cum for me Y/N, c’mon baby, you can do it, want you to cum for me like the good little girl you are baby, c’mon.”

Y/N was sobbing, wrist pistoning her fingers in and out of herself faster than she ever remembered being able to move, and she felt the walls of her pussy clamping down, trying to keep the pressure inside where it wanted it. And then she couldn’t take it anymore. Everything froze. She might have screamed, but to be honest she couldn’t be too sure, because she couldn’t hear anything except the white light that had flooded the dark space behind her eyelids.

Lockdown became much more bearable after that day. Though Y/N did have to try really hard to not think about the fact that she and Jensen were kind of fucking the same girl. In a way. It was weird. But if she ignored that part, then her ‘dates’ with Red were perfect. She was finally able to release all the tension, sexual and otherwise, that this whole mess had building up in her system constantly. And eventually, the world started to open back up and things started to get just a little bit easier.

Y/N wondered what she would do when lockdown was well and truly over. When the bars and clubs opened up again, would she and Jensen go out and try to hook up like they always had before? Would everything just go back to normal? Would she still want to call Red if she was getting actual sex with a real girl, and not just her hand or a bit of silicone? Yes. The answer was most definitely yes, Y/N had to admit to herself. Even though it was just phone sex, it was still some of the best sex she’d ever had.

Well, Red is a professional, she thought to herself wryly as she spooned some froth onto the top of the cappuccino she was making. The coffee shop she worked at had reopened last week, finally.

“Y/N! Can you jump on register while I take my break?” Michelle called from the end of the counter.

“Sure thing,” Y/N smiled and wiped her hands off on her apron, making her way behind the other baristas to the cash register. She briefly glanced at the line of people waiting to order – a couple of college kids carrying some scary looking textbooks, a portly man scratching his bald patch, a pretty girl with shiny hair and awesome winged liner. Y/N blushed as she caught the eye of the girl, and immediately looked back at her tablet, typing in her register code.

“Hi there, what can I get you?” Y/N’s customer service voice was alarmingly cheery, and the two college guys blinked, startled, clearly still unused to interacting with humans again – Y/N knew the feeling, cringing internally. She made a note to dial the pep back a little.

“Hey, what can I get you?” It was the pretty girl at the front of the line now.

“Um, I’ll have a caramel latte, please,” she answered with a bright smile, red lips stretching across shockingly white teeth.

“Size?” Y/N asked, tapping the order into her tablet.

“How big can you make it?” the girl giggled, and Y/N looked up, something tugging at the back of her mind.

“Um, large?” Y/N answered absentmindedly, trying to figure out what was bugging her so much. The girl just nodded, politely accepting the fact that Y/N had skated over her joke. “Can I get a name for the order?” She grabbed the large sized cup and uncapped the marker, hand poised over the white cardboard, ready to write.

“Oh, sure. It’s Danneel.”

“Danielle?” Y/N asked, her mind still wandering.

“No, Dan– you know what, it’s a weird name. Just go with Red.”

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commander-diomika · 3 years

Text

[Image ID: Screenshot of a tumblr reply from user @weareallfromearth saying “Holy shit I would V much like to know what you’d do with ZolfWilde.” End ID]

This was in response to me tag rambling that if Alex “I don’t Actually Have That Much Experience in Courtship” Newall and Ben “I just Realised I’m Too Straight For This” Meredith don’t know what to do with Zolf/Wilde, they should hand the ship over to me.

*rubs my gay little hands together.*

I initially characterized them offhandedly as Enemies-to-Lovers but that’s not quite it, is it? On reflection I would say it’s more of an Opposites Attract situation.

Oscar Wilde, as re-imagined in the RQG universe, is a homme fatale; a dangerous, attractive man, skilled in encouraging people to underestimate him, wearing different masks, never quite being able to trust or be trusted by anyone.

There is NO personal/professional line for Wilde. He lives his work, and his work is subterfuge and interpersonal manipulation. (whether or not he started this way in his field as a journalist, or was forced to become this way by the changes in his world, is another post.) He is a person who either cares very deeply what people think of him, or is has decided that manipulating what people think of him is the way to get what he wants, and from the outside it makes no difference.

Zolf Smith does not care what people think of him. He isn’t even skilled at being kind and empathetic to people he cares about; he has no time for emotional manipulation or genuine charm. He doesn’t even have a fantastic grasp on his OWN feelings, let alone other people’s. He’s grounded, disinterested in frippery or appearances. Which is why Zolf and Wilde started out so deeply at odds with one another.

Despite the differences in the interpersonal approaches, they have plenty of common ground.

They are both deeply dedicated to a cause. They care about their work to the exclusion of all else. They are both pragmatists who have their own internal moral code, and are willing to bend or break other people’s rules in order to get the job done. They are fundamentally good people. Despite their rocky beginnings, they can respect each other because of these things.

And they might have maintained their mutually disdainful, begrudgingly respectful working relationship and that could have been the sum total... Except then the world fell apart. The Meritocratic organisation was initially compromised, then disintegrated. The blue vein plague isolated everyone and made it even harder to trust supposed allies. The Cult of Hades was on everyone’s ass making their life difficult, the other PCs disappeared off the face of the planet. Zolf and Wilde ended up in a situation where they had no one else they could trust.

Familiarity breeds contempt, but maybe if the contempt is already there, it builds Something Else. Wilde was stripped of his magic in a way that made it much harder for him to keep people at a distance and (pardon the pun) project the illusion of the debonair playboy. Zolf would have had the chance to see through Wilde’s masks, and get a better understanding of what parts of Wilde were a calculated tactic, and what was his genuine self.

Whatever betrayal transpired that gave Wilde his scar and hardened him, Zolf was privy to. He was either there and saw it happen, or he was close enough in the aftermath to see Wilde properly vulnerable for the first time in their friendship. Hell, maybe Zolf was the one who rescued him and patched him up. That was a chance for Zolf to realise that this insufferable man is a friend who he cares about deeply. At this point, he’s cared for awhile, but has been too wrapped up with his own spiritual difficulties to have space to admit that to himself.

And Wilde, oh Wilde, he’s desperate to be seen and known and loved, but he’s never allowed himself. He’s never felt SAFE to. He doesn’t let people get close, treats every conversation as a battle to be won. His safety and his power lies in being admired, but never loved. So even as trust and fondness for Zolf blossoms within him, he won’t for a second allow himself to hope that the fondness is reciprocated

With all that out of the way, this is my version of events.

Wilde is a slut (affectionate), and Zolf is gray-ace, so if there’s any bridging of that gap in terms of physical intimacy, it has to be from Zolf’s side. Giving canon a tender massage into place, that first instance of Zolf grabbing Wilde by the collar changes. (This happens on the Vengeance after Zolf has taught Wilde to steer the ship). Zolf drags Wilde down to say “I’m glad to see you perked up.” That moment now involves a whiskery kiss on Wilde’s cheek, and the man would be absolutely FLOORED by it.

I’m talking slow-mo glittering lights as Zolf stomps off blushing, unsure what just came over him; Wilde touches his cheek in bewilderment for a stretched moment before realising he’s completely agog, and he let go of the wheel for a dangerous length of time. Every interaction, every moment they’ve spent together over the last two years is flashing before Wilde’s eyes and a new context is being applied rapid fire. I’m talking the italacised oh kind of moment.

(on top of Zolf being witness to The Betrayal, throw some other moments of almost-intimacy into said flashbacks. I’m talking late nights, Zolf doing his gruff-yet-kind caretaker thing, cooking for Wilde, maybe sharing quiet and rare downtime with Zolf reading a Campbell novel on a couch in Wilde’s office)

Wilde is realising, “Oh this is allowed, oh this is reciprocated, this is possible.”

And of course they don’t talk about it, because what’s a slowburn if they immediately go and TALK about their feelings? No, the kiss goes completely unremarked upon, and Wilde continues to needle and tease and get under Zolf’s skin, except now with an added warmth in his eyes because he finally gets it. He finally understands that Zolf cares, that Zolf loves him, he’s just not the kind of dwarf that knows how to express it.

And Zolf, frustrated by feelings he can’t express but is beginning to understand, can hear the undertone of “haha, you looooove me,” shining through Wilde’s deliberate antagonism. They continue their time on the Vengeance just a little easier and closer to one another.

And we continue on to the death/resurrection arc, and Wilde’s spirit pushes for Zolf to open up about his feelings, because if not when he’s literally past death’s door, then when? When Zolf finally manages his “I need you,” it’s like a dam has broken for both of them. The second collar-grab and “We’ll go on a holiday or somethin’,” is now followed by a full kiss on the lips, not particularly erotic but passionate, (it’s the epitome of kissing someone to shut them up) and Wilde makes a surprised and delighted squeak that he would be glad he can’t quite remember when he returns to land of the living.

Once returned, Wilde might not remember everything that his spirit said or did, but he remembers the kiss. The comfort and ease that the two of them share in 179 (Eat Drink and Be Merry) is there, only instead of the two characters still being in a place of questioning their feelings for one another, it’s been answered.

Whether or not this relationship is sexual in nature is kind of up to you and what kind of fan works you like to read/write. I think there are wonderful scenes to be written an explored in many directions.

Wilde allowing himself to enjoy sex for intimacy and closeness instead of using it as a tool/ Zolf not being one for sex but Wilde’s never slept more soundly than when he’s being held in Zolf’s arms/ Zolf realising that the unfamiliar feeling he’s been struggling to express is the desire to rail Wilde til he cries/ Wilde realising that if his partner doesn’t want it from him, he’s actually quite content without sex/ The two of them being mean, antagonistic bastards to each other while fucking but Make It Kink (of the trusting and RACK kind). There really isn’t a single bad interpretation.

So really, I’m not doing anything different with them other than reading between the lines, giving canon a little nudge, and sticking the landing. This isn’t to disparage the concept of queer platonic partners. (I’ve got one!) or to talk shit about Ben or Alex (I DO respect their craft).

It’s just to say I find these two characters , and everything they’ve been through, PAINFULLY romantic, tropey, and delightful. I’m looking forward both to how Ben and Alex play the QPP, the fanworks I’m gonna read and hopefully write, and the inevitable tragedy that you KNOW Alex is gearing up for.

#zoscar #zolfwilde #RQG #rusty quill gaming #zolf smith #RQG Oscar Wilde #hank talks #rqg podcast #rqg meta #feel free to reblog #and to talk to me about it

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stanzoeywade · 3 years

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Tiptoe - Poppy x MC

Taglist: @somewillwin @uhh-the-green-thing @jmojellybae @simp-pony @made-me-deep-blue @uselesslesbianfr @it-lives-in-braidwood-manor @belvoiresqueenbee @alexlabhont @samanthadalton @crazzyplays @sparring-hyena @baexpoppy @cloakanddaggerthings

Summary: Poppy and MC meet in summer and they were dating but broke it off, not related to free falling dhaisja don't ask about ch3 idk either.

A/N: uhm hi I've been a ghost for like months lol but I heard from a little birdie that queen b is coming back in September and I'm so ready to clown for my wife Poppy again. Based on song below which is a bop. I also did not check my spelling or grammar I die like a dumbass. My one braincell would like to thank u all and Gabi for this fic 💗

There's hardly anything in this world that captivates you, until you see her. Her flawless skin, her blonde hair and those deep chocolate orbs that you just want to stare at and drown in forever. Who knew such a beauty existed? It boggles you to know that the Min-Sinclair heiress is perfect. One might say that you're jealous but deep down you know that's not the case. Jealousy? No, it's not jealousy, you're enthralled by her. It's not even because of how fucking gorgeous she looks, it runs deeper than that. There's just this weird sense of kinship that you feel when you look at her. She's more than the ranking, she's vulnerable and actually cares, something you saw when you went to the animal shelter.

The way her eyes sparkled when she saw the rescue animals, the way her mouth curved into that gentle smile. Who knew the queen bee of Belvoire had a heart? Her vulnerability is further shown when you realise that the golden girl of Belvoire has her own scars, her pride a by-product of the hurt caused by family and so called friends.

Having seen the forefront of it all, Belvoire is cutthroat. Everything matters, the clothes you wear, your family name. It's a free for all, no one cares who gets burned, low blows exchanged, it's all a big mind game and those who fall under pressure lose not just their reputation but everything they have worked for. But apart from all of that, she's still the first thing that makes you smile.

It's damning, the way your mind and heart races at the thought of Poppy. The way her eyes light up when she flashes that gentle smile, where one look is all it takes to make your knees weak and the blood rushing up your cheeks. You've never seen such a beauty, her smile is like a soft ray of sunshine, warming you up. However, she's also as mysterious as the moon, especially since she acts so sweet and the next minute she's as cold as ever. It's enough to give you whiplash.

Such gentle and delicate features, yet her personality is as fiery as the sun, I guess it's true what they say, the sun is beautiful yet staring at it can become painful.

It's confusing as to why Rosie's fallen so hard for Poppy, they've been rivals from the start, with each other's goal to come out on top. Things have definitely changed after the night they slept together, Poppy's words have no actual bite to them. If she were brave enough Rosie would've called Poppy out on it, but she's so confused on where they stand that she doesn't want to risk this newfound "friendship" if one can even call it that.

It suddenly hits Rosie like a brick. 'Wait, has Poppy been courting me in her own weird way or am I imagining shit?' She becomes more confused as Poppy seems to stare at her longer than she ever did, sometimes Rosie would meet eyes with Poppy who seems to have a longing stare as if she has so much to convey yet has no courage to do so. Sometimes it gets to the point where Poppy blushes after she realises that both of them have been staring at each other for too long. Both of them being a flustered and blushing mess, looking away as if they've been burned from getting too close to a fire.

Most people in Belvoire would argue that its not longing and wistful glances that the two are exchanging, they'd say that those were intense glares formed from the ongoing rivalry that the two have established in public, but anyone who personally knows Poppy and Rosie would say differently. There's also an ongoing bet between the students of the school. Some argue that Poppy and Rosie are secretly dating whilst the rest argue that they absolutely loathe each other and the ongoing stares are to intimidate each other to give in and leave Belvoire.

Zoey and Veronica are secretly in cahoots in which they bet that the two are definitely dating or in Veronica's words "those two are definitely fucking" which earns her a fond smile as well as a roll of the eyes from Zoey. Chloe suspects something between Poppy and Rosie, considering they genuinely don't seem to put energy behind the insults they throw at each other. She doesn't think that the two are lovers but she definitely thinks that they're secretly friends.

It's not until Veronica sees Rosie wink at Poppy when she thought nobody was looking, and she was certain that the blonde would glare at Rosie but imagine her surprise when Poppy flirts back by winking back. In which she's all too excited to text Zoey about. "Omfg bitch, you won't believe what I saw today, like holy fuck the two gays were flirting when they thought no one was looking." All she gets in response from Zoey was "show receipts pls."

Rosie can feel herself falling for Poppy, both of them know that things have changed. Neither seem too interested in fighting and when they do argue, it's all for show, after all no one knows that they're secretly pining after each other. She suddenly remembers how they met.

-Flashback-

Being relatively new to New York, Rosie was eager to meet new people and what better way to start off than hooking up with strangers from a random bar? After all, the city was big and it's been a while. As soon as she arrived someone immediately caught her attention. One Poppy Min-Sinclair, dressed to the nines, she was definitely Rosie's type. Not really expecting anything Rosie struts towards her, in hopes of beginning a conversation.

At first Poppy seemed uninterested, scoffing and she felt a presence near her. She didn't really want to deal with anyone considering they're usually just random guys who wanted to hook up in the bathrooms or worse they're drunk as fuck trying to flirt with her. However, imagine her surprise when she looks at the person that dared to sit by her. Poppy would be lying if she said that the girl in front of her wasn't her type. She seemed sweet, and had a gentle smile. It was also a bonus that the girl seemed to know how to dress herself.

When their eyes met, there was this lightning spark that just fit into place, the two had chemistry. It was undeniable, the two just knew how to push and pull. The banter was there, so was the attraction.

Poppy wasn't shy about showing her attraction, obviously checking Rosie out, which earns her a low chuckle from the other girl. "At least buy me dinner first before you undress me with you eyes?" said Rosie with mirth dancing around her eyes, whilst Poppy just laughs, soft and languidly slow. At which point Rosie knew she was screwed, the blonde in front of her looked like she just walked out of the runway, and her laugh was definitely something Rosie wanted to hear more of.

She's pulled out of her epiphany once Poppy speaks, voice sultry and pulling Rosie in like a siren. "My name is Poppy Min-Sinclair, and I do what I want sweetheart." The confidence she exudes is shown in her voices. It's addicting the way the blonde presents herself, every move calculated and poised. Every word that leaves her lips is deliberate and elegant in her own unique way. If she was in her right mind, Rosie would've been terrified by how enraptured she was by this girl in front of her.

Rosie wasn't one to back down from a challenge therefore she decides to tease the girl in front of her. "Is your name supposed to be important? I've never heard of it. Anyways, since you've introduced yourself so nicely, my name's Rosie." Poppy just raises an eyebrow at her semi-surprised that the other girl hasn't heard of her. "Sorry babe, the whole world doesn't revolve around you." said Rosie with a cheeky smile and wink and before Poppy can retort Rosie finishes off by saying "but it definitely should revolve around you, I mean look at you, you're mesmerising."

If it were any other person, Poppy would have definitely rolled her eyes and walked away, but Rosie seemed to mean it. The other girl definitely looked like she wore her heart on her sleeve, and it was just so damn endearing that Poppy, against her usual M.O., she decides to stay and talk to the other girl. 'She looks cute enough, but if she's gonna be annoying then I'll just ditch her later.' thought Poppy.

Both women were intrigued by each other, and one thing led to another. Before they knew it they were together in a hotel room. Neither of them cared about who made the move first, all they knew was that they had to have each other one way or the other.

Despite her pent up desire and lust, Poppy still cared about her reputation, after all even if she was on break it didn't mean she can be careless, plus she didn't exactly want to expose Rosie to Belvoire's dirty laundry, the girl seemed nice enough and Poppy wasn't about to mess with this girl. Sure she's a fucking bitch but that doesn't mean she wants people to suffer because of her unless they've wronged her or any of her friends in some way. She's petty but she's not that petty.

God knows Belvoire is a shithole.

They're definitely closer than what should be conceived as acceptable, considering Rosie is literally one step away from kissing Poppy. Not like either of then cared considering they were too focused on each other to pay attention to their surroundings. It's only when the bartender coughs that the two pull away from each other as if taken out of their seemingly lulled state.

Rosie's about to say goodbye, considering the blonde seems like she's torn between leaving or staying, but she's caught by surprise when Poppy yanks her arm back. "Where do you think you're going, little lamb? I didn't say I was done with you yet." The way it was said was enough to make Rosie shiver. The way the Min-Sinclair heiress said it so confidently, it didn't help that she looked to be the epitome of lust and desire at that moment, but from then on Rosie knew she was fucked, both literally and figuratively.

Before she knew it she was pulled into a car headed to the nearest luxury hotel, which just so happens to be a presidential suite at The Ritz. Rosie didn't show but she was shocked. She knew the girl was rich, I mean come on her clothes are fresh off the runway and the blonde exuded power and wealth. But this was like a bucket of ice water being dropped on Rosie's head, this was definitely something she wasn't expecting.

NSFW AHEAD

She's taken aback by the inside of the hotel suite, she expected it to be fancy, but nothing could prepare her for the plush king sized bed, as well as the overall layout of the room. It looks like something straight out of an IKEA magazine, Rosie can't help but think.

"Well, are you just going to stand there or are we actually going to fuck?" says Poppy. Rosie is taken aback from how bluntly Poppy put it. Speaking of which, the blonde girl is already half way through removing her clothes. She couldn't help the gasp that escapes her as she gawks at Poppy and the way her body looks so perfect, unblemished milky white skin that looks so soft, all Rosie could think of is leaving marks in her wake. She licks her lips in anticipation as Poppy gives her the come hither gesture, and Rosie is immediately lured in, like a moth drawn to a flame.

Her hands immediately raise up, helping Poppy out of her clothes, until all that remains is Poppy's underwear. Her eyes scan Poppy's body and out of the corner of her eye she can see Poppy's satisfied smile. Rosie is pulled in, her body pulled in flush against Poppy. Her eyes dart over to Poppy's lips as she leans in to kiss Poppy. A hand covers her mouth as she hears "Not yet Hughes, it's unfair if I'm the only one in my underwear."

Rosie's ears are definitely bright red at this point and she's pretty sure that her whole body is flushed, but she gives Poppy a show as she takes each article of clothing slowly, piece by piece as if testing Poppy's already short patience. As she takes her blouse off, Poppy's staring at her so intensely she can feel her legs wobble. The look conveying an unspoken promise. It's enough to make her a little self conscious, but her confidence is regained as soon as she sees how flushed Poppy is. It also helped that she saw Poppy gulp, looking at her like she's the only thing in the world. "See something you like, Min-Sinclair?" she can't help but tease and the blonde rolls her eyes.

"You were doing so well until you started speaking. Just get your ass over here. I'm not used to waiting for things I want." said Poppy. Rosie struts over to Poppy.

She's immediately back at Poppy's side, the Min-Sinclair heiress looking her up and down which makes Rosie nervous as the way Poppy stares is intense. Her doubts are quickly quelled as she's soon tugged harshly the collar. Poppy pulls her in roughly for a kiss, as their tongues dance and weave against each other, battling for dominance. They both step forwards towards the bed, and the noises that come out of Poppy is irresistible and music to her ears. She sounds incredible and Rosie can't get enough and with a flick of her tongue Poppy is putty in her hands.

They both fall towards the bed, Poppy ending up under Rosie. They pull away quickly to catch their breath, and Poppy's eyes are blown so much so, her pupils are dilated like a cat ready to catch its prey. Her lips parted and bruised, taking in oxygen as if all of her breath has been taken away. If Rosie thought she was in charge, she's got another thing coming. Their position is switched, as Poppy expertly flips them over, landing her on top of the other girl. Rosie ending up with her back against the bed as Poppy straddles her. "You're a good kisser, Hughes." she says and Rosie smiles mischievously "I try." she replies.

Poppy's quick to kiss Rosie again, as if she's her only lifeline teetering her to the world. Every kiss shared feels like sparks flying, the intensity and passion leaving them both breathless. It's not like Rosie's gonna give in and let Poppy top her, she quickly pull Poppy by the waist, bodies completely flushed against each other before rolling over so that their position is once again switched. This time Rosie comes out on top.

Before the other girl can complain, Rosie's quick to shut her up but trailing kisses from lips to her neck. Poppy smells like fresh cherries and vanilla, which for some reason is very fitting. After all cherries are sweet but the fruit itself can be dangerous, however there's a hint of danger. After all cherries do have cyanide in the seed. The whimpers and moans that come from Poppy's mouth are sensual and spurs Rosie on even more. She can't get enough of the blonde.

She can feel Poppy's nails taking across her back, and she's sure that those are definitely going to leave marks, not like she minds considering she's too far gone from the sound of Poppy's moans and whimpers.

Rosie looks at Poppy and she can't help but admire how beautiful Poppy looks under her, eyes half lidded and chest heaving. "You look better when you're quiet, Princess." said Rosie, but instead of reporting Poppy just pulls her back in and their lips are clashing against except this time its rough. Poppy pulling and tugging at her hair, while leaving small nibbles on her lips. Rosie knows that her lips are going to be all sorts of red and bruised the next morning.

Rosie's hand finds their way to the waistband of Poppy underwear, and she can feel the wet patch. She slides her hand inside and moves her fingers to find Poppy's clit, where she rubs small circles, and she feels the blonde jolt from the sudden contact and Rosie is about to apologise until she hears Poppy's breathy moans. "I swear to god, if you stop I'm going to fucking kill you." whimpered Poppy.

Rosie just smiles against Poppy's skin as she continues teasing Poppy until the other girl is a panting and whimpering mess. "I need your fingers inside me Hughes, stop fucking around and actually start fucking me." It's said so desperately Rosie finally grants the blonde her wish and starts pumping her fingers in and out until the blonde cums, back arched away from bed and a loud and filthy moan is all the can be heard. Rosie helps the other ride out her orgasm by cooing gentle words and leaving kisses that are definitely going to leave marks on the Poppy's unblemished skin.

-NSFW END-

-FLASHBACK END-

The casuak hook up turns into dates and outings, and both of them start to catch feelings for each other. As much as it surprises Poppy she genuinely enjoys the time that she spends with Rosie. The other girl always making sure to make Poppy smile. It doesn't help that Rosie had this weird way of knowing when Poppy was upset or stressed in which she'd always do something to help the blonde feel better. Rosie's become a constant, a home away from home in a sort. Always there even on Poppy's worse days, not giving in even when Poppy's relentlessly cruel and bitchy. If she weren't so fucking smitten Poppy would have thought that Rosie was a Saint considering how patient she is. However, she refuses to confess her feelings to the other girl first, after all she's a Min-Sinclair and they don't confess ever. People confess to her.

They're both stubborn, therefore they both refuse to even acknowledge their budding feelings for the other. Though there have been too many times where Poppy has gotten jealous when people stare too much at Rosie, though it's reserved and usually subtle. Poppy quietly stakes her claim by always having some sort of physical contact with Rosie. It could be something as simple as a hand on Rosie's forearm or wrist. But the real warning comes from her passive aggressiveness when others get too close to Rosie or the glares that are given if anyone is dumb enough to try and flirt with the other girl.

It's not like Rosie is any better. Whilst Poppy is subtle with her jealousy, Rosie is not. She's always quick hold Poppy's hand as if to signify that the blonde is hers and it's even worse if anyone ignores that. She becomes more physically affectionate. She hugs Poppy as if her life depends on it. There's also been a few times where if Rosie's patience was tested she'd get really jealous and the next time they're intimate she always leaves marks where no one but her or Poppy knows. It's also when she becomes quite dominant in the bedroom and it genuinely entertains Poppy so much so it's become her second favourite past time. The first definitely being their intimate moments.

It gets to the point where both of then get so frustrated they confess how they feel that the same time, which becomes one of their inside jokes considering they both felt like idiots for not confessing their feelings sooner.

However, it's not like summer lasts forever and both of them end up breaking it off, since Poppy actually likes Rosie and she refuses to put her through the shit that goes on in Belvoire. "It was fun while it lasted, Hughes, but I'm sorry. I have to go back and I'm not sure I'll ever see you again." said Poppy, voice cold as ice as if the whole thing didn't matter. Poppy would be lying if she said that it meant nothing, considering she's never been happier. The other girl definitely had a special place in her heart but as they say if you really live someone you have to let them go. She might be cruel but she's not about to fuck Rosie's life up by involving her in the stupidity of Belvoire, she deserves better. Maybe after unibersity she can find Rosie and they can try again.

Rosie's quite sure that she's never going to find anyone that makes her feel the way Poppy does, but she's not one to make things more complicated. "I'm glad I met you Poppy Min-Sinclair, it's been fun while it lasted. Maybe someday we can meet each other again."

Imagine her surprise when it turns out that Poppy attends Belvoire, both of them shocked to see each other again. The only difference being that Poppy seems much colder than the one she met before. Her eyes didn't have that shine or hint of mischief. It looked too detached. "What are you staring at?" said one of the girls following Poppy. Her eyes widened in surprise as the person her roommate Zoey warned her about was Poppy. She's barely acknowledged by Poppy as she just walks away without a word.

Things start to get more complicated as both of them are put against each other, as they compete for the top spot. It's not like Rosie really cared about the fucking thing, in all honesty she didn't even want to compete with Poppy but it's not like she had a choice considering no one cared that she didn't want to compete with Poppy. It gets to the point Rosie avoids Poppy altogether, not really wanting the unsolicited drama with the other girl.

It becomes even worse when rumours start that th reason why the two girls avoided each other like the plague was because Carter was cheating on Poppy with Rosie, and this gets blown out of proportion during the football game in which the screen shows a poorly photoshopped photo of Rosie and Carter kissing.

The way Poppy looked at Rosie broke her heart. Poppy looked tired and upset. She looked like she was betrayed and worse of all the look was directed at her. It's made even worse when Poppy wordlessly looks away, tears on her eyes as she runs to get away from the stadium.

Things change when Rosie chases after Poppy. It's the first time she sees Poppy cry, and it breaks her heart because how can she be so foolish. This was the person she fell for, and it sucked because she was the reason why Poppy was upset.

She approaches Poppy carefully, and as soon as she's noticed. Poppy's eyes narrow into a glare. "What do you want Hughes? Haven't you done enough already?" she yells, her voice full of venom. The words sting, but Rosie marches on, as she apologises. "I know I'm the last person you want to see, but I wanted to say I'm sorry. You didn't deserve all of that." She reaches out to try and comfort Poppy but she stops as remembers that she's the reason Poppy was crying in the first place. They both stand there in a tense silence, both not wanting to speak until they both say something at the same time. "Why didn't you tell me that you go to Belvoire?" they both say in sync.

Rosie lets Poppy speak first. "If you said that you were going to be attending Belvoire, maybe things would have been different." she says and this catches Rosie's attention. "Different how?" she asks and Poppy looks at her eyes softening as she says "I would have admitted that I was falling for you."

That's how they got back together.

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padsnprongs · 3 years

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this is for @anythingforour_moony’s writing competition!!

Prompt: “Who ate my pudding??”

If there was one thing that Remus Lupin loved more than life itself, it was chocolate. Chocolate bars, chocolate cake, chocolate pudding, you name it, he would eat it practically inhale it. Not only would he gulp down anything with the slightest trace of chocolate, he would hoard it. He had secret stashes hidden all over the school. Throughout his five and a half years at Hogwarts, his stashes had remained undiscovered.

Or so he thought.

Without his knowledge, one silver-eyed, mischievous Sirius Black had discovered his little secret months ago. Actually, if he was being honest, he found it rather endearing. The image of one Remus Lupin, engulfed in that adorable green sweater of his, tawny curls falling onto his face, amber eyes gleaming with that enchanting golden tint that Sirius often found himself mesmerised in, happened to be the main source of Sirius’ serotonin regardless, but adding that to the image of Remus Lupin, curled up with some chocolate from his secret little stash, perfectly content, was even more adorable, if that was at all possible.

Yeah… Sirius would really have to do something about this crush of his.

And so, Sirius hatched a crafty scheme: he would steal Remus’ chocolate from his stash. Not to eat! Oh lord, no. Maybe just to hide for an hour or two? At least until Remus noticed it was gone, which surely wouldn’t take long; the guy was obsessed. Once Remus had figured out that Sirius had stolen his chocolate, he would probably be rightfully mad. And then he would hopefully start spewing something about morals and boundaries or something. And maybe that, in turn, would help Sirius see that maybe being with Remus wasn’t all he’d thought it up to be, and maybe this silly little crush of his, could finally come to an end. Sirius’ main aim was just to find a way to make Remus mad, and stealing his chocolate was apparently the best way to go about that.

The plan may have been long-winded and, frankly, ridiculous, but Sirius was desperate. He couldn’t go on like this – just being in the same room as Remus was enough to give him the complexion of a tomato, and surely someone would notice that soon? It was too risky; no one could ever know.

Little did Sirius know just how hard he had fallen.

That was how Sirius found himself sitting in the common room, absent-mindedly watching Peter try desperately to Vanish a table, and James hurriedly scribbling a Potions essay. However, the only thing he could concentrate on was the fact that Remus had just disappeared into the dormitory and was bound to discover what he had done any second now.

Not long after, his suspicions were confirmed. He heard the dormitory door slam, the sound echoing through the tower, followed by the sound of footsteps crashing down the stairs. Remus skidded to a halt at the bottom of the staircase. Sirius’ mouth was dry with anticipation; he could feel his heart about to burst through his ribs. He had no idea what Remus’ reaction would be, but he was notorious for being incredibly overprotective of his chocolate.

Sirius did not fancy his chances.

Remus was annoyed, to say the least. He had had a particularly good day, so imagine his disappointment and frustration when he hurried towards his trunk, only to find that the chocolate pudding he’d been eagerly looking forward to all day, had disappeared. And Remus knew he hadn’t misplaced, or already eaten, the pudding. There was only one possible explanation. One of those three idiots had eaten it. He wasn’t as angry as he could have been, mostly because he genuinely had had a great day, but he was irritated, nonetheless.

That was how Remus found himself storming down to the common room, ready to have a serious conversation with his friends about respecting boundaries. However, not everything goes to plan. When Remus reached the bottom of the staircase, his gaze landed on one Sirius Black. Remus, as so often happens, was mesmerised by the grin which seemed to light up any room, the eyes which seemed to be swirling in the ocean depths, and the hair which seemed to catch the sunlight, shimmering with the slightest movement. Sirius’ charm was infuriatingly distracting, and Remus couldn’t help but to lose himself in those breathtakingly bright eyes, which were gleaming like the moon.

Come on, Remus, snap out of it. Feeling his face start to heat up, Remus took a deep breath. There was a more important matter at hand.

“Alright, which one of you was it?”

“What’s up, moony?” James replied without looking up.

“Who ate my pudding??” Remus narrowed his eyes at the three boys and seemed to notice Sirius’ eyes widening. As he watched, Sirius ducked his head behind those glistening curls of his, refusing to meet Remus’ gaze. This was unusual only in that the other two boys had looked up at the mention of Remus’ chocolate. It was the reaction of a guilty person. Remus knew it, Sirius knew it, and he was pretty sure James and Pete had also figured it out.

‘Sirius?’

‘Hmm?’

Sirius still refused to meet his eyes, which only made it all the more obvious that he was guilty.

Remus waited expectantly, hoping that Sirius would say something; this was awkward enough as it was. Finally, Sirius glanced up.

‘Erm… I’m just gonna go take a quick shower… yeah, I haven’t had one since quidditch practice…’ Sirius stood up hastily, but found his way blocked.

‘Sirius Orion Black. If you have done what I think you have done,’ he warned under his breath, enunciating every syllable to ensure the message was crystal clear, ‘I will send you straight to Filch’s office myself, and tell him what really happened in the girls’ toilets yesterday. You can’t fool me.’

Sirius gulped. Although he was aware that he was currently in deep, deep shit, a part of him desperately wanted to make a ‘straight’ joke in reply to Remus’ threat. However, Sirius felt that may not bode well with the fuming werewolf, who was currently glaring into his soul. So, instead, he did the only reasonable thing he could think of; he ran. Scanning for all possible exits and realising the portrait hole was blocked by a giggling group of girls, he sprinted straight for the stairwell. Taking the steps three at a time, his heart pounded nervously as he heard Remus in close pursuit. He slammed open the dormitory door with enough force to make it rattle in its hinges and dived for his bed. Rolling across the bed, Sirius fell through the drawn curtain on the other side and landed on his feet. Although he personally felt that this was a move worthy of James Bond himself, there was no time to dwell, because he had probably pissed Remus off even more, if that was possible.

Speaking of Remus, Sirius had no idea where he’d gone. He could swear his pursuer had been mere footsteps behind him moments ago. Narrowing his eyebrows, he approached the dormitory door cautiously, when, out of nowhere, Remus barrelled around the corner, straight into him, and rugby tackled him to the ground. Winded from pure shock, Sirius could do nothing but flail desperately as Remus wrestled him onto his back and pinned his wrists above his head.

Suddenly, all the anger and all the panic evaporated. Their faces were mere inches from each other, and Sirius could hardly breathe. Remus was staring into his eyes, and Sirius noticed how the amber seemed to darken and his pupils seemed to expand.

But he had no time to think, because he could feel his heart pounding faster and faster, even though he had stopped running. He would have guessed that it was because of the pure intensity that comes with someone laying on top of you, pinning you to the ground, and staring deep into your soul, seemingly getting lost in your eyes, but his brain could barely comprehend what was happening.

Wait. No. That pounding he had felt? That wasn’t his heart. That was Remus’ heart. What? Why would Remus’ heart be beating faster? Shut up. Suddenly, Sirius became hyper-aware of Remus leaning closer to him.

‘Erm…’ he managed to mumble, now oddly self-conscious of how his breath smelt.

‘Tell me to stop.’ Remus whispered, so softly that Sirius could barely hear. Tell me to stop what?? What does that even mean?? What is he doing??

Remus was now so close that their breaths were mingling, and if Sirius moved slightly, he could probably have brushed their noses. Why the hell would I move slightly?? Are you crazy?? Let’s just see what he does.

And Sirius barely had time to process what happened next, because Remus’ lips curved into a soft smirk, no I am not watching his lips thank you very muc- HOLY SHIT, and then they crashed against his.

Remus’ lips. Crashed against Sirius’ lips.

Sirius’ nervous system was going berserk, his brain was short circuiting, and all he could think about was every point where Remus was touching him.

Time seemed to slow down; everything else faded away until it was just him and Remus.

Remus’ mind had a similar reaction. He swore he could see fireworks behind his eyelids and, despite his nervousness at initiating the kiss, what if I misinterpreted it?? I’ll literally ruin our whole friendship!! Ah you know what, fuck it, he ate my pudding, we don’t have a friendship anymore, those few moments were possibly the best of his life. But then, if it was possible, those moments grew even better; gradually, as they both got over their initial shock (and, let’s be real, a little bit of *gay panic*), they relaxed into the kiss. It turned away from passionate and hungry, and more towards comforting and slow.

Sirius’ intestines seemed to be fizzing and twisting, his fingers tangling themselves in those golden curls that he was so incredibly crazy about.

Well, he thought, that’s my plan gone to shit.

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pridewhatpride · 3 years

Note

omg pls talk more about GX rival shipping once the transfer students come

Dear anon, I love you for asking this of me, but I have to wonder if you want everyone who follows me to start hating me.

Long post coming up? You know it. I apologise to all Johan fans, he's great and I loved him and his deck as a child. Now I'm just salty because he's too perfect. Warning because this is a mess of unrequited feelings and it's an all around bad time if you ship anything in gx. I did mention I do not practice self care in a previous post of mine. Enjoy your pain c:

So here are my bad takes of the day, under the very handy cut!

You see, gx rivalshipping becomes a lot more complicated and angsty when the transfer students arrive. The dynamic changes. If there is a dynamic at all. I mean, imagine yourself in Manjoume's shoes. You've lowkey had a crush on this dumb guy who kind of ruined your life (but actually improved it and freed you from the restraints your family imposed on you), just to watch a handsome scandinavian dude who is a lot more muscular than you are and maybe a little bit nicer, maybe just waltz in and completely captivate said dumb guy's attention. Just when you had managed to admit your own feelings to yourself.

Johan comes in and steals the room, everybody loves him, he's good looking, charismatic, kind and has a magical exclusive shiny sparkling deck at his disposal that he uses as if it was the most natural thing in the world, like he hadn't received approval Pegasus himself on top of the duel spirits. And Judai clearly can't get enough of it, because he's always seeking him out, ever since the duel they had in front of everyone, and Manjoume finds that he's really annoyed by it. He wishes he'd been chosen for the demonstration, deluding himself into believing that if he'd won, Judai would have never started caring so damn much about Johan. But a part of him knows he would have probably lost and that even if he hadn't, Judai would have not cared about the outcome at all. It's nice to think that winning a card game can solve all your problems, but, while Manjoume has only ever experienced how much losing one can mess with your life goals, he isn't stupid enough to think that winning would grant him happiness. Not anymore. No well-thought-out strategy can rid him of his bad temper and his worthless pride.

The thing is, he can't really hate Johan, because nobody can hate Johan. He's just the perfect picture of everything Manjoume isn't and, going by everyone's reaction, the fact that 'everyone is unique in their own way and worthy of love' is absolute bullshit. There clearly is an objective better one of the two and Manjoume is very aware that he isn't it. And he'd probably begrundgingly be cool with it, after all he'd accepted that Jaden was braver than him, that Asuka was emotionally stronger and more resolute, that Daichi was smarter, not to mention how much plain better than him his fomer upperclassmen were. Forget about pros like Edo, whom Judai had stood on equal grounds with. But Judai is clearly playing favourites, too, hell, he hardly even acknowledges Manjoume.

He finds himself forcibly removed from his already shaky position as rival, because now Johan is there to take it up, on top of the titles of 'best friend' and 'emotional support and crutch' and 'maybe something else I'd really rather not know'.

Manjoume just generally hates it all. He might have changed and improved himself, but there is no saving him from the fact that some people were just better. That doesn't stop him from trying. But again he finds himself pitted against Judai, the irony of his fate never giving him a moment to rest. Manipulated and turned into the enemy of those he cares about, again.

A part of him despises how good it feels to learn that Johan has gone missing, but Judai is screaming like his arms have been torn off and while he hates that it's all for Johan, he hates that Judai is in pain even more. Judai had saved him before and it's only right for him to return the favour. So he insists on helping him on his stupidly risky plan to save Johan. And it's all to get the old Judai back.

...The rest, from Manjoume's perspective is a mess. His feelings of anger stem from the hatred he harbours towards himself and the bond between Judai and Johan. He'd been trying to help, he had, he sincerely had, but everything just swirled together and the next thing he knows is that he is shouting at Judai because it suddenly made sense to guilt trip him over the fact that he'd abandoned his friends, he'd abandoned him as soon as someone better had come into the picture. And it was Judai's fault for letting them- him believe that he cared when he didn't, when he couldn't have cared less, because clearly he had one priority only and that was Johan. They had come to help and it still wasn't being appreciated.

Disappearing is a relief, for a moment, but then he finds himself in another hellish place and he can't help but think that it's retribution for being so upset over something that has nothing to do with him. That's right. It's his own fault for making Judai, his only real friend (aside from Fubuki, sorry for breaking the immersion, but I love Fubuki), carry the burden of the stupid hopes that came with his feelings. Judai has no fault. Johan has no fault. It's his own for desiring something that would always be out of reach.

As he is tortured by his own thoughts and regrets in the other dimension, Manjoume silently wishes his words meant nothing to Judai, that he'd be spared the pain of betrayal. He wishes Judai can achieve his goal.

When Shou appears to him, he knows there is no time to waste. If he is alive, the others are, too. Judai would want to know that they are safe. So he asks Shou to carry his message, along with his good luck wish. He hopes it's enough to make up for his mistakes.

Next thing he knows, they are back at DA, Judai is nowhere to be seen. Manjoume mourns the loss of his first and only friend and curses himself for tarnishing that memory. (Judai's return and season 4 would be too much to cover, this was only Manjoume's pov and I might as well just rewrite the entire show at this point.)

So what about Judai?

I personally want to believe that he genuinely does like Manjoume at some point. But as much as it pains me to admit it, season 3 just wrote Manjoume off from the list of main characters and relegated him to 'he's your funny comic relief, nobody really gives a shit about what he thinks or feels, so why should you, the spectator who has grown to love him, care at all? Also here's his sticker that confirms that Judai going after Johan makes him really angry for some reason, make of that what you will c:' (fuck the writing staff, I'm not even sorry).

Judai is so clearly smitten with Johan. It seems to me that his refusal to accept Manjoume's help that one time on the cliff shows that Judai doesn't really understand the way Jun operates. He probably labeled him as just someone else who counted on him to be saved. And sure, Manjoume is saved by Judai in multiple occasions, but he doesn't ever really... ask for it? Or more importantly expect it. He doesn't get himself into situations he can't handle because Judai can save him anyways, the trouble just kind of happens at him and more often than not he's only involved by accident, because he happens to be close to Judai.

The problem still stands, as season 3 starts, Judai is very much burdened by everyone's expectations and Johan is a breath of fresh air and the only one Judai actually considers a friend and an equal. It's heartbreaking that he felt that alone.

They get their gay 'have we met somewhere before moment', they duel gaily, they homoerotically tell eachother how admirable the other is, they shamelessly flirt and whoohoo Judai has an unofficial boyfriend and who can blame him for concentrating on him along with wanting to escape the pressure his former gang unknowingly laid on him.

But yeah, Judai in season 3 has a one track mind and it's hard not to see it as romantic. Does he know it is? Maybe? I honestly don't know. I feel like Johan is the one of the two who is aware of the implications of their interactions. Which also kind of brings me to say... does Johan think that all of Judai's friends are horrible people? Because he never once comments on how Judai distances himself from them once he arrives. He probably thinks they were never good friends in the first place.

Judai probably excuses his attentions towards Johan with the fact that they are alike because they can see spirits, but then he rememebers that so can Manjoume and maybe he feels guilty for a second, but Johan cracks a joke and Judai laughs and thinks to himself that Manjoume is probably happy to have the peace and quiet he so often claimed to want.

Like... I think a part of him would get that tightness in his chest because it's like he's betrayed someone, but he knows he hasn't, because there isn't any actual mutual agreement he's going against. So he lets himself fall deeper into the comfort of Johan's presence. Johan is, to Judai, the ideal person. He is exactly who Judai wants to become. Judai admires him very deeply and strives to be more like him, but he falls gradually into despair as he learns, once Johan is gone, that no, he can't be like him, because Johan is so much better than him, and if he doesn't get him back soon he might even forget what he was like in the first place. Johan can't be erased, can't be forgotten. And Judai feels like he's vanishing already, so he throws himself into a wild interdimensional manhunt to save his hopes for the future.

Turns out that wanting to do good doens't always result in a good outcome. That's what Judai learns when Manjoume lashes out at him just seconds before disappearing. Along with the others, too. Judai doesn't even have the brain power to compute that some people are still there, that he can still save someone, because he realised then that he had focused so much on Johan that he'd completely overlooked the fact that while his friends relied on him a little too much, they hadn't meant any harm. And if he'd just told them, maybe they would have been fine, they could've cooperated- but Manjoume had told him that he was a traitor, that he'd doomed them with his irrational behaviour.

Manjoume's last words to him had been spoken with hatred and Judai realised only then that he had misread him entirely. He lets despair and self hatred take over as he realises that if he had managed to hurt the ones he cared about so easily, discarding them for the new good thing, he could just keep doing that. And it would stop hurting, eventually.

I like to think that Manjoume really does have an impact on the awakening of the Supreme King. Yeah, I know he only turns once Johan's death is mentioned, I know. I just suffer from abandonment issues and can't stand that Manjoume dying in front of him is more impactful to Judai than a guy who literally can't be trusted saying "Joke's on you, the one you're looking for is in another castle already dead."

So yeah. That's the angsty overview.

TL;DR Johan is an Adonis, Judai is smitten and Manjoume is very very heartbroken. But actually so is Judai. Because while being with Johan feels right, there's someone whose absence feels wrong, but he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it and everything goes to shit. All around a bad time for everyone and they'll have a lot of talking to do once they properly reconcile after graduation.

#blame anon not me #i advise you don't read this even if i spent actual hours on this #projection time #ygo #yugioh #ýgo gx #yugioh gx #judai yuki #yuki judai #jaden yuki #manjoume jun #jun manjoume #chazz princeton #gx rivalshipping #mentions of spiritshipping #like it's basically canon in the show no way around it #ulri doesn't like johan and it's time to get cancelled for it #enjoy your pain anon #i'm legit so fucking sorry

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bedbellyandbeyond · 3 years

Photo

What Happened?

(Story Post)

“…A severe weather anomaly in the Thunder Bay area took place last night, at 11:45pm…” Dax heard the sound of the radio as he slowly woke up. He was exhausted and rather sore all over, his body feeling like a pile of bricks. “…Locals reported seeing a big bird made of light fly through the clouds while scientists are saying the lightning, in combination with Canada Day fireworks, may have appeared similar in shape to a bird…” Dax couldn't ignore that and he sat up straight, looking around for the source of the news broadcast. There was a little clock radio on the bedside table reading out 5:44am. Moments later, he realised he didn't recognise his surroundings. He wasn't at the hotel but he was in a bed. He was alone in a room with wooden walls and big glass windows. There was a closet and a dresser, with little wooden animal figures lining the top. Outside, he could see over a small lake. It was awfully familiar.

The bedroom door opened and Kent stuck his head in, glaring at Dax. “So you're awake.” “What? Where am I?” Dax asked. “What happened?” “This is my room, dumbass,” Kent said. “Now get the fuck out.” “Um, how did I get here?” Dax asked. Kent narrowed his eyes. “You don’t remember flying in here like a bat out of hell?” Dax shook his head. Kent huffed. “Best you don't, then...” “Please, I... All I remember was going back to the hotel with Nathan, and then... Then...” He wracked his mind. “I don't know... I don't remember a thing.” “Again, it's best you don't. Get out.” “You don't understand!” Dax said desperately. “I never lose control like this anymore! This isn't normal for me! I need to know what happened. I can't let this happen again. It sounds like a whole city saw me!” “At least the bird's all they fucking saw...” Kent grunted. “You came falling in like a shootin' star and then barge into my house and into my bedroom.” “Really?! I'm so sorry!” Dax apologised. “Please tell me I didn't hurt you!” “Hurt me?” Kent scoffed. “Fuck no... You think you could hurt me, veggie boy? Get fucked.” “So, then... What?” Dax asked. “What did happen last night?” Kent clenched his jaw. “Nothin'. You went to sleep.” Dax blinked. “...Seriously, Kent. What happened?” Kent just set his jaw and didn't make eye contact. Dax started to panic. “...Don’t tell me... We didn't... You and I...” Kent just retreated and closed the door behind him. “Get your clothes and get the fuck out!” he called through the door. Dax dropped his head into his hands. “No... Shit, shit, we can't...” The aches of his body told him otherwise though. He got up with the blanket wrapped around his waist, and looked for his clothes. He found them on the floor and pulled on his boxers before hobbling to the door, opening it again. His eyes found Kent standing in his kitchen watching his coffee pot drip. “Kent,” Dax said getting the bear man's attention. “We need to talk about this.” “We absolutely do not,” Kent growled. “Your bags are there.” Dax looked down to find his and Nathan's overnight bags at his feet. “I need to call Nathan... Let me borrow your phone.” Kent huffed and went through his kitchen drawers before he pulled out a smartphone and tossed it to Dax. Dax wasn’t prepared and fumbled it, but his managed to catch it. “Be careful! These things are fragile and expensive...” Kent just shrugged. Dax tried to turn it on but he got nothing but an empty battery symbol. “It's dead...” “Yep.” “You have to keep it charged up,” Dax said. “Where's the charger?” Kent frowned. “Don't know.” Dax groaned in frustration. “Have you ever charged it?” Kent shook his head. “Nope.” “So, I imagine you never took the charger out of the box,” Dax assumed. “Do you have the box?” Kent opened the same drawer again and pulled out the box onto the counter. Dax went over, giving the bear man wide berth, and took the box before going through it. He pulled out the phone charger and looked around for an outlet. “Hopefully this thing charges fast,” he said as he found an outlet by the light switch and plugged it in. “Although it'll be a pain if you never even set it up...” “It's set up,” Kent said. “It went off a whole lot before it crapped out.” “It just lost charge,” Dax said. “It's probably like brand new. They even provided you a case and screen protector. I wish people gave me free thousand dollar phones...” “That thing costs a thousand dollars?” Kent exclaimed. “You have to be kidding me!” “No, this looks like the latest device...” Dax said. “I can't google it right now, but these big brand ones can run you anywhere from $1000 to $1900 depending on if it's the fancy version or not.” “Shit, you ain't joking...” Kent went over and picked up the phone where it was charging. “If I'd known, I would've pawned it off immediately...” “Good thing you didn't since you're going to have to use it if you want to be in contact with your kids,” Dax said crossing his arms. Kent sneered. “I’d just buy a normal land phone.” “Um, you're off the grid. Your house literally isn't near any telephone lines. It's a miracle you have cell reception in the first place.” Kent groaned and put the phone down. “Still though... How am I supposed to use this thing anyway? There's no real buttons and my hands are too big." “No, they're not. Look, there's accessibility settings in the phone to help you out if you really need it,” Dax said, picking up the phone to see if it had enough charge to turn on. He got a happy little jingle and the logo appeared. “Yes! Alright, after I call Nathan, I'll show you how to use it.” “Don't need it,” Kent said firmly. Dax frowned. He stood up straight and looked Kent dead in the eyes. “Look, asshole. You have been nothing but rude to me this entire visit. I get it. I'm the other guy. I'm the one Nathan chose to raise his kids with. I'm the one in the way of you having a happy little family or whatever... But I'm really not your enemy. Nathan has said a lot of bad things about you, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt because I didn't know you. I even tried to convince him to bring the kids up to meet you in the first place. And now that we're here, I still think you deserve to see your kids, but you need to show me at least a tiny ounce of respect. I'm literally just trying to help you. Nathan, like everyone else in the ‘First World’, is smartphone dependent. If you can't use one, he's not going to bother trying to reach you some other way, and you're not going to see your kids. Let me show you how to use the damn phone.” Kent crossed his arms and didn't say anything. Dax sighed and just tried to figure out if he could access his contacts online through Kent's phone. When he managed to log into his own account, he found Nathan's phone number and called it. After a couple rings, Nathan picked up. “Hello?” “Nathan, it's me, Dax!” “Dax? Oh, thank god... Are you alright?” “I think so... I'm at Kent's. I'm using his phone,” Dax explained. “Yeah, I'm on my way over now. APID tracked down your location, but they insisted on me waiting until they had everything under control around here before they let me come get you... I'm really glad you're okay. You really scared me last night.” “Nathan, I'm so sorry... I honestly have no idea how I even ended up here,” Dax said. “The thunderbird took over and I...I don't understand what happened to me... It's been years since I've lost control like this, and it's never been this bad...” “It's okay, babe. What matters is you're safe and it's over. I'm coming to get you. Just relax, okay?” “Yes, alright...” “Can I talk to Kent for a moment?” “Sure.” Dax offered the phone to the bear man. Kent took it and grunted into the receiver. “Nate?” “Yeah, hey... I'm coming to get Dax and you better be nice to him. He's freaking out, and I'm kinda freaking out too, so give him a break.” “Veggie boy's fine here,” Kent said. “Don't get your knickers in a twist.” “What state was he in when he got to your place? Did he cause any damage?” Kent hesitated. “...No, he just swooped in and passed out...” “Okay... Well, we're ten or fifteen minutes away. You can tell me everything when I get there.” “There's no everything, that's it. You should be telling me what the fuck happened for sparky to come bustin' in here in the middle of the damn night.” “Aw, did he ruin your beauty sleep, big boy?” “Shut up... Come get your boy toy and y'all can get the fuck out. Go back home and get my kids for me.” “That's pretty much the plan,” Nathan said. “You just have to uphold your side of the deal.” “I already trained you some, damn dog. I earned my time with my damn kids.” “You're gonna see them. Relax.” “I better.” “Give me back to Dax.” Kent handed the phone back before going to his room and closing the door behind him. “Nathan, I want to apologise again if I hurt you at all...” Dax said. “I never wanted you to see me at my worst...” “Dax, you've had to be there at my worst countless times already. I'm willing to do the same for you. I care about you.” “...Thank you, Nathan. That means a lot.” “I'll see you in ten, okay?” “Okay. See you soon.” “See you.” Dax hung up the phone and walked it over to Kent's bedroom. He knocked on the door gently. “Hey, let me show you how to make a call before Nathan gets here... Then you can show him what you learned.” The door opened and Kent stood there, looming over Dax. “...Are you plannin' on tellin' him what transpired last night?” Dax shuddered. “...I still don't know exactly what happened last night. You still need to fill me in on the details.” Kent set his jaw. “What do you want me to say?” Dax pursed his lips. “...If I cheated on Nathan, I need to know.” Kent glared at him. “Nothin’ happened!” “I know you're lying to me,” Dax said. “I know you're scared of being gay or having feelings for men and whatever, but this isn't just about you. My relationship is at stake here!” “You think I don't fuckin' know that?” Kent growled. “Do you think Nathan would let me see my damn kids if he found out I fucked his limp dick boyfriend?!” Dax stepped back, his body feeling weak suddenly. “Oh god... So we did... We actually did...” Kent grabbed Dax's shoulder. “Listen, celery stick. Nothin' happened if no one says anythin' happened. Got it?” Dax shook his head. “But what did happen? I don't remember a thing... Did you...did you take advantage of me?” “Advantage?” Kent snarled. “Are you insane? You came on to me! You came into my fuckin' room and tried to ride me!” “Maudite château de marde...Sacrament...” Dax rubbed his temples. “But you let me?” “Don't try to fuckin' blame me,” Kent growled. “There was something wrong with you, you had all these damn pheromones reekin’ up my damn room, I didn't have any damn control. The bear had control!” “I fucked a bear?!” Dax felt like he was gonna pass out. “Well, no. I was still mostly human,” Kent said. “It ain't that time.” “If you didn't transform, you were in control!” Dax said. “You didn't fuckin' transform and you weren't in no damn control!” Kent said. “I’m not a therianthrope, the Thunderbird has different levels of control, it's all complicated!” “Well, I'm complicated too, damn it! I ain't fuckin’ no man on purpose!” “Bullshit!” Kent grabbed Dax's arms and turned them both around before shoving him against the wall beside his bedroom door. “Listen, you little bitch!” Dax gasped in pain. “You're hurting me...” “Nathan ain't going to hear about this,” Kent growled. “Nothin’ happened. Do you understand?” Dax frowned looking up at Kent. “I'm not going to lie to him.” “I will fuckin' kill you,” Kent threatened. Dax didn't back down. “And then what? Nathan will be here in minutes with agent Hanover. You'd be arrested on the spot, sent back to the US, and they will execute you for real this time. You'll never meet your children and they truly will be the kids of a murderer.” Kent just glared at him a few more seconds and then he squeezed Dax's wrist, digging his thumbs in. “Why do you want to tell Nathan? You want to lose him?” “Of course, I don't, but I...” Dax bit his lip. “I understand what it's like to be cheated on. I know how horrible it feels to be lied to and to be made to feel guilty about something someone else did. But I love Nathan, and this was a mistake. The best chance for this all to work out the best possible way is to be honest and work through it together.” “...That's hippy crap,” Kent said. “He's going to kick your ass to the curb.” “Then...so be it,” Dax said. “But I trust Nathan to be a better person than that.” Kent just let go of Dax and walked back to the kitchen in a huff. He opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Dax exhaled, his heart racing faster than he wanted to let on. He rubbed his wrists and found small punctures where Kent had dug in with his sharp nails. They bled a little. “I can still show you how to use the phone...” Dax offered, trying to be the better man. “I'll need a couple Band-Aids first, though...” Kent popped the lid off his beer with the edge of the counter. “Bathroom, under the sink. But don't bother with the damn phone. Nathan’ll be here soon...” “Well, if we got started, we'll at least look like we're getting along when he gets here,” Dax said as he went to the bathroom. Kent grunted. “Fine. But get dressed.” “You don’t have to tell me twice…”

#lore #Dax #Kent #Nathan #werebear #thunderbird

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inactivefandomblog · 3 years

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Things I noticed when I re watched Birds of prey last night

Hi all, I watched BOP for the second time last night and I wanted to write down some of the things I noticed as I had seen @wordsoflittlewisdom , Idea credit goes to them on this one. I’m aware that some of these things are not exactly new discoveries and were blatantly obvious to others, but I have ADHD and a processing delay meaning that I don't always take in all the information the first time I watch a film. For example, I had no idea Renee was gay for ages, even though they tell us she had an ex girlfriend (I think I was too busy fan Girling that Ali Wong was in the film then though to hear that bit). I have to focus more on the overall plot when I watch things the first time, but the second time I was able to scan for little details and take in more things. Without further ado, here’s what I noticed.

“Do you know what a harlequin is? A harlequin's role is to serve. It's nothing without a master. No one gives two shits who we are, beyond that.”

-When Harley is talking about Harlequinns serving their master, she is not just talking about her relationship with the Joker, but about Canary letting Roman be her master. She is saying that she felt like she was nothing without the Joker. She is also implying that Dinah feels the same about Roman, and that she shouldn't because he doesn’t actually care about her like the Joker didn’t care about her.

-THATS WHY SHE ONLY HAS ONE SHOE IN THE CHASE SCENE!!!!! SHE USED IT TO PIN DOWN THE ACCELERATOR IN THE TRUCKKKKKK!!! MYSETERY SOLVED!! ... though.. she didn’t change her shoes to a full set between then and the police chase the next day/ later on the same day. Meaning she didn't go home after that...so did she just like wander around Gotham after committing a huge crime obviously tide to her XD of course she did, she’s Harley Fucking Quinn! Either that or she passed out somewhere from being very very drunk, hopefully her apartment and not just a street or something.

-BONUS: fanfic idea: DRUNK HARLEY HAS A FUNERAL FOR HER SHOE THAT GOT BLOWN UP IN THE ACE CHEMICALS EXPLSION, WITH BRUCE AND THE BEAVER. after she leaves the crime scene. That just seems like a thing drunk Harley would do, as I imagine she loved those shoes as they were awesome..so were her sequin socks.

-The first time I watched it I didn't realise that the fireworks weren’t actually there - because that was all in Harley's head and the film is from her pov - even though we are showed that when the police arrive there are none and it's just a regular explosion. Not until I was told this was the case and realised we were literally shown this later on.

-She goes from being a Harlequinn to Harley Quinn as she becomes emancipated.

-Roman just lets Zsas grab his arms and restrain him when he’s mad, switch energy much.....also they are defo gay for each other. Zsas was acting like a jealous boyfriend when he gave Dinah even an ounce of attention. He legit told her to come back later when he just started massaging Roman’s shoulders. Roman let's Zsas rub his shoulders and comfort him, Zsas wants to protect Roman...need I go on.

- Cass’ parents are yelling about how they don't want her if you listen to what they are saying, so they’re not just fighting, they’re fighting because they wish they never adopted her. She can hear them saying all this too. This made me feel even more sad for Cass than when I thought her parents were toxic to each other in my first watch through.

- (Trigger warning: mention of domestic abuse and child abuse)

Cass’ parents didn't want her and seemed to be very hostile, its not mentioned how Cass got her cast...but I realised that it could suggest that her parents broke her arm. Which would go on to suggest that they were abusing her physically as well as emotionally. Hence why she didn’t trust people, and was so hurt when Harley betrayed her. Because when she says that she though Harley was different, she meant that she thought she could trust Harley and that Harley wouldn’t hurt her.

-Margot’s real accent comes through when she tells Canary ‘I haven't told that to anyone’ when telling her she Broke up with Joker, as well as a few other times throughout the film.

-Cassandra is quiet and not talkative in her first scene because her throat was hurting because of the diamond. That's why she coughed to try and clear it . At that point in the film we hadn’t been shown that part but it was set after it happened so it makes sense when you re watch it.

-Cassandra’s jacket has a little middle finger logo on it, which I thought really suited her character.

- Cass has ‘asshole’ written on her cast, a drawing of a gun the word ‘fuck’, the word ‘magic’ - which is probably a reference at how she does some stuff that is similar to closeup magic and uses the same magicians technique of the art of misdirection - she also has what appears to be two playing cards, one with hearts and one with diamonds. Which is most probably a reference to Harley Quinn’s whole hearts and diamonds thing she has going. Didn’t comic book Harley also have a link to those specific playing cards too? or something like that?

EDIT: THEY ARE PLAYING CARDS!! I GOT A BETTER LOOK AT THE CAST IN THE COSTUMES VIDEO.

- TW: mentions of abuse and child abuse and trauma

The whole diamonds are a girls best friend is Harley going somewhere else mentally to cope with the trauma of being abused - we see her being spanked by a nun when was younger suggesting she was abused then too, and I think it is a part of her comic book story that she was but I don't know for sure - when it flashes and Guns appear that's reality trying to seep in. She's trying to focus on the diamond and block everything else out

-I spotted what looks like a mini mallet on the wall in her kitchen that could potentially be a meat tenderiser, and if that is the case then that is a fantabulous little Easter egg type thingy. The handle looks too long to be a pot, it has a diamond pattern on it and it is next to another tool for preparing meat...so now I'm just waiting on Margot Robbie,Cathy Yan or Ella Jay Basco to Reply to my tweet and confirm it.

-Helena speaking Chinese makes me laugh for some reason, I think its her facial expression.

- Kid Helena’s crayons when she's drawing the revenge pic are all perfectly spaced and placed like her stuff in her bathroom scene. Further evidence of her perfectionism/ her liking things a specific way.

- The towel in Helena’s hotel room on the bed (seen in mirror reflection) is in the shape of a little person.

- Canary sheds a tear when Roman harasses the lady on the table, I didn't notice that before because I looked away as the scene made me really uneasy.

- Harley screws the cap on the nail polish before putting it down even though there's someone at the door after them. This made me laugh because she thinks the police is after her but still takes time to do this, which is such a Harley thing. Like when she bent down to pick up the penny when that guy was gonna kill her.

- Roman has a shirt with his face printed on it.They did a good job of using the costumes and sets to show his egomaniacal trait.

- The look of acceptance of Harley's face when she realises that no one cares about, after the last person she thought cared about her (Doc) betrayed her, is heart-breaking.

-How was Renee not injured from getting launched out the window? Even if she didn't fall all the way to the ground and landed on the top of the entrance bit, she’d still be injured.

-WHERE DOES HUNTRESSS STORE ALLL THOSE ARROWWWSSSSS????? SHE FIRED SO MMAANNNNYYY! I DIDN’T SEE A QUIIIIVVVER OR ANYTHING. I guess she just stores them in sub space along with her hammer¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-Also I think I figured out what the chain is for, at first I thought it was for the crossbow to attach to. Then I though not as she leaves the crossbow on the floor by itself in the funhouse fight scene, but then I think I saw it attached to it..so I think she can just disconnect it when need be. Plus it just looks cool.

-Alllssoo, she toooottallly checked out Dinah! HELENA IS DEFO GAYYYY! she has big useless lesbian vibes. They really knew who their target audience was when they made Helena look so stunning and badass. The producers really said ‘hello LGBTQ+ community’ (hopefully y’all know that tiktok audio or that wont make much sense) Also, if you don't believe me, I have a gif of her doing it on my blog. So there’s no denying it.

-Why were the lights on in the funhouse if it was abandoned?? Maybe its just more Harley vision? but the carousel was rotating too...

Anyway that's everything I noticed, thanks for reading if you made it this far, and even if you didn’t...you wont see this then but still. Thank y’all .

#harley quinn #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #birds of gay #birds of prey #dc #movie #dinah lance #huntress #black canary #renee montoya #dinah x helena #cassandra cain #victor zsaz #roman sionis

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

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The Eternal Empire

My dearest @ohnomybreadsticks, this is my humble offering to you as part of @thewitchersecretsanta. I hope it is everything your little heart could hope for, a Modern AU of our OT4 being idiots.

Rating: Mature Pairings: Lambert/Eskel, Aiden/Cahir, Lambert/Eskel/Aiden/Cahir, Eskel/Cahir, Lambert/Aiden Summary: What better way to figure out whether there was any jealousy between them than by going to a strip club? Lambert and Eskel had done all the talking about finding a third to invite into their relationship. In theory they were fine with it, but they needed to see whether theory held up in practice too.

The Eternal Empire

The Eternal Empire was a rather impressive building. It loomed over Lambert and Eskel, slick, dark with golden accents. There was no doubt about what kind of establishment it was, the silhouettes of dancers in the windows, just obscured enough to be nothing more than elegant, barely there shadows. Eskel looked over it in approval.

“Hasn’t really changed.”

Coughing nervously, Lambert glanced between his partner and the building. He really hadn’t expected to ever end up at such an establishment, let alone with Eskel. While he knew his partner had been to strip clubs before, that was before they got their heads out of their arses and actually started dating rather than casually fucking. On the surface, Lambert was the wild one, the unpredictable, hot-headed idiot while Eskel was the quiet, dependable, respectable one. It gave Lambert a bit of a kick to know how wrong those impressions were. After all, he wasn’t the one who had snorted a line of fisstech off the chest of a one night stand.

That was all beside the point, Lambert was now following his partner into the depths of The Eternal Empire, absolutely absorbed in the décor which was dark, highlighted with soft yellow lights that really looked like a never ending line of fire. From deep within the building music reverberated through the walls, making Lambert’s whole body pulse with the beat.

“Are you sure?”

“As long as you are,” Eskel replied, linking their hands. “This is a safe way to see if either of us gets jealous. We’ll find a couple of nice looking and willing performers, buy a couple of dances, have a nice time. It’s just dipping our toes in and seeing how we feel.”

A fine plan, one that had seemed so much better in the light of day. The two of them were so very happy together, Geralt liked to tease they were sickeningly in love. But, over the years, they’d grown to realise that maybe they had room in their lives for an extra person. A threesome hadn’t really been the way they wanted to test their theory, they wanted something more subtle. Hence a strip club and a wedge of cash in Eskel’s pocket.

The main area of the club was quite breath-taking. Lambert stared wide eyed, taking in the large room with a main stage and a couple of smaller ones. There were performers of every kind dotted around the place, doing seemingly impossible things on poles or shimmying against patrons.

“Just remember the rules, look but don’t touch. And look respectfully.”

Lambert was doing just that. Looking very very respectfully, jaw only slightly slack as his gaze caught on two beautiful people, leaning against a bar. Both were lean, strong, and looked like they’d walked off a photoshoot of some description. They were both wearing very little, only tight golden booty shorts that left not a whole lot to the imagination. Their skin glistened in a shimmer of gold - not enough to be overpowering but highlighting all the gorgeous muscles on display. The lady they were chatting to glanced over at them and smirked.

“Oh shit.” Lambert managed to mutter before the glamorous woman was standing in front of them.

“Good evening gentlemen,” she said. “I’m Fringilla, I’ll be your hostess for the evening. I see those two rather lovely idiots have caught your eyes.”

Eskel nodded, more comfortable with the situation than Lambert could ever hope to be. He put an arm around Lambert’s waist and offered a quirk of his lips. “If they have some spare time and don’t mind our visage, a dance would be most welcome.

Fringilla smiled like a shark that smelled blood. She nodded. “Of course. Why don’t I show you to a private booth and I’ll send them over with your preferred drinks. What will it be?”

“Two sodas, a wedge of lime in one if you’re feeling generous,” Eskel replied. There was no drinking to be had that night, this was something they needed to do sober.

With a nod, Fringilla led them to one of the side booths that could be curtained off. It even had a pole in it. “Aiden and Cahir will be with you shortly.”

“Thank you!” Lambert squeaked and Eskel had to hide his fond laugh. He loved his partner but he was so nervous.

“Relax,” he breathed and squeezed the muscles along Lambert’s neck and shoulders with one large hand. “It’s just us having a bit of fun.”

“Shouldn’t we have talked prices first? You said we won’t order off the menu.”

Before Eskel could reply, the curtains fluttered and the two dancers stepped in. He had to hand it to Lambert, he really did spot a beautiful pair. They were rather lucky to have them free for a dance and, looking at them, Eskel already knew it wasn’t going to be cheap but it was so very worth it. Anticipation thrummed impatiently under his skin.

“Hello, thank you,” Lambert said as he took a drink from the shorter of the two. “I’m Lambert, this is Eskel.”

Nerves were obviously getting the better of him but the dancer winked with a cheeky smile. “You can call me Thank You but I generally prefer Aiden. And this is my partner Cahir. I believe you two asked for a dance this evening?”

“Yes please. If it’s no trouble. And we’ll look respectfully but nothing more.”

Cahir turned from Eskel to look at Lambert with a wicked grin. “You are too precious, sweetheart. Why don’t we dance for you and, if the mood takes, we might even let you touch. Okay?”

Eskel settled on the padded bench along the wall and tugged Lambert next to him. They were just within touching distance of the pole and, as Aiden fiddled with the controls artfully disguised in the wall, the lights came down into something darker, more intimate just as music started playing.

With the fluidity of a dancer, Cahir stepped up to the pole and, with seeming ease, pulled himself up it, turning upside down, gripping with his legs while he reached for Aiden. Lambert had no clue where to look. His eyes were drawn to the expanse of stomach and chest revealed by the move but also the way Cahir’s legs wrapped around the pole, thighs flexing. It was just as well they were in a private booth because Lambert wasn’t certain he wouldn’t combust if he’d had to watch this with strangers.

Similarly entranced, Eskel settled in comfortably, sipping at his soda, a hand on Lambert’s thigh. He was impressed by the prowess both Cahir and Aiden showed, they were definitely showmen, used to performing. There was no doubt that Aiden was the cheeky, fun one who stuck his tongue out at Lambert from the top of the pole before seemingly rolling down it, only to catch himself in a sitting position a foot off the ground. It was impressive to say the least. Chancing a glance at Lambert, Eskel had to smile. His partner looked enthralled, leaning closer to watch as Cahir leisurely spun around the pole, more showcasing his muscles than actually dancing. Thankfully, there wasn’t even a flicker of jealousy in Eskel at the way Lambert devoured the show with his eyes.

As the song wound down, Cahir was up on the pole in a similar position to how Aiden had started. But, by virtue of being taller and Eskel also leaning forward, as he leaned back, his face came level with Eskel’s.

“Hello handsome,” Cahir purred and a hand stroked down Eskel’s scarred cheek without hesitation or disgust. Eskel had to hand it to him, the guy was a professional through and through. He turned to look between Lambert and Eskel before his eyes flicked to Eskel’s lips. Before Eskel could give into temptation and lean in, Cahir was pulling himself up and flipping off the pole with flourish, a teasing grin on his face just as the song ended.

“Wow.” Lambert was speechless and he looked ready to start clapping. It was only Aiden slithering to sit next to him that stopped him probably.

“Enjoy the show?” As if he even had to ask and he knew, if his cocky smoke was anything to go by.

“It was amazing,” Eskel cut in when Lambert just nodded and kept nodding without stopping. “How much do we owe you?”

“Nothing.” Cahir flopped down next to Eskel in a sprawl. He had to be aware of how delectable he looked, nobody could be so blind to their own appeal. “We did this because of a bet.”

“You lost a bet?” Lambert finally piped up, eyes big and disappointed. Next to him, Aiden scoffed.

“Lost? No! We won.” He looked altogether far too proud.

That made not a whole lot of sense and Eskel decided to take a drink rather that try and fathom out what kind of idiot bet on something and their prize was dancing in a club while wearing next to nothing. Well, he knew what kind of idiot, the two they were currently sharing a booth with.

“So, were we your great gay awakening?” Aiden asked and held up a hand for Cahir who obediently reached over to high five him.

“Nah. That was Eskel a long while ago.” A laugh actually bubbled up in Lambert’s throat as he shyly looked at his partner. “This was my polyamorous awakening I think.”

“Nice.” Cahir nodded. “I remember Aiden and I figuring that one out.”

“Wait-” Eskel looked between the two, “-when you said partner did you mean-?”

Aiden’s bright laughter answered that and he nodded merrily. “Yep. Eight years and counting. Had a few people stick around for a roll in the bed with us but nothing ever stuck.”

Lambert squeezed Eskel’s thigh. They were both thinking it. Obviously Cahir and Aiden were up for at least a fumble if not more too. Especially given how Aiden scooted closer to Lambert, almost sitting in his lap.

“So, what do you say?” Aiden murmured, leaning in.

Eskel watched as Lambert’s tongue darted out and wet his lip. He leaned in closed too, whispering “go for it” and watching as Lambert kissed Aiden. What Eskel didn’t expect was for Cahir to trail a hand across his chest and up his throat to snag two fingers under his chin and turn him back.

“I believe I rudely teased you earlier.” His words curled around a smile. “And, if we do this, I need to go pay Fringilla for your drinks. I would love this to be a bet I lost.”

More than happy to oblige, Eskel wasted no time in kissing Cahir. However, his hand still reached to link his fingers with Lambert’s. As far as first meetings went, it was definitely not a traditional one. Then again, nothing about Lambert and Eskel had ever been traditional and it all worked out just fine. This too would be the start of something unusual but perfect for all four of them.

#lambskel #lambden #eskhir #eskel/lambert #eskel/cahir #lambert/aiden #aiden/cahir #eskel/lambert/cahir/aiden #witcher secret santa #long post

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writethelifeyouwant · 3 years

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Dive Bar Ch. 11/11 - Fin

Pairing: Dean x Sam

Rating: 18+

Summary: After a one night stand with a random college chick turns into a threesome that also featured his little brother, Dean- well, frankly, he panics. What’s even worse than gay panicking? Gay incest panicking. Luckily, Sam winds up being a little more cool about the whole thing than Dean ever would have imagined.

WC: 3,001

Tags: brother/brother incest, loss of anal virginity, anal sex, blow job, incest kink, dirty talk, top!sam, bottom!dean, happy ending - sue me

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr and @daydream3r-xo

Divider: @firefly-graphics ❤️

A/N: Okay I’m gonna do a separate post with a long sappy note so this post doesn’t become a mile long but TLDR - thank you for reading and coming with me on this wild ride 🥰

Fic Masterlist

Chapter 10

A few weeks later

Another hunt. Another drink. Another dive bar.

Sam killed his beer before Dean could even get his lips around his own, and once he saw Sam downing the drink, condensation running over his knuckles, his lips, down his throat– Dean didn’t care he had lost the game, he just wanted to lick the moisture off Sam’s neck.

“Take a picture,” Sam laughed when he noticed Dean’s staring, “it’ll last longer.” Dean dropped his gaze to his bottle and took a long swig. “Something on your mind?”

“Wh– nope, nothing,” Dean denied, seeing his beer off. “I’m buying right? You want the same?”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam looked suspicious, but let Dean go off to get their second round.

Dean grabbed the bartender’s attention and held up two fingers, pointing to the bottles he was returning, then dropped his head in his hands. God, he had to get himself under control. He couldn’t just zone out every time Sam did something that made him half hard in his jeans – he’d wind up getting them both killed at some point. It didn’t help that every time Sam had tried to fuck him, he’d chicken out the second he got another look at Sam’s dick. He needed to nut up and go through with it already. The bartender pushed new drinks at Dean, breaking him out of his reverie.

When he spun back towards Sam with their drinks, he saw a table of girls a few spots over from them making eyes at Sam, and he noticed one in particular looked exactly his type. She had those ‘come hither’ bedroom eyes, long hair you could wrap your hands up in, great boobs – This is perfect.

“You’ve got an admirer little bro,” Dean teased when he dropped the fresh bottle on the table in front of Sam. Sam glanced up and noticed the girl Dean was talking about, dropping his head behind his hair quickly. Dean caught her eye and gave her a wink before taking a draught of his beer and turning back to Sam.

“Stop being a jerk,” Sam shoved at Dean, “it’s not nice to lead people on.”

“What if I’m not?” Dean held his breath as he watched Sam’s face, unsure of how he was going to react to that.

“What are you asking me, Dean?” Sam fingered the label on his beer bottle – one of his nervous tics – and Dean realised he fucked that up.

“No! That’s – shit, that’s not what I meant. I meant like, what we did before, with Dany, we… y’know.” Dean fumbled through an explanation, but he saw Sam let out a breath and knew he was okay.

“You want to have another threesome?” Sam smirked, bemused, which was better than pissed so Dean was fine with that.

“Why not?” he shrugged, glancing back to the girl, who was still checking them both out, before focusing back on Sam. “We were pretty damn good at it the first time,” Dean grinned, pulling a huff from Sam.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, still smirking at Dean, “it was good.” Sam’s smirking was starting to unnerve Dean a little.

“And, y’know, the past couple weeks have been – awesome, really – but maybe we uh, spice things up again, huh?” Dean waited for Sam to chime in with something, maybe tell him what all the goddamn smirking was about.

“Already getting bored of me, Dean?” Sam’s smirk was actually becoming irritating, now.

“You know that’s not what I meant, stop being a bitch,” Dean grunted. Sam laughed to himself and took another drink. “So, what d’ya say, Sammy?” Dean waggled his brow, trying to draw an answer out of his brother. “Show another gal the time of her life?”

Sam could tell Dean was stalling. He’d been jumpy the past few times Sam had brought up having actual sexual intercourse – his cock in Dean’s ass – saying he wanted it, but not letting Sam go past fingering him open a little. And now Dean was finding another excuse to put it off, and Sam was getting desperate. It was time to give Dean a push off his cliff.

“We can do it again,” Sam nodded, rounding the table so he was behind Dean, and looking towards the girl he’d been pointing out. “But not just yet.”

“Hm?” Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam, puzzled. Sam bent over his big brother, bringing his lips close enough to his ear that he wouldn’t have to shout to be heard in the crowded bar.

“I don’t want anyone else fucking you before I get the chance to do it properly.” Sam felt Dean shiver against him. “Gonna let me fuck you, big brother?”

“Fuck,” Dean exhaled, trying to compose himself behind a swig of his drink.

“How much longer you gonna hold out on me?” Sam scraped his teeth along the back of Dean’s ear, pulling a whimper from him.

“You know what, fine,” Dean stood abruptly, knocking Sam off balance behind him. “You wanna do this? Let’s do this. Get in the car, Sam.”

Sam grinned triumphantly as he followed Dean out of the bar and out to the Impala, back to their motel room for the night.

Sam pushed Dean against the door the second it closed behind them. They were good at this part. He could take Dean apart with a few calculated bites along his neck and some very enthusiastic kissing, and Dean was becoming more and more comfortable letting himself be putty in Sam’s hands.

Not that Dean didn’t have the same effect on Sam. A short tug on his hair and Dean’s tongue between his lips and he would melt in his brother’s arms. Dean was a mind-blowing kisser.

Sam trailed his hands down Dean’s arms and grabbed his wrists, pulling him off the wall and towards the bed; still messy from the previous night. He sat Dean down on the mattress and stood back to strip off his shirts. He felt Dean’s hands at his belt undoing the buckle so he could pull his jeans down, and Sam kicked them off along with his boots. Dean went to unbutton his own shirt but Sam stopped him.

“Hey – I want to do that.” Dean gave him a confused sort of smile, but let Sam’s fingers cover his and take over stripping him out of his layers. He kissed Dean again, sucking on his lower lip and licking into his mouth, inhaling his every breath - consuming him. He dragged his fingers over every inch of skin that was revealed as he pulled off the flannel and then the t-shirt, kissing down his legs as he tugged him out of his jeans, before he had to kneel to unlace Dean’s boots. Dean propped himself up on his elbows to look down at Sam, still knelt at his feet.

“I know what you’re doing Sam, so you can quit it now,” Dean griped. “Stop treating me like some blushing virgin, I’m not a girl.” Sam grinned wolfishly and sprang back on the bed once he’d gotten Dean’s jeans off.

“No, you’re definitely not a girl,” he agreed, squeezing the bulge in Dean’s underwear and pulling a groan from his brother. “But I’m still gonna make you scream like one,” Sam breathed against Dean’s lips before he devoured them. “Gonna make you feel so good, Dean,” Sam groaned, pushing his hand into Dean’s briefs and grabbing hold of his length. “Love your cock so much, so hot,” Sam wasn’t sure what he was saying anymore, whatever popped into his head was going straight to his mouth without any filter, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Dean had gotten his hand inside Sam’s boxers and was jerking him off now too.

“God, wanted this for so long,” Sam moaned, sucking a bruise into the join between Dean’s shoulder and his throat. “Thought about fucking you so much,” Sam admitted, to hell with embarrassment at this point. “When I went home with that guy from the bar, I wanted it to be you. I thought about you when I was fucking him – said your name when I came inside him.”

“Jesus, Sammy,” Dean groaned, his mocking tone not disguising his arousal very well, “s’cute you’re so sweet on me.”

“Shut up,” Sam bit at Dean’s lip gently, “before I make you.”

“So then make me,” Dean growled, flipping them so Sam was below him and he could grind their erections together while he sucked his own mark into Sam’s skin. He dragged his lips down Sam’s chest, goal evident. Sam didn’t want to get too carried away, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want Dean’s mouth on him; blowjobs were a skill Dean had really been perfecting over the past few weeks.

Dean hummed happily when he got Sam’s cock in his mouth, and Sam relished the wet warmth that enveloped him, thrusting up into Dean involuntarily.

“Someone’s eager,” Dean chuckled before taking Sam back in his mouth.

“Someone’s being a tease,” Sam grunted, hauling himself up on his elbows so he could pull Dean off his dick and throw him onto his side on the bed. They kissed again, Dean wrapping his arms around Sam and getting his hands in his hair, like he knew Sam liked. Without breaking from the kiss, Sam grabbed for the lube that was still under the pillow from the previous night.

Dean was expecting what came next, and didn’t flinch when he felt Sam’s fingers trailing over his ass and dipping between his cheeks to find his entrance. Sam kept the touches light, teasing – soothing – until he felt Dean relax against him again.

“I want you to do it,” Sam breathed against his neck. Dean didn’t follow.

“Want me to do what?”

“Get yourself ready for me,” Sam elaborated, kissing along Dean’s neck. “Want you to finger yourself open for me.”

“Why?” Dean wasn’t necessarily opposed to the idea, but Sam had always been the one to do this part before.

“Because you’ll be able to feel when you’re ready, won’t be as nervous.” Sam kissed further down Dean’s chest, stopping to suck one of his nipples into his mouth, and pulling a gasp from Dean. “Plus, I think it would be hot,” he grinned up at Dean. “Want to see fucking yourself so good on your fingers that you’re begging for my cock.”

Dean felt his cock twitch against Sam’s hip, and he had to admit, when he said it like that, it did sound fucking incredible. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He grabbed the lube from Sam and turned over so he was on his knees, letting his shoulders drop to the mattress, his ass in the air.

“Fuck, you look hot like that,” Sam moaned. Dean could see Sam was touching himself as he watched and found that he liked putting on a bit of a show.

“You like watching me, Sammy?” Dean shivered as he pushed one slicked-up finger into himself. “Like thinkin’ ‘bout how much you wanna fuck me while you touch yourself?” He started to move his finger inside himself, in and out, searching… “Like thinkin’ about your big brother when you get off?” Dean moaned when his fingertip skirted by the spot he was trying to find.

“Fuck, yes,” Sam breathed, eyes fixed on Dean’s finger moving in and out of his ass. “Add another one, Dean.” Dean did as he was told and added a second finger, hissing at the stretch. “There you go.” Sam reached between his legs to play with Dean’s cock, and his hand felt so fucking good against his skin. That, coupled with the fact that Dean had managed to find the spot inside his ass Sam had shown him that made everything go fuzzy, Dean was pretty blissed out. “Think you can do one more for me?” Sam squeezed his fingers in a ring around the head of Dean’s cock, drawing another whimper from him.

Dean nodded and pulled his hand away to add more lube, and went back to his hole with three fingers. He pressed at his entrance slowly, testing the give, and found that when he finally pushed his fingers inside, he loved how full he felt, and he loved the small tingle of pain that was mixing with the overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck.” Pumping his fingers into himself faster, Dean groaned wantonly, unreserved, relaxing into the feeling of being stretched so open.

“Think you’re ready?” Sam asked, obviously hopeful.

“Yeah,” Dean gasped, “yeah, Sam, want you. Please.” He let himself sag to the bed and rolled over onto his back. Sam kissed him shortly and pulled back, searching his eyes for one last okay, before Dean felt the tip of Sam’s cock pressing against his entrance.

When Sam pushed inside of him, Dean’s whole world whited out. He was bigger than the fingers he had been working himself with, and so fucking hard, but Dean loved every second of it. He couldn’t believe he’d made Sam wait to do this for so long.

“Oh my god, Sam, fuck -“ Dean panted.

“Told ya I’d make you feel good,” Sam groaned, pushing in a little more. “You’re doing so good, De, taking me so fucking good, so fucking tight.”

“Goddamn, you really never shut up, do ya Sammy?”

“Sorry,” Sam ducked his head into Dean’s neck, embarrassed.

“No, hey,” Dean pulled Sam back up to face him. “S’okay little brother. I, uh – I kinda like it.”

“Yeah?” Sam’s grin was unsure, but relieved.

“Yeah,” Dean nodded, kissing along the column of Sam’s neck, sucking the skin between his lips to leave another mark. “Never would have thought you’d be so good at dirty talk.”

“That’s not the only thing I’m good at,” Sam smirked, and pressed the last inch of himself inside Dean, pulling a muffled ‘fuck’ from Dean. “You still good?” Sam checked.

“So good,” Dean moaned, pressing his hips back into Sam’s, like he was hoping to fuse the two of them together permanently.

“Can I move yet, or do you need a minute?” Sam asked.

“Would you just shut up and fuck me alrea –” Dean’s gripe was cut off abruptly by a moan when Sam pulled his hips back and slammed home again. Dean couldn’t get too many words out after that – the pleasure thrumming through his body had short circuited his brain. All he could think about, all he could feel, was Sam’s cock moving inside of him. The hot drag of Sam’s flesh against his was intoxicating, and he felt himself fucking his hips back up into Sam’s without necessarily deciding to do that.

“Shit, that’s it baby,” Sam hissed through gritted teeth, picking up the pace of his thrusts. “Feel so good Dean.” Dean could barely manage a whimper in acknowledgement. Sam leaned back on his heels to get better leverage, moving Dean’s ankles to his shoulders, and on the next thrust in he found Dean’s prostate, which Dean’s choked whine made very clear. “There we go,” Sam grinned down at him. “Bet you're glad I didn’t let you go home with that girl now, huh? No girl could ever make you feel like this, could they?”

“No,” Dean admitted. “Fuck no.” And it was true. Sex had never felt this intense before, this all-consuming, this nerve-frying. Sam hadn’t even touched his cock since he’d pushed inside him and he was already so fucking close to losing it. And he knew Sam could tell, too.

“You gonna cum for me, big brother?” Sam started fucking into him even harder, quicker. “Gonna cum with your little brother’s cock inside you?” Dean thought he nodded, but to be honest, he couldn’t be sure. “Good,” Sam groaned, “because I am so fucking close.”

Dean reached up to pull Sam back down to him. He wanted every inch of his body covered by Sam’s, wanted to drown under him. They kissed fiercely, tongues tangling and teeth clacking against each other as Sam fucked him faster and faster. The sweat coating their bodies made for an easy slide of Sam’s stomach against Dean’s cock and that extra bit of pressure was exactly what he needed to finally spiral out of control. He came noiselessly, any sound he might have made dying in his throat as every muscle in his body seized up. Thick white spurts caught against the hair on their chests, smearing between them.

“Holy shit,” Sam gasped as he suddenly ceased his frantic pace and froze, cock buried inside of Dean as deep as it could go. “Fuck,” Sam’s whimper was barely audible, but it was there. Dean’s hands absentmindedly combed through Sam’s hair as they both calmed down their breathing, soothing his little brother like he’d always tried to do, even though, given the circumstances, it probably should have been the other way around right now.

Eventually, Sam pulled out carefully and flopped down on the vacant side of the mattress. Dean dragged the crumpled sheet from the foot of the bed and wiped over his chest, then over Sam’s, to get the cum off before it dried too badly, before dropping back against the pillows and rolling into Sam’s side. He felt Sam startle for a moment before pulling Dean against him, arm curling around his shoulder.

“Hey, you okay, man?” Sam’s voice was soft, like he was worried he would scare Dean off.

“Yeah,” Dean considered, “yeah, I’m good, brother.”

“Not too disappointed I didn’t let that blonde come back with us?”

Dean laughed. “No, Sammy, not disappointed.”

“What if I said that … I thought that – maybe – I wanted you all to myself from now on?” Sam’s eyes caught his, hesitant.

“I’d say…” Dean let sharp exhale and a short laugh. “I’d say, it’s always been you and me. And I’ve never needed anyone else.”

Sam beamed down at him. “Good enough for me.”

Tags: @vulgar-library @tintentrinkerin @negans-lucille-tblr @fandomfic-galore @petitgateau911 @whoreforackles @schaefchenherde @kickingitwithkirk @little-diable @delightfullykrispypeach @hawkerz12 @dylansbabygirl24 @mineshinamary @popsensationnicole23 @spn-problems @donthateme454 @doyouknowsamw @peridottea91 @delightfulbakeryaliendeputy @fictionallemons @natastic @marvelfansworld @half-closeted-bi-girl @je-ai-de-la-amour-pour-dean @kiss-my-peachy-arse @tftumblin @alice101macwil @disneysloot @caitlinvd @crashlyrose @miufel @itsthedoctah10 @leftlokiofpuppy @devilsbbyy @austin-winchester67 @spnobsessed50

#dive bar #dean x sam #wincest #gay panic #spnkinkbingo

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thisissirius · 3 years

Text

for @madroxed who needs this today. i love you <3

i will keep you (protected) callum/ben, ben working out his emotions with sex because of course. nsfw

Ben’s doing dinner.

This late in his gay journey, he shouldn’t be having any life changing epiphanies or opening up doors Ben’s certain had all been flung open years ago.

Until Callum presses up behind him to reach for something—Ben can’t even remember what they keep in that cupboard—and Callum’s hand is on his shoulder, oh so close to his neck.

Well. That’s new. And interesting.

The height difference has always been something.

Ben usually finds himself irritated with being looked down on, or mocked about his height, even if he’s not that short, thanks. Callum’s just—tall. Handsome, funny, and tall. Trifecta. Maybe quadfecta (is that a word?) because Callum’s also his. Ben’s. All fucking Ben’s.

At least, if he was cooperating, he’d be fucking Ben.

“I’ve gotta get to work,” Callum says, laughing into the kiss.

Ben’s hands slide up under Callum’s shirt as he nips at Callum’s bottom lip. “So? We’ve all been late, ain’t we?”

Callum doesn’t say anything for another kiss, a grunt as Ben’s fingers slip beneath the waistband of his trousers. “Fuck, Ben, no.”

Ben pouts, but pulls back, a hand on Callum’s neck. “Such a good boy.”

Snorting, Callum backs Ben up until Ben’s back hits the wall. They’ve been here before, always with Ben’s back to something, but Ben’s only just realising now that he likes it.

Really fucking likes it.

Callum’s watching him, lips quirked into a smirk. He knows.

“What?” Ben says, raising his eyebrows, testing. “What’s that smirk for?”

“You know,” Callums says, his voice dropping an octave. He leans in, nose to Ben’s cheek, lips still curved into that smile. “Like you like this.”

So does Ben, not that he’s going to say as much. “Haven’t you gotta be somewhere?”

Callum makes an affirmative noise, kisses Ben quickly, then again. “I’ll see you later.”

“Promises,” Ben says, offering his own smirk.

_____

Ben doesn’t have a meltdown about it.

Wanting to be crowded against something doesn’t make him—

Well, it doesn’t make him anything except horny.

_____

“Is it just walls?” Callum’s kneeling between Ben’s legs, one hand on the back of Ben’s thigh. He leans down, kisses at Ben’s jaw, lips ghosting over Ben’s. “Or is it here as well?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, mate,” Ben says, because those defensive reflexes just won’t fucking leave.

Callum doesn’t back down and that’s sexy in itself; he’s growing into himself, into his sexuality, and Ben’s so proud of him. “Don’t call me mate in bed,” Callum says, tugging Ben’s bottom lip between his teeth and holding on, eyes bright. He smiles with his whole face, sometimes. Ben loves him.

“Maybe that’s my kink?” Ben’s not sure what makes him say the word and he tenses, wonders if that’s gonna cause another—

Callum makes a face, but then he shrugs. “Doubtful. You’ve never done it before, so,” he nuzzles behind Ben’s ear, whispers right into his ear. Ben can’t hear what Callum’s saying, can’t see him mouth the words, but he feels the puff of air, the vibrations; a shiver runs up his spine, hands on Callum’s shoulder and he digs his nails in, clings against the sensations. When Callum pulls back, he’s smirking. “See? That’s probably a kink, right?”

“Eh,” Ben says, but it comes out more breathless than he’d like. “Just ‘cause I can’t hear.”

“Doubt everyone shivers like that,” Callum says, cocky in a way that just makes Ben love him more. “Or like this.”

Ben frowns, goes to ask what Callum means, but then Callum’s elbows are either side of his head, body pressing Ben down into the mattress. He’s—everywhere. Fuck. Ben groans low in his throat, eyes slipping closed and his hips rolling up against Callum’s. Fuck, yeah, okay maybe this is a kink. “Fine.”

Callum’s smirking, Ben can tell, but he kisses Ben anway. He shifts one elbow, fingers of his left hand in Ben’s hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. Ben opens his eyes and Callum is smirking, but there’s a softness to his expression that tightens Ben’s chest. “Just fine? I’m clearly doing something wrong.”

“You could be naked,” Ben offers.

“I could,” Callum agrees. He leans in and Ben’s expecting a kiss, but Callum’s mouth grazes his jaw instead. Teeth nipping at the curve of his jaw, the length of his neck. Ben stretches, heel of his right leg against Callum’s calf, thrusting up and getting the friction he needs.

“Callum,” Ben says.

Callum sucks lightly at the skin of Ben’s jaw again, teasing the skin between teeth and lips.

“Don’t put a hickey on my jaw,” Ben says, fisting a hand in Callum’s hair. He doesn’t try and make him move, just closes his eyes against the sensations. When Callum hums, Ben lets out a quick breath. “Fuck me already, yeah?”

“Nah,” Callum says. “Maybe I want you to fuck me.”

It’s not like they have a preference; sometimes Ben likes to take it, sometimes he likes to pin Callum down and prove just how much he wants Callum, loves him. Not that he needs sex to prove he loves Callum, but it’s easier than saying it sometimes, is all.

Ben doesn’t wanna say the words, “but I want this,” because as comfortable as he is, that’s still not easy.

Thankfully, Callum knows him. He’s always seen Ben, seen what lies beneath the bravado and the fake shit to the person Ben’s always so keen to bury.

“Or,” Callum says eventually, fingers stroking through Ben’s hair, “I could fuck you.”

Ben opens his mouth, closes it.

Something in Callum’s expression shifts, and there’s worry back in his gaze. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ben says, swallowing down whatever else he was gonna say.

“No lying, remember?”

That fucking promise. Not that Ben resents it; he does wanna be a better person for Callum, even when it’s too hard. Ben shifts them until he’s straddling Callum, staring down into the face of the first person he’s really thought about long term with. Paul is—was—important, but Callum. He’s more. Burying his face in Callum’s neck, he takes a deep breath, relaxes until Callum’s arms come around him, Callum’s face against the side of his head.

“S’just new is all.”

Maybe Callum hears what he doesn’t say because he just kisses Ben’s temple. He taps a finger against Ben’s shoulder and Ben pulls back to look. “It doesn’t have to be a thing.”

Ben knows Callum means it.

Which just makes the whole thing worse.

______

Ben doesn’t wanna dislike any part of himself, which is the definition of irony. ‘Cause somehow, he just can’t seem to stop.

Desperate for his dad’s attention and love when it’s always so conditional.

Wants to be good for Callum, but can’t stop doing everything but.

Loves his daughter enough to be a good role model but doesn’t know how.

An endless circle of fucking up until Ben’s not even sure he can be any of those things anymore.

Now this; hates being cornered, crowded in, except when it’s Callum, he just wants to be fucked against whatever surface he’s backed on to.

It’s not something he can talk to anyone about. Lola is out of the question, his mum, no thanks. Jay’s probably the closest person, but the instant he says kink, Jay’ll tell him to fuck off and change the subject.

So. Inner turmoil it is.

_____

Except Ben’s really gotta stop underestimating Callum.

It’s Lexi that says it;

Curled up against Ben’s chest when she’s sick, feet pressing against Callum’s thigh. Ben’s eye drift down Lexi’s pyjama-clad body to make sure she’s warm enough and sees Callum’s fingers circled against her ankle, rubbing softly. He’s saying something, Ben can see it out of the corner of his eye, and Lexi giggles, touches Ben’s cheek.

“Daddy,” she says, and Ben’s heart still bursts when she half-Signs, half-talks in the way he’s accustomed to. “Hold me tighter.”

“Oh?” Ben says, making a face and wrapping her up tight, kissing her face over and over. She’s still giggling when he pulls away, burrowing in. “Is this tight enough?”

“Yeah,” Lexi says, head tilted back so Ben can see her. He’s so fucking lucky to have her as his kid. “Because Callum says you always gotta be held like this when you don’t feel safe.”

Ben’s heart kick starts in his chest and he doesn’t know what to say. His arms unconsciously tighten on Lexi, which seem to be what she wants, because she curls back up against him, kicking her legs into Callum’s lap. Ben watches Callum’s face as he drags a blanket off the arm of the sofa, drapes it over his legs—and Lexi’s.

“That better, Princess?” Callum says. Inflection isn’t always easy to pick up, but Ben imagines he’s a touch cocky, way too fond.

Lexi answers, vibrations against Ben’s chest, and he leans in, kisses the top of her head.

When she’s out like a light, tucked up in bed, and Callum and Ben are back on the sofa, Ben twists a hand in Callum’s shirt, tugs him down.

“What’s that for?”

“You know what,” Ben grinds out.

Callum shrugs. “Maybe. But it weren’t me you needed to hear it from.”

________

Course, Ben’s not gonna do something with Lexi in the house.

Well. He might, but he doesn’t wanna fuck Callum then and there because the words when you don’t feel safe are still bouncing around inside in his head.

Ben’s always hot for Callum, and doesn’t make a big secret about it. Ben doesn’t find it easy to say I love you or I need you, or to be honest when Callum needs him to be.

Callum doesn’t say anything else; he sits next to Ben, arm around his shoulders, occasionally pressing a kiss to Ben’s head, or his temple. Ben rests a hand on Callum’s stomach, brain now stuck on;

Being crowded against things apparently makes him horny. Or being crowded against things by Callum apparently makes him horny. Being crowded against things makes him feel safe?

It doesn’t make any sense, thoughts circling around in his head until he gets mad about it.

Only one way to test out this theory.

____________

“What the fuck,” Callum says, tilting Ben’s face into the light.

Alright, so maybe testing out his theory didn’t yield the best aesthetic results, but at least Ben knows.

Callum’s lip curls in anger, teeth grinding together until he bites out, “who did this?”

The anger is new; Ben’s used to worry and concern. They’re present, of course, but the anger’s new and not unwelcome.

“It was a test,” Ben says, and blames this new honesty.

It blows some of the steam out of Callum and he frowns. “Testing what?”

“This,” Ben says, and tugs Callum into the hall. “We’re alone, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Callum says slowly. “Everyone’s out, but Ben—”

Ben watches Callum think it through. He’s always liked how smart Callum is. Ben can see the moment he works out, pupils dilating, hands fisting in Ben’s jacket.

“You let someone beat you up,” Callum bites out, pushing Ben towards the hall door. “Wanted to feel ‘em like this, yeah?”

Ben’s back hits wood, Callum’s shadow blocking most of the light from the front door glass. “Callum—”

“Did it feel the same?” Callum asks, one hand still on Ben’s hip, the other on the wall next to Ben’s head. Ben swallows.

“No,” Ben grinds out. “You know it weren’t.”

Callum doesn’t say anything. His hips press against Ben’s pelvis, a steady pressure. He’s gotta feel Ben’s dick against his leg, half-hard and growing.

Ben’s gonna have to use words, is what he gets from that. Closing his eyes, Ben lets himself have a moment. Callum seems willing to give it; fingers against Ben’s jaw, thumb resting against his chin. It’s a lot, even with what Ben’s slowly figuring out, but nothing Ben doesn’t want. “You make me feel safe.”

It’s all he can come up with, but Callum understands. Ben feels the puff of air against his cheek, opens his eyes to see Callum’s soft expression, the heat still in his eyes, and he ducks in, kisses Ben hard.

Ben lets himself drown in the kiss, in the way Callum keeps pressing, until Callum’s every-fucking-where.

Begging isn’t a Mitchell thing.

Except—

“Please,” Ben says, fingers tight in Callum’s shirt, dragging him as close as they can get.

Callum nods, right hand reaching down to unbuckle Ben’s belt.

Ben rocks his head back, neck exposed to Callum’s teeth, and he circles his fingers around Callum’s wrist. “Upstairs.”

“Nah,” Callum says, when he pulls back. “Think I’ll take ya right here.”

It’s not that they always do it in the bedroom, but here, where anyone could walk in?

“I locked it,” Callum offers. “Unless someone’s got a key. Also,” he adds, hand dragging down the zipper of Ben’s fly. “It ain’t like we don’t almost get caught every time.”

Public places have a habit of being unsafe, Ben ponders, and wraps an arm around Callum’s neck. Callum doesn’t wait for the, “Yeah,” Ben puffs out, fingers tugging Ben’s briefs out of the way and wrapping warm around Ben’s cock.

Ben grunts, turns his face into Callum’s neck. “Fuck, Cal.”

Words filter in, some louder than others, but most of it alternating between filthy and soft. Callum never finds the right balance, and always tips Ben into coming too fast, or squirming from the amount of care Callum always wants to throw over him. Today, it feels like too much of both.

Trapped against the door, Callum’s fingers relentless, words vibrating against his throat, it’s all Ben can do to stay standing. Balls tight, he thrusts into the circle of Callum’s hand, fingers bunching the fabric of Callum’s shirt so tight he wonders how it isn’t tearing.

“I’ve got ya,” Callum says, finally where Ben can see him. He leans in, lips against Ben’s. He doesn’t kiss so much as just stay there, breathing in Ben’s groans and harsh breaths. “I’ve always got ya.”

Callum’s said it before. They’re not new, those words.

What’s new is the fact that Ben knows he likes this because it’s Callum; he wants to be crowded, wants to get fucked, wants to feel safe, but only with Callum.

“Cal,” he groans again, shuddering against the sensations.

Callum mumbles something, kisses Ben long and deep, body thick against him, shadows draping Ben into a darkness that makes him think no one to get me here.

The orgasm catches him by surprise, has him shaking so hard he’s sure he’d be on his knees if Callum wasn’t hanging on to him.

“Alright?” Callum asks eventually, feather light kisses brushing against Ben’s hairline.

“Ask me again in a minute,” Ben says, wondering what Callum sees in his expression to have him smile so brightly it almost hurts to look at. “Just let me stay here for a minute, alright?”

Callum nods, tugging Ben into a tight hug.

Ben goes willingly, face turned into Callum’s neck.

It ain’t always gonna be perfect, doesn’t mean the world’s suddenly brighter or anything but yeah.

The sex is definitely gonna be a lot hotter from now on.

Ben lets himself wonder if he’s finally found someone who’ll put him first all the time.

Yeah, he thinks. Maybe.

#eastenders fic #ballum fic #ballum #callum highway #ben mitchell #fic by me #help #i have fallen #and cannot get up #otp: i'd still do you #q

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stanzoeywade · 4 years

Text

Dating Poppy Min-Sinclair

I lowkey headcanon Poppy to look like blonde Chungha, and omfg she looks so good in this gif.

Summary: An enemies to friends to lovers trope, sign me the fuck up. I hope you guys enjoy and if you want more please like or reblog. If you want to be added to the tag list please reply. :) I'm also working on the third part of my Poppy x MC series and I oop I'm gay.

Taglist: @somewillwin @origmansello @kamilahtrash @poppysminion @captain-hanadeleine

SFW

It was hate at first sight (sure, jan), but in all honesty your first impression of Poppy was that she was gorgeous. The scowl on her face did nothing to change your mind. The very first words she uttered to you was "Oh, sweetheart, you don't have to worry about who she is. It's me you have to worry about.

As soon as those words leave her mouth, the only part of the sentence your brain focuses on is the word 'sweetheart' and the way she said it, voice dripping with sarcasm. It did nothing to stop you from thinking how hot Poppy was.

You're suddenly pulled away by Zoey, who tells you about the whole ranking system and she takes you out to hang out at a speakeasy, with your new outfit.

In order to get your mind off of Poppy, you decide to flirt with the stranger at the bar (who ends up being Professor Kingsley), but even as you spent time and slept with them, all you could imagine was Poppy, and how she would feel under you.

You learn that Poppy was the resident HBIC of campus, and a sort of rivalry forms between the two of you.

Poppy won't admit it to anyone but she actually found you attractive when she first saw you, even though you were wearing non-designer clothes. Probably annoyed that she actually found you attractive, she acts extra mean, because she's confused and not good with feelings. (PB please let me romance Poppy)

Not anyone is safe from Poppy's wrath, and its extra hard for you because she becomes extra mean, her words are harsher and actually stings a little.

Poppy seems shocked that you actually got hurt, and opens her mouth about to apologise until she remember that she's the queen bee, she doesn't apologise.

You don't back down and insults are exchanged between the two of you, whenever you meet or bump into each other.

Poppy actually starts to look forward to your banter with each other, and she makes an effort to bump into you a bit more.

When you learn of Kick-off day, you and the quarterbacks team up to create a performance for half-time.

Poppy for sure gets annoyed because who do you think you are trying to compete with her, the queen of Belvoire.

After you show her up and kiss Zoey, she feels a pang of jealousy, which she mistakes and takes out as anger against you. She has a meltdown, breaks up with Carter and everyone stares and start to berate her.

Poppy walks out the field and you run after her, feeling shitty because even if she was mean, she didn't deserve to be shit on in public like that. You feel really bad and run after Poppy to make sure she's okay.

You catch up to Poppy find her all the way on the other side of the campus, she's by herself and you see her crying her eyes out. Her eyes are red, and once you see her your heart breaks a little because seeing her like that made you feel like the worst human being, especially since she was crying because of you. Even though, she's crying she looks as beautiful as ever and you can't help but stare.

You approach her and she notices and sneers at you. "Come to kick me when I'm down? Go ahead, newbie. Here's your chance."

And if you thought you couldn't feel worse, you felt you heart break even more as the words escapes her lips.

You put your hands up in surrender and let out a sigh. "Look, you don't have to believe me but I just really wanted to apologise. Even if you were being mean, you don't deserve that." She eyes you suspiciously and says "What's it to you if I'm upset, Farmsville? Just fuck off, I don't need your pity."

Not backing down, you stare at her in the eyes and say sincerely. "I never really wanted to be part of this stupid ranking thing you guys have, I don't even want to be the queen bee. Especially, if it means that you or anyone else gets hurt in the process."

Poppy looks at you stunned, like she can't decipher why you're being so nice to her, and you continue "Plus, I can't say I didn't enjoy our banter, that was fun." You wink at her cheekily and she can't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

You smile at her softly, happy that you managed to make her feel a little but better and you realise that Poppy has such a soft laugh and you want to hear it again.

Poppy's eyes soften as she stops crying. She looks at you and says "Thanks Farmsville, I needed that." You don't know whether your eyes are playing trick on you but you can swear that you can see her blush.

Meanwhile, Poppy feels her cheeks burn and her heart beat a bit faster. 'Damn you for being sweet.'

Smiling sincerely, you ask "Truce?" and Poppy raises her eyebrow at you amused but agrees albeit nonchalantly.

This then starts your sort of friendship with Poppy, but instead of hurling insults at each other, the both of you engage in playful banter (no one knows that you guys are friends). She turns a bit softer, in a way where she always looks at you with an inquisitive gaze to check if you were okay with the banter.

Cue the late night messages, where the both of you stay up late to talk about random nonsense that happened that day, or when Poppy's annoyed she sends you rants where she complains about how stupid everyone is, and vice versa.

Both of you being confused af because is she flirting with me or is she being nice???? (basically is he gay or European but lesbian) The two of you have each other's back, if someone says shit about either of you the other one is quick to defend. Zoey notices your change in attitude towards Poppy and she asks why you're defending your "enemy". You shrug it off by saying "If they're gonna say shit, they should say it to her face, not talk behind her back." Zoey finds that a little bit suspicious, but she doesn't say anything.

This then leads to an actual good support system for both of you, and an actual friendship is formed.

This is when Poppy realises that she actually has feelings for you, and she's quick to yeet out of there, because ewww feelings. She starts to act distant and you're confused because you think you did something wrong.

It's not that Poppy wants to avoid you, she's just really confused about her feelings and she doesn't want to ruin the friendship you two have. Chloe notices that Poppy is acting weird and decides to confront her about it.

Whilst Chloe is usually oblivious, even she suspects that something is going on between the two of you, and she begins to ask Poppy questions. That's when she finds out that Poppy has feelings for you. After her small 'EUREKA!' moment Chloe decides to tease Poppy, and queen bee is not amused. "If you tell anyone that I have a crush on her, I will have you cremated and eaten by the dogs." yells Poppy as Chloe just laughs in amusement.

Chloe lowkey trying to be a wingman, but Poppy tells her off and you just think that Chloe's just being weird, and it just confuses you even more. Like what???

Mutual pining, because the both of you are too stubborn to confess how you feel. Poppy just doesn't even know what to do because feelings. And you don't know whether she likes you back and don't want to risk your newfound friendship with her.

Cue Poppy seeing you flirt with someone else, (Carter, Zoey or Veronica or whoever) and Poppy loses her shit because she's jealous.

Thinking with anger and not her head, Poppy decides to kiss you in front of the whole school. Long story short, everyone sees and it's all over social media, that's how they find out that the queen bee has staked her claim.

Poppy is touch starved and craves affection. This probably comes with the fact that her parents weren't really the affectionate type, which is why she acts the way she does. Her parents probably ingrained it into her head that she has to be #1 for everything and anything below that is the same as being nothing.

She would never admit it but Poppy adores cuddling and lazy days where the both of you just chill out and share soft and sweet kisses, in which neither of you stop until your lips are bruised.

She's also the little spoon (fite me), and you don't mind because she's so soft and you're weak for her.

Poppy is also the type to pamper you with expensive ass gifts, even when you tell her that she doesn't have to give you anything, but it makes her happy so you're happy.

Waking up next to her is probably the equivalent of seeing an angel. She looks so peaceful when she's asleep and you can't help but stare because you don't have the heart to wake her up.

Poppy can't cook for shit, because why would she need to know how to cook, she's rich??? Probably so bougie she's never had fast food in her life, so the first thing you do is take her ass to McDonald's.

Arguments usually occur when both of you are stressed and this leads to angry make out sessions where both of you are marked up with hickeys for everyone to see.

This girl needs some TLC, so please be gentle and patient because she's not used to affection.

NSFW HCs

People probably think that Poppy's a pillow princess and sometimes you joke and tease her about it, but in all honesty she can top. Her strap game is impeccable, 10000/10 would reccomend again.

When you go down on her she always tugs at your hair, and you can't help but groan as her nails brush against your scalp. Additionally when she's bottoming, she becomes a little bratty and you have no choice but to play rough and she doesn't mind.

When the two of you argue, this can lead to some intense angry sex, all bets are off when you're arguing, everything is messy, rough and passionate. The two of you don't remember the reason why you were arguing after.

The moans, groans and noises that comes out of Poppy's mouth is music to your ears. It's probably the sexiest thing you've ever heard, and you can't get enough.

When she rides the strap, it's the hottest thing you've ever seen. The way her sweat clings to her body making it glisten, and the way her body moves and convulses as she's riding makes you go insane. 10000/10 would do again.

The type to annoy you by sexting you in class, purposely riling you up, she especially enjoys annoying you when it's Professor Kingsley's class because she's petty like that. It gets to the point where you're so riled up that you just get up and leave class. She loves sending you photos with nothing on but her underwear, almost always pink or white. It's one of her favourite past times really. You can't even get angry because each photo is so good so you can't complain.

She's also the type of girl to get flustered when you sext her back, and it's honestly the cutest thing. It becomes a game of who can rile up the other person more.

These are just my headcanons and you don't have to agree with them hope you enjoyed reading. :)

#poppy min sinclair #poppy x mc #queen b poppy #queen b choices #queen b #queen b zoey #veronica lombardi #playchoices #choices stories you play #choices hcs #this is just my headcanons #makepoppyali2020 #poppydailychallenge #squint squint im working on another part of the fic but enjoy this first lmaoooooo #chloe st. james #chloe queen b

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steponmepinkjun · 3 years

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I NEVER FINISHED MY STORY OMG. ok so i left off at being too proud to tell my friend she was right and kpop fucked hard. the difference between u and me is that i’m too good of a liar. too good. i kept up the “i hate kpop it’s cringe” facade for ALMOST TWO WHOLE YEARS, I SHIT YOU NOT. why? bc my dumb ass, extra ass, dramatic ass self thought “ok if i’m gonna have to deal with the embarrassment of admitting i’m wrong, i better do it in such an extra ass way it’ll knock ur socks off so hard that YOULL be the one embarrassed not me.” the original plan was to learn the entire choreography to bts dope, bc it’s the song that she told me to listen to and inevitably the song that got me into them, but later switched to bts fire bc i saw too many of those “choreo matches w any song” videos, and then her birthday party came up. and here’s the real kicker. her birthday is April Motherfuckin Fools. so it would be So Perfect for me to reveal my kpopism as a birthday present And a april fools prank in one. so i was Set on the Reveal being on april 1st, but the day rolls around and god that choreo is so fucking hard and i am Not a dancer. never have been. so i abandon that and go ykno what… i’ll do it Next Year. BC MY BITCHASS WAS LIKE NO THE MOMENT IS TOO PERFECT TO DO IT ON A NORMAL ASS DAY ITS GONNA BE ON APRIL FOOLS ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY OR NOT AT ALL. a year rolls by, i’ve told most of our friends except her and they’re all in on it, i’d made so many subtle kpop references to her without her realising they were fully intentional and had too many scares where she almost figured me out but i lied my way out of it, and i’d given up on showing off with choreography bc i couldn’t make that shit look good. i’m not a dancer. i am, however, a rapper, and a damn good one, so i inhaled the agust d mixtape and decided i’d just rap the eminem of kpop’s anthem at her face. in korean. and change the lyrics at the end (if u haven’t listened to agust d, the bridge repeats “i’m sorry” a lot) to “i’m sorry i kept this from u for so long” and “i’m sorry i actually ult got7 not bts” (this was like the april after skz debuted ok i was holding onto got7 for dear life knowing full well skz we’re going to convert me smh) and the best part? she never saw it coming. her official present was a cd with a bunch of kpop on it but she thought it was just a personalised mixtape for her so i told her to play the first song out loud and she knew the song Instantly. it has a long intro so she was like “i guess u did listen when i recommended u this song!! i knew you’d like it since u like rap so much!!” and then i started rapping and i shit u not. she started SCREAMING. like the initial reaction was her jaw dropping and then instinctively covering her mouth but when i kept going and she realised i wasn’t fucking around she just fucking screamed like a banshee. at the end during the sorry bit i threw off my jacket to reveal a got7 shirt on the inside and she fell off her chair and started rolling around on the floor. needless to say it was every bit as satisfying as i thought it’d be LMAOOOO afterwards her ass was like “I CANT BELIEVE U HID THIS FROM ME FOR OVER A YEAR” and when i tried to explain my ego couldn’t take the “i told u so” she was like “you know i wouldn’t have made fun of you for it right? i would just be glad you’re not hating on my boys anymore” so basically i’m a big dramatic fool and she was always too good for me.

don’t mind the weird spaces here my ipad is being all fucky wucky w me rn. damn sad to hear ur sideblog experience didn’t go so well, i’d have shown u the cool side of the fandom if i knew 😤😤 leading u thru the cursed halls of kpop stan tumblr like a sketchy tour guide that’s actually 3 small raccoons stacked on top of each other like a trench coat, like “over here we have the fanfic writers that honestly need to publish a book, over here we have the gif makers that are responsible for my entire camera roll, if we take a quick swerve past the death threat anons and the twt fanwar screenshots - mind ur feet bub the 14 year olds were tryna make a grab for ur ankles - ah here’s the holy grail of shitposts, you might be here for hours, to the right we have the weird aussie side of the fandom that projects our childhoods onto chanlix but also all the members as we decide what their life in australia would’ve been like, and down there is a secret trapdoor to the blogs w endless random headcanons that will make you laugh, cry or blush depending on if the author woke up and decided to choose violence today. enjoy your Stay!” but then again i’m not so active on tumblr anymore (ngl you’ve become the highlight of my tumblr experience these days, interaction wise,) so maybe all my Local Hotspots are inactive now. i know a bunch of them are, it’s sad. “i don’t fw stan twitter for the same reason i don’t hang out in meth dens” oop. guess i’m a meth addict. no but i get u i rly do, it’s a hellhole out there, but the fact that things get shared and spread a lot easier than on tumblr and how short most things have to be (therefor keeping up w my adhd attention span without having to resort to the mental torture that is tiktok, with the added bonus of not always needing headphones.) that i just. couldn’t leave if i tried. maybe i should try being active on tumblr again but it’s a dying site in comparison.

“their music doesn’t consistently hit for me as much as skz” i’m sorry we can’t be friends anymore. what. what. you don’t dramama ramama ramama hey? you don’t feel a little jealousyyyyyy, naega anin? you don’t shoot out, shoot out, shoot out, or aremdaeun love killa love killa? you can’t be your hero du du du du du du du du du dududu? u disappoint me. literally like everyone i know who likes skz music likes mx music like it’s a rite of Passage. they’re kindred spirits, monsta x music is like skz’s music’s cool but mildly heterosexual older brother. neither of them know what a bad song is it runs in the family. and both their music runs in my VEINS. whenever i describe my music taste they’re always the first two that come to mind, skz being my number 1 bc they are my best boys but mx bc of the Flavour. pls listen to the entire the code album then get back to me 😤🙌 ok but fr ur so right they are 7 of the finest men i ever seen (yes i say 7 bc i’m including wonho cause he deserved better and i’ll die on my ot7 bullshit.) like don’t get me started on them either LOL i LITERALLY downloaded that one insta video of changkyun working out his back n arm muscles w his tattoo showing bc i needed that shit saved for Science. they could do Anything w me like frfr. yes vixx is the bdsm contract group i’m telling ya they wildin. or at least they were. it’s been years since their last comeback idk what they’re doing anymore tbh. and yeah that makes sense, savouring the hyperfixation i feel it, but also i’m so attached to skz that i never let it die. like i hyperfixate on other things and other groups but i will Always go back to skz cause they’re my homeboys. hell, they’re my home. being a predebut stay i’ve spent more time w skz than most of my actual family members at this point. but that’s just me you do u boo xx just know that if ur anything like me ur never letting go once skz it’s been my longest lasting fixation cause they hit like Nothing Else Do. ik i’ve already said that but i cannot stress it enough. they’re really special. i’m gonna stop here before i get all sappy and emotional bc i really love those boys so fucking much and i don’t drop the L bomb often. SIDE NOTE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE UR LIST OF GROUPS RANKED BY THORSt. i need to judge ur Taste. and omg cat&dog is such a guilty pleasure song bc the lyrics make me cringe so much bc while pet play can be fun they be doing it in more of an “i’m an innocent soft dogboy uwu” kinda way that just Does Not Sit Right with me. it comes back to the objectifying of asians that asians themselves don’t help in industries like these and maybe i’m looking too far into it when rly it is just wholesome n cute or maybe they are into some pet play shit idk idc i will bop to the song regardless but i will not acknowledge the lyrics nope.

YOURE RIGHT THO SKZ’S OPENNESS IS IN FACT, A BIG DEAL, i’ll grab them for u if u want but i found these twt threads of skz supporting the lgbt community and i just felt a special kind of happiness man like sure the delusional part of me likes going “haha they’re gay” bc my brain likes to imagine them as my polycule of mlm boyfriends bc sometimes thats what gives me the serotonin to get me thru the day ok don’t judge but also bc it’s nice knowing that yes i’ll never know them personally, but at least i can support them knowing they’d respect my gender identity and my pronouns, they’d respect who i choose to love, and that’s already more than the general public can say so shit, it is special! it’s special that they don’t treat being cishet like the norm - they constantly remove gender from their songs and speech entirely, they don’t assume all stays are female anymore, we don’t talk abt the babygirls incident cause we got babystays in the end outta that ok, and it’s just. so refreshing and important to me bc i can’t get that anywhere else!! like my semi ults are the boyz and while i love them very much and there’s no way all 11 of them are straight i refuse, i do get just a little bit sad whenever they she/her their fandom by default and call them their girlfriends n shit even tho i do still identify as a girl, i’m also genderfluid/nonbinary/transmasc, and i have a very love/hate relationship w my womanhood and rarely use she/her pronouns, cause it’s like, do you not see me? see us? the ones who aren’t cishet women? i mean i know kevin does bc he congratulated a fan who came out as nb but it’s just not the same as the openness we get w skz. like how do i trust cishets i could be supporting them as a queer person when in reality they’d call me a slur. what would i know, behind the screen? so it’s so good that skz go the extra mile to make it a safe space for everyone. this is already long enough i will reply to the second half of that ask in another message… tomorrow cause it’s 1am and i’m tired gn -felix bi anon

I'mma have to start putting these under a readmore so that i don't absolutely make everything who is still following me for some reason go totally fucking insane 😂

NDJDHWJJAHFNAKBSJSBFBHHDBDNAJD YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FACES I WAS MAKING READING THIS, I WAS FUCKING CACKLING AND GASPING EVERY OTHER SENTENCE SO HARD THAT I SCARED THE CATS NDJWHSHSB the fact that you went "oh you want me to get into kpop? Give me a hot minute, and I'll give you a whole ass private concert for free" biduehsjdbd biiiiiiiiiiitch you're a fucking ICON, I stg I could NEVER 😂 (and not just because I couldn't find a tune if you gave me a printed set of Google maps directions and that I embody the steriotype that white people can't dance, like my sister kept sensing me tiktoks of the whole "dance like a white girl" trend going lmfao look it's you and eventually I was like "sis please this trend has me feeling like being white is a disability and these mothafuckers are being ableist 😭 also I could NEVER be that on beat so yall ain't even doin it right 😭😭😭😭"). Tbh if I told one of my friends (lol what friends, i got jokes) to get into Skz and they showed up at my bday and performed the entirety of I Got It I would simply shower them in money and go "aight everyone else go home, you are no longer needed, you are being laid off, your position has been eliminated, we're downsizing, the company is moving up and you're moving out, you are not qualified for this role any longer, best of luck with future endeavors" 😊

I think part of the reason I can't deal w Twitter is the exact reason I refuse to leave tumblr, in that I've been on tumblr since 2006 and twt since 2008, and tumblr literally has not changed at all, not even a little, whereas going from the early days of twt where there were no corporate sponsorships or ads and you had to manually copy and paste someone's tweet and @ them to retweet it, to how it is now, like 90% ads and showing me shit from the timelines of people I don't even fuckin follow n whatnot, it's just not enjoyable. Idk how anyone finds anything on twt, it confuses and frustrates me because I am old and have not adapted well to technology changing 😂 But arguably, the skz fanbase doesn't want me on skztwt anyways so like it works for both of us lmfaooo. I am old and cringey, and also still think of twt as stream of consciousness whereas tumblr is your teenage bedroom where you can decorate the walls with anything that interests you. I do really love the nonsensical kpoptwt shitposts tho fhshsbdjjss like it is a very specific flavor of mental instability that I enjoy immensely 😂 OH and also I initially misread part of that and thought you were saying you actually irl do meth and I was like 😳 WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT. HOW DO I HANDLE THIS. Like how do I express like "I wasn't being judgy of people who use substances cause I've been there but I was just being insensitive 😳" And then went back and reread it and was like WHEW, IM JUST AN ILLITERATE FOOL 😂😂😂😂 ejeywhdhrhjwbfbdjshdhdhd I spent like an hour bwign like "IS THE REASON WE GET ALONG BECAUSE THEY'RE ON METH???? WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS INFORMATION??????" hrhehshe I am literally a fuckin idiot it's fine

It's not that I don't fw them, it's more like... Okay so like there is no situation in which I am going to skip a skz song if it comes on shuffle. You will not ever catch me NOT in the mood to listen to Sunshine, if God's Menu comes on we are THROWIN the meager amount of booty meat I got hither and thither, I could be in the happiest mood of my life but if Ex comes on I will stop to SOB. And I'm not like that with most music, so mx just falls into the category of "there is a time and place." Idk why but it just doesn't forcibly grab hold of my heart and ass the way skz always does. I really don't WANT my skz fixation to ever end, but I know that eventually it'll stop giving me dopamine bevause my brain is my worst fucking enemy 🙃 like my arcana fixation is to date the longest running hyperfixation I've ever had, going on almost three years, and I used to not be able to spend every single second of every day thinking about Asra, but now... I just feel nothing when I look at arcana stuff. As you can probz tell by the fact that I hardly post arcana anymore 😂 So I know that eventually all my happiness will end, it always does, I can never stay just as obsessed with something as I was for long. I CANT SHARE THE LIST BECAUSE I DONT *HAVE* TASTE YET 😭 I'm basically just compiling a list of any group someone tells me I should look into, ranked by how strong the kitty purred upon googling pics of them 😂 My mom read my ass to FILTH over txt lmfao she was like "they're not that adorable. Maybe your standard for adorableness has gone down with You Know Who still on hiatus 🤔" bfjwhdhd like MOMMAAAAA THE LIBRARY IS CLOSED 😂 she attacks me any time I even hint at stanning other groups, she is a skz purist and stans skz only, unofficial Momma Stay of All Stays keeping me in check lmfao.

I feel like skz really do follow thru on their promise that they're a safe space for stays, it's nice to see that they hold space for anyone and everyone in their fanbase and do it in a really simple and elegant way, I feel. Like they never make it seem like "okay here are the fans and here are the token weirdos that were only recognizing to make a buck off of them" the way a lot of artists make it feel like 😑 like they don't go out of their way to act like it's some revolutionary act to do the bare minimum of not shitting on certain parts of the fandom, if that makes sense. They feel very "yeah, of course we love all our stays, this is a welcoming space for literally anyone, that's how it should be, that should be normal," instead of like "Hi fans we love you 😊 and special shoutout to you ell gee bee tee folk, make sure to buy my rainbow merch after the show!!!" you know? Like, they're the friends who would never make you feel weird or different for some shit, the friends that take the attention off you if something they know ur sensitive about comes up, instead of weirdly snapping at whoever brought the unfomfy thing up which ruins the mood and makes you feel tiwce as bad, yk? They just give off this vibe that they, and the space they create with their music, is just a genuine and chill place to be and hang out and relax and bond. I feel like they'd be the friend group that is so goofy and sweet and silly and accepting and lovely and always makes you feel loved and excited to be alive 🥺 They are all good noodles 🥺🥺🥺

#felix-bi-anon #asksteppie

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