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#we’re both white as hell btw
troutlawyer · 6 months
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My brother, watching Paheli with me, stoned off his gourd: Hey, did you know this movie takes place in a part of India?
Me, also stoned off my gourd:
My brother:
Me:
My brother:
Me: …Obviously???
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absdoll · 5 months
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abby jerking off her strap while r is fingering their 🐱💕💕
mmm so hot & yummy i love this <3 i’m sorry it’s short , maybe i’ll rewrite it soon ! mwah
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abby loves control. while obviously she wants to fuck you, make you take every inch, begging her to ease up while also begging her for more. today she wants to see you all pathetic and needy. putty in her hands.
abby loves watching you totally desperate and aching for her, knowing how badly you wish your fingers filled you up the way her thick strap does. the tall blonde is towering over you as you lie on the bed. she wraps her big hand around her girth, as you whine and moan around your dainty fingers. she begins to stroke her dick. you bring your hand to your mouth, sucking your white slick off your pink painted nails. “how’s it taste baby?“ she taunts, “bet you wish you were sucking that off my cock.” the blonde lets out a small grunt when the base of her strap hits her clit.
your fingers dive into your wet hole again, your sweet nectar leaking down your legs. abby’s got a steady pace going on her silicone member, never taking her eyes off your glistening pussy. the tall blonde throws her head back, the sensation of the constant friction against her needy clit is getting her closer to her peak.
“go faster princess, fuck yourself the way i would fuck you” she huffs through gritted teeth, “cmon baby fucking faster, i know you can do it.” you add another finger, now three hitting up against your g-spot.
“mmm just like thaaat baby, doing so good for me.” abby says shakily, awaiting her release.
as you both continue to fuck yourselves into oblivion, the pit of your stomach starts to feel warm and fuzzy, your vision dizzying. “i’m c-close abs.” you warn her, biting down on your lip as you go cross eyed due to the pleasure.
“hold it in pretty girl, i’m almost there. fuuuuckkk.” abby demands. but the way your fingers are moving, combined with how fucking hot abby looks all flustered and close to her orgasm. she’s vigorously pumping her cock in one hand, the other groping your breasts, twisting your sore nipples.
“i’m gonna c-cum abs ahh-gh i’m c-cumming!” you exclaim in pleasure. abby looks down at you, watching as you release your sweet syrup all over your fingers and palm. with one final jerk of her strap, she’s a blabbering, fucked out mess. “fucking hell baby, ugh uh uhhh fuck!”
you smile up at your girlfriend, “that was so hot abs” you blush. “we’re just getting started doll” she smirks as she flips you over, ass exposed as she lays a loud smack across it. “up on your elbows.”
you brace for her 8 inches to completely destroy you.
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a / n : this is rushed i’m sorry :( but hope u nasty sluts still enjoy it hehe ♡ reqs are still open for now btw !
💗 @whore4abby @hersweetheart @enbesbians 💕
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gh0stsp1d3r · 1 year
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Tangerines and deers- Part 1
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Tangerine x reader
Mentions of: getting laid but no actual getting laid (ik ik sad) murder (obviously)
You’re ladybugs partner, And you just happen to run into some cute British guy.
If you want to be added to the tag list, message me
Ladybug and you made your way through the train, he just happened to run into the same conductor. You had your ticket, but he didn’t have his.
He told him to leave, and then you quickly moved to the side of the train and Ladybug did the same as he saw the gun in the man’s hand.
“Joburg.”
“What?”
“I’ve seen him before.. fuck.” Ladybug whispered to you, as you two ran back. He ran into a person who was dressed up. They both fell to the ground, and the person dressed up grabbed the briefcase and would not let go of it.
“Give it!”
You sighed and kicked it in the back, making the person in the suit fall again and the briefcase went the other way.
“Thanks.” Ladybug said, grabbing it as they ran to the exit. But the door closed as soon as they got there.
“Ah shitballs! That wasn’t a minute.”
“Ehh.. I really think they should give people more than a minute.“ you said.
“Agreed.” He sighed.
————————————————————-
“Shit! Fuck! No.” He said, while on the phone with Marie.
“Shit fuck. what?”
“Oh deer.”
You were behind the man with the mustache, not even paying attention to who he was. You had split up with ladybug to see if anything was suspicious but really he was annoyed by you sometimes.
While you scrolled on your phone you accidentally ran into him.
“Oh uh- 申し訳ありませんでした。私は注意を払っていませんでした.”
“Uh- sorry. I don’t speak Japanese.”
“Oh, shit, I’m really sorry, sir. I wasn’t paying attention and-“
“No, no, you’re fine.” He said, with a small smile.
(Aaron Taylor Johnson is 5’11 btw…)
You would admit, he was very attractive. And very British.
You continued talking with him and told him you were trying to find your friend.
Then, you entered and got quickly pulled aside by someone. His phone buzzed and he looked behind to see if the woman was still behind him.
Nope. Weird, she just disappeared. He thought.
Ladybug covered your mouth, you quickly swatted his hands away from your face as he watched the man carefully.
“Hello?” He said.
“The white death wanted to know why you stepped off train.” The man on the other end had said.
“Wanted some fresh air.” He replied.
“Your orders were to stay on the train.”
“I didn’t realize I was gettin’ a babysitter to come cut my bollocks. I’m a professional. We’re making sure the case and his son are perfectly safe. Can I please go do my job now?”
“If something is go wrong…” the man said but he hung up.
“Oh, very kind of you. Thank you very much. See a pretty girl and then she disappears. Of course.” He said, looking around again. He put his phone in his pocket and looked in the mirror before he saw something.
Wait, pretty?
“Fuck me! Jesus Christ.” He jumped.
“It’s very rude, talking on the phone, on the train in Japan.” Ladybug said. And the man came up to him and noticed you from earlier.
“This your friend?” He said looking at you, in disbelief.
“Nope. Don’t know this guy at all.”
“Unbelievable.” The Brit scoffed and closed the curtain.
“Shove that fuckin’ hat up your fuckin’ asshole, you hear me?”
Ladybug struggled to restrain himself.
“Fuck this job.”
“What the hell was that for? You ruined my chances at getting laid. Again. For a fifth time.”
“Because, that’s one of the twins. And he was looking for the case.”
“Twins?“
“Yeah. Not really though. They look nothing alike.”
———
“I knew we should have got an upgrade. Fuck all.” Tangerine said as he walked past a girl.
“I beg your pardon, sorry. I- I wasn’t aware there was a young lady present. Apologize.” He stopped before asking another question “You didn’t happen to see someone come by with a silver briefcase, did ya? There’s a little train sticker by the handle.”
“Actually, yeah, a man with black framed glasses had it. He said something about a deer. He went that way.” She pointed to the way he came from.
The man sighed heavily.
“Thank you, love.” He went over there.
“That fucking bastard.” He talked to himself.
Lemon got a text.
“GUY IN BLACK GLASSES.”
“GIRL WITH H/C HAIR.”
“STOP THEM.”
A man suddenly sat across from him, and a girl stood beside the table.
“Hi. There’s a gun under this table—“
“Shhh. This is the quiet car. Gotta use your small inside voice in here, son.”
Ladybug spoke quietly now “There’s a gun underneath this table pointed right at you, so I would-“
“I can’t really hear what you’re saying.”
“There’s a gun-“ he spoke louder now.
A lady shushed him. And lemon laughed.
“You shhh.” You mocked her.
“I’m just fuckin’ with you, mate.”
“It’s been a long time since Johannesburg.”
“Yeah. Who the fuck are you two?”
“I’m deer, He’s-“ you started before getting cut off by ladybug.
“Really. You don’t remember me?”
“You look like every white homeless man I’ve ever seen.”
“I do not- do I?” He looked at you.
“You kinda do. But you also look like a less attractive version of Ethan Hawke.”
“Okay. Well, I have something I believe your- Really? You don’t remember me?” He took off his glasses.
“I remember Johannesburg but I don’t remember you.”
“You shot me.”
“I shoot a lot of people.”
“You shot me twice.”
“Well you also have a shootable face.”
You snickered silently and he just gave you a look.
“It’s funny, what? Looks like you’re not the only comedian on this train.”
“I know your black framed glasses and you’re h/c hair. The cheeky fuckers who took our briefcase.”
“Yes. Yes, we are.”
“Mm..”
“You know, I’ve done a lot of personal work since Joburg. I’ve forgiven, I’ve moved on. I’ve learned that with any potential conflict there’s an opportunity for growth, a path to a peaceful outcome. That’s what I’m trying to teach this little fucker.” He pointed to you, and you just rolled your eyes.
“We’re both contract killers. There’s nothing nice about murder.” you said.
“Yeah but you’re more of an asshole than me.”
And so ladybug went on and on about how he tried to change the way he worked and blah blah blah.
“Uh, real quick, Every day is a fucking headache with you, innit?”
“Yup.” You sighed, sitting down next to the sleeping man on the other side.
“Right. You and your partner-“
“I’m Lemon, hes tangerine.”
“Oh yeah, do you by any chance have his number?” You asked his partner.
“I do.. why?”
“No reason.” You smirked.
“Ignore her. Wait, lemon like.. the fruit?”
“Blessings.”
“Mm.”
“What’s your plan here?” Lemon asked.
“Here’s the plan, me and my partner give you back your cases, you don’t kill us. You give your case to your employer, he doesn’t kill you. You’re alive, we’re alive, everyone’s happy. Win- win don’t you think?”
“How do you know whoever hired you won’t kill you for failing your job? Lose- lose. No happy.”
“Man, I just wanna get off this train. Go see a Zen garden and some shit, you know?”
“After this can we can go see a zen garden? I quite like those.” You thought of last weekend when he took you to one.
“Sure.”
“I’d like to accept your offer.” Lemon said
“Great.”
“But then you went and killed someone. Didn’t you?”
“How did you know…?”
“Wasn’t exactly subtle.”
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vaguely-concerned · 29 days
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A Stitch In Time First Read Reactions & Thoughts Monster Post Part 1
Basically exactly what it says on the tin! I kept making notes while I was reading and somehow it grew into this sprawling monstrosity that had to be split into three parts haha. In short: I loved this book, 10/10 incredibly gay and full of yearning Garak is there the whole time would recommend. 
Quotes from the book in normal text, my reflections, reactions and self-indulgent bits in italics :) Please, please only click on that read-more if you're ready for some truly long-winded nonsense, I fear I have gone and been extremely myself about this and I can only beg your forbearance for it while I get it out of my system lol
Part 2, Part 3
- My dear Doctor:
Forgive my delay in responding to your kind communications. I wanted to give this modest chronicle I’ve enclosed a modicum of organization and update it before I sent it on to you. Thank you for your concern. I have thought of you often since our last meeting, and I am pleased to hear that your life on Deep Space 9 remains challenging and productive. Considering all the changes that have taken place I would have expected nothing less. And I’m certainly not surprised that your research proposals have been accepted. You’re a brilliant young scientist—even if you are genetically enhanced. As for my life here …
This is such a deceptively innocuous and normal-sounding beginning to what is about to be an extremely unnormal and unhinged thing to send a friend as a letter. He made it all of one paragraph of keeping it chill and I honestly think that’s pretty impressive all things considered. Thankfully Julian Bashir — who, let’s not forget, gave Jadzia his fucking diaries to read after much shorter acquaintanceship than what what we’re operating on here — is possibly the one person in the galaxy with the unhinged energy to take it.  
(‘I have thought of you often’ he says. And how., as we shall see)
- Yes—I’m afraid you weren’t expecting this response to your kind inquiry; it goes a bit further than “Greetings from Cardassia—Wish you were here.”
Fhksjdfhasdkj well. In spirit that is exactly what you’re saying tho garak fhdskjaas. It’s just that you’re also pathologically incapable of shutting the hell up and for this I love and treasure you. 
- So why Captain Sisko is so upset with me because I accomplished the goal (which he established!) of getting Romulus into the war against the Dominion baffles me. And it’s not because of the few lives that were sacrificed. Federation expansion has taken a toll in countless life-forms—about most of which they are blissfully unaware. The moment you step into a garden and begin to cultivate and prune, you become a killer. Perhaps the captain was upset because he had hesitated to do what was necessary to insure the integrity of his garden. Sentimentality is another trait that makes humans dangerous.
*Garak voice* Julian please tell me why your boss is so mad at me I literally solved all his problems for him. for which he’s wELCOME btw
Eyes open for recurring metaphors about gardeners, Tolan is haunting this narrative and it’s only polite to say hello whenever he shows up
- Indulge me, if you will; I need you as a witness.
Can I just say how fucking wild it is in terms of character development for Garak to openly admit he needs someone interpersonally. Incredibly fucked up that he writes both parts of this directly to Julian, though — both the part where he’s pretty sure he’s going to die trying to free Cardassia from the Dominion, and the ‘now’ timeline on post-war Cardassia where he seems to be dazedly coming to the realization that he might live, actually, and what that means to him. 
- As a child I would go to the Tarlak Sector with Father, and while he supervised his crews I’d play by myself amid the black-and-white angularity of the monuments, imagining myself a great gul or legate giving the funeral oration for a fallen comrade. 
Already we are starting to spot the thread, if you’ll excuse the expression, of why Garak might be Like That
I also came to admire Damar’s idealism, which led him to renounce his allegiance to the Dominion. If he had one weakness it was his propensity for long-winded speeches. But given the fact that none of us are perfect, the man would have made a fine leader.
As I stood at the memorial service, I thought about all the grand affairs I had witnessed here when I was a boy. None of our famed heroes and statesmen has ever had such a humble service—and none of them, from Tret Akleen on, deserved more than Corat Damar.
You are a species of long-winded speakers and Pythas Lok 
- Dr. Parmak, the unit leader, worked furiously to stabilize the little girl, and when she was evacuated by the transport unit he broke down. He’s a very good man, this Dr. Parmak; he reminds me of an older version of you, Doctor. 
Introducing Dr. Kelas Parmak, last seen in the then-noodle incident mentioned in The Die is Cast. Quite possibly the chillest person who has ever lived, considering he gets over the whole thing where Garak like tortured him pretty fast. (To be fair Garak DID say he was sorry. Between this case and Odo’s, that apparently goes a surprisingly long way lol) 
- But Garak, you’ll say, there’s no excuse for killing a defenseless woman. And there isn’t… unless you’ve been brought up in our system.
I love that he keeps a little Julian around in his head to talk to at all times. That’s one of the most freakishly intimate things in this whole book of freakish intimacy. Garak has a little Tain on one shoulder and a little Julian on the other shoulder and they have heated debates as to the validity of murder as a solution to any given problem that’s put before him
- I also thought about this Cardassian sense of duty and how it is largely responsible for bringing those of us who are left to these current circumstances. I asked Dr. Parmak how an entire people can come under the sway of this duty and blindly give allegiance to a state that goes mad and murders its own children.
“Poisonous pedagogy, Elim,” he replied. “We believe what we are taught.”
Poison/Disease contagion is a metaphor that will wind through this whole thing,and different people mean different things by it. Parmak means it about The Facism, which is the right one. You’ll be unsurprised to hear that Dukat Sr. has a rather different spin on it, and that he’s wrong! 
- But Tain at home was anything but mysterious. It was not unusual for Uncle Enabran to appear and take me away on some excursion that involved a long walk through a section of the city. During these walks he’d test my awareness, and challenge me to describe a house or a person we’d just passed. If I hadn’t been paying attention and couldn’t remember the details, the walk was over and we’d silently return home under the oppressive weight of his disapproval. He also seemed to know how I was performing at school, and if he wasn’t satisfied with my progress or behavior he’d punish me. I was a hard worker but I had a mischievous streak, and I enjoyed getting others involved in questionable activities and arranging it so they were found out and took the blame. On those rare occasions when I was caught, Tain would somehow find out and punish me—not for my misdeed, but for having been caught. And after he discovered my fear of small, dark spaces, his favorite punishment became keeping me in one until I had convinced him that I had analyzed and fully understood how my mischievous scheme had gone wrong. I found it odd that Mother and Father never had anything to say about these punishments.
. . . 
At first I thought I was in trouble, and my face must have reflected this fear because Father attempted to reassure me with a forced smile. But the uncharacteristic falsity of his behavior and his barely concealed agitation only made the situation worse. I had never seen him like this. Mother’s face was a mask; it revealed nothing. She spoke as if I needed to clean off the day’s work before we ate.
Garak treats him and Bashir ‘drifting apart’ the same way he describes his young self being trained by Tain to go over his ‘mistakes’ — what did I do wrong? You also see it (almost most heartbreakingly to me) from Tolan when he gets sharper out of worry at the end of the scene where the agent comes to take Garak away to the Bamarren Institute: 
I was stunned. I wanted to ask more, I wanted to ask about the dedication ceremony that afternoon, but I didn’t dare. Father had that look when one of the workers didn’t get it right the first time. But what had I done wrong? 
Oh buddy. He’s so fucking confused. The only thing you’ve done wrong yet is having been born with some connection to Enabran Tain, Elim, I’m so sorry
- We were the “missing pieces”—and in order to find our place in the mosaic of civilized society, we had to be broken down and reconstructed from the bottom up.
Keep your eyes open for ‘broken down and reconstructed’ too, it will be on the final test lol
- The good captain gave me one of his bemused stares.
Sisko ILU. He’s not in this book a lot so I’ll take the chance to say it here, because I do. 
- It was explained to us that until we became disciplined in our relations with the “complementary gender” we would make better progress this way. When I asked One Tarnal how we would learn this discipline without interaction between the sexes, he blinked and mumbled something about “distractions.” When I asked what that meant I was told that I had a loose mouth and given five days of hygiene-chamber maintenance as punishment.
“You don’t know enough to ask so many questions.”
Elim 'Genuinely & Guilelessly Too Deeply Pansexual To Be Able To Follow This Logic’ Garak
- Pythas/Eight descriptions because this is a bad mutual crush situation: 
- Unfortunately, the only student left was quiet Eight Lubak, who kept completely to himself. He agreed to accompany me and quickly moved to the door. He was short and slender, and his dark eyes and long lashes made him look younger than the rest of us. He was almost too delicate for a Cardassian. I was not encouraged … but I had no choice.
‘Dark eyes and long lashes’ huh lol
I started to follow him, but he made it clear that I should stay where I was and wait. All during this, Eight was quiet and controlled—and as sure of himself as if he’d done this many times. How did he know where he was going?
. . .
His face was dark, intense with concentration; his brow ridges, which were unusually pronounced, cast shadows over his eyes. My heart began to pound when I realized what Eight was planning. These were certain to be older students, but he expressed no hesitation, no doubt.
. . .
I didn’t know then if I could ever call Eight a friend. Something about him was strange and impenetrable. But it didn’t matter. At least I knew there was one person in my section I could trust. How I had misjudged him. It was obvious that Eight had what Cardassians call a ferocious spirit—and that I could learn a great deal from him.
. . .
Eight also came from a “service” family background, and it was soon clear to everyone that he should have been designated One Lubak, a fact not lost on the actual holder of that designation who, judging from his behavior and speech, came from the highest echelons of our society.
. . .
Five was an athlete who also did well in class. I could see that he was attracted to Eight. As indeed I was. 
Big round of applause for Andrew Robinson managing to sneak the skywritten subtext into the text like this, it’s an exceedingly rare gift to get to have from the media of this time 
. . .
But by then the group had passed. What murk? Me? Have all the others been captured? Surely not Eight. I couldn’t believe that was possible.
. . .
The only member of my group who performed as well in all areas was the taciturn Eight.
. . .
The truth, of course, was that I didn’t know how to forge those kinds of bonds. I wanted to be closer to Eight, and to a lesser degree Five, who besides being one of the great Pit strategists Bamarren ever had was fair in all his dealings.
. . .
Eight remained for a few more minutes. I had the feeling that he wanted to say something more to me. Suddenly he turned and disappeared behind a barrier. The air was filled with whatever went unsaid. He was as shy as anyone I had ever known.
The boys are being useless lesbians at each other omg……… what must this whole mess look like from Pythas’ POV tho. He’s been keeping an eye on his friend/crush so he doesn’t get himself killed by running his mouth off too much to the wrong person and before he knows it the guy is embroiled in an inadvisable bisexual sandwich of betrayal and savage intrigue. I wonder if anything would have been different if Garak and Pythas had managed to actually talk to each other here.   
- Eight was the only person who deserved number One as much as I did—maybe more. My solitary behavior was not always in service to the group. Eight and I exchanged encouraging looks. The support of my one constant friend was all I wanted. I sat there and shut out everything else.
*Garak whenever someone prefers Pythas over him* understandable honestly I’d do the same thing he’s the best have a nice day
End Pythas/Eight teen crush corner
- My mind wandered. I was sure that I heard sounds of the women students gusting with the winds. Suddenly mother materialized … she looked like she was apologizing. I wanted to tell her how much I missed her, but her image dissolved and … Father took her place. I knew he was telling me something very important, but I was growing dizzy and afraid that I’d join Six on the ground … his words were carried away by the winds.
Suffering and agony
Some assorted 'Just assure me that I'm not going mad, Doctor'/Garak's ever-tenuous grip on his mental health moments:
-I don’t know why I wasn’t surprised that he knew. Instead, I was grateful; it told me I wasn’t going mad.
A recurring worry for him I’m sure it means nothing! I feel the same fellowship with him as I do with Harrow in The Locked Tomb series, which I’m sure says even less, don’t worry about it.  
And how do we even begin to rebuild a world that doesn’t exist anymore? A world that exists in my mind with the same arid bitterness as the dust in my mouth. I have never lived with despair, Doctor, the way I live with it now. It’s almost like a phantom companion that shadows me and casts doubt on whatever I do.
“Why save him?” it asks, as we remove a young boy from the rubble of a school. “You’re only keeping him alive for a future of privation and chaos. Wouldn’t it be more satisfying to join the burial unit?”
I want to scream at this phantom, to shut it up. Once I turned around suddenly and raised my hand to strike it. When I realized it wasn’t there, it was too late. Everyone in the unit was looking at me; I’m sure I must have looked like a madman. Dr. Parmak tried to send me home, but I refused—alone it’s even worse.
I’m just imagining Julian arriving on Cardassia like ‘hey yeah I got your letter and we should fuck about it right now but first of all have you told Parmak you’ve been having vivid hallucinations again because that’s very relevant medical information Garak!!!’ 
- But it was in the Pit and my work with Calyx that I suffered the most. My dreaming made me “an air man.”
“You have no grip, no focus. How can you find your strength if you can’t hold your place? Living in your dreams is like living in exile.”
*whisper* pls don't...
- As I tried to put faces on the shadowy children, they began to approach me. They became more distinct as they moved through the rain and haze. Can you believe it, Doctor? They weren’t my schoolmates; they were the Cardassian orphans from the Resettlement Center on Bajor we once visited. The orphans left after the Cardassian occupation forces withdrew. The same young girl was their leader and her lips formed the same question.
Have you come to take us home?
I jumped up. I felt the shed closing in, threatening to swallow me. I ran out into the rain and gloom.
“There is no home anymore! Can’t you see that? Look around you! It’s gone!” I screamed at them and fell to my knees in the sodden waste. They continued to stare back with that same look of fragile trust that I would somehow relieve them of their fear and bring them home. I couldn’t look at them anymore and dropped down into the muck. My despair was no longer just a voice; it was this monstrous world the evil had created, and it surrounded and overwhelmed me.
I don’t know how long I remained curled up in the mud. I felt myself being lifted and half carried, half dragged back into my shed. It was Dr. Parmak. He cleaned and changed me as best he could. He prepared a cup of Tarkalean tea, which made me think of you, Doctor. How ironic, another doctor pulls old Elim out of the muck of his despair, but this time he’s a Cardassian.
The fact that in the episode itself, Garak (in a haze of endorphins and practiced dissociation) is barely like ‘yes yes I’m sure we’re ALL very upset about the orphans. Or whatever. Well what do you want me to do about it Doctor it’s just the way of the world’ and then it just haunts him horrifically for the rest of his life forever and ever the end! Very on brand.  
Garak does seem to genuinely like and care for children in general, which makes my heart all weird and sad
Also Parmak making Tarkalean tea and Garak being like ‘oh. Like Julian :’(‘ about it my HEART. The fact that he’s a serial befriender of very patient kindhearted doctors willing to put up with his nonsense is probably the only reason he’s still alive lol. Thank u Parmak
- A difficult move under pressure against strong physical resistance from an opponent … and something would snap. A painful blow might set it off, a whispered insult, perhaps just a thought or a feeling of hopelessness, and I would suddenly lose control and lash out like a madman. I became suffused with a raging, crimson anger that poured out from some black hole somewhere deep inside me.
I feel like we see the outlines of this still in him by the time of the show — more tucked away and harnessed, but definitely still there. He’s got an instinctive Fight response a mile wide, it’s just that these days he mostly expresses it by becoming incredibly fucking MEAN when he feels threatened rather than outright physical attack. 
- And there was a soothing quality as it spoke of dry legal definitions. It acted as a balm for my bruises and bitterness. I began to feel such longings. It was like hearing music that you love when you least expect it. How I missed Mother, and working with Father in the flower beds. How I longed for home. I dropped my guard and surrendered to the voice. The tears I was determined never to shed accompanied choking waves of shame and relief, sadness and joy. I finally was able to admit to myself how unhappy I was.
*me with my magnifying glass studying the Palandine/Bashir parallels* listening to Bashir talk about Federation nonsense things presumably fills much the same niche in Garak’s psyche as this haha
- “I assure you, I am not in the habit of attacking people I don’t know in public places. We got our feet tangled in the crush, and he went down—just as, moments before, I nearly wiped out the scent display when he ignored the fact that I was standing in his path. I trust he’s not hurt.”
“I expect more from you, Garak,” Odo lectured. “We’re all under a great deal of strain.”
“As am I, Constable. Please, sit down at least. I feel like a schoolboy being disciplined by the docent.”
Odo sighed and awkwardly perched on the barstool next to mine. 
Their dynamic is. Everything to me. Also we learn later that the guy Garak picks a fight with here because he’s upset Julian is hanging out with Miles (lmao oh… buddy) isn’t just anyone or on impulse, but is one of the most hostile-to-Garaks Bajorans on the entire station with a small gang behind him, and Garak knows exactly who he is. Which lends it a certain… something. Almost an edge of very roundabout self-harm.  
“I can’t stay long. I have to finish dealing with this …”
“ … situation,” I finished. “You’re very fortunate, Odo.”
“How so?” he asked.
“These people have come to trust you. They rely upon you. You’ve made a real connection here.”
Odo merely grunted. I was careful not to mention Major Kira, knowing how reserved he was on the subject.
“Do you still want to go home?” I asked.
The question startled Odo, and for a moment the mask of official reserve dropped from his face. This was the first time I had brought up the subject since his admission to me during the “interrogation” in the Romulan warbird and Tain’s ill-fated attempt to destroy the Founders’ homeworld.
“ I … can’t say,” he replied ambiguously.
“Well, I can. There’s certainly nothing here to keep me.”
“I never told you how sorry I was about Ziyal’s death.” Odo could be quite sensitive in such matters.
“You did, actually,” I nodded. “But thank you.”
“Still, you and Dr. Bashir have created a strong bond.”
“Not really,” I answered quickly. “I’m afraid that what I have to offer has run its course. It’s certainly no match for darts.” I heard the bitterness of my tone, and so did Odo. We sat in silence for a moment.
“I understand you’ll be involved in the invasion. You must be pleased.” Odo steered us away from the heaviness that had descended.
. . . 
“When do you want to schedule your consultation?” I asked. Odo—no doubt influenced by his budding relationship with the Major—was about to branch out sartorially. But it occurred to me that Quark was the last person he wanted to know about it.
“We’ll talk,” he replied, nodding to Quark as he briskly marched back to the Promenade.
AHdorable all around. Hilarious that Odo picked up on trouble in human/lizard paradise and, with the vigor of a person who has freshly had love work out for them for the first time, going ‘not on my fucking watch you’ll talk to each other if it’s the last thing I do’. Also the sheer readiness with which he expects Julian to be Garak’s safe place. What on earth does this relationship look like to outside observers. Especially to Odo, practiced observer of humanoid folly, who completely nails Garak’s whole deal in Improbable Cause to the point that Garak lashes out defensively over it.   
- My solitary confinement was agony. The only way I got through it was to rethink all my attitudes about the Pit and the Wilderness and to focus on how I could make my stratagems more effective. Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered?
Going through the whole book it is so stunningly awful that this IS the logic his inner world is shaped around for the vast majority of his life, right up until the ‘present’ part of the storyline where it’s being slowly deconstructed and reassembled. 
- I apologized to the others for disrupting their family; I explained that I had great need of this creature. Not only was Mila (as I eventually called him) the answer to my current problem, he was as important as any of the docents at Bamarren, with the possible exception of Calyx.
;_______________________________________________________________; there’s no part of this that isn’t crushing
Unlike the last time, I had preparation and an ally.
Tain really had to work at deadening Garak’s ability to form loyalty to anything else but him, because left to his own devices and natural instinct Garak will clearly packbond with ANYTHING. He’s so desperate to belong to someone and be loyal to them. 
- As the sun came up, the otherworldly beauty of the Wilderness was gradually revealed by each succeeding gradation of light. I was deeply moved by the presence of so much color in what had initially looked like a dead world to me. Beginning with a cold pale gray, the dawn flowed through a range of blues and into the softest rose and pink and then to a hot red that soon gave way to the merciless bleached bone-white of midday. I was able to see how much territory I had covered the previous night.
Can I just say how unspeakably tender it is that he takes the time to write this out in this. It serves literally no purpose in this narrative but sentiment — to be beautiful. He saw something beautiful once that moved him and he wants to share it with someone. What the fuck. 
- I became increasingly concerned; the sun was getting higher, and the overhanging ledge was now my last source of shade. At one point I took Mila out of his wrapping to check on his condition. At least that’s what I told myself. I was afraid that if I was honest and admitted that the real reason was to solicit help from a regnar, the slide into total insanity would be swift and sure. I was getting desperate.
The funniest and saddest thing I’ve ever read fhdskjfas emotional support regnar that he names after his fucking MUM hours. There are things going on with Garak no psychologist could ever hope to get to the bottom of 
- Three more members of the Furtan group were on the other side of the rock formation, but Mila had found a hidden depression that required some quiet digging to get into, and we avoided detection. We settled in and resealed the opening with sand and loose rocks. After an indeterminate period, the Furtan hunters left. As we waited for nightfall I fell into a deep sleep. 
BB!Elim and regnar Mila like ‘OUR secret hiding spot’. (Seeing how much garak both craves and thrives on getting to have that sense of ‘we’ and fellowship tho. And knowing that’s going to be not only deliberately kept from him but made psychologically impossible for him for a very long time. We should bring Tain back to life so we can kill him again and more painfully actually. Mercymorn acid jail for a thousand years time.)
- While I understood that I would have to watch my step with One Charaban, I also acknowledged that I had never been in a manlier or more attractive presence. It was like encountering an ideal that I’d only dreamed about. As I walked back to my section and accepted the congratulations of my mates, I was baffled not so much by the appearance of this new and commanding person in my life as by my recognition of his strong connection to me. But what connection?
Baby pansexual disaster at his finest
- The other day, the Doctor, Odo, and I were at the Replimat having lunch, an event that Odo, after our conversation, had taken it upon himself to organize.
. . . 
“But what about you, Doctor?” I asked, returning to the business at hand. “It seems there’s a movement afoot to have you replace Captain Sisko.” The doctor winced.
“Is this true?” Odo asked. We both looked to the doctor for confirmation. He sighed.
“There’s a group of … genetically enhanced people who feel that one of their own should be guiding the station during this emergency, and they’ve petitioned the Federation Council, but it’s Jack and his group, and no one takes them…” Exasperated, he broke off. “Garak, how did you hear about this?”
“My clientele talk and I listen.” This was also true: an idiot savant who wears his presumed genetic superiority like a badge of privilege walked into my shop and never stopped talking. Of course I encouraged him, and by the time he left I had heard all about some organized attempt to elevate Dr. Bashir to the leadership position. I could see that the doctor was upset that I’d divulged this information. Clearly this genetic business was not his favorite topic of conversation.
“Is this something we should keep an eye on?” Odo asked, studying us carefully.
“No, not at all,” the Doctor assured him. “It’s just Jack’s people. This was nearly a year ago, and I’m afraid they have too much time on their hands—like some other people I know.” He pointedly looked away from me as Odo continued to study us, trying to decode the undercurrent of this last exchange between us. No wonder he was such a capable security operative. Odo registered every change in tone and temperature and tracked the change down to its cause.
“Tell me something, Garak.” It was clear that he had found an opening for one of those deferred questions he kept on a prioritized list somewhere in his changeling head. He was still a basically shy and tactful person, especially when it came to other people’s business, but lately he’d become more openly inquisitive. I wondered if it was Major Kira’s influence.
Matchmaker/self-appointed and woefully under-equipped marriage counselor Odo……….you are Everything to me you dumb beige bitch. Garak goes a bit aggro in return when he tries to get too close to something tender but honestly odo buddy gooey friend of my heart maybe you shouldn’t barge into this particular glassware shop like a rampaging elephant huh someone’s going to get cut. Also Garak could have refrained from pressing on Julian’s bruises for attention here and we may not have had the rest of the scene, but alas. 
This must be the lunch where we deal with uncomfortable subjects.
“But if Cardassia is liberated from Dominion control …” Odo went on.
“When Cardassia is liberated,” I interrupted.
“Would you return?”
“Would you return to the Great Link?” Odo reacted with sharp annoyance to the question.It wasn’t a fair one, because although we were both exiles, we were in very different circumstances. With the humanoid shape he was still learning to live with, and his deepening relationship with Major Kira, Odo was discovering a new mode of existence, a new link. He had an alternative, however difficult the choice. I didn’t.
“Yes, I know. You can’t say.” I was sorry I had asked again. It was a question he was obviously struggling with.
The feeling Garak seems to have towards Odo in this period where like… you know when you have a friend who has a lot of the same mental health issues as you do and you see them get better and start to flourish and you are genuinely so happy for them but also feel just how deep in the muck you yourself still are with no prospect of getting out. And the way Garak consistently wistfully includes Odo’s romantic relationship to Kira when he observes how he’s coming out of his shell and why he has reasons to stay. 
“Would you return to the same Cardassia?” the doctor asked.
“What do you mean ‘same’?” But I knew perfectly well what he meant.
“To a Cardassia containing the political and social elements that made the current situation possible.”
“My dear Doctor, that’s also the Cardassia that made me possible.” I half-hoped my joke would end this conversation … but I knew better.
Julian baby please read the room and take this up some other time somewhere private maybe (and yet I understand how you wouldn’t think of that until later once Garak’s had a rare public freakout)
Absolutely heartbreaking in every way that garak seems so convinced he must have done something wrong or simply doesn’t have anything more of interest to offer julian and that’s why they’re drifting apart, when a just as likely reading from what’s actually on the page here is that julian feels he keeps getting it wrong and hesitates in case he makes the damage worse. Garak have you considered who this man is before you decided you must have fucked up and resigned yourself to the dark closet of self-isolation tain put in your head. I’m in shambles. 
Also Julian is saying a lot of very true things about Cardassia in this scene that Garak needs to hear and that he’s clearly processing all through the rest of his time on DS9 and beyond, as angry as it makes him, and the good doctor means so well but he IS being incredibly condescending, and he keeps pushing even as Garak is signaling he’d rather not go in depth on this, especially in such an exposed public setting. (This is a conversation they SHOULD be having in private, both for emotional reasons and b/c Garak’s position on this station is a lot more vulnerable than I think Julian realizes, as the hostile comments he immediately starts getting during this convo show.) I mean I guess it’s not this man’s fault he is fundamentally British and autistic what can a bitch do fdjslkfhasj (I say this with all the love in my fellow autistic heart, please do not misunderstand me here). But it’s a very Julian well-meaning but flawed thing to do — he’s focusing on the principle and intellectual side of it, but he’s not taking into account that just maybe having to deconstruct the entirety of your worldview and belief system and then feel responsible for implementing them to create a better world afterwards could be an emotionally fraught process that requires not only reasoned political debate but personal, emotional support from a friend. He isn’t getting that Garak isn’t so much categorically resistant to the basic ideas he’s setting forth — it’s that he wants to be convinced on a practical level that it could even work, because otherwise it’s just a useless pretty picture. 
(Which is a big part of their dynamic on many levels, I’ve always felt. All those times he challenges Julian’s more hopeful and idealistic world view — ultimately he doesn’t do that because he wants to break Julian’s faith down until he agrees with him, he does it because somewhere deep down Garak wants to be convinced. He wants there to be hope somewhere in the world, even if he won’t buy the quick and glorified ‘it’s easy to be a saint in paradise’ Federation version of it. And Julian’s version isn’t that, in the end; it gets tested again and again and he really, genuinely means it, even when it’s hard. Which is one of the most healing things about his presence in Garak’s life overall.) 
Ironically I also think Julian believes so much in Garak and his capabilities that it simply doesn’t occur to him that Garak as a private person might just be like. Too scared and overwhelmed to even contemplate this, at least until Garak is upset enough that he can’t gracefully hide it. (“With your background and experience, Garak, I’m certain that you could serve as a liaison between a new Cardassian government and the Federation.” The Doctor paused and waited for a response. None was forthcoming. “I once suggested that you visit Earth as a member of the Cardassian government-in-exile….” oh so no biggie then Julian that sounds easy and painless and I’m surprised no one has thought to do this yet, this Obsidian Order wilted leftover sandwich of a guy is surely going to be welcomed with open arms wherever he goes among his people fhsdakjfas!)
I feel like this is one of Julian’s less sympathetic traits that he would probably feel such intense self-loathing about once he realized it’s one he shares with his father — this instinct to try to shape someone into a ‘better’ version of themselves. I think Julian’s version of this primarily comes from a much, MUCH kinder place than in his father; he has the will and ability to see the best in the world and in people, and he can’t help but want them to live up to that once he’s seen it. He fundamentally believes people can be better, can be good, when given the help and tools they need, and that’s such a beautiful part of him. BUT along with that there is also a danger of that tipping over into becoming paternalistic and controlling, of overly privileging the ideal you see over the person who is actually there right now, and trying to forcibly change the one into the other ‘for them’.  
Considering Garak’s past experiences of being shaped and controlled by someone else’s idea of what he should be, I’m if anything surprised he doesn’t react worse to this, honestly! I think it speaks to the basic trust and goodness that exists between them that he doesn’t. Julian is clumsy but not malicious, and even here Garak does recognize that on some deep level.   
(Probably because he’s also been touched by Julian at his best, in The Wire — where his support and acceptance is absolute and unconditional, free of the instinct to control anything.)
My voice had risen to an uncharacteristic pitch. It was still ringing in my ears as the Doctor stared at me as if he were studying a baffling microbe. I, too, was baffled. I had no idea where this outburst came from. I know that a distance has widened between us during the past year or so and I know that the holosuite program incident and the revelations of his genetic enhancement are the symptoms of this distance rather than the cause. It’s only natural—we’re very different people. I also know that he had only the best intentions in suggesting that I use the Federation model in order to influence the future of Cardassia. Misguided, yes, and somewhat patronizing and arrogant, but hardly sufficient to elicit this embarrassing and public loss of control.
I mumbled some sad excuse which the good Doctor and Odo were kind enough not to challenge and left the Replimat to return to my shop. As I passed Quark’s I caught his eye and we nodded. Why I included him in my outburst also puzzled me; I rather admire his industry and resourcefulness. I especially admire the way he consistently bends Federation rules so that they work for him.
That’s such a fair evaluation of Bashir’s intentions and personality honestly. Even this upset and feeling that distance between them, Garak still has complete trust in the Doctor’s basic good intentions and nature. (Are you really such very different people at the end of the day, though, Elim. Should the genetic enhancement arc maybe be telling you something here.)
Also such a hilarious element of the Garak-Quark relationship.’Sorry to get you caught up in the crossfire bro I’ve never thought of you as anything but an avaricious opportunist (complimentary)’  
What is important is that I feel that I am necessary, that I function with all my faculties in the service of a greater cause. And while I wait for this invasion, is making Odo more attractive to Major Kira a greater cause?
It is in fact nothing but the greatest cause Garak. Getting Kira happily lovingly laid is priority one at all times. 
- I had no real friends to speak of, and told myself that loneliness was the price I had to pay for success. I considered the games and behavior of my mates to be childish, and that any unnecessary interaction would only distract me from my work. The truth, of course, was that I didn’t know how to forge those kinds of bonds. I wanted to be closer to Eight, and to a lesser degree Five, who besides being one of the great Pit strategists Bamarren ever had was fair in all his dealings.
(I feel like this whole part is going to hit Julian in some kind of way lmao)
Literally just. Put me in a little box on the bottom of the ocean and leave me there forever I can’t go on. Also he’s SUCH a clever-but-socially-inept teenager in this part around the people in his group he doesn’t like fhdkjsa. Ugh they’re all so annoying and fake just leave me alone *eyeroll emoji* I didn’t want to be included in their idiotic conversation bb elim… I would die for your lightly insufferable but entertainingly snarky teenage butt in a way that actually makes me feel more kindly towards my own inner idiot 16 year old.
Also it’s no wonder he’s so out to sea when it comes to interacting with his peers — by all accounts he didn’t play much with other kids as a child and then he’s dropped straight into a social Lord of the Flies piranha tank shot through with Class Shit. 
Inspired by my guide Mila, I would experiment at withdrawing my presence when I had to remain in the same room with people I didn’t like.
Honing his future customer service worker smile 
Here follow some Bamarren and beyond observations I’ve elected to call ‘Sex Stuff’:  
- Oh ok so garak gets some sexual Thing out of being beaten to a pulp after mouthing off through the same mechanism that made spanking known as the ‘English Vice’ across Europe when that was the go-to punishment in British boarding schools. I see. Many things are revealed to me
I looked from the pale, frozen face of Three to the others. They all looked like statues commemorating fear. And I was pleased. I realized at that moment that they were in my control, and that I would no longer have any trouble with them. Especially Three. I felt the power like a drug surging through my system.
And then, of course, the other side of the masochism/sadism scale smoothly coming in, he contains those multitudes. In Garak’s defense idk if you could go through a psychosexual development that wasn’t deeply, deeply weird in this sort of environment 
“What do you want me to do?” I was trembling as if my body were chilled.
Well, I mean. You know fhkdsjha. And he’s rewarded with the first non-aggressive physical contact he’s had here, you say. (For reference he’s talking to Barkan, of the aforementioned ‘manliest presence’.) I’m sure this didn’t awaken anything in him or anything.
“Elim, why do you think we have these ridges?” She stroked the scalloped cords of cartilege and bone that ran along her neck and down her shoulders with a delicacy that stopped my breath. The energy had turned into molten liquid that was now flowing into my groin. The rest of the world was swallowed by complete darkness and I was back inside the tunnel.
“Because … we do,” I replied stupidly.
Fhdjskfhsdjkfhadskjfhas he’s so easy fdsjkfhas. And what a one-two punch of sexual confusion he got there. That one afternoon did irreparable damage to the libidinous development of this poor man and now he has to live like this.
For the second time tonight I was spellbound by another’s passion. In very different ways, Charaban and Palandine held me in their orbit, like powerful suns.
I was learning something new about myself—an emerging desire for power, but a power that had less to do with mastery over others than it did with connecting to them. The way I felt the connection to Charaban … and especially to Palandine.
And, I’m so sorry to have to break it to you like this, your biodad. I’m sorry Elim you’ve got something truly unfortunately Freudian going on here. It’s not your fault.  
“I love the Blind Moon,” Charaban said softly.
“Why is it called that?” I asked, deeply relieved by the mysterious change that had come over us.
“It’s the time for lovers’ assignations,” Palandine answered. “The moon will give them enough light to meet, but not so much for them to be discovered.”
“So if you and Elim were true lovers I wouldn’t have been able to find you,” Charaban teased.
“That’s right, Barkan,” she said with a direct look. I shifted position in the ensuing silence and tried to hide my disappointment with Palandine’s reply, but at the same time, the pleasure I felt in the company of these two people kept growing.
“See?” Palandine suddenly addressed me. “You can do it.”
“What?” I was startled by her delighted burst.
“Smile. Look at that, Barkan. Wouldn’t you tell someone with that smile everything he wanted to know?” she demanded.
“The first time I met him—well, the second…” he corrected himself, “he had a smile that I wanted to wipe off his face.” He was referring to that early morning in front of the Central Gate.
“But it wasn’t that smile,” Palandine insisted.
“No,” he conceded. “Definitely not that one.” And the truth was that I could feel this smile throughout my entire body.
Noooo this is about to go so wrong…it’s all fun and games and bisexual poetry recitation under the blind moon until someone gets stabbed in the back like the Caesar (well caesar notably got stabbed from many many directions but you see what I’m trying to get at here)
- [The Klingon] looked up, and I immediately knew two things about him: he was inebriated beyond reason and he was one of their shock troopers, a callused veteran of hand-to-hand combat. I took a deep breath; as dolts go he was quite impressive. My spirits were suddenly and immeasurably lifted.
“You spoonhead!” he growled at me. I hated that word.
“And you … a great warrior who brings down dabo girls with a single blow,” He looked at me trying to decide if I had insulted or complimented him.
“P’tak!” I shouted, “I mean that you’re the biggest coward in the Klingon Empire,” He released the dabo girl, and as he moved to the narrow stairway I thought that he was also the biggest Klingon in the Empire.
I looked for my advantage. This was not an equal match, and my gigantic friend was in the full flush of a berserker blood lust. I sighed. I’m too old for this, I thought. 
. . .
“Get security, Chief, and tell them to prepare the biggest cell they have … or a smaller coffin for me,” I said as I moved into the alcove and squeezed through the opening where the panel had been. 
 Listen I would apologize for including this here but he’s clearly getting off on this and I couldn’t do anything about it if I wanted to. 
I cannot convey just how much my already intense enjoyment of canon is enriched by the knowledge that Garak is up to these kinds of hijinks constantly in the background when the camera isn’t on him. In his defense he was left unsupervised. O’Brien’s fond mildly exasperated help is just the cherry on top. ‘Well I GUESS Julian would be upset if I let you get beaten to death by a drunk Klingon so fine I’ve got your back’  
(I made for the upper Promenade—and wondered if Calyx might be enjoying this spectacle from wherever he was. ;______; I like how much of an impact Calyx has on his development, considering how briefly he was actually in his life. Plus: Calyx; the Aiglamene of Bamarren? Locked Tomb/DS9 fandom overlap people, Let’s Discuss.) 
“Help me,” he croaked. I was touched by the giant’s childlike surrender. I knew the feeling well.
“I will,” I replied and immediately wondered why I had agreed. I’m getting soft, I thought. 
The greatest joy to me of a lot of this is, like… idk if these are all exactly the things that happened at every turn. In fact I’d say they very likely aren’t, Garak’s entire character taken into consideration. But they are certainly the things he wants someone — someone he trusts as far as he knows how, someone he earnestly wants to be closer to than anyone else, and also wants to see all of him — to know about him, to share in. This could just have easily been a story he told Julian in person over lunch to make him laugh. It’s silly and frivolous and fun, and as much at his own expense as a ludicrous person as to show off. To a true lying liar who lies connoisseur, unreliable narration tells more than it obscures etc. lol  
- (About Barkan) It was the appearance of warmth that made his charm so attractive. A part of me wanted to tell him everything, to challenge the duplicity of his negative evaluation, but the clarity I found in the Lower Prefect’s office was still with me. Looking at him, I was reminded how Palandine had taught me to smile when I asked questions.
Apart from Pythas, who gets his own little twink corner, most of the people Garak is attracted to throughout this are his height or taller and slender but athletic. I’m just saying that when he spotted Julian in the Replimat for the first time he really saw a young man with the face of an angel who is exactly his type fhdjskah maybe he should have seen this coming for himself. Too high on endorphins and hubris to think this would awaken anything in him irrevocably and now he’s stuck with the consequences.  
Why? I asked myself. Why?! For the life of me I could not understand why it was important to her that I respond. Why should she—so beautiful, so alive—be disappointed if I didn’t return her … what? What did she want from me? Friendship? Why me?
I was in turmoil. Her grace and manner, the way she tilted her head and half smiled when she listened, as if everything amused her … it was like a forbidden dream of the unattainable. The attraction was painful because I instinctively knew that while my life would be simpler and more controllable without her, it would also be as drab as my Bamarren uniform.
. . . 
“Are you making fun of me?” It was at that moment, when I asked the question, that I realized just how afraid I was of being the object of her ridicule. She stopped laughing and for the first time she was speechless. 
Losing my entire fucking MIND about how Garak is basically taking Palandine’s place when he approaches Julian at first. Odo and Garak ‘I love you so much I want to become you because it’s the only way I can imagine really being close to you’ handshake meme
Sex stuff end. For now.
I was about to leave when Odo asked about the designs for his “new” sartorial look. I could see that he was masking his concern, so I assured him that the sketches were some of my finest creations, and would be ready within the week. He grunted his thanks and I stepped out onto the Promenade. Love does make fools of us all.
I’m clawing at my face with emotion. Odo… And Garak did finish those sketches even after his moment of existential ennui over them before. 
- Please for the love of god stop putting Six out in the merciless sun T_____T how many times must a poor lil nerd boy pass out before he can rest in the sand etc. 
- “It’s not every evening we find Barkan Lokar strolling with a murk through the Grounds.”
“Lokar? My father buried the Legate, Turat Lokar,” I said without thinking.
“Did your father kill him?” Palandine joked. But I didn’t laugh. The Lokars were a legendary family, and the old man’s funeral was the largest I had ever seen.
Why is this so funny. Garak you are so fucking weird. ‘Oh yeah I know that guy my dad did the flower arrangements for his funeral’ 
- A spirited dabo game involving several Klingons and a serious-looking dabo girl I hadn’t seen before caught my attention. If Quark had been present he’d be giving her one of his congeniality lectures. I truly sympathize with the young woman; if I had to spend all day with these drunken dolts….
Literally so hilarious that’s his first thought. First impulse: ‘surrounded by idiots’ solidarity. Garak what were you doing day drinking at the devil’s sacrament/quarks at midday girl…
- Rom soon appeared with a small container of kanar. He was wearing an outfit I had made for him.
“H-here you are, Garak. I hope you enjoy it.” Ever the gracious host.
“Thank you, Rom. And please, try not to let your collar lie there like a dead targ.” I adjusted the offending fabric, and Rom sweetly tolerated my fussing.
I’m fucking crying what the HELL. Surprise wholesome dynamic that keeps going through the whole narrative. Garak just uncomplicatedly likes and appreciates Rom, with no particular ulterior motive. Plus: fussing is also how we see Mila express affection, like mother like son.   
- I realized as I took a sip of my drink that I was in a dangerous mood. Drinking in the middle of the day. The Doctor would be quite disappointed with me. When I’m unable to immerse myself in work my mind becomes occupied by an invading army of thoughts intent upon conquering all equilibrium and peace. Kanar is a valuable if unreliable weapon I employ against this army. The pills the Doctor gives me are a poor substitute.
Julian, severely unimpressed: uh-huh
‘Would Julian want me to do this to myself? No. However he’s too busy playing soldiers with O’Brien to tell me so, apparently, so that can’t stop me.’ You petty lil bitch garak (affectionate)
The fact that he’s doing the The Little Julian Who Lives In My Head thing already here, where the real Julian is actually around but not engaged with him. I’m so sad. He’s managed to discover shrimp colour spectrums of loneliness and pining.  
- Ever since the Romulan business and Captain Sisko’s near breakdown (outside of the Doctor, whom I told shortly after the incident, no one knows about this, but one recognizes the symptoms), I’ve been obsessed with memories of Bamarren. 
The fact that he tells Julian about that. Presumably partly in a practical way to make sure Sisko doesn’t fall to pieces completely but he doesn’t seem to have any shame about it or expect Bashir to react too badly over it either. The trust…
- I must admit that I was quite taken aback. Evidently there is honor among dolts.
I’m genuinely impressed by how enjoyable it is in this book to be party to Garak’s inner voice. It’s so fun in here, among all the horrors. 
- Nine approached me as I sat alone in our quarters reading the first part of Cylon Pareg’s Eternal Stranger, a saga spanning several generations of a Cardassian family during the early and middle Union.
*whisper of agonized affection* between this and his happy place being studying wormhole theory… he’s such a little nerd. 
Nine swallowed again, an even more bitter taste, and marched off to a life of diminishing returns.
LMAO burn. And, as we shall see, not necessarily inaccurate.  
- As I walked away I heard the custodian ask Tarnal what it was I had done to deserve this punishment.
“Nobody told me. But I know he’s got a mouth on him,” Tarnal replied.
The more things change I guess fdhsakja. Known across the school for being a) a sneaky lil bastard and b) never ever shutting the fuck up when he really really should 
- “And you have to use that wonderful smile of yours more often, Elim.”
“What’s that got to do with listening?” That was the subject, and Palandine had typically made a jump in logic I couldn’t follow. She also forgot that I was a Cardassian male and smiling was not one of our strong features.
“If they feel comfortable with you, people will tell you stories about themselves that will reveal their deepest secrets.”
“But what if the stories aren’t true?” I challenged. “I could smile till my cheeks hurt, and you could tell me any kind of story you wanted—and what would I know about you except what you invented?”
“You would know, if you were truly listening, the kind of story I use to define myself,” she asserted.
“But it’s not the truth!” I maintained.
“Why not? Because it’s not what you believe? Or it doesn’t fit a definition of the truth that someone taught you? Look at people, Elim.” Palandine gestured as if the enclosure were filled with people. “Observe them. The way they walk and talk, the way they hold themselves and eat their meals. That’s what they believe about themselves. Is it the ‘truth’? Are they really that way? I don’t know. Perhaps it is a lie. But what people lie about the most are themselves, and these lies become the stories they believe and want to tell you.”
“As long as I’m smiling,” I mumbled.
. . . 
“Truth, as we’ve learned to define it, is not only overrated,” she went on with a controlled passion, “it’s designed to keep people in the dark.”
This last statement stopped me.
“You mean the way we’ve been taught?” I asked.
“Of course.”
“What about our government?”
“They tell us the stories that we need to know in order to be good citizens,” she replied carefully.
“They don’t tell us the truth, is what you’re saying,” I concluded.
“There you go again. They tell us their truth, Elim, and we are here to learn how to listen.”
. . . 
“Let the ones without power scowl and make fierce faces.You smile. It’s an invitation to connect with another person. And once the invitation is accepted, relax and listen … you’ll come to know as much as you’ll ever need to about that person,” she said with a smile that I greedily accepted.
“You would know, if you were truly listening, the kind of story I use to define myself,” she asserted. 
“But it’s not the truth!” I maintained.
“Why not?” 
SO when I was saying he’s taking Palandine’s place in this dynamic with Julian early on I was not kidding and I was not wrong hahaha. And it’s also what this entire book is, in the end. Trusting Julian to ‘truly listen’ to the story under the stories is maybe the biggest show of trust and vulnerability Garak could ever extend to anyone. Extremely The Wire-core once more.
The idea that tiny Garak was too outwardly glum and serious is. Amazing and brainbreaking. People feeling uncomfortable under his gaze b/c he’ll just like scowl distrustfully at them. Palandine I don’t know if you fixed him or made him worse but you certainly did something fundamental to him and committed him to the bit and for that I cannot thank you enough
- I no longer had Palandine to myself—but surprisingly, I didn’t mind, in fact I was pleased that Charaban was here. His stillness, like everything else about him, had grace and strength. I sneaked another look in his direction and marveled that this was the same person I had first encountered in the storeroom. He returned my look, and in the next few moments a bond grew between us that I had never thought possible. 
You know if Barkan was really smart or had the capacity for extended self-control he would have just kept stringing Garak along as the third in his disastrous marriage. Garak is used to subsisting on the merest scraps of affection and consideration, you’d barely even have to feed him. (Ala Daisuke Jigen with many an evil ex, for the Lupinheads out there lol) A threesome here and there and maybe gently stroking his hair afterwards and you’d have him for life, probably. Alas or perhaps thankfully Barkan is ultimately just an asshole and not that smart. 
- A Bolian client came down the steps outside the door and was about to enter the shop, but for some reason he stopped at the threshold. He looked at us, turned, and went back the way he came.
LMAO that guy was like ‘something really fraught and homosexual is going on here and that is frankly none of my business, as you were gentlemen don’t mind me.’ A real ally and a bro.  
“I’m keeping you from your business.” Bashir stood up. “I won’t take up any more of your time.”
“I’m pleased you stopped by.” I was about to escort him to the door.
“No, you’re not,” he said quietly.
“Excuse me?”
“Garak, I come from a culture that has perfected the ‘stiff upper lip,’” he explained with the same faint smile.
“What does that mean?” It was a genuine question; there was a change in his attitude.
“It means that we never complain, never admit to our feelings, never ask for help. It’s just not done,” Bashir explained. “And those people who lack character’ and insist on airing their needs—especially in public—are subject to ridicule… and worse. Does this sound familiar?”
“Perhaps,” I replied softly.
“But I’m also a doctor, Garak. And I know which group of people suffers the most. I really won’t take up any more of your time.” He extended his hand, which he rarely did, and I took it. “Thank you for the tea.” He turned and went out the door.
I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. Yes, Doctor, it does sound familiar. But as to the question of which group suffers the most…
. . . 
After Charaban’s betrayal I became as withdrawn and solitary as I had been when I first came to the Institute. I tried to spend time with Palandine, but it never quite worked out; between her regular duties and the recruitment and planning for the female Competition, she had little time for anything else. But there was something else, a distance that had crept between us that I didn’t understand. I felt ashamed, that somehow I had failed and it was my fault, but I found it difficult to discuss. This was probably the loneliest I had ever been.
1) Going NUTS over the fact that these are separated by ONE paragraph. Andy Robinson staring directly into the camera making parallels between the main love interests in this book like ‘Am I making myself clear here. Do you get it yet’. Also really interesting to make this relationship pattern a, well, pattern in Garak’s life, and not a unique element of his and Bashir’s thing (which Doylistically was basically a byproduct of cowardly 90s standards for tv writing more than anything else lol)
2) But there was something else, a distance that had crept between us that I didn’t understand. I felt ashamed, that somehow I had failed and it was my fault, but I found it difficult to discuss. This was probably the loneliest I had ever been.
 The Palandine/Bashir parallel train barrels on, scoring a deep trail of heartache into my soul. Also in that case it’s so sad because he really hasn’t done anything wrong or anything to be ashamed of, Barkan and Palandine are the ones who fucked him over :’( 
3) I stood there for a long moment, deeply upset. I felt trapped within myself, knowing what I had to do to get out but unable even to begin. + Tolan’s grief at seeing Garak after Bamorren: “He’s hard, Mila,” Father said. . . . “But to the point where he’s unreachable?” Father asked. “Where nothing penetrates? How can he express even his basic needs if he’s trapped inside a shell?” + Just as I had learned to do when Uncle Enabran locked me in that suffocating closet. Was this the universal torture for failure, I wondered?...........................................................................
4) More proof to my eyes that Julian’s side of this whole thing seems to be more about thinking Garak doesn’t actually want him to be there. He doesn’t think he’s welcome here or that he’ll be able to help more than he hurts with whatever’s going on for him. ‘I really won’t take up any more of your time’ AUGH 
Garak buddy… every time he tries to get closer to you or extend some care, you bristle like a hedgehog even though you’re trying to do it in as polite and decent a way as possible — what is the poor guy supposed to think beyond a certain point lmao. (Though on the hopeful/beautiful side… what is this entire book but Garak actually taking the advice/suggestion Bashir gives in this scene to reexperience his past and put it in context — not in the holosuites, but in his own way by writing it all out in a way that makes sense to his Cardassian brain and then sharing that with Julian directly. Like. The last line of the book is ‘You’re always welcome, Doctor’. Elim ‘I will become emotionally healthy enough to ask Julian to come visit with an open heart if it fucking kills me’ Garak)  
I’m so soft for how careful they both are with each other in this scene, though. Even in this difficult place where there’s stuff they don’t understand about each other and they are having difficulty connecting for… several reasons, they are trying so so hard to be good to each other. Which is why I think they have every chance of working out brilliantly long-term; once you’ve got a mutual respect, willingness to keep working to understand and communicate with each other even when it’s difficult, and that fundamental ‘I don’t want to hurt you’ good faith in a relationship you’re a good chunk of the way there, from what I have observed. 
Julian cares that Garak was upset, much more than he cares about being right, and this time he shows it in a more private setting where Garak can take it in. They’re trying!  
5) The implication in But as to the question of which group suffers the most… that Garak also realizes how much he’s hurting Julian by not being able to let him in…
Most of all the fact that Bashir in this scene is like ‘Listen Garak I get emotional repression. I’m literally British.’ is one of the funniest things that happen in the whole book. To me. (I’m Norwegian, culturally this has. Some overlap with my experience, let’s say lol) 
- Six had long since gone home. He wanted to succeed so badly, but his body couldn’t withstand the constant assault of the training. I’m sure he found an academic situation. 
Oh thank GOD. Genuinely so relieved to hear this. This is how many times a nerd boy must pass out before he rests in the sand and gets to go to normal university instead of murderschool, the question is finally answered.  
- Tain has shown up again and I want to throw rocks at him until he goes away. And I know he won’t. 
- My shed has become somewhat more bearable, but the clutter and confinement of the interior space requires that I leave the door open. To keep myself busy when I’m not working with the med unit, Doctor, I am engaged in a project I must tell you about. It baffles me. Perhaps you can tell me if I’m losing my mind altogether.
. . . 
[Parmak] turned to me with the strangest expression on his face—and looked me directly in the eyes for the first time.
AUGH. (Plus, the fact that Parmak consistently calls him ‘Elim’.)
But what baffles me, Doctor, is that I attach no meaning to what I’m doing here. I’m just doing it because I need to. And to be truthful, I don’t see this as a memorial at all. On the contrary—if I could, I’d singlehandedly rebuild this city myself, piece by piece. I stood here watching Parmak’s blood dry on this pile of rubble, engulfed by a feeling of loss and utter mystification as to what these piles mean.
Just assure me that I’m not going mad, Doctor.
This whole section is the biggest mood and I’ve rarely felt closer to a fictional character haha. His quietly dissociated tired bemusement both with himself and what he’s doing and Parmak’s reaction is… yeah that’s exactly what that feels like. And ‘Just assure me that I’m not going mad, Doctor’ has done irreparable damage to my psyche, I’m going to be thinking about this forever
- Palandine gestured that she would deal with me and sent the mate on her way.
“So what did you use me for?” I asked.
“What do we ever use each other for?” she replied without hesitation.
“Answering a question with a question is an old trick, Palandine.”
“No trick. I needed a friend.”
“And you don’t need a friend now” I hated the tone that was creeping into my voice.
“It’s complicated, Elim.”
I was afraid to ask why.
“What did you use me for?” she asked.
The question truly baffled me. I only wanted her love. Was that using her? I would gladly have given mine in return.
Still gnawing on concrete over Garak partially reenacting Palandine’s way of approaching him with Bashir in the beginning. At that point he also needed a friend (and he needed someone to run to Sisko like ‘THE SPY TALKED TO ME :D’ to deliver intel through so he was also using him lol.) The way Garak picks up traits from the people he loves like he’s doing the soul version of Odo’s shapeshifting-as-closeness thing because it’s the only way he knows. 
- “So it’s Eight,” he said, dismissing me from his world.
“I don’t think you understand, Barkan….” Palandine began to say.
“It’s not necessary that he understand,” I dismissed him from my world.
Barkan… you did not understand what you were doing, getting into an emotionally and sexually charged petty-off with this man. RIP your stupid ass I guess lmao
“I wanted to tell you. But when I realized … I didn’t want to hurt you,” she said with a gentleness that rankled me.
“I’m not hurt. Neither one of you can hurt me. I wish you a successful… partnership.”
Palandine is so interesting!!!! And like here’s one of the things that I think make a big difference in Garak’s relationship with Palandine vs. his relationship with Julian — who tells him exactly the same thing in ‘The Wire’, after all! (I don’t want to hurt you) Because Palandine doesn’t really mean it, does she? She doesn’t mean ‘I don’t want you to be hurting, I want to protect you from being harmed’, she means ‘I didn’t want to be the thing that hurt you; I didn’t want to be faced with your hurt’, while she is doing things that will inevitably hurt him. I think there is genuine affection and care on her side, but they’re in such a fucked up, brutal world and they’re so young. 
‘I’m not hurt. Who’s hurt’ says teen crying quiet tears of blood as his world falls to pieces 
“I love him, Elim. And I’m also ambitious. I want what he wants. You’ll understand this when you find someone to share your….”
Not me wondering how much of this has echoes to Mila’s relationship to Tain and how that’s part of what Garak reacts to — that survival mechanism of ‘I want what he wants’, subsuming and submitting yourself completely. Which of course is what a Cardassian is supposed to do to the state, and that Garak also does with Tain for the vast majority of both of their lives. The worst part is that Palandine really had some reason to hope for more — she and Barkan start out in a more equal position than it’s implied Mila and Tain ever did, that’s always framed as an inter-class thing, and while Palandine’s family situation is not as grand as Barkan’s it doesn’t seem like it crosses the service class/ruling class barrier. But the structure of the state imposed on every level of society right down to the most intimate and personal areas of life is going to crush the life out of that hope real fast. I’m sorry girl. Wanting to have a fighting chance in this world isn’t the worst sin anyone’s committed and tbf you are like a teen by all accounts
- “My name is Elim Garak. I don’t know where I’m being sent, but I hope you’ll remember me as your friend.”
“When I was told today that I was One Lubak, I was honored… and afraid that I’d lose you as a friend. Thank you. My name is Pythas Lok.”
Neither one of us ever took our eyes off Mila, who was still trying to blend into his surroundings.
Crying gently into my cereal
Garak ‘I wasn’t sure I could ever call him a friend’ vs. Pythas ‘Afraid that I’d lose you as a friend’
Something powerful was stirring deep inside me, and I began to shake. Mila snapped his head to the side, the way he does when he senses light or heat change. Convulsive waves pushed up from my center and tears filled my eyes, blinding me. I had absolutely no control over what was happening to me. By the time the convulsions subsided and my eyes cleared, Mila had disappeared into the rock-and-sand home he came from. 
Absolutely sobbing my eyes out into my cereal 
Spoiler warning: Garak having to go somewhere to be alone after something calamitous happens in his life because that’s the only way he can cry is a theme that will reemerge later and do unspeakable emotional damage to me personally haha
As I hiked back to the Institute, I had the thought that maybe somebody was doing the same thing for me and bringing me back home.
No baby you see someone is doing the exact opposite of this to you right now because you have a basic goodness and capacity for real honest love that Tain doesn’t and he’ll never in a million years set you free just because he loves you and it’s the right thing for you 
- And Jadzia is gone. The station is a sadder and grayer place without her. I’m surprised at how keenly I feel her absence. Even though I know that her symbiont has been “joined” with another person … well, it’s not the same, is it? Indeed, knowing that Jadzia’s personality is somehow contained along with several others within this other person, I wonder how I would react if we were ever to meet.
:(
The doctor has reminded me that these are personal choices, and it’s not for us to judge how one chooses to mourn. Quite so. Who can even begin to understand another’s grief? “Do you judge people by the clothes they ask you to make?” the doctor asked once. I bit back my response, but the point was well taken.
:’) little soul-healing brush of Julian kindness time 
- “What does Tir Remara want with you?” Colonel Kira demanded, ignoring my offer of tea. Immediately an entire picture formed in my head of the scenario her abrupt question suggested: Tir Remara—a spy, perhaps even a changeling, preying upon a lonely Cardassian who was working for the Federation and engaged in top-secret work.
“She wants to have my children,” I replied with a serious look.
“You can’t be serious,” she managed.
“I’m not. Now do you want this tea or not?”
Kira should just have strangled you all those times she wanted to you snarky asshole fhdskja
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midnight90raven · 5 months
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So I rewatched Black Friday on Black Friday here are some notes I made:
- The Wiggly song is way too long to be a real advert
- Paul was right, Wiggly really does worm his way into your brain
- This line from Tim: “I wanted to have fun” Is foreshadowing for the scene: Tom and Lex. Tom really just ignored his wants at the beginning
- Notice how Tom said “He was sledding, with his mother” more evidence that Tim doesn’t want anything material, he just wants to spend time with his family
- “I’d give up both of my arms to get you on track”, well, he did get stabbed
- Wiley making references to (possibly?) the black and white and people killing each other for a Wiggly
- Webby knowing that having the backpack with Wiggly in it is gonna cause a lot of problems
- Ethan and Lex calling Hannah “banana” and then Wiggly calling her that later
- Ethan saying “Cross my heart, hope to die”, biggest death flag there is
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but the “My mom’s a bitch” with no context beforehand
- Think about the implications of Ethan saying “We’re missing in action” (It’s what the M.I.A in CaliforM.I.A stands for btw), more major death flags
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but wtf did Gerald do in that Cinnabon? Also this explains why they thought he was the murderer in “Hatchet town” tbh I’d think the same thing
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but Gerald kept that car running the entire musical, most likely
- They really just let Tom cut in line even though Linda had to bribe people to cut in
- “I hope you don’t get a Wiggly. I hope you fucking die.” Arguably the best line in the entire musical and more foreshadowing
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but Man in a Hurry (Jeff Blim’s character) fangirl screaming at Becky X Tom
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but the following characters loose their place in line: Linda after “What do you say”, she recovers though; Becky and Tom, from what I saw, after “Our Doors Are Open”
- I want the people’s opinion: If someone sues another person in Hatchetfield, does Gary do both the Defense and prosecution? Or do I not know how law works? Anyone say he’s also the judge?
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but the fact that the person holding the Wiggly, not counting Frank cause he’s selling them, still sings the song and doesn’t run away to keep it for themselves could be proof that this is a sequel to The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals and this is just what happened when Wiggly asked/forced Pokey to make a musical about him
- “You made my Christmas list” reminds me of the line: “Let me check my Christmas list” from “the summoning” both talk about death (Gary and Man in a Hurry trying to kill each other, Wiggly wanting Steph to kill Peter) and they both involve Wiggly in some way
- Linda never got to her hair appointment
- After watching Honey Queen the fact that Linda would want to be adored more than Gerald already adores her confuses me, he literally died for her and killed for her if I remember correctly
- This is something a first time viewer could point out but how the hell did they get a Wiggly doll in the Oval Office without someone being killed?
- Is it possible to spin someone around by their leg?
Gonna do Act 2 tomorrow, I did this way too late in the day
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catknifetime · 8 months
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Some Wheel of Time thoughts: the way Aes Sedai treat men who can channel is even worse than it looks at first glance. No I’m not kidding.
I will be using severed instead of gentled or stilled in this post, I just think using 1 term is more simple.
So let’s start with some basic 100% true facts: 1. The men who are channeling out in the world are men born with the spark, they cannot help it. 2. Men who can channel will go mad, and 99% of the time end up hurting a lot of people with the power. 3. Even if men who can channel don’t kill other people or themselves with the power, they will inevitably die horribly of necrosis overtaking their bodies. 4. Severing men who can channel stops the madness and necrosis progressing. 5. Severed men become extremely depressed and suicidal, to the point that they almost always eventually starve themselves to death if prevented from committing suicide in a faster way.
The White Tower knows all of these things, as well as what happens to a severed woman.
Second collection of facts for my argument is what (as far as I can tell) The White Tower’s official plan of action for men who can channel is. And it is this this: 1. Find a man who is channeling, probably through an informant’s network. 2. Sisters from the Red Ajah go and capture the man, shielding him and bringing him back to the tower. 3. The man is tried in the court of The White Tower and severed. 4. The man is kept prisoner in the white tower in pretty nice conditions until he finds a way to commit suicide or starves himself to death. (Note: #4 may not be true for all men, I am primarily basing this off of Logain and he is definitely an outlier. But just letting them go is actually pretty much just as bad)
Now up until the source was cleansed, severing men who can channel was actually the best option to deal with the situation. Both for the men and the world. But the way they treat men after gentling is inexcusable given the information they have.
What is this information you may ask? That they know how to help a severed woman with the depression that comes after severing. In The Shadow Rising, after Siuan and Leane are gentled they either think about or discuss (I don’t remember which) that the best way to stave off the depression from severing is to find a new purpose that takes up all of your time and energy. The impression is that this is common knowledge about how to help a severed woman. I think they even mention some severed women being set up with families by the tower to try and keep them alive.
They do not help severed men. Not even a bit of advice like a “oh btw you should try and find a job or task that takes up a lot of your time, it’ll help.” (Assuming they do let most severed men go). And they sure as hell didn’t try to help Logain with the depression when he was being held captive in the tower. They basically just condemned him to a slow death. Like if you aren’t going to help the guy you’re keeping prisoner and who you know is so depressed he’ll eventually starve himself to death just execute him and speed things up.
So it’s not a “oh this is a tragic necessity, so sad these men just invariably die” like some Aes Sedai present it. It’s actually a “oh this is a tragic necessity, but we’re making it WAY worse for these guys because of the Reds”. Did I mention that btw? That this is all because the Ajah in charge of dealing with men who can channel culturally HATES them. Aes Sedai could reduce the harm of severing for men, but they chose not to. Because even within the Aes Sedai there is an incredible amount of fearmongering about, and among the Red hatred for, men who can channel. Even though they all logically know the men can’t help it, that the ones channeling have the spark, they still hold very uninformed-seeming and uncomplicated opinions on them.
I don’t really have a conclusion. I guess I’ll just say that this isn’t a plot hole, just another way the Red Ajah sucks. And that the more you dig into how the white tower works the more you see how it really doesn’t.
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chaos0pikachu · 1 year
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tldr: censorship fucking sucks and word of honor and xena are mlm/wlw solidarity 
okay this was a random thought that came to me during a combo of rewatching of Word of Honor and reading a post that declared Word of Honor “didn’t count” on their BL list of whatever the fuck and here’s the thought, here’s the vibe, Word Of Honor has a lot in common with Xena: Warrior Princess
Hear me out
Everyone kinda knows that Xena - and by extension Lucy Lawless - as a bisexual/queer woman icon, and that Xena/Gabrielle is probably still one of the most prominent wlw ships in western canon. That’s a huge part of the shows iconography in pop culture. But like, if you rewatch the show, things between Xena and Gabrielle are kept pretty ambiguous but in that ambiguously totally gay way (like WenZhou!). 
The network was actively against Xena and Gabrielle being more than, what fans would probably call nowadays, bait. An executive told producer Rob Tapert that by making Xena and Gabrielle explicit there would be a surge of interested followed by a sharp decline. 
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It should be noted that Xena was already a controversial show for it’s era - not just for the gay subtext but under fire from religious groups, anti-feminist groups, and others. 
The showrunners and producers also didn’t intend for Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship to, eh, blossom the way it did. Fans ran with it. Ironically, the intention of the show was to push Xena’s men of color love interests which also made the network gun shy (remember folks racism exists alongside homophobia!). 
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Xena and Gabrielle operated in a highly censored space (that still exists in American media btw!! Take it from someone who knows first hand) that was beholden to network hand-wringing, capitalism, and societal homophobia at large.  So their relationship could only live within an ambiguous space. Ironically enough, just like WenZhou, Xena and Gabrielle are also referred to as “soulmates” in the text of the show. But ya know, sometimes soulmates are platonic, sometimes romantic. Which are WenZhou and Xena/Gabrielle? Well that’s up for the viewer to decide b/c the production teams hands are tied. 
Even so, even with the censorship, we all still view Xena as legitimate queer representation within the pop culture space. Why? Why Xena and not Word of Honor?
For me, they both count, especially WoH because it’s source material IS queer. But the filter of censorship snipped and cut the text away so everything would be forced to live within that ambiguous “up to the audience aka gotta make the advertisers comfortable” space. 
I don’t think it’s fair to throw WoH out because the production couldn’t, like they were not allowed, to showcase text on screen. Similar to Xena queer fans knew that her and Gabrielle were in love, soulmates (romantic) by the end (where Xena dies, like literal for reals death she’s ashes carried on by Gabby at the end btw spoiler alert for a 20 year old show at least WK got silver hair and immortality out of his death experience). 
Queer fans appreciated and cultivated what Xena gave us because, no offense but what the fuck else was there? Not a lot, and even less in the fantasy space. Hell, there’s still not a lot of queer representation in the fantasy space we’re only just now going “hey maybe Tolkien’s ultra white British view of things is not the only way to do things?" And now House of Dragon has Black actors in terrible wigs (they’re so fucking bad rip) in 2022. Woooo~ most queer chars in western fantasy media are mainly found in kids cartoons - which, fucking aces there but also - probably why there’s so many adults in those spaces in fandom (not my bag personally) and why I think the popularity of danmei, c-dramas, and k-dramas is on the rise. People are hungry for epic fantasy content, epic romance content, and queer content. 
but like, I think about queer folks who live in China, who watched WoH (ya know, the intended audience, not Americans) who are probably feeling the same thing people felt when they watched Xena. Yeah, Mr. Advertiser Xena and Gabrielle are soulmates (platonic) wink wink, Yeah Mr. Network ZZS and WKX are soulmates (platonic) wink wink
and I think that’s still valuable. idk I just don’t think it’s right for foreigners to be like “no you’re queer media doesn’t count actually because I deem it so” when the reason for the relationship being subtextual is literal censorship. And yet the text is hella gay anyway!! like at the end of the day we’re all battling the crushing weight of homophobia but not everyone’s fight is exactly the same especially country-to-country and I think that should still be respected. given how damn gay WoH is anyway I imagine the producers fought really fucking hard to give audiences what they did. Just like the producers of Xena fought against the network to do what they could. 
anyway, thoughts and shit
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my-life-literally · 1 year
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Allyshit
Trigger Warning
One time, he flipped me over his shoulder spontaneously. I told him I didn’t like that. He was about to defend himself. But then she paused and said, “ok, sorry.” 
And it just occurred to me that the reason he listened to me, is because other men in a martial art’s setting have reinforced the idea of when someone doesn’t want to “fight” then don’t fight.” Not because me, as a person gave direction on how I would like to interact.
And when you’re naked with a man, then all bets are off. Because you willingly got naked. And he will look to other men in his rolodex-head who have enforced ideas like, “well you guys started to do it, sooo....” and “well she got there on her own, sooooo....” They don’t look to the person. 
In both cases you’re not a person.
I feel like men go to martial arts to feel safe around other men. And women go to martial arts because men listen to them. But really men are trying to show other men that they can listen to other men.
“Oh you’re being consensual? Oh yeah, same here buddy.”
“You know, Jo Blow? Yeah, he’s a good guy.” 
Trust me. This is why I find some allyship kind of fake. Because you’re just trying to prove to your fellow caste members that you are “good.” And can follow the trend. You don’t actually care about the other group. 
“Oh, we’re treating people well? Oh yeah same.” It’s another way of belonging(s) among the dominant group. 
For example, if sexism only impacted non-white women then it wouldn’t get as much traction. 
This is the beauty and horror of intersectionality. 
If other men, that a man wants to be like, are endorsing something, that man will act like they endorse that thing too. The target audience for that man’s endorsement is other men for belonging and that man will advertise their endorsement to women for cooperation. But if other men you needed something from didn’t endorse it, or if those men changed their stance, that man wouldn’t stand up to them, because belonging to men is more important than cooperating with a woman (a group men don’t see themselves belonging to, and a group that you don’t want to belong to because of the way many men view them). (Belonging btw is different from identify with). That man’s priority is to gain membership with men by taking their direction, not the direction of women. Levels of cooperation with women are byproducts of whatever it takes to get approval from men you like. 
The patriarchy: A man’s first love, and third parent. Even when they seem to be listening to you. They are really asking themselves, “what does he think?” and then they think of their favourite man.
Obviously not all men. Jesus.
Notes:
Belonging meaning: when they sink I sink. When they swim, I swim. Their interests are my interests. Their hearts effect my heart. When they look upon me poorly, it matters. It materially and metaphorically impacts my substantive and spiritual outcomes. We have green umbrellas. If their green umbrella is destroyed in a pit of hell, I have to help them get it. I know them now as someone I share my umbrella with. 
Identify with meaning: we share similar and/or defining characteristics. We are the same or same enough. I have a green umbrella and so do they. If their green umbrella is destroyed in a pit of hell. I still have mine. I know them now as someone who used to have a green umbrella.
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noctumbra · 3 years
Text
𝐩𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞
summary ─ you were hypnotized. his handsome face was contorted with such emotions, he was so lost in the music, lost in the instrument, and it was mesmerizing to watch.
pairing ─ rockstar!bucky barnes x virgin!reader
warnings ─ smut, +18, language, dirty talk, pet names, fluff, so much fluff, bucky is an adorable dumbass, softdom!bucky, kissing, first date, natasha romanoff is a very good bro, drinking, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), virginity loss, light fingering
a/n ─ this happened because of seb. hope you like it. please leave a comment if you do, i really worked hard on this one! thank you <333 (this is worst banner i’ve ever made btw pls ignore it) [enjoy this 9.2k monster. this is officially the longest one shot i have ever written]
title is from def leppard - pour some sugar on me.
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The lead guitarist had been eyeing you since the concert started. You were lucky enough to buy yourself a front row ticket, but you didn’t know you were that lucky to get the attention of the lead guitarist, James.
Commandos were your favorite metal band. Their music made everything better for you after you discovered them, and following the band for three years, you finally got to see them live. You were very excited while you made your way over the stadium where the concert was going to happen. Your friend, Natasha, accompanied you to the concert because she liked them, too, and even she could tell that James’ eyes were on you.
“Is he looking at you?” She hissed into your ear. You shivered with the excitement. You were bobbing your head to the beat, feeling every drag of James’ skilled fingers over the guitar strings deep in your bones. “Y/N, what the fuck, is he?”
“I don’t know,” you hissed at Natasha back. You didn’t want to get excited over something that was very unlikely to happen and just wanted to focus on the moment. “Let’s enjoy the concert, please?” Natasha frowned a little, but she nodded, both of you turned your heads towards the stage again.
You watched James getting lost in the song. His fingers were flying over the guitar; stroking the strings, hitting the notes and feeling every note he hit in his soul. It was so obvious that he loved doing this. It was written all over his face. You were hypnotized. His handsome face was contorted with such emotions, he was so lost in the music, lost in the instrument, and it was mesmerizing to watch.
Honestly, you didn’t understand how fast three hours passed until they announced that this was their last song and that they would be missing touring. You felt tears filling your eyes slowly. You loved them, valued their art and found yourself in their songs so much, it was hard to say goodbye to them now that you’ve seen them live.
“We’ll be back before you know it!” James said, sending the crowd a wink and making his bandmates and the audience chuckle. They waved and walked towards the exit, and with that the stage lights went off.
“This was a ride!” Natasha exclaimed. You nodded eagerly.
“It was better than I expected!” You were still shouting because your ears were howling. “I never wanted it to end!” Natasha pointed herself, meaning that she didn’t either. You held her hand, never letting go, because you didn’t want to lose her in the crowd. Both of you slowly made your way to the exit. Just as you stepped into the small corridor to get closer to the exit, you were stopped by a bodyguard.
“Miss,” the guy said, raising his hands in the air. “You were invited to the backstage with your friend, Miss.” You turned to your right to look at Natasha owlishly who was looking at you right back with the same expression.
“Us?” You asked. “Are you sure?” The guy nodded. You looked at Natasha again, hoping that she’d answer for you.
“Alright,” she said. “We’ll come.” The guy smiled, stepping aside, he showed you the way to the backstage. You thanked him. Tightening your hand on Natasha’s, you walked towards the entrance.
“What the fuck,” you hissed. Natasha just smirked and shrugged.
“He was looking at you,” she said instead. “He just proved it.” You gave her a disbelieving look, pinching her arm at the same time. Natasha chuckled. “James the guitarist has a crush on you,” she murmured. “It sounds good, doesn’t it?”
You rolled your eyes. Yes, it did sound good, but accepting their offer to get into the backstage? When it was passed midnight? God, you hoped you wouldn’t be fucked up tomorrow.
You slowly made your way inside, the bodyguard right behind you both to show you the way. All the guards you passed had smiled at you warmly. They were kind, hell, maybe even friendly, but you weren’t here to find out that. You were invited. Fuck.
“Walk straight, the main room will be on your right after you passed the number seven,” the bodyguard said, pointing at the number. Natasha and you thanked him. The guy just smiled at you both and bid you good night. After he disappeared, you took a deep breath and walked to the number seven that was winking at you at the end of the hall.
“Are you excited?” Natasha asked, sounding perfectly calm.
“Of course, Nat!” You hissed. “You said he was looking at me, and now, we’re invited to the backstage, and you’re asking me if I’m excited? Fuck yes, I am!” She grinned. Looping her arm to yours, she pushed you to walk a little faster.
“Maybe you’ll have sex with him tonight,” she said cheerfully. You whimpered. You wouldn’t dare. Would you? Who were you kidding, you would. “Maybe he asked you to come to him because it’d be a chaos for him to come up to you.” You huffed out a breath. She was right. You couldn’t even imagine the crowd that would be gathering around you if he were to come up to you.
“Yeah,” you murmured. Natasha pulled you towards the door on your right, and you realized you were about to pass the number seven. You stopped. “Nat,” you whispered. She squeezed your arm.
“It’s fine,” she said gently. “We’ll walk out if you don’t want to do anything with them. We could just say hi and bail.” You looked at her green eyes for a couple seconds, biting your lip. “It’ll be alright. Maybe, we’ll have some real fun. Come on.” You nodded. You weren’t going to back out. You weren’t going to miss this chance.
“Okay,” you said and continued to walk.
It took you half a minute to reach the door.
Tentatively, you stepped inside the huge room. It had three, different color, big couches, and one wall was covered with mirrors and make-up tables. The lights were yellow and dimmed; they weren’t hurting your eyes. There were a couple plants at the corners of the room. There was some chatter going on, chuckles and laughter were echoing from one wall to the other.
“Um,” you started. “Hello?” As soon as the word left your mouth, the chatter died. You tried not to cringe and get awkward with the silence. “W-we were invited?” You saw Steve’s, the vocalist, eyes widening and brows rising.
“Oh!” He said. “Bucky!” He called out, inclining his head backwards. “Your visitors are here!” You frowned. You didn’t know any ‘Bucky’, but when you couldn’t see James around, you assumed it was him. “Why don’t you girls sit down? He’s probably battling with his make-up.” He grinned.
“Sure,” Natasha agreed easily and pulled you to the couch with her. “Is he the only one who wears make-up?” She asked. Sometimes you were jealous of her making-small-talk ability, and right now was one of those moments. Steve chuckled.
“Sammy here also likes to indulge himself with some mascara,” he said. “Hell, I even saw him rockin’ white eyeliner once. It was dope.” You smiled. White eyeliner would look great on Sam, the bassist, you thought. “Thor likes mascara like Sam. Clint has his own make up with all the bandages he puts on his face,” Steve snickered when Clint protested. Natasha and you chuckled.
You looked around the room, at the people, and saw how tired but happy they were. Thor, co-guitarist, was sitting on a large armchair with his phone in his hands. Clint, the drummer, was sprawled on an empty couch with his drumsticks in his hands, spinning them aimlessly. Steve was humming, Sam was tapping his foot to some imaginary beat, and you could hear someone, probably Bucky, swearing in one of the dressing rooms.
“I swear to fucking God if Sharon fucks with my bag ever again─” Bucky stormed out of the room with anger etched on his face but cut himself off when he saw you and Natasha sitting in front of Steve. “Oh. Hello, girls.” He smiled warmly. You wiggled your fingers and saw Natasha smiling at him. “I hope they weren’t being assholes as usual,” he added, narrowing his eyes at his bandmates. Steve and Sam flipped him off simultaneously while Thor and Clint didn’t acknowledge him.
“They were nice,” you murmured, feeling your cheeks burning along with your body. Bucky smiled at you widely, making your stomach flip. He was so handsome, looked so pretty smiling like that, you sort of couldn’t believe you were sitting in front of him right now.  
“As much as this is nice,” Natasha started. Her green eyes were narrowed, and she looked a little terrifying. “Did you invite us here just to have a small talk or…?” You saw Bucky blush, Steve smirking, Sam elbowing Steve, and Thor wiggling eyebrows at Bucky. You frowned. Something was going on for sure, but you didn’t feel alarmed yet.
“Um,” Bucky murmured. “Well, I was going to come up to you but didn’t wanna make a scene. I was just wondering if you’d like to accompany us to the bar? We’re gonna celebrate our last day, and I thought maybe you would like to… hang out… with us?” Bucky looked shy and a little embarrassed, a scrunch was sitting on his nose adorably. Natasha raised a questioning eyebrow.
“Are you asking me or her?” She asked, making you choke on nothing.
“Natasha!”
“What? I know you wanna bone him, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to say no to that.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides they are gonna celebrate, Y/N,” she added, wiggling his brows, sending you a wink. You groaned. Covering your face with your hands, you whined.
“I’m gonna disown you from friendship when we go home, just so you know,” you mumbled, making everyone in the room laugh.
Bucky cleaned his throat with a light cough. “I was asking her,” he pointed at you, “but Sam here really liked you.” He placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder, alarming the guy and making his eyes widen. “He told me so, and I thought he could ask you to hang out with us himself, y’know. I’m that kind of a wingman.” He winked at Sam.
“The fuck,” Sam grunted. You snickered with Steve. Natasha smirked, it was a dangerous, seductive smirk. Uh-oh, you thought gleefully. Natasha was going to seduce the hell out of Sam, and he wasn’t going to know what hit him.
“Brace yourself,” you said to Sam, causing him to frown and give you a questioning look. Before you could answer him, though, Natasha slid off from her spot on the couch next to you and perched herself on top of Sam. You heard him making a mix of choking and gasping noise, eyes comically wide, he looked at Natasha. Steve was trying to keep himself from laughing while Clint was recording the whole thing with his phone. Sam wasn’t going to live this moment down, you knew that for sure.
“She’s gonna ruin him for other women, isn’t she?” You heard someone ask you, and when you turned your head to your left, the spot Natasha was occupying, you saw Bucky. He was still smiling, looking friendly and non-threatening. He had his usual combo on: A black t-shirt and tight, black jeans. His sleeves were on display, you could see his tattoo neck, too, and the piercing on his eyebrow was shining with the lights around him. He still had eyeliner around his eyes albeit faint, but he didn’t seem like it bothered him.
“Yeah,” you said, nodding. “She has that effect on people generally.” Bucky snickered. He slowly sat down next to you but put some distance because he wasn’t an asshole like his friends loved to call him. “You, um, still have some…” You stammered, pointing at his eyes. Bucky snorted, rolling his eyes.
“I tried to wipe them, but they don’t come off for some reason. They might be waterproof? I need to scrub them, I guess,” he said. You nodded again. You hated these awkward moments because you just didn’t know what to do.
“You could try coconut oil, though,” you blurted. Bucky frowned lightly. “It, uh, it helps t-to remove the, um, waterproof eyeliner.”
“Oh,” he murmured. “I think I saw a small jar in one of the make-up bags. Will you help me?” You froze for a second. Of course, you would help him, but that would mean you were going to be close to him, right? You didn’t know if you could handle it─
“Yes, she will. She helped me with the same situation many times,” Natasha chimed in. “She’s gentle.” You side-eyed Natasha. You were so going to hit her with a pillow when you went back home. She saw you looking and blew you a kiss.
“Y-yeah, I did. I- I will,” you said. Taking a deep breath, you decided to just roll with it because you weren’t getting out of here anytime soon, apparently. “Come on.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the room he stormed out earlier. You ignored all the whoos and cheers although they made your cheeks and body burn. “Show me the jar?”
Bucky nodded mutely. Without letting your hand go, he moved to one of the desks that were against the wall with big mirrors and lights all around just like the other room, he pulled out a bag. “Should be in this,” he said.
“Okay,” you agreed. “Sit down.” You let his hand go, missing its roughness and warmth immediately, you opened the bag to dig the jar out. You grabbed a small piece of cotton, dripped some oil onto your hand and turned to Bucky. He was on your level, now, sitting down. “Close your eyes,” you whispered. He did. Inhaling slowly, you stepped closer to him and slowly applied the oil on his eyelids.
His skin was soft, you realized. He had lots of small moles on his face. Most of them were hidden with his long hair and light scruff, but they looked beautiful on him. His lips had a pretty bow shape, their natural color pink-ish red. You suddenly wanted to lean down and kiss him to see if they were as soft as they looked. Blinking, you pulled your hand away and brought the cotton to wipe it off. The oil helped, of course, and soon, the cotton was all black with the make-up.
“There you go,” you whispered, signaling that you were done. Bucky slowly opened his eyes. They were dark and mesmerizing; his pupils were large and almost swallowed the pretty color of his eyes, and you felt stuck. You saw him licking his lips with the corner of your eyes. His hands came up to your waist, one of them moving to your face to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb stroked your cheek gently, so gently that you sighed and nuzzled against it without thinking. You heard him letting out a soft sound, and then his lips were onto yours.
Moaning in shock, you stood there, trying to process what was happening.
You were being kissed by James Barnes. The lead guitarist of Commandos. Your favorite band. You were being kissed by him. You pushed him away. Your hands still on his chest, you looked at him, the disbelief visible on your face.
Bucky cursed to himself silently. He should have known better than just kissing you like this, he should have taken you out first and let you that he was thinking of asking you out for real because he had been watching you throughout the whole concert, and you were so fucking pretty─
“What─ Why did you do that?” You asked him, interrupting his inner panicking. Bucky swallowed and looked at you, the color of his eyes had returned slightly.
“I─” He started, but realized he didn’t know what he could say. “Wanted to?” He cringed. God, he was hopeless. “I’m sorry, I should have asked. I’m─ Look, I wasn’t trying to force myself on you, I swear. I’m really sorry.” He tried to stand up, but you stopped him with putting your hands on his shoulders.
“Why did you do that?” You asked again. Yeah, he might have wanted to kiss you, but you had to know exactly why. Bucky held his breath.
“Because I wanted to kiss you,” he said with a soft voice. “Because you looked so pretty singing along to the songs I wrote with your friend, looked so carefree and gorgeous, I wanted to know you, wanted to kiss you so bad. Because you felt right when you were close to me. Because I wanted to keep you even closer, so that no one would try to steal you away fro─ Mmfm!”
You cut him off with pressing your lips against his. Of course, you were attracted to him. He was this devilishly handsome, funny and charming lead guitarist of your favorite band. How could you not? Him admitting that he wanted to know you was dizzying, to kiss you so bad was definitely passing out material.
Bucky sighed into the kiss as he brought one of his hands to rest on the small of your back and the other on your face. Tilting his head to his side slightly, Bucky deepened the kiss. With the hand on your lower back, he pulled you to him, making you step into his personal space even more. You hummed. Your hands were on his cheeks, fingertips playing with his hair while your thumbs stroked his cheekbones.
He kissed so nicely.
His lips were as soft as they looked. They felt like silk onto yours as he kissed your breath away. His body heat was setting your own body fire. His hands on you were like a dream come true. The way he held you close to him felt so good, you wanted to cry at the feeling. You were a little touch starved, but he was feeding you well with his itty bitty touches.
“Mmm,” he hummed as he pulled back for oxygen. He opened his eyes, watching you nuzzle in his palm, kissing his wrist, Bucky felt immensely happy. “Darling love,” he whispered. “You feel so right in my arms.” You let out a broken sound as you buried your face in his palm, partially hiding in it. He chuckled softly. “You do.” You wiggled even closer to him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.
Just as both of you were getting lost in the kiss, the knock on the door made you jump. “We’re leaving for the bar!” It was Clint. “Are you guys coming or not?” Bucky looked at you.
“Let me take you out?” He asked, hope shining bright in his beautiful eyes. “Let me treat you? Please, honey?” You nodded mutely. You were too stunned to answer him verbally. He smiled. “Alright,” he said and stood up. He, then, took a step back and extended his hand to you. “I’m James, but people close to me call me Bucky.”
You chuckled at his cheesiness. Holding his hand, you shook it. “I’m Y/N, but Natasha calls me dumbass sometimes,” you said, making him grin. Bucky held your hand in his as he brought it up to his lips, kissing your wrist.
“Can I take you out on a date? Buy you a drink?” He asked, then. You bit your lip as you grinned.
“Yeah,” you answered him. He beamed.
“Great!” He pulled you against him. “I know just the place.”
──
You’ve been at the bar with the band and Natasha for two hours now. You were having so much fun that you couldn’t stop giggling or cracking jokes sometimes. You felt incredibly lucky to get to know the band this way; they were a bunch of charming and funny guys who occasionally called each other asshole.
Thor was a weird one; he kept talking like he was someone from a Shakespeare play but he was a very funny dude. Sam was a sarcastic but a very charming guy; him and Natasha had kept the flirting going since she sat on his lap at the backstage. Steve was actually a pretty smart guy, but he loved fucking with others and playing dumb. He was almost as flirtious as Sam, but he kept the flirting to Thor only which you later learned that Thor and Steve had been dating for two years. Clint was… he was a real dumbass. He was a beast with his drums, but in general he was a walking disaster and the bandages on his face and arms sort of gave that away.
They were a good bunch.
Then, there was James. Or Bucky as he reminded you to call him that once or twice. He was funny just like the others. He was charming and actually a sweetheart. You learned that he was also the Mama Bear of the band while Sam had taken the Papa Bear role. They were the ones who kept the others doing shit. He was considerate, lovable and smart guy. He loved his music, loved playing his guitar whenever he could and loved exploring new things.
You might have been a little in love with him already.
“Aight!” Steve interrupted the chattering. He was a little tipsy, not drunk, and leaning onto Thor more than he probably should. “Round… four? Five? It’s on me. Who wants what?” Everyone placed their order with Steve and Thor, but you.
“Just water if they have such a healthy drink in here,” you said, chuckling. “I had enough.” You weren’t big on drinking your consciousness away, and considering this was sort of your first date with Bucky, you wanted to stay sober.
Steve and Thor nodded, not pushing you to drink when you didn’t want to, and made a bee line to the bar. Bucky was holding you against his side, his arm was either over your shoulders or around your waist, and you were leaning into him. He placed a soft kiss onto your temple, making your body heat up with the simple touch of his lips. With a sigh, you buried your head into his shoulder.
It was sort of surprising that you felt so safe and at ease with Bucky although it’s been only three hours since you met officially. Sure, you’ve known him partially from the interviews, but you spent three hours in his presence, and the closeness between you two felt like you’ve been like this, close and touching each other, for years. It was a weird but not unwelcomed feeling. In fact, you loved it a little too much.
“Are you okay?” Bucky whispered. His breath smelled a bit like beer, but you didn’t mind. Yours probably smelled the same. You nodded. “I can take you back home if you want or to a hotel? I… just realized I don’t know where you live.” You chuckled.
“I live around, don’t worry,” you assured him. “Like an hour or so away with car? I’m local.” You snuggled deeper into his embrace. “I’m fine, though, it’s been very fun so far.” Bucky hummed.
“Yeah, they are good guys,” Bucky agreed. “But say the word and I’ll take you home, alright?” He said, looking into your eyes.
“Okay,” you agreed, kissing his cheek. You have never felt like this with a guy before. Sure, you were a virgin, but you had boyfriends, you had dated. None of them made you feel this at ease around them. None of them but Bucky. You found that you loved this feeling. With a smile, you hummed happily.
After Steve and Thor returned with a new round of drinks, you’ve spent another hour and half laughing and talking with them. It was around 3 AM when all of you decided to call it a night.
“It’s technically morning, though,” Clint said, swaying on his feet a little. Everyone groaned. “Fine, geez. I ain’t makin’ any joke anymo’,” he grunted and flipped the bird. You snorted lightly. Clint got offended real easy when he was drunk, apparently.
“So, girls,” Sam started. “We can take you home if you want? Or put you in the same hotel we’re staying for tonight?” Natasha shrugged.
“It’d take us at least an hour to get home, I’ll take the hotel option,” she said, and you hummed approvingly. “We don’t need new rooms. I think it’s obvious where we’ll be staying,” she added with a smirk. You felt your cheeks burn.
“I’m so divorcing you when we go home,” you muttered, and Natasha snickered. You felt Bucky’s assuring squeeze on your arm.
“We can get you a new room if you don’t feel comfortable enough with sharing, though,” he said, ignoring Natasha. You frowned as you thought about it.
It wouldn’t make you uncomfortable, but you didn’t know what you’d do. Would you just cuddle and go to sleep or… You sighed. You wanted to take that step. You were in your mid-twenties and you wanted to get rid of your virginity already. It stuck with you for a long time. You didn’t want to push him for it, though. Frown deepening, you realized you wouldn’t mind whatever you chose to do when you shared a room. Even though you wanted to get rid of things, you really would like to cuddle with Bucky and go to sleep.
“It’s fine,” you murmured. “I won’t mind sharing a room if that’s okay with you.” Bucky shook his head, a smile playing on his lips.
“Of course,” he said. “Let’s go then.”
It took you fifteen minutes or so arriving the hotel and all of you quickly scattered your own rooms. You followed Bucky. He was holding your hand into his gently, you in front of him, his arms were around your waist and hands holding yours as you rode the elevator. When you were on the floor nine, you got off and walked down the hall.
Stepping inside the room 107, you felt nervous. It wasn’t Bucky who was making you nervous, but yourself, you knew that. You could come clean and tell Bucky; he had been so patient and loving with you all day and you knew he wouldn’t mind you telling him about your conflict.
“I can take the couch,” Bucky started. “I don’t mind. It’s actually pretty comfy,” he grinned. “Took a nap there before we hit the stage.” He wiggled his brows adorably. “I can lend you some clothes if you wanna shower, I’m definitely taking one. I have no idea how you put up with my stink for four hours.” You chuckled.
“You don’t stink,” you said. “You smell nice, actually.” Bucky tilted his head to his side and sent you a cocky smirk. Fuck, you thought.
“Nice, hm?” He laughed, then. “I half-showered with my perfume is probably why,” he added, rolling his eyes. “Anyways, you gonna shower?” You bit your lip. You were hesitating just a little, but you knew you had to take some steps yourself in these kinds of things.
“W-what if we take o-one to-ogether?” You stammered clumsily. “We, uh, both need one, anyways, right?” Bucky froze. His eyes snapped at yours, watching you carefully as he tried to see if you really wanted this.
“You really want that?” He asked. You nodded. There was nothing else you wanted more at the moment, you thought. “Honey,” Bucky murmured. “Do you know what you want? Do you wanna tell me?” Ye walked closer to him and placed your hands on his chest when you were close enough.
“I want to take a shower with you,” you said, surprisingly with a steady voice. “I… We don’t have to, but if you want, I, um, also want to have sex with you, too.” Bucky exhaled shakily at your words. They were affecting him, you could see it in his eyes. So, you thought, might as well drop the bomb. “I, um,” you continued. Your fingers were playing his exposed dog tags. “I really, really would like you to be, um, the first one to… you know…” You narrowed your eyes, looking at him and hoping that he’d understand.
“The first one to what, love?” He asked. His eyes were intense, now. They looked at you like they wanted to see through you. You shivered and licked your lips. Your mouth opened and closed, words wanting to get out but didn’t know how. “Y/N,” Bucky said when you didn’t answer. “Honey,” he called out. “Are you a virgin, love?”
You nodded. Your whole body was burning with embarrassment, burning under the intense look of his beautiful eyes. You fidgeted in your place, tearing your eyes from his, you gave your whole attention to his dog tags. You played with them until you felt his fingers gripping your chin gently and tilting up.
“Are you sure?” He asked. “Do you really want me to do that?” You nodded again. Words were hard for you, at the moment, you were beyond embarrassed. “Sweetheart, I’m honored that you see me worthy.” You snorted.
“Dork,” you whispered. He grinned.
“That’s me,” he said, making you snort again. “Alright, let’s take a shower together.” He grabbed your hand and pulled you towards the bathroom. He left you by the sink to undress while he adjusted the water. You were stripping off your clothes one by one, not feeling so confident about your body, you had a strong urge to hide it.
It was Bucky, though. You may not have known for a long time, but you knew he wouldn’t mind. Still, you couldn’t silence the irritating small voice in your mind that had been whispering how different you looked from all the women Bucky had seen out with.
“Water is ready,” he announced, unaware of your inner struggle. He turned around as he yanked his t-shirt off his body. “Y/N? Are you okay?” His eyes roamed your body, moving up and down and up again. “What is it? It’s fine if you don’t want to do this─”
“It’s not that,” you muttered. “Well, sort of about it, not that exactly.” You shrugged. Your tears were on their way to fill your eyes, you could feel them, but you weren’t going to cry. “It’s just… I don’t have a model’s body, like, um, all the other women you’ve dated? I don’t have it, and um, it just makes me feel a little self-conscious?” You watched Bucky’s face going from worried to soft in a matter of seconds.
“Baby,” he whispered, stepping forward and getting into your personal space. “I don’t care.” He tucked your hair behind your ear, stroked your cheek and looked deep into your eyes. “I don’t care that you don’t have a model’s body. I actually like your body better than theirs because yours tell me that you’re happy and not starving yourself to look the way they do. You’re beautiful.” You whimpered. “It’s alright if you wanna back up, it really is, but please do not think that I won’t find you attractive because you don’t have a body like theirs, okay?” You sniffed lightly as you nodded.
You slowly got rid your t-shirt, dropping it on the floor like he did with his, and reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. He looked into your eyes all the while you undressed yourself. His eyes never flickered down once. They kept looking into your eyes, and his thumbs kept stroking your cheeks and your neck. Once you got naked, you fought with the urge to wrap your arms around yourself and cover your bits. Bucky liked your body, you reminded yourself. You were beautiful to him.
“There you go,” Bucky whispered. “That’s a good baby.” He leaned in and pecked your lips. “Let’s get under the water, alright?” You nodded. He quickly rid himself from his remaining clothes. His tattooed and pierced body’s naked glory was right in front of you, and you wanted to leave some marks. You wanted people to know that he was yours, now, no one else’s. “Come on, love.” He nudged you into the shower gently, pulling you out of your head. You carefully stepped into the tub, the water hitting your back immediately, you shivered with the warm water. Bucky walked in behind you and closed the glass doors.
Bucky plastered his front to your back, gently encouraging you to lean against him. His arms wrapped around your middle, he dipped down and placed kisses on your neck. The steam coming from the warm water warming your body, making his kisses feels even more sensual. You shivered.
“Let’s get you wet,” he murmured, eyes shining with mischief. You let out a soft snort and rolled your eyes. He grinned. He turned you around and stepped under the water with you still leaning against his body. You could feel his well-defined muscles on your back. His bulging biceps around your waist was giving you a nice feeling, too. His already warm body was even warmer now thanks to the water.
You sighed.
Bucky grabbed the shampoo and washed your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. After you were clean, it was his turn. He had to crouch down, later he went down on his knees since it was easier for you to reach all of his hair easily. As you washed his hair, Bucky held onto you, face buried in your stomach, he breathed calmly as you massaged his scalp like he did to you. You could feel the tension draining out of him. He must be exhausted, you thought, and suddenly felt guilty about springing this whole I-want-to-have-sex-with-you conversation. He needed rest, not more action. You huffed to yourself silently. Telling him to stand up, you grabbed the second loofah and dragged it along his body, washing away the dirt and sweat of the concert.
Washing away the shampoos and last of the dirt on your body, you turned off the water and stepped out, Bucky right behind you and still holding onto your waist. He grabbed a big towel from one of the cabinets. It was white and looked so fluffy. He smiled when he saw your wide eyes and wrapped it around your body, squeezing you into a hug with towel around you, he held you against his chest. You chuckled. Your face was right into the crook of his neck; his warm body was radiating heat even with a towel between your bodies.
“It’s so fluffy,” you said, amusement in your voice. Bucky snickered.
“Yeah, that’s what I love about fancy hotels.” Bucky wiggled his eyebrows and grabbed another towel from the rack to dry himself. Both of you walked back into the bedroom again with your naked bodies covered with fluffy towels.
“Hey,” you called out softly. “We, um, don’t have to do it now,” you said. “I know you’re tired, and you need some rest. So, it’s totally okay if you─” Bucky placed a finger on your lips and silenced you.
“I want it,” he whispered. “I am tired, I’m not gonna lie, but I want to do this, too.” Amusement shone in his eyes. “Don’t be surprised if I fall asleep on you in the halfway, though,” he said. You chuckled. Your hand poked out under the towel and hit him on the arm gently. Bucky grinned. He leaned in and kissed your cheeks; they felt warm under his lips.
Bucky started humming as his hands grabbed the hem of the towel that you’ve been hugging tightly. You frowned lightly, trying to make out what he was humming. While you were thinking, Bucky took the towel off of you gently. You barely felt the cold air hitting your body because of his body heat. It was coming off of him in waves and warming you in a weird way. He smiled as he pulled back a little. His face was so close to yours, his moving lips were brushing against yours as he continued to sing the song.
“Television lover, baby, go all night,” he sang softly. “Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet,” he continued and pressed a kiss on the corner of your lips, arms pulling your closer to his body. “Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah.”
You frowned lightly, face scrunched in a very adorable way. “What are you singing?” You asked, still trying to making out what song he was singing. Bucky grinned.
“Ooh, in the name of love,” he started and saw the light bulb going off. “Pour some sugar on me. C’mon, fire me up.” He swayed to right and left, making guitar sounds just to make you giggle. “Pour some sugar on me. I can’t get enough!” You laughed.
“Oh my God, Bucky!” you exclaimed, tears in your eyes. “I can’t believe you’re singing─”
Bucky grinned even wider. “I’m hot, sticky sweet. From my head to my feet, yeah!”
Both of you cracked up. Bucky was still humming the song as he, too, discarded his towel. He came closer, looking into your eyes and searching for a ‘yes’ in there, which you gave him while still giggling. Bucky crouched lightly to grab you by your thighs and hoisted you up. You squeaked. Your arms were quick to wrap around his neck as he carried you to the bed.
“Crazy little woman in a one man show,” he continued to sing. “Mirror queen, mannequin, rhythm of lovee!” You snorted. “Sweet dreams, saccharine, loosen up.” He kissed your cheek. He lowered you on the bed, lying you down gently. You smiled at him. Bucky winked and leaned in.
His lips found yours with a sweet sigh escaping from you. Bucky hummed. His lips stroked yours gently, pried them open to deepen it with a small tilt of his head, and suddenly, you were kissing heatedly. You moaned when you felt his tongue licking at your bottom lip, his teeth nibbling on the soft flesh lightly. You opened your mouth, allowed his tongue inside and moaned again. Bucky grunted. He dropped his body onto yours, minding his weight, and caged you under him.
“Baby,” Bucky moaned when he pulled back for oxygen. His lips moving from yours to your neck, he hummed appreciatively. The light scruff he had was scratching the skin of your neck raw, but you didn’t mind. It felt so good, so nice to have his warm body onto yours like this and to feel his lips on your skin. Your body was on fire. Between your thighs, you were aching and dripping wet; the urge to press them together was strong, but Bucky was in the way.
“Bucky,” you sighed as he nipped on your collarbones. His breath was hot on your already heated skin. The rough texture of his hands drove your body into the edge of oversensitivity as they brushed and stroked every inch of skin they could reach. Bucky hummed appreciatively at the sight of your breasts on his face. His eyes flicked up at yours, silently asking for a permission. Heart beating in your mouth, you nodded. Every breath you drew in was burning you in the best way, making your head rush.
You gasped loudly when his hot and wet mouth closed over your nipple. His tongue was teasing the delicate nip gently; cheeks hollowing as he sucked on it, he slurped. One of his hands had closed over your other breast; the rough texture that drove you crazy was on your boob now, and his calloused fingers were playing with your nipple. Your arched your back. Your hands wound tight in his longish brown hair, pulling on them whenever he sucked too hard and twisted your nipple in a very good way.
“Oh, shit, Bucky!” Eyes closed, you threw your head back as you thrusted your chest against his face more. Bucky just grunted and switched nipples. His hand was now playing with your saliva covered nipple while his mouth had closed over your other breast. When you moaned high and very feminine, Bucky scrapped his teeth over the sensitive bud, making your hips buck against his unintentionally. “God, I─ This─ Shit, feels so good,” you sighed, breath hitching.
Bucky let go of your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’ sound and placed a kiss on your sternum. He kissed his way down, tongue dipping into your belly button and placing a kiss there, too. You tried not to squirm away when he finally made contact with your dripping core. His hot breath was licking your mound, making you hyperaware of his presence there and also making you even wetter.
Feeling how nervous you were, Bucky looked at you softly and kissed your inner thighs. You breathed in shakily. His lips were covering your inner thighs with kisses, hands stroking your sides and stomach, fingers occasionally finding your nipples, Bucky calmed you down. Soon, you were melting under his soft and loving touches as he made his way to your pussy slowly.
First flick of his tongue on your clit had you gasping, bucking your hips and grabbing onto his hands on your stomach. Bucky shushed you and placed a kiss on your clit, sucking it just a little.
“Oh my God! Bucky!” You moaned. He shushed you again with grounding strokes of his thumbs on the back of your hands. He dove in.
His tongue flicked on your clit over and over again, lips closed around the tiny bud and sucked little hickeys onto it. His scruff was rubbing on your inner thighs and making this whole new experience even better. You kept moaning, whining and whimpering; your hands never letting of his, you held onto them tight as you arched your back and buried your face into the pillow with your eyes closed.
You could feel your slick running down, dripping onto bed, because the sounds Bucky was making while eating you out were so hot, it made your thigh muscles twitch around his head. He was burying one groan after the other into your pussy, humming and grunting at the taste of your slick and your tight hold on his hands.
At one point, he pulled back. Freeing one of his hands out of your hold, Bucky swiped a finger from your slit to your clit. You cried out. The colors were exploding behind your closed eyes; your body was taut with the expected orgasm. Bucky swiped his fingers a few more times before he slowly dipped it inside you. An audible hitch in your breath, Bucky stopped. He pulled his finger back slightly only to push it back in.
“James,” you whined. You could feel the pressure gathering in your lower belly. “Please, God, please─” You groaned when he continued to move his fingers in you as he pressed his thumb over your clit. You were close. You were so close, you could fucking taste it. You whimpered. Your free hand found his body, and you grabbed the meaty shoulder, digging your nails deep. Bucky hummed and crooked his fingers.
You screamed when you came.
Your body went taut, muscles cramping, you felt them relaxing at the same time. It was a bit weird and amazing feeling which you loved. It wasn’t that you’ve never made yourself come, you have, but none of them felt like this.
“Your fucking face─” You heard Bucky growl lightly. He climbed his way up to your lips and kissed you passionately. “The way you look when you come? Gorgeous.” He kissed you harshly, nipping your bottom lip. “The way you taste? Magnificent. Pouring out some sugar for me, there, don’t you, baby?” You felt your cheeks burn at his words as he ducked in for yet another kiss which you gave him happily. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him even closer. He pulled back just a little and started kissing on your cheeks and neck. “You still wanna do it?” He asked. You nodded. “Speak up, bubba,” he nudged your jaw with his nose. You squirmed happily at the pet name.
“Yes,” you whispered. “Still wanna do it. Still wan’it to be you. Please?” You looked at him with wide eyes, face open and excited.
Bucky wanted to hide you in his bed forever because you were too good to be true. “Alright, love, okay,” he whispered. He reached for his wallet that he left on the bedside drawer and pulled out a condom. Bucky was quick and efficient as he put on the condom, discarding its small package.
You gasped lightly when you saw his cock. It was a little above average, wasn’t too big that it might really hurt you. He was uncut, but you could see faint lines of veins throbbing there. There was a shining metal going through his cock head, but to avoid panicking, you diverted your eyes to his ball. They were big and looked full, and suddenly, you felt your body burning even more with the thought of them slapping against your skin.
“It’s might hurt at the beginning, okay?” He said, drawing your attention back to him. “Tell me, please, just tell me to stop if it hurts really bad or you just don’t wanna do this anymore, alright?” You nodded. He tapped on your lips. “Words, honey.”
“Yes,” you breathed. “I’ll tell you to stop if I don’t like it.” He nodded with a big smile on his face.
“That’s right,” he whispered and kissed you. Settling in deeper between your thighs, Bucky kept kissing you. One of his hands was on your face, gently stroking your cheek, while the other had grabbed his cock and lined it up.
The slide in was smooth, and Bucky was going real slow. He really didn’t want to hurt you, make this experience a bad one, so he was being extra careful. He could feel how your silky wet walls wrapping his cock slowly as he inched in, in and in. His eyes were rolling backwards behind his closed lids. It was addicting, the way you felt around him. Bucky never wanted to pull out, wanted to stay buried in you forever because you were so tight, so warm and so wet, it was like a dream come true.
“Sweetheart,” he croaked. “You feel so fuckin’ good.” Your breath hitched at his low voice calling you a sweet name. Between your thighs you were aching, hurting just a little it, too, but it wasn’t unbearable. You held onto him tight, reeled into the feeling of his cock sliding into you and just… felt.
You whimpered when his cock was fully seated. There was a throbbing pain, almost pulsating with the same beat as your heart. Bucky was panting in your ear. He wasn’t moving, was just holding you tight against him and trying to control himself until you gave him the go. You hummed a little as he pain subsided.
“You good, bubba?” He asked, lifting his head only a little to look you in the eye. You sniffed, tears had sprung to your eyes at the pain, but it was gone now. You nodded, hands tightening on his shoulders.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “Move, please?” Bucky groaned. He gave you another kiss on the lips: A sweet, chaste and soft kiss. You sighed into it.
Carefully, he pulled out a bit and slid back in, stealing your breath. His breathing was shaky. You could hear his silent grunts and groans. His hands were fisting the bedding until you grabbed them and twined your fingers together. He kissed your neck as thanks. He continued to thrust into you slowly. Every drag of his cock, you could feel it in your bones, deep in your body, and it was so goddamn good.
“God,” you choked on a moan. “Fuck, faster, please─” Bucky growled.
“Don’t wanna hurt you,” he hissed through his clenched teeth. Sweat was beading on his forehead, chest and back, making his skin glow. You whimpered as you turned your head to him where he buried his face into the crook of your neck and kissed his temple.
“You won’t,” you said. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, please!” You clenched your thighs around his hips, urging him to move a little faster. His growling increased; it sounded like he was almost snarling with each thrust of his hips.
“You want it hard, darlin’?” He asked, taunted. You whimpered again as you nodded. A wanton cry of ‘yes’ spilled out of your mouth. “You want me to fuck you faster, hm?” You let out another litany of yeses and tightened your hands in his. Bucky groaned deep and loud. His hips started to snap against yours. His balls hitting your slick covered skin, his cock started to move in and out of you at a rapid pace.
The pleasure it brought was fucking blinding.
You moaned when he gave you a particular hard thrust. You were moving up and down on the bed where you were lying on your back as Bucky thrusted in and out of you madly. You could feel the metal you saw through the condom stroking your sensitive walls, making the pleasure feel even better, and you knew you were going to come. You could feel how close you were.
“James,” you breathed, your face drowning in pleasure as he looked at you. “’m gonna come,” you whined. “’m so close, ‘m gonna come!” Bucky snarled.
Straightening up a bit, he leaned onto his elbows, still holding your hands. His thrusts were deeper now. He was hitting at a spot that got you choking on almost every moan that wanted to get out, stealing your breath with each thrust; you were delirious.
“Bucky,” you sighed. Your voice carried a panicking tone, but it was because you were so close to coming. “Bucky, fuck, I’m─”
“Come, honey,” he whispered, lips brushing yours. “Come for me, c’mon.” He ducked down to bite one of your breasts, sucking and licking at the same time. You gasped. Your thighs and walls clenched around him so tightly, Bucky’s eyes rolled behind his head, mouth open and he was almost drooling at the sensation. “Fuck!” He roared. The vice of your walls around his hard cock felt so fucking good, he started to move in and out of you rapidly. He was jackrabitting, so close to coming himself, and you didn’t mind. It still felt good albeit a bit too much.
“James,” you whispered. Your hand squeezed his and you lifted your head enough to peck him on the lips. Bucky moaned brokenly. He leaned down, fully pressing his lips on yours as he kissed you deeply. He was releasing moans and grunts and sighs into the kiss, into your mouth, and you smiled. “Come on, lemme see you,” you whispered again. Pecking his lips once and twice, licking his bottom lip, you bit it gently.
Bucky cursed. His thrust halted for a second. His balls jerked as he thrusted into you one last time, and he filled the condom with his seed, his face buried in your neck. You hummed. His weight on you was a welcomed one, it felt like a personal, living, weighted blanket and you hummed again.
“Oh shit,” Bucky whispered. It was quiet for a while. He silently and carefully pulled out of you and ditched the condom. He got up to get a wet cloth from the bathroom. When he returned, he gently cleaned the between your legs, taking away all the dirt and slight blood that he caused, and then cleaned himself. Dropping the cloth somewhere in the bathroom, he walked back inside the room, lay on the bed and gathered you in his arms, hugging you tight against his chest. You sighed contently. “How do you feel? Was I too rough?”
“Mm, no,” you murmured. Your face was squished on his chest. The barbells on his nipples were warm against your cheek. “It was perfect.” You smiled dopily as you pulled back. You kissed him on the cheeks and then on the lips. “Thank you.” He smiled at you back; the crinkles around his eyes showing themselves, he scrunched his nose.
“You’re very welcome, bubba,” he whispered, kissing your nose. You chuckled and settled back on his chest. You lay in the silence. Although both of you were tired, you didn’t feel the need of sleep immediately. Bucky was in agreement with you since he started to hum again. You frowned for a second until you realized he was still singing the same song from before. You chuckled. “Hmm,” he said.
“Same song still?”
“Yup,” he grinned. “Lyrics fit, don’t you think?” You made a questioning sound. His grin widened. He was expecting you’d react like that. “You got the peaches, I got the cream,” he sang, and you snorted out loud as your face burned yet again. “Sweet to taste, saccharine.” You started to laugh. “Cause I’m hot, hot, so hot, sticky sweeet!” He started to crack up slightly. “From my head, my head to my feet, yeaah!”
“Oh my God, stop!” You cackled, face buried in his neck.
“Never,” he said and went back to singing. “Take a bottle, shake it uuup! Break the bubble, break it uuuup!” He stopted, looking at your with the corner of his eyes. You snorted and bit his neck lightly. “Come on, sing this part with me.” You shook your head. “Come ooon! Do this and I’ll shut up, I promise.” You looked at his grinning stupid face. Rolling your eyes, you murmured a ‘fine’.
“Pour some sugar on meee!” Both of you sang, trying very hard not to crack up. “Oooh, in the name of looovee! Pour some sugar on meee! C’mon fire me uup!” Bucky flipped your positions, taking you under him again, causing your breath to hitch and stop you singing.
“Pour some sugar on me,” he sang quietly this time. He leaned in and kissed you passionately, deeply, lovingly. His lips traveled your neck, peppering kisses and then came back to your lips again. He whispered the last notes of the song as he leaned in close enough for his lips to crush against yours before he engulfed you into another hot and loving round of sex.  
“Ooh, I can’t get enough…”
Your grinning self was turned into a gasping and chanting his name with pleasure one real quick after that.
──
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Text
No Time
Summary: When a bad guy has Harry and the whole of Kingsman in his grasp, he only asks for Hart's kid as a ransom. But Eggsy's having a difficult time letting them exchange themselves. Eggsy X gender neutral Hart! Reader one shot
Triggers/General Warnings: No happy ending, implied reader death(?), hostage exchange (that we don’t really see), lots of tensions and angst.
Note: This is a repost of a fic that was originally posted on ao3 by AZFell_Books. (This is she btw, I am in partial control of this account. I am posting this here for my friend to read.)
The tension in the air was thick and practically palatable, creating an atmosphere so heavy with dread it hung off of the agents' shoulders. The only thing distracting both of them from the mood in the air was the anger they felt towards each other. The two of them were at an impasse, a circumstance that neither of them had ever really experienced before. One stood at the head of the ‘round’ table, hands gripping either side of it and twitching in fear despite them trying to hide it. No way in hell were they going to show him how afraid they were and no way in hell were they backing down. There were no other options. No matter how much the agent mirroring them on the other end of the table wanted there to be. No amount of arguing was going to change that.
"...We're wasting time. You have to let me go." They commanded slowly and deliberately. There was nothing in their tone that would suggest they were asking for permission or for one's blessings. A common person would probably cower and grant their request, but not him.
"Like hell, I will." His eyes narrowed. "You'd be bloody mistaken if you think you're taking one step out of this room."
"What are you going to do? Restrain me?" They challenged.
"If that's what it takes."
"We don't have any other choice. If I give myself up, I can get dad back and guarantee everyone’s safety."
"Except for yours dumbass. And besides there is another choice.”
“What are you talking about?” They questioned. “That monster asked for me specifically.”
“But he doesn’t know what you look like.”
“And? What’s your point?”
“We can ‘ave someone go in your place- I can go in your place.”
"No.” They firmly stated. “You can’t give yourself up like that.”
“Oh and you can?”
“I'll be fine-"
"No, you won't!" He finally snapped, maintaining sharp eye contact. "If I let you leave you're going to be impulsive and get yourself killed. Unless this grand plan of yours involves you getting out alive?" He tilted his head to the side, his tone mocking the naivety he felt they were exhibiting. Except they weren’t being naive.
"Then there's nothing to worry about," At the sound of those words his face fell in fear. He thought there was no way they could be serious. They turned their head to the side, maintaining a stoic impression. "We know how this is going to play out so why delay the inevitable?"
"Because it doesn’t have to work out that way if you just sit the fuck down and listen."
"I've been listening!" They pushed off the table and started pacing their side of the room. He didn’t move, staying on guard for he expected them to make a break for the double doors on his side. "We have been trying to think of a clever idea for hours! One that will thwart the big bad’s plans and save everyone but that's not going to work Eggsy!" They turned to look at him, eyes cold as ice although he could  tell they were about to melt. A tear was just about ready to trickle down their face. "There's no perfect plan where no one gets hurt. Where  there's no sacrifice and there’s no consequence."
"There has to be one." He looked down to the table, knuckles were turning white from his fierce grip on the table's edge.
"Not this time Galahad." He winced. When they’d say his code name  before he’d get a sense of fondness or sometimes care and urgency depending on the situation. But now it felt harsh and foreign. “We don’t have time for this.” They started to make their way to the door. They did not get far, naturally.
"Do not think about it Hart." They flinched. He spoke in a dangerously low register that was reserved for the worst of their enemies but certainly was never meant for them. Tensions were continuing to rise. "I promised your dad I'd keep you safe."
"That was your mistake. I'm not leaving him, or you, in the hands of that criminal." They moved to go around him but he was quick and snatched their arm and pulled them back."Eggsy.” They stared into his eyes, hoping that they could  convince him with a steely gaze. That tone alone was a warning and normally it would be enough for him to back off. Not this time. They knew what would happen if the tension in that room reached the highest point it could go but didn’t feel the need to stop it. “Do not make me fight you over this.” They threatened.
“Good idea, maybe then I can knock some sense into you.” Despite the challenging tone in his voice he prayed it wouldn’t have to come down to that. He wasn’t sure if he could actually fight them. They looked down, shaking their head slightly. An exasperated and exhausted smile on their face.
“You really leave me no choice, huh?” And with that simple sentence, at the highest point of contention, they took a swing at him. He ducked out of the way but it was enough of a distraction for them to wrench their arm out of his grasp and turn around to face him fully. They started throwing more punches, all of which he blocked or dodged, refusing to fight back. The two moved further into the room as they fought.
“Fight me all you want love,” He said when he caught their punch in his hand. Taking advantage of that he pulled them closer. “I’m not letting you do this.”
"I'm a goddamn Kingsman Eggsy!" They remarked as they managed to land a kick to his shin. It didn’t knock him down but they got their hands out of his. "This is what I signed up for! We all know we may die protecting those we love!" As the two fought, both were hoping for an opportunity to incapacitate the other long enough for the moment to pass, so they could achieve their very separate methods to reach the very same goal of safety for all. He finally started to fight back when he saw them eye the doors, grabbing and swinging them further into the room, as far from the door as he could. They stumbled and fell but got right back up again, starting to run on the opposite side of the table. But no sooner did they feel some semblance of accomplishment did he leap over the table, blocking their path.
“For fuck sake.” They grunted, reaching behind their back and keeping their hand there, not letting him see what they were retrieving. They stood still for only a brief moment. “Would you behave this way if Harry was in my position?”
“If he was being as brainless as you, of fucking course I  would.” The two agents stared at each other for a moment, taking time to catch their breaths.
“I don’t want to have to hurt you Eggsy. Stand down.”
“You know I can’t do that (Y/n).”
“I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that.” The fight suddenly resumed as they brought their hand from behind their back revealing a set of handcuffs in their grasp. They were using them as one would use brass knuckles, swinging and hoping to land a hit that would hurt enough to  distract him. Then maybe they could make a run for it. They weren’t sure if they could outrun him but it was worth a shot. The two continued to fight despite both silently starting to think it pointless to continue. But suddenly they jumped and slid across the table, finally having clear  access to the door. Unfortunately for them, they got the answer to their question: they couldn’t outrun him. He caught up to them in no  time and wrapped his arms around their waist, lifting them off the ground just a tad and effectively restraining them. They thrashed and kicked, trying to break free.
"Calm down (Y/n)!"
"No, let me go, I need to save him! I’m the only one who can!”
“You’re not the only one!”
“I’m not letting you or anyone else go in my place!” They spat as they continued their attempts to break free. “Why won't you just let me save him?!"
"I can't let that happen to you either!"
“Think about it Eggs! You’re more of an important asset to Kingsman,” They argued. “I only joined recently so it won’t be a loss if I get killed!” That statement sent shock through his body and he lowered them so their feet could touch the ground without fully realizing it. They, of course, tried to run, to kick, to do anything but he continued to hold his friend to his chest as they thrashed. Silently he thanked whoever or whatever he could that he was also stronger than they were.
“How could you say that about yourself?” He sputtered out, horrified. “Of course it’d be a loss. You’d break my and Harry’s heart.”
“Better a broken heart than a bullet in the head. You know he can’t come back again if he gets shot!” Yet the grip around their waist didn’t let up. “Will you let me go if I promise I’ll try to get shot in the head so you can alpha gel me back?”
“Christ you can’t joke about shit like that.”
“That wasn’t a joke, tough guy!” That response only caused his grip to tighten. The agent attempting to escape made more attempts, hoping to take advantage of the calmer environment but he knew their tricks. They were still fired up and were ready to spit out some fighting words.
“Eggsy let me go or I swear to god-”
“Yeah? What are you gonna do?”
“I don’t understand why you’re acting like this. He’s my dad and he’s saved me tons of times! I have to do this for him! I don’t care about your dumb promise, I only care about him and yours safety!” They kept fighting for they knew the moment they’d stop the weight of their situation would take effect and they would break.
“Guess what? The feeling’s mutual! I’m not just protecting you because of a promise I made to Harry.”
“Oh yeah?” They scoffed. “So what’ll it take to get you to let me leave?!”
“Fucking nothing! I’m not letting you go into this dangerous mess alone!”
“And why’s that Galahad?!” They seemed to be bursting at the seams, anger radiated from their body. “I’m a Kingsman agent and I can fucking handle myself-”
“Because I love you ok?!” Silence flooded the room. They immediately stopped moving, ceasing their protests. His own eyes widened when he realized what he had just admitted. His words hung in the air, the meaning behind them brought upon terrifying repercussions to the both of them. Neither of them looked at each other. One stared off into the distance in horrifying defeat, all the anger and energy they had only moments before disappeared. While the other had buried his head against their neck, hiding his face from the world.
“I… Eggs… You can’t possibly-” But before they could doubt him he tightened his grip once more and they knew it was his answer: Yes, his feelings were as real as his death grip around them. Neither of them attempted to move or speak. They both just stood there, letting his words sink in.
"Eggsy..." Their voice was soft and quiet, the dam of emotions  that had been building this whole time was about to break. "...This  is... really shitty timing. If I had known sooner-."
"I..." He interrupted them before digging further into the comfort of their shoulder. He didn't know if this would be the last time he'd have them in his arms. His voice came out muffled. "I didn't have the courage to come forward sooner, love."
"No Eggs,” They said soothingly, turning their head to look at him, or rather the top of his head. “It's not just you... We're both so dumb, huh?" Their head dipped down, allowing time they didn’t have to roll by.
"....I love you too." They admitted so quietly they were sure he couldn't hear it. But judging from the weight slowly was lifted from their shoulders they could tell he had heard. They turned their head to look at him and started to tremble. Everything was starting to become too much, the hostage situation, the lack of options, their feelings for him. The anger they had felt was nowhere to be seen and instead was replaced with a new emotion that had actually been there the whole time. It was just very quiet up until now. But now, it was the only thing they could feel: pure panic. His eyes which were once filled with a determined rage were now full of concern.
"What are we going to do? Honestly, what can we do?" He saw the tears streaming down their face. One after another, no signs of stopping.
"We'll figure something out." He loosened his grip to bring a hand up to hold their face, wiping tears with his thumb as quickly as they were falling. "Trust me." They turned around fully in his arms, throwing theirs around his neck. He could hear their sobs echo throughout the room and felt them tremble against his body. His heart just about broke. The dam, that they were trying so fucking hard to keep under control, broke. He sighed, exhaustion flooding his body as he reached and pulled out a heavy chair from the table. He took a seat all without losing his grip on them and gently pulled them down onto his lap where they curled into his side, trying to calm their sobs. His grip which once felt urgent and restrictive now was comforting. He trailed a hand up and down their back, occasionally bringing it high enough to play with their hair.
“I have to save him...But I’m so scared Eggsy.”
“I know.”
“I have to save you too” They choked out. “It’s not just dad’s life at stake here, it’s all of Kingsman. I can’t let you go in there and I can’t let him destroy this family.”
“...I know…”
“We’re back to square one… But worse now…. And we’re almost out  of time.” They gave a dry laugh. “I can’t believe what a shitty Kingsman I am.”
“This is in no way your fault love.”
“...I don’t know if I believe you.” He moved to lift their face out from the crook of his neck. They stared down at him, face red from crying and the overall rush of emotions they felt. They looked exhausted and downright destroyed. And something else… Conflicted maybe?
“Will you try?” He asked, leaning their forehead against his. They hesitated before giving a weak nod.
“I guess.” They looked into his eyes, feeling uncertain. His hand went to the back of their neck as he brought them closer, connecting his lips to theirs. It wasn’t how he wanted their first kiss to go, but that wasn’t hardly a concern of his at the moment. What was concerning was the shaky breath they took in and how when the kiss ended they looked at him, eyes full of sorrow.
“I love you.”
“I love you too-”
“And I’m sorry Eggsy.” Suddenly, there was a rush of movement. As quick as lightning they grabbed his wrist and pushed it to the arm of the chair. Before he could register what was happening he felt cold metal wrap around his wrist. It was too late to react. Adrenaline rushed through him when they stood up quickly and clumsily. Terror flooded his veins when he realized he couldn’t follow. They had handcuffed him to the heavy chair! And were now speeding towards the door.
“(Y/n) no! Please!” He begged trying to wrestle out of his restraints. They turned around again and he could see how destroyed they looked still. But they gave a small smile.
“You wouldn’t listen to me.” They said weakly. “I can’t-”
“(Y/n)-”
“I’m sorry. But I have to do what I promised to do when I became a Kingsman.” They shook their head and looked at him lovingly. “I love  you Eggsy.” And with that they turned and left. Leaving him completely alone and panicked.
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“I Am Not Starfire” Review
I would like to preface this by saying these are my own opinions and you are allowed to like/dislike this comic:)))
Okay, first off I’m getting straight to the point in that I did not like this graphic novel. The art and colors were nice and some of the concepts were good, but it was poorly executed and on the line of being harmful.
No, I do not mean “sjw” harmful in which the majority of backlash for this graphic novel came from. I don’t care that Mandy(Stars daughter) is a lesbian. And I don’t care that she’s overweight. In fact, I applaud the comic for at least not mentioning anything wrong with being lgbt and barely mentioning the fact that Mandy is overweight.
We need to learn that yes, addressing things like homophobia, racism, body shaming, sexism is an issue, but we need to normalize it in media and speak out about it in person. Even if catcalling, rape, homophobia is depicted as wrong in a comic, it still fuels that hatred from those people instead of normalizing these things. Hence why being called straight and white are “normal” to those hateful people. (Which I don’t agree with obviously.)
And on that note, THAT is why this comic is harmful. Not ONLY is Star slut shamed by her own daughter, who, btw, rags on Star not liking her appearance even though Star literally has not said anything about it and is supportive of her, but she’s also talked about how hot she is by other students/people in a degrading manner.
There’s nothing wrong with being sexy, but this comic both insults Star for being sexy while also tries to show being objectified is wrong bc the people who do so are assholes. You can call a character pretty without having at least one male character shout something gross, which leads back to my whole normalizing argument.
It is harmful for Mandy, the main character we’re supposed to be rooting for, to shame her own mother for dressing how she likes, and then complains her mother doesn’t like how she looks or acts. Which??? Star doesn’t??? She never says anything about Mandys weight, hair, attitude, or grades except for the fight about Mandy walking out of the SAT.
That’s not okay. You can’t have a character wanting to be excepted for who she is while hating on everyone else.
She literally has the “I’m not like other girls” attitude and that is the best way to describe it.
Probably doesn’t help she was made practically as a self insert by a woman who clearly doesn’t know how teenagers work and was cast aside during her high school years.
I mean, seriously? Having two popular kids be mean and talk about leggings and carbs while their most popular friend rolls their eyes? Which 2000 teen movie is this one from? And like, leggings have been in style for a while now. LuLu Lemon leggings? Ever heard of them? Literally every popular so called “basic” girl has them?
What would’ve been cool is to see Mandy grow out of her “I hate girls faze”, which, is a thing most girls go through in middle school/high school until they learn slut shaming isn’t okay. That would’ve been a nice way to reconcile with her mother. The realization that “oh shit I’ve been hating my mother because of what OTHER people think and say about her. I’ve been shaming her in my head for wearing “revealing” clothes because I’m mad at how other people flock to her while I’m an outcast.” Would’ve been way better.
And the whole Blackfire thing was super rushed, and brings more questions. Why didn’t Star just fight her? She clearly can. Star would never let Blackfire hurt anyone, let alone her daughter. And what’s the point of Mandy complaining shes different and won’t live up to expectations of the PEOPLE AROUND HER not her mother, if she does in the end? She didn’t NEED to get powers, even though it was pretty obvious she would. And it would’ve tied up the story nicely if she didn’t. Hell, Star doesn’t even WANT her to be a hero.
Lastly, the love interest. She was sweet, kind, popular, and accepting. Everything Star is. I thought maybe this graphic novel would have a part where Mandy is upset because she feels Star likes her crush as a better daughter than her, but, no. She’s just a sweet girl who’s way too good for Mandy. Their whole conflict was bc she posted a picture of her with the Titans, when it was established she always posts pictures of her face and is seemed to be outgoing. And she did it because of a dare? Like literally nothing was her own fault. And even if it was, she met a bunch of heroes. Who wouldn’t take a picture with them and post it?
Mandy should’ve seen her taking the photo right? So why didn’t she just say “hey please don’t post that right now?”
Also there’s the whole mystery of her father. Which both slightly slut shames Kori because of the possibilities but at the same time heavily implies Dick is her father. Why Dick wouldn’t stay with his own daughter or let her know? Idk.
In conclusion, this comic was very bad. Not because of Mandys appearance and sexual orientation, but because of her character. Her whole thing is “I’m not like other girls”, “it’s not a phase mom”, and “you just don’t understand me.” That’s the best way to sum up her character. Star was so sweet while she was bratty. Her love interest was like a mini Star who she loved even though they have the same personality and everything. Mandy never really learned anything until Star was presumed dead/badly injured by Blackfire. Mandy was rude, slut shamed Star, and was written by someone who doesn’t understand high school and hates the “popular” kids. Lovely art and colors, shitty writing and concepts.
Overall rating: 1/10. I really did not like this comic. Dick was the best part for me which I hope says a lot.
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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years
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Ah shit here we go again
Btw this is moth shigaraki
So imagine this you work at this place that’s like a zoo that has moths and other creatures ( u can tell I’m struggling) so ur coworkers were trying to get this baby moth inside it’s cage but it kept panicking and crying ( I think u know who is this baby moth) u went to see what’s up that’s how u saw the most beautiful moth u ever seen, you picked up the baby moth ( meanwhile ur coworkers were panicking) it just calmed down everyone was 👁👄👁 long story short u were now in charge of shigaraki, u took care of him feed him u did everything, until he was literally taller then u are ( moths grow up fast ok?) shigaraki was in love with u even when u had ur days off ( he absolutely hated when u had to leave home boy would throw tantrums) he would never let anyone touch him if anyone did they might of lost a couple of fingers, when u came back from ur break he would be attach to ur hip he would not let go not to mention he probably scratched the hell out of his neck so u had to deal with that, oh yeah he was overprotective of u won’t anyone touch u
Let’s just say u were super sick so u had to take a week off, u were devastated that ur not gonna be able to see shigaraki (u had to admit that u have fallen in love with him) so for now u were trying to get better, meanwhile shigaraki was losing his shit he thought u left him ( or dead💀 lmao) he couldn’t wait anymore so he escaped, it was easy finding where u lived since he memorized ur scent, u suddenly heard a noise come out of room ( u went to get some water or something idk sis) as u entered u found shigaraki, shigaraki ran to u and just hugged ( basically crashed u with his two sets of arms) he started to cry he wouldn’t let go, u got super worried and asked him what’s wrong, so he explained what happened then u suddenly felt super weak and almost fainted shigaraki was panicking asking if ur ok, u said that u had a fever thats all, shigaraki just put u back on the bed, shigaraki finally had the opportunity to repay u, he had read somewhere that sex can help ( it’s totally not an excuse for him to see u naked) he just wants to please u( his mommy 😏) his wings vibrated at the thought of pleasing u, let just say u had no problem with it. ( so when shigaraki is done reader flops shigaraki on the bed and fucks the shit out of him as a thank u gift lollll)
Kinks umm sub shigaraki whos eager to please and dom reader, this one hundred percent has a mommy kink umm I cant think of anything, this isn’t my best ideas so feel free to ignore this 😔😫
-🤡
Storms
Tomothura :) 🦋
I'm sleepy, and I want milk and cookies. Not to flex, but I only have to see my therapist every other week cause ig I'm just perfect.
Update I now see her once a week and have to take dbt a THIRD (?) time
I have a bad smell and taste in my mouth and nose from covid. It reminds me of meatballs but in the worst way :/
Warnings: masturbation, heat, vaginal sex, humping, loss of virginity (both parties), breeding, & mommy kink.
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I have rewritten this six times. No matter how much I write, whether it's 100 words or 1,000,000 words, I can't create a smooth transition between y/n's like caregiver (?) relationship with Shiggy to a romantic/sexual relationship with him. To put it simply, I give up 💀 . HOWEVER, I did cook up another scenario in my mind, so even though I have strayed from the original blueprint, I will still deliver a moth Shigaraki fic to all of you <3
To those of you brave people who aren't scared of storms:
1) I envy you.
2) I apologize because I need y/n to be scared of storms for my plot.
Thinking abt writing a poly relationship with y/n shigaraki and dabi. It’d just be so cute.
On another unrelated note: why did I get put on the gross end of scent kinks (yes, those exist)? Instead of being like, “mmm sexy cologne,” I'm like, “Dabi reeking after being on a long mission and cuddling, so I have to smell him and get his sweat on me, ” like Claire. Control yourself.
It was a beautiful night. The only light around you was the moon, the stars, and dozens of fireflies. It was warm and calm, no wind, no rain, not even a chill though the sun had set. You walked further through the forest. Your friends had gotten tired and retired to the campsite. You, however, had chosen to wander some more. You found clarity in the woods at night.
You stumbled upon a beautiful pond surrounded by luscious green trees. Lily pads floated in the water, and frogs croaked. The number of fireflies had increased, and little fairy circles littered the ground (you were careful not to step in them). There was a little cabin up a small hill. It had wooden walls and small windows which stopped you from seeing the inside.
You checked the time, 12:55 a.m. As you walked back, it started to rain. Great. A little rain never hurt anyone, right? But then it began to storm. The kind of storm that knocked loose widow makers, that made the ground shake, and could cause mudslides. You had to get inside and fast. You were closest to the cottage from earlier, and the trees got thicker by your campsite. You ran back as fast as you could and knocked on the door.
“Hello? Is anyone in there? It's storming, and my campsite is too far away, ” you called.
“It's open, ” a voice called.
You opened the door and shut it quickly, not wanting to be out in the storm for a second longer. Then, you took off your shoes.
“I’m making tea for us, ” the voice said.
“Oh, it's ok. You really don't have to-”
“I didn't ask you, ” the voice said again, “just accept my hospitality, ”
You sat down on the couch and scrolled through your phone. Even though you had sworn it had 50% left, it was now nearly dead.
“Do you have a phone charger I could borr-” the lights flickered off, “never mind, ”
Here you were, trapped in a stranger's house as it stormed with nothing but a dead phone and no power. The stranger walked into the room, and your first reaction was to scream.
“Calm down. I'm not gonna hurt you, ” Shigaraki said, setting down your tea.
“You're- you have- what are- y-you have, ” you stuttered in shock.
“Yeah, I've got wings and shit. Calm down, ” Tomura said, taking a sip of his tea.
You sat in silence for a moment as you processed.
“I'm tomura shigaraki, ” he said, “if we're stuck here together while it storms, we might as well know each other's names, ”
“I'm y/n, ” you said.
“Pretty name, ” Shigaraki said.
“Thank you, ” you nodded, “so how long do you think the storm will last?”
“No idea, but here it can rain for up to five days, ” he said.
“Oh, ” you said.
“It’ll be fine. I've got food for both of us, ” Shigaraki said.
“No, that's not what I'm worried about. I'm just scared of-” thunder roared, and lightning struck. You nearly jumped out of your seat.
“You're scared of storms, ” he finished, “you can come sit next to me if it would make you feel better or whatever, ” he offered.
You nodded and sat next to him. Despite looking...strange, his presence was very comforting. More thunder and lighting caused you to jump. He wrapped one of his soft wings around you.
“You're fine, y/n. Don't worry, ok?” Tomura said.
Did he know why he was letting you sit so close to him? No. Did he know why he wanted to comfort you? Also no.
“You're wet, ” he said.
You nearly choked, “what?”
“I’ll give you some clothes while yours are in the dryer, ” he said, getting up.
“Can I come with you?” you said, “I don't want to be alone, ”
He sighed, “sure, come on, ”
You both headed up to his room, and he threw you some clothes. Shigaraki looked at you, waiting patiently.
“Well?” he said.
“I'm not gonna change in front of you, ” you said, cheeks glowing bright red.
“I don't know why you're making it a big deal, ” he muttered, turning away.
Truthfully he'd never seen anyone naked and had lived alone most of his life. When he thought about you naked or even just in your underwear, he felt strange.
“I'll be right back, ” he muttered, heading to the bathroom.
He had a strange urge to touch himself, so he indulged. After unzipping his pants, he cupped his hardening cock gently and hissed at the new sensation. It felt weird but good. So good. He wrapped a hand around it and started stroking it gently, nearly moaning out loud.
He turned on the sink to mask any accidental noises. He kept stroking for a while longer, stifling even more noises. Soon he felt an intense tingling sensation in his balls that seemed to grow stronger and spread throughout his cock. As he finally burst, his whole body relaxed, and thick, white sticky liquid shot out of his dick. It was foreign to him, but it felt wonderful.
Meanwhile, outside, you had heard everything. You sat on the bed awkwardly as Tomura came out of the bathroom. He took your wet clothes.
“The um dryer is just downstairs, ” he said, looking towards the floor, “if you want to come with, ”
“Sure, ” you nodded, following behind him.
With your clothes in the dryer, you both sat downstairs on the couch. It was silent until you decided to try and lighten the mood.
“So what um do you like to do for fun?” you asked.
“I like games a lot, ” he said, taking a carrot off a plate of vegetables he'd gotten the two of you.
“I like games too, ” you smiled.
The both of you talked about games for a while until you nearly passed out.
“Hey, head upstairs. I'll take the couch, ” Shigaraki said, noticing your eyelids fluttering shut.
“No, I don't want to take your bed, ” you yawned.
“Get upstairs y/n. I'm serious just sleep in my fucking bed, ” Shigaraki ordered.
“But-, ”
“No, no buts, ” he interrupted.
“The least I can do is let you sleep with me. Won't you crush your wings on the couch?” you said.
“Fine. If it makes you feel better, I guess, ” Shigaraki mumbled.
You both walked upstairs. Shigaraki found a toothbrush for you, and you got into bed with him. You slept back to back, but it was cold. No, frigid. He could tell by the way you were shivering. He turned towards you and held you with both pairs of arms. A wing draped over you, and he rested his chin on your head.
“Don’t make it weird, ” he grunted.
“Ok, ” you said, sleep clouding your mind.
By the following day, you had turned towards him, and you both were completely tangled in each other. It was still storming when you woke up. You pulled Shigaraki closer, savoring his warmth.
“Morning, sleepyhead, ” he said.
“Morning, ” you responded.
He stroked your hair gently, wings humming quietly. He flipped on the light, and to your surprise, it worked. The power was back on!
“I’ll make breakfast, ” you said, getting up.
He pulled you back down, “ten more minutes. You're warm, ”
Ten minutes turned into an hour as you dozed off again. You couldn't help it, he was warm, and his nimble fingers traced designs on your back. The bed was so soft, and so were his wings. After a while, he woke you up, poking your cheek.
“Can you still make breakfast?” he said, smiling down at you.
You looked so beautiful with messy hair and tired eyes. Shigaraki couldn't help himself as he traced a finger over your lips. He saw the blush on your cheeks and rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip.
“You have nice lips, ” he whispered.
“Thank you, ” you said.
He sensed your breathing pick up along with your heartbeat.
“Your heart is beating really fast, y/n, ” Shigaraki said, bringing his face closer to yours, “are you alright?”
“Yeah. yeah, I'm fine, ” you said, “don't worry about me, ”
He nodded, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.
“If you say so, ” he said, getting out of bed.
You already missed the warmth of his body; it was still freezing from all the rain. How could the weather change so quickly? You followed him downstairs and began to make breakfast. As you were cooking, you felt him put one of his zip-up hoodies over your shoulders.
“You look cold, ” he said, “take it, ”
“Thank you, ” you responded, pushing your arms into the sleeves immediately.
It smelled just like him. This was your routine with him for the next three days. On the morning of your fourth day, the rain had stopped. The thing is, neither of you said anything. You just went about your day together like normal. The truth is, you liked it here. You were so much happier with him in his little house than you had ever been anywhere else.
“The rain stopped over a month ago, ” he said one day, “why haven't you left?” that definitely didn't come off the way he wanted it to.
“Oh well, I can leave if you'd like-”
“No. Stay, ” he said, “I want you here,”
He got up and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.
“Stay, ” he whispered.
“I will, ” you said, pushing your face into the crook of his neck.
He held you like that for a while, savoring the feeling of you in his arms. The months flew by. Soon the leaves turned orange and red and fell to the ground. Next, the ground was bright white from the snow, and tulips began to bloom in the spring.
‘Shit,’ Shigaraki thought, ‘its spring’
He'd been feeling strange lately, and after googling his symptoms, he realized he was going into his first heat. He googled many things that night, some disgusted him, and some did quite the opposite.
“Hey y/n, you should probably head back and get your things. You've been here a while, so I'm just assuming you're staying, ” Shigaraki said, trying to sound nonchalant.
“I'm alright, ” you smiled, tending to the little garden you'd started, “I've gone into town a few times. I have everything I need, ”
“No, really, I think it would be good, ” he said.
“Shiggy, if you want me to leave, it's ok, ” you said, standing up and stroking his cheek.
He loved when you did that. It always made his wings buzz happily.
“No!” he said, “I don't want you to leave, please stay, ”
You smiled, “I'm not going anywhere, ok? You don't have to be so anxious; I'm staying, ”
He nodded, “I just- um, ”
“Go on, ” you urged, combing your fingers through his hair.
“I um think I'm going into...heat, ” he whispered the last part, “and I don't want you to have to deal with that, ”
“I don't mind, ” you said, “if it's alright with you, I’d like to stay. I'll take care of you, ”
He smiled and wrapped both pairs of arms around you.
“You're amazing, ” he said.
You giggled, “so what even happens during your heat? Do you get sick or something?”
“It’s hard to explain, ” he muttered.
“How am I supposed to take care of you if I don't know what's wrong?” you said, pouting up at him.
He shoved his phone in your hand, “here, ”
You read the screen, eyes widening and cheeks getting hot.
You looked up at him, “so you um, ”
“Yeah, ” he muttered, “as I said, you don't have to stay. I’m serious.”
You took a deep breath, “I want to stay. I want to help you in any way I can, even if it means letting you take my virginity. Truthfully I’d be happy if you did, Tomura, ”
“You would?” he asked, “are you sure?”
You nodded, “I think I've liked you for a while now. Even if you don't feel the same way, I just want you to know that I'm okay with whatever you need to do to me, ” your breath hitched at the last part.
You'd never seen yourself as submissive. You never took shit from anyone. Shigaraki didn't see you as submissive either, even with all the things you’d said. When they mixed with your tone and personality, they sounded caring but not in a submissive sense.
You were dominant, but not in the way he'd always thought of it. You were like...
“Mommy, ” he whispered.
So soft and gentle. Calm and caring but independent and strong.
“Can I call you that? It just feels...right, ” he said.
You nodded, “um sure, ”
“Mommy, ” he sighed, pressing his face into the crook of your neck.
You reached up to run your fingers through his hair. Shigaraki groaned quietly.
“About what you said earlier, I like you too, y/n, ” he said.
You smiled and pecked him on the lips. After you pulled away, he pressed his lips to yours again immediately. He grabbed your hair, pulling you closer as you yelped in surprise. He laughed softly, starting to slip his tongue into your mouth. Tomura tried to dominate the kiss to no avail. Instead, he fell victim to the way you were able to move your tongue around in his mouth, leaving almost nothing untouched.
You pulled away, admiring the dark blush on his cheeks. He's so pretty.
“I'm sleepy, mommy, ” he said before yawning.
He picked you up and carried you upstairs. You laughed and kissed him on the cheek. He put you down on the bed and practically laid on top of you. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his wings act as your blanket.
“Goodnight, ” you whispered.
“G’night, mommy, ” he mumbled.
You awoke to something rubbing your thigh.
“Mommy, ” he moaned, “mommy, please. Please, it hurts so bad, mommy, ”
As you became more conscious, you realized that he was humping your thigh. He’d already made a sticky mess in his pants and on your own. You kissed him gently. Letting your soft lips contrast between the rough humping of your leg.
“Want, ” he moaned, “need to mate, mommy. I need to please, ”
“It's alright, sweetie, ” you said, pulling him between your legs.
He began humping your crotch, panting and drooling.
“Mommy, ” he slurred, “I want in. I want in you, ”
His wings had been buzzing violently ever since you agreed. One set of hands cupping your face and the other holding your hips in place as he rubbed his cock on your clothed pussy. You wiggled out of your pants with his help, and he practically ripped off his own pants. He pulled off his boxers and ripped off your panties. He shoved himself into you, nearly screaming at the way your warm wet cunt sucked his cock in. The way you clenched because he was big, so fucking big.
“Mommy, ” he chanted, “mommy, mommy, mommy, ”
He lasted a surprisingly long time, wandering fingers finding your clit. He slammed into you, slapping skin and squelching filled his ears, but all of this was drowned out by his moans and whimpers. Finally, Tomura pushed you over the edge. You clenched and came all around his cock with a loud moan.
“Mommy, ” he sobbed, “breed mommy, I need you to take my cum mommy. I need you to let me breed you and make you all pretty with my kids, ”
“Yes, Tomu, go ahead, sweetie. Breed, mommy, ” you moaned.
He gasped and sobbed as an absurd amount of cum flooded your cunt. It began to ooze out of your cunt around his cock. He collapsed on top of you, panting as his cock softened inside of you. His heat was over. His need to breed you was met. He was exhausted, couldn't move to bathe, only pass out with you safe in his arms.
Over time you did swell up with his kids. He was so excited to start a family, to claim you with his offspring. If you had his kids, you were his, end of story. No one was allowed to look at you or touch you.
‘Mommy’s so pretty when she's bred,’ he thought to himself as he kissed your stomach.
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ladyvesuvia · 3 years
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@justadreamyhufflepuff: GSJSVSKSBSJD BABY CONGRATS- CAN I PLEASE GET A 🎠 -> Harry potter + soft love + fluff + prompts 9, 10, 32, 42 from prompt list 1. || for my 300 followers celebration
Prompts:
9. “You took all the pillows so I’m using you as one.”
10. “Stop moving and let me braid your hair.”
32. “Make a wish!”
42. “Darling I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”
Pairing: Harry Potter x Fem!Reader
Summary: Moving into your new house with Harry.
Words: 3.1k
Warnings: fluff but with slight and subtle mentions of sexual activities + let me know if i missed anything!
A/N: omg yay harry fluff :DDD ok sorry go ahead btw this hasn’t been proofread yet mbad
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After years of setting things up, they could finally move into their house. Of course, there were some parts of it that still needed fixing but they’ll eventually work it out. Right now, they wanted to bask in the comfort and triumph of their own house.
“Got your key?” said [Y/N], holding out her own key. She had already attached a duck keychain to it.
“Got it,” replied Harry, showing her his own. They both sniggered at his ridiculous bathtub keychain, which looked undeniably out of place but she was glad for it nonetheless. See, she had bought it years ago when they first talked about getting a house. “Will you do the honors?”
“You know, we could easily Alohomora the heck out of this bas —”
“Do the honors,” he teasingly urged, poking her on the waist where her tickle spot was and she recoiled. “Do it, [Y/L/N].”
“Ha! I’m Potter now, too. Ergo you’re not so special anymore,” she said as she marched up the raised porch. It was a lovely sight indeed — she could already imagine inviting the others to come over: roasting marshmallows either here or at the backyard and such. She giddily walked towards the door. This is it, she thought. “Wait, this is unfair. You carry me as you open it so I’ll be like a pretty wife.”
“That you are,” said Harry as he scooped her up into his arms. She let out a whoop of approval, patting his cheek as he put the key in and swung the door open.
All their boxes were on the floor already, with a lot more scattered all over the house. “Ooh, this is a lot of work. Wanna sleep it off?” she yawned, kicking some boxes aside on her way to the stairs. “What, you gonna protest, Mr. Potter?”
“Not at all, Mrs. Potter,” said Harry, and they both stopped and looked at each other, eyes narrowed while scrutinizing the name. “Mrs. Potter.”
“Does it sound a bit weird to you? I mean, no offense. I mean, I’ve waited for this half of my life but — you know?
“Yeah, like, [Y/N] Potter,” he said again, making arm gestures as if parting a curtain. She started to laugh. “I see what you mean.”
“You look like a . . . getching shooba driver but on land,” she said with a yawn.
“A what?” This time, Harry was the one stifling his laughter.
“Glitching scuba diver on land,” spat [Y/N], taking off her jacket. When she saw he’d been eyeing her with a dazed expression on his face, she made a show of getting off her right jacket sleeve with a suggestive smile on her face. “Wait, uh, can’t get it off. Sweat, I think. Help?”
“Will do, will do,” said Harry, approaching her and reaching out to pull it off her with a tight smile in an awful attempt to keep his laughter.
“Whatever. Can we sleep now, please? Where’s our bed again?”
“There,” he pointed somewhere in the kitchen room.
“I thought our room was upstairs?”
“Our room is upstairs, the bed is here.”
“Why would that be the ca—oh, no. D’we really have to assemble it?” she whined. They had to travel by Muggle transportation due to issues with the Floo network and they wanted to minimize suspicion, and the it was finally taking its toll on their entire energy: [Y/N]’s back was cramping from the long ride, Harry’s head was already hurting like hell. To make matters worse, neighbors were peeking through their windows so they had to go inside immediately.
“No, we can just bring the mattress up and assemble it all tomorrow, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah,” she said with a moan, tossing the jacket on the kitchen counter. “Yeah, yeah.”
“Oh, are we — ?” He shrugged hesitantly.
“No! I mean, do you want to? Now?”
“Do you?” The two chuckled nervously. They were standing there for probably around half a minute or one when the doorbell dinged and the two of them jumped. [Y/N] volunteered to get it.
A woman younger than her for about a year stood in front of her doorstep when she swung the door open, carrying a tiny baby probably about a few months old in her arms. [Y/N] managed a friendly smile as she wiped away a drop of sweat from her forehead.
“Hi, welcome to the neighborhood. I’m Karolina Martin. I live right across and I brought you something!”
“The . . . baby?” [Y/N]’s shoulders tensed as she thought about this over an over until she realized that was highly unlikely.
“No! You’re hilarious, though. I like you. I actually came here to give you” — the woman put down a bag she hung over her shoulder down on the floor — “this.”
Inside was a basket with a bottle of what [Y/N] could only assume was fine wine or champagne or whatever it was couples with a number of chocolates and cookies inside. She realized with a start there was also a pot inside.
[Y/N] laughed, holding up the pot. “Funny, because we’re Potters?” she asked, setting it back down again.
“You are?” Karolina said, impressed. “So which do you suggest I should start with first? Stoneware or earthenware? Ooh, what about fire clay?”
It took a few seconds before [Y/N] realized the direction of the conversation. “Oh! Well, heh, not that kind of potter.”
Karolina flinched, eyeing [Y/N] with suspicion. “You smoke — ?”
“No! Not that kind of potter. We don’t smoke po—Sorry, that’s on me, I should have clarified. I’m [Y/N],” she said. Karolina still looked confused. Composing herself, she managed a tight smile. “[Y/N] Potter.”
“Oh! Oh, my goodness. I’m so sorry!” Karolina chuckled. “I was a bit confused, I’m really sorry. I haven’t met someone around here about my age.”
“Don’t worry about it. Thanks for the welcoming gift, by the way. I just moved in with my . . . husband.” It still sounded surreal to call Harry that way, but she liked it all the same. Her eyes fell on the chubby little kid.
“Right! This is baby Sydney, she’s turning six months old next week. Would be really nice if you and your husband could come — and kid or kids, if you have some?” Maybe it was the coos the baby made or her adorable eyes and hints of two teeth growing, but [Y/N] felt intimidated by the little kid. She was bigger than she thought babies would be. Is this what she’d push through her bottom? She shuddered. “Do you . . . want to hold her?” asked Karolina, oblivious to the thoughts going on in [Y/N]’s heads.
“Listen, I’m really grateful you stopped by but we’re kinda tired. I’m so, so, sorry! Thank you a lot for these stuff. We’ll definitely come by next week — me and Harry, just Harry and me.” [Y/N] chuckled nervously again, smiling at the baby.
“I totally understand. Me and Joey were also very tired when we first moved in, hence Sydney.” Karolina laughed. [Y/N] simply chimed in the laughter as well, not wanting to jeopardize a newfound friendship over a joke. “Have a lovely evening, [Y/N]. I’ll see you around!”
When she shut the door with the bag over her shoulder, she jumped in fright at the sight of Harry just behind the door with an amused grin on his face. “What?” said [Y/N] as she rubbed her eyes.
“Husband?” he mused. When she shot him a glare saying not to push it further, he resorted to giggling. “Sorry, my wife.”
“Shut up, Harry,” she said. “Now, where’s that damned mattress?”
“Worry not, I got it upstairs already, all we gotta do now is take a quick shower and go to bed.”
After they finished dressing into more comfortable clothes, they made it a point to plop down as hard as they could on the mattress. To her relief, Harry had settled a plain white bedsheet on top of it earlier while she was talking to Karolina. She was the first to jump in, stretching her legs all over. “Finally!” she exclaimed.
“Your turn,” she said, pointing at a spot right next to her. Harry took off his glasses and was about to jump in next when she asked where the pillows were.
“Er — Accio pillow!” She could hear the sound of boxes moving downstairs bumping each other when a pillow came hurtling in and landed on Harry’s chest, forcing him to plop down on the mattress.
A shrill squeak sounded, and the two of them froze. [Y/N] narrowed her eyes, pointing her finger at him in accusation. “Did you fart?”
“No, we just still haven’t removed the plastic from the mattress.”
“You want to remove it?” she suggested, ready to get up and get her own wand when Harry gently nudged her back down.
“Okay, where’s my wand?“
[Y/N] looked left and right until she found it tying on an old bedside table he managed to set down earlier that day and said, “There! Bedside table.”
“Eh.”
“Agreed, let’s just say you did fart.”
“Agreed,” said Harry, who unconsciously wrapped his legs and arms around the pillow on top of him and closed his eyes to sleep. [Y/N] was quick to act. Not to take his pillow, but to turn him into one — metaphorically, of course. She laughed at the thought of using Transfiguration to turn Harry into a literal pillow.
Just as he wrapped his limbs around the only pillow, [Y/N] did the same to him. He woke up with a jolt, but did not take her off him. “I’m the little spoon?” he asked with a smile.
“Yes, and I happen to like little spoons a lot,” she said casually. Harry turned his head in her direction, with a wide grin on his pretty face. “Okay, that sounded wrong. It’s just that you hogged the only pillow so now I’m using you as one.”
“Well, do you want it?” he offered obliviously.
“Nope, I like this set-up. Go back to sleep.”
And he did — they both did. At some point during the night, they turned each other into a pillow. Harry, however, awoke to the sound of her snoring. It wasn’t like his Uncle Vernon’s, though. Looking at her face seemed to dull it all out. It wasn’t exactly an endearing sound, but the sight of her was more than so — tousled hair, mouth slightly open. . . . With one last smile on his face as he watched her sleep, he felt himself drifting off into a deep slumber.
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A loud clanging from downstairs awoke Harry. Had he overslept? He found that his back ached whenever he did so much as move, but knew better than to bide his time if there was danger nearby. He reached out to the bedside table to grab his wand, but realized he had to put his glasses on first.
Harry ran downstairs, clutching his wand tightly with his outstretched hand as he listened for anything there was to hear. He paused. A stranger walked out of the kitchen, and he pointed his wand at them.
The stranger held their hands up with a bewildered look on their face until [Y/N] came out of the kitchen all sweaty with a frilly apron. “Harry!” she cried in bewilderment at the sight of him pointing his wand at their new neighbor. “Alright, uh, Karolina, this is my husband, Harry; Harry — stop pointing your . . . stick at her — this is our neighbor who lives across from us, Karolina.”
“Er — hello, Karolina. Sorry about the wa—” [Y/N] shot him a dirty look. “—ander. Wander. Sorry about the bad . . . wandering. You know what? I just woke up on the wrong side of bed and I got paranoid with the . . . new house and all.”
“He tends to get jumpy,” said [Y/N] in hopes of wrapping this up immediately. “Anyway, five minutes left till it’s done. Thank you so, so much for the help, Karol! One last thing, for the whipped cream, do I. . .”
He then noticed that some of the furniture were already arranged such as the sofa and the dining table. Some cabinets were decorated with non-magical framed pictures of them. Harry begged to disagree, though. Each picture there was more than just ma— Is that a baby? Sleeping in a car seat on their couch?
Harry blinked. It stirred, eyes fluttering open. Harry was now holding his breath in anticipation. It was watching him curiously. When he did not move, the little thing started to giggle. Smiling sheepishly back, he made a show of raking his hand through his hair and walking into the kitchen.
It was still messy, but the fridge was on now, and some condiments were put where they belonged.
Karolina was washing a bowl on the sink when the baby outside started crying. She washed her hands quick and ran out, excusing herself while smiling apologetically at the two of them.
[Y/N] opened the oven, pulling out something that smelled of a scent that made Harry’s mouth water.
“Is that Treacle Tart?” he blurted out.
[Y/N] almost dropped the pan of delight she held in her mittened hands. She cleared her throat in an attempt to maintain her composure as she set it down on the counter and pulled off her mittens. Still panting, she looked at him and said, “Harry, darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen.”
“Sorry,” he muttered as he pressed a kiss against her head.
“Don’t do that, my hair stinks. I haven’t showered yet,” said [Y/N].
“What do you mean? It smells just fine.”
“Yeah? Well, it’s greasy. Is it greasy?”
“Yeah, you kinda look like Snape from where I’m standing. Ow! Sorry, bad joke. Okay, keep doing what you’re doing while I. . .” he trailed off as he grabbed her wrist gingerly and pulled off the scrunchie off it and started braiding her hair whilst she shook the whipped cream. “Could you just stop moving and let me braid your hair?”
“Oh, shut up! This tart’s for you, anyway.”
“So it is a Treacle Tart?”
“Uh, Doy,” she said mockingly. “It’s for your birthday, genius.”
“But it isn’t till next month,” said Harry.
“Eh, well, thought we could spend some time together in our new house without a crowd for a while. Why’re you even braiding my hair?”
“That baby got me thinking about it,” said Harry, as the child’s sobs started to cease. “You know, like . . . do you think we’re ready?”
“Well, what will be, will be.” She squeezed whipped cream on each side, scanning the final product with narrowed eyes. Harry tied the poorly-done braid with the scrunchie, letting her hair fall down to her back. [Y/N] turned to him. “Honestly, I’m kind of scared about the whole thing, you know? Like, aside from the . . . bloody pushing, it’ll be a huge responsibility. And I want to know if you’re up for it.”
“Okay,” he found himself saying so casually.
“Okay?” [Y/N] repeated to him, with an expression the combination of excitement and disbelief. “Okay as in, ‘okay let’s start trying?’”
“Okay, yes! Let’s start trying now!”
“Okay, but not right now, though,” said [Y/N] under her breath.
“Why not?” he said. Merlin, I have to stop.
“For one, Karolina’s right there at the doorway with Sydney.”
Harry shifted his gaze from [Y/N] to Karolina, who was now trying hard to stifle her laugh with a sleeping Sydney in her arms. “Okay, I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear that,” she said with a suggestive smile. “I’ll get going now, [Y/N], Harry.”
“Oh, you won’t try the Treacle Tart out?” called out [Y/N].
“Nah, we’ve eaten a lot of that already. We’re having cheesecake for tonight. Anyway, see you two.” With a friendly wave, she went off her way, leaving the two of them alone in their house.
Harry expected her to berate him, but she was already facing him with a slice of a tart resting neatly on a plate with a lousy candle set in the middle of it. “Make a wish,” she told him.
“Uh. . . I’m bad at wishes, you know that.”
“Then wish to be better at making wishes then make a better wish next month,” she said.
“Okay, I wish to be better at making wishes,” said Harry before blowing the candle out. [Y/N] pulled off the candle and lead him to the living room, where she put down the pan and separated the entire thing to put it on an adorable floral plate she loved.
“Happy super advanced birthday, Just Harry,” said [Y/N], kissing his head this time. “Have some Treacle Tart. I tried, okay?” Laughing, she put a fork on his plate and went to slice one for herself.
“Thank you, soft love,” said Harry as he helped himself to his slice. “Merlin, this is per—”
[Y/N] bursted into laughter, a couple crumbs spitting on the table. She had to get a tissue and wipe the table as she bellowed. “What’d you say?”
“Soft . . . love. Does that mean something bad?”
“No, no, no. It’s just funny to hear it from you. Say it again,” she said, resting her elbow on the top rail of a chair, eager to hear him.
“Soft love?” said Harry hesitantly.
“Oh my— Who told you to say that? Where’d you learn that?” choked [Y/N], wiping tears of laughter from her eyes. “Okay, sorry.”
“Er — you see, before we left to go here, Ron told me to experiment with . . . pet names.”
“So you delivered?”
“Do you not like it?” said Harry, his fork frozen in mid-air.
“Oh, I do. I so do,” she replied, chuckling. “I’ve had enough of tough love, I could use some soft love. But d’you know what it means?”
When Harry shook his head, she took one step forward to run her hand through his hair, grinning. “Means you accept all flaws instead of trying to build up a wall just to better and correct those flaws.”
“Then what’s so funny?” he asked with genuine curiosity rather than annoyance.
“Oh, Harry. Nothing! I just find you trying new stuff very, very amusing. Moving in here was a good choice, you know. Now I get to find out new things about you,” said [Y/N].
Harry smiled back, his cheeks a tad warmer than usual. “So which do you prefer? Tough love or soft love?”
“Eh, a relationship can’t work with just one of the two. Both works. Now eat your slice before we get working on this house,” said [Y/N] as she snapped her fingers, picking up her own plate and savoring her own work. “Chop chop.”
“You mean home?”
“Yep, I mean home,” answered [Y/N] without any hesitation. Oh, and, just one small update: they didn’t remove the plastic wrap of the mattress until next week.
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Sorry but what exactly is up with the bad batch arc? I've heard people talk about the issues with echo's white skin but I haven't heard that many bad things about the arc itself? (ik you said you don't want to be negative on your blog so I would absolutely understand if you didn't answer this ask)
Oooooooooooh boy. Well I just had a long, long, LONG rant about it with someone, but I guess I’ve got an excuse to put all of my points onto a post and talk about it publicly now that I got an ask x) I’ll keep it under the cut so I don’t throw my salt in people’s face. I really don’t want to upset people who love that arc - it has redeeming qualities, but overall it pisses me off so much for so many reasons. So here:
The first issue is obviously two members of the Bad Batch (minus Echo) being being just about the furthest thing from maori no matter how much you're willing to stretch it. 
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Like... yeah, nah. I wouldn’t even accept Crosshair and Tech (grey haired guy and goggles guy) as Jango’s natural biological sons, nevermind as his clones. 
The problem is that their different appearances are justified by them being described simply as clones with desirable mutations (i.e superpowers). But why the hell did the creators have to change their appearances for that to be a thing? How does that correlate? Sure, the concept of clones with different faces is interesting, except... no, no it’s not, and I’m gonna rant about it in a few secs. But basically it's like they thought giving them different faces would be a good substitute for having different personalities (another thing I’ll come back to). If they really wanted to have buff clones with super eyesight or whatnot they could have just done that, without making them lose what little melanin the lighting of the show had allowed the other Clones to keep. 
But the gigantic problem is... showing that the "regular" clones have VERY distinct identities despite their identical faces has been one of the themes of the show from episode 1. Literally, the first episode of TCW has Yoda taking time out of a mission with galactic stakes to tell the three clones he’s with (who tell him they’re all the same because they have the same faces) that they’re wrong, and that they’re very different in the Force, that their appearance doesn’t matter, that they’re all equally unique and important, and he lists all of their individual skills, strengths and weaknesses. 
And it’s not just me being bothered by that, here’s a post by @cacodaemonia​ saying the same thing. 
Introducing the Bad Batch as "unique" clones who are "different" and "not like their brothers" because they have different faces and skills completely breaks that theme of the show!! Because the entire point of the Clones in TCW is that their faces don't matter, they ARE unique! 
(Plus the Bad Batch’s character designs are so cliche and uninspired it’s just laughable to try and justify bleaching their freaking skin for the sake of visual diversity. 
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This took like 10 seconds. I found the first guy by literally googling “soldier movies,” and the other two are Team Fortress characters that look a LOT like Wrecker and Crosshair. One is “Heavy” and one is “Sniper” lmao.
And behold:
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The above picture is a Team Fortress reference that I found just by looking up “bad batch clone wars,” so I’m not the only person who sees it.) 
And the batchers don't even have personalities to justify calling them unique! They have no character traits beyond the most cliché american soldier tropes ever. We have a token loner sniper, a token "smart tech guy" who knows everything from xenoanthropology to biology to Separatist computers to sound waves to encryption, a token Badass Brooding Leader and a token “dumb muscle guy.”
I dare anyone to find more about their personalities than this: - Crosshair is the perpetually grumpy sniper who looks down on "regs,” - Wrecker likes to blow up stuff and doesn't like heights, - Hunter is the leader and is friends with Cody, - Tech is smart doesn't trust Echo. 
That’s it, that’s literally it. Four episodes about them and that's all we get. These character tropes are literally the least inventive ever. FFS, Hunter even has a freaking KNIFE! Not a vibroblade, mind you, like in kriffing Star Wars. A knife. Against metal droids. Why. They couldn’t make this more of an american-war-movies cliché fest if they tried. (And sure, he can feel electromagnetic waves so maybe it does make sense for him not to carry a vibroblade and maybe this is nitpicking, but he looks like a ripoff of a Predator character and it pisses me off).
Another thing is that when you introduce characters you have to make them likable - and them despising the normal Clones is a terrible way to do that! And they don't even grow from that because at the end of the 4 episodes arc they just see Rex as not bad "for a reg" and they see Echo as no longer a reg, and both of these things are infuriating! 
The worst thing imo is that Echo then becomes part of them (and irreparably loses his melanin in the process, uuuuuuuuugh) when there is nothing to justify this. 
The dialogue goes like this: 
ECHO: You coming? TECH: Not really our thing. CROSSHAIR: Accolades. WRECKER: Yeah, we're just in it for the thrill. Yo! HUNTER: You sure it's your thing? ECHO: What do you mean? HUNTER: Your path is different. Like ours. If you ever feel like you don't fit in with them, well, find us. (they leave) REX: Those are some of the finest troopers I've ever fought alongside. Echo. You and I go way back. If that's where you feel your place is, then that's where you belong.
Echo doesn't feel like he belongs anymore, okay, but why would he feel like he belongs with the assholes who up to the last five minutes of the mission thought he was probably a traitor, and also verbally expressed that he was not worth saving?? In all of the arc, Echo himself never voices that he feels he’s not ‘like the other Clones’ anymore and that he feels it’s a problem. His relationship with Rex immediately picks up where they left things off - the first thing he does upon being lucid again for the first in over a year is cracking a joke for Rex’s benefit. 
Why would Echo feel like he doesn’t belong in the 501st anymore, when we don't even see him interacting with anyone from his past life except for Rex and Anakin (who are both extremely very supportive of him)?? If there had been one scene of a “regular” Clone (ugh) looking at him with horror and disgust or something, or just Kix and Jesse cracking jokes with Echo awkwardly standing by the side not getting it, I could forgive the show trying to make it feel like he has an identity crisis, but this was so shallow!
The only thing that makes Echo and the Bad Batch’s experiences similar is that they *look* different. It’s so against the themes of the Clones I’m seething just from thinking about it. And what the hell? Echo ALREADY didn’t fit in. That was the WHOLE POINT of Domino Squad. They didn’t fit in because they thought they were better than anyone else because they had trouble getting along with their brothers, so obviously it had to be their brothers’ fault (ahem, Bad Batch?). And you know what happened? Domino Squad OVERCAME that. And Echo and Fives still didn’t “fit in” because their personalities were unique and creative, and they became ARC Troopers because Cody, Rex and the Jedi VALUED THEM FOR PRECISELY THAT. Echo having new and unique skills and a modified appearance is the most bs justification for him feeling like he doesn’t belong!! 
And that brings me to my biggest issue: Rex telling Echo the bad batch are some of the best troopers he's ever met. I'm sorry, based on WHAT? What Rex values above everything is loyalty and brotherhood, and the Bad Batch DOESN'T DISPLAY ANY OF THAT. We never see them even expressing concern for each other! Wrecker treats saving Cody’s life like a trivial issue, because it’s just ‘sO eAsY’ for him, and beyond that we never see them supporting each other or genuinely expressing affection for each other beyond boasting about each other’s skills... 
Sure they can destroy a lot of droids, but they're dismissive of Rex's brothers, and the entire Umbara arc and this arc showed what he thought of that. They keep saying things like "not bad for a reg,” don't show any trust in Rex's skills or experience (even though they can't have been fighting in the war for more than a year and a half when he’s been there from the beginning, and he outranks all of them), they are essentially guerilla fighters which has only minimal value in a galactic war, and they never grow beyond their views of what regs are, and can and can’t do. 
None of that should make them good troopers in Rex's book. Going back to Echo not fitting in, remember who taught the Domino Squad the importance of seeing all of your brothers as important and equally valuable? Shaak Ti, true, but more importantly? 99! The guy the Bad Batch are named after. He did have value and was important and was no less of a trooper than his brothers, even though his mutations made him LESS powerful, not more. (And btw, just from a writing standpoint, the batchers don’t have any weaknesses, which is shit.) Cody and Rex mourned 99 as a true soldier even though it wasn’t his sacrifice that brought them victory (which would have implied that he had value as a soldier and a brother because he saved them, as opposed to him having that value intrinsically), because that’s what a fine trooper is to them. A BROTHER first a foremost, someone altruistic, brave and loyal. The Bad Batch distort the meaning of 99's character with their behavior. They’re not altruistic, their bravery is mitigated by the fact that they’re freaking invincible, so of course they take risks (again, see Wrecker saving Cody without a care because it’s easy to him, as opposed to Rex being ready to run into a burning ship about to explode because his brother is in there, and having to be physically dragged away). The Bad Batch denigrate their brothers for being less skilled, thinking their own abilities make them unique somehow, when 99 could barely fight and was still the one who taught Hevy about being a good soldier. 
And again the batchers don't grow from that. Which is all the more frustrating because the original ending didn’t have Echo joining them, from what I remember of the unfinished episodes, and the arc actually ended with them receiving their medals in front of regular troopers who cheer for them, as opposed to them smugly ostracizing themselves and dismissing the ceremony as trivial and meaningless. (original ending vs s7 ending: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ab1eCfzKamw) 
It’s so annoying. Do you know what characters never had an entire arc dedicated to them and still have far more personality and more interesting designs and more symbolic weight?? 
Jesse, for starters. Kix. Dogma. Cut. Slick. Keeli. Ponds. Rys, Jek and Thire. Commander Doom. Commander Fox. Wolffe. Hevy. Hardcase. 
Cody was a more interesting character just in his RotS appearances. 
Waxer and Boil had one episode about them and then only two cameos plus Waxer’s death, and they’re still some of the most memorable, beloved Clones of the whole show. And Boil was grouchy and prejudiced like Crosshair, but he has so much growth that we could make a whole thread about it. 
I'd say the last problem with the Bad Batch is that it has cash grabbing money hungry vibes. Different faces are more marketable, cliché personalities are more toy-friendly, and it's basically a big ad for the Bad Batch series. And they throw Echo in the Batch at the end for bs reasons (again, it wasn’t in the original ep from what I remember) and they tease Cody in the show to make sure fans will still watch even if they notice the lack of soul. And less melanin sells more at Disney apparently. 
So that’s my whole pissed rant. 
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cipheress-to-k-pop · 3 years
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Hi hi! I was wondering if you could do a dick Grayson x Avatar like fem reader with either a jealous Babs or Zatanna I hope that made sense🥲
True Love’s Kiss
Pairing: Dick Grayson as Nightwing x Reader
Warnings: I don’t think so
Word Count: 4.1K
@writing2sirvive : Hi love, me again but with a request this time. If you have time of course. I was thinking true love’s kiss with Dick Grayson. You can go crazy with it because I know you love Dick Grayson as much as I do. Btw I love your writing so much.
A/N: I think I did it wrong...cuz even though this is a Dick Grayson x reader fic, it’s mostly centred around reader and Zatanna???? Sorry about that???
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You were fine with knowing that Dick was still friends with most of his exes. You completely accepted that he was able to keep functional relationships with most of them. In fact, it showed you how amicable and neutral Dick was and how he never held any grudges against people.
Of course, you were surprised by the sheer number. And the fact that he seems to interact with them practically every day. But eventually you managed not to let yourself get too bothered by it.
I mean, how could you? Barbara was the smartest, funniest, most approachable person you had ever met. She always made sure not to overstep her boundaries and was unusually open with you, given that Dick was her ex-boyfriend.
Raquel was adventurous and fun and you always had a good time when you were around her. She was another one who was respectful of your relationship. She never brought up her past flings with Dick, nor did she ever try and put you down. In fact, she was one of the people who really shipped the two of you.
You liked most of his exes. To the point where it made Dick kind of uncomfortable.
You liked most of his exes.
Ever since you had joined the team, being introduced as Nightwing’s significant other, Zatanna had been a constant thorn in your side. She was nice and sweet but there was something about her that rubbed you the wrong way. You could tell almost immediately that she wasn’t quite over her relationship with Dick. Short as it was.
Or maybe she was just the type of person who didn’t want someone, but didn’t want others to have the same person either.
Nonetheless, being around her put you constantly on edge. You lost count of how many times she redirected a conversation to be about her previous relationship with your boyfriend. ‘Oh, Dick took you to a fancy restaurant for your birthday? Well, I remember back when we were dating, he threw a huge party for me on mine.’
‘Oh, you celebrated your one-year anniversary with Dick in Paris? Well during our 3-month-aversary he bought me an expensive necklace.’
It didn’t bother you in the slightest. At least, not in the way that she hoped. It didn’t make you insecure or doubt or feel intimidated by her. It was just an annoyance that you couldn’t shake off, like the teacher you didn’t like or your annoying neighbour.
Unfortunately, Zatanna couldn’t take a hint that it made you and your friends (Barbara and Raquel included) uncomfortable and slightly irritated. Yet, everyone was just waiting for you to express the slightest distaste, not wanting to step on your toes. However, they were quick to change the topic in case they thought she was going too far.
Dick had been blissfully unaware of everything and you wanted to keep it that way. The last thing you needed was this turning into some sort of issue, especially since Zatanna was still his teammate.
However today you had enough.
You could look past Zatanna’s petty jealousy but allowing the jealousy to come to the forefront during a mission was where you drew the line.
Dick, M’Gann and Conner had been on a covert mission for Batman and out of the country and under team vote decided that you should be made in charge until he returned, since you were the only other older member (other than Zatanna but you were voted leader unanimously. Something you were extremely proud about). That was well and good, until you had been given a mission.
Regardless of how much you did not want to work with Zatanna without the others there to wrangle her, you had to put your personal feelings aside when you had a mission to complete.
You thought you could both be professionals about it and act like mature adults.
You were dead wrong.
If it wasn’t disagreements, it was insubordination. If it wasn’t insubordination, it was blatant arrogance. She questioned your judgment in front of the other members and even had the nerve to argue with you about mission strategies. You were trying to look out for everyone and put yourself in the line of fire since the squad members were better at stealth.
Zatanna seemed to think you were trying to steal the show and insisted that she be partnered with you even though you wanted someone with the younger members to keep them safe.
When you relented and agreed to go stealth, she accused you of ducking out and intentionally trying to put her in danger. The others had to watch as steam practically came out of your ears when you relented once again and decided you’d be with her because you honestly couldn’t argue with her much longer.
As if that wasn’t infuriating enough.
The straw that broke the camel’s back was when she refused to work as a team, putting the mission at risk and nearly getting the both of you hurt. She was fighting on her own, not bothering to have your back and going into it alone. Obviously, the two of you were overpowered quickly once they realized that you were pretty much behaving solo.
Luckily, the others pulled through and got you both out of there before anything horrible happened.
You sat in the ship, jaw clenched so tightly that they swore they could hear your teeth cracking, fists nearly white as you tried to control your anger and keep yourself from screaming at her while you were still in the air.
Once the ship landed in the docking bay and Zatanna was the first one to leave without saying another word, you snapped.
“What the hell did you think you were doing today!” You growled out, fisting her collar and stopping her in her tracks.
“What are you talking about?” She feigned innocence and you felt your skin burning. Everything around you faded out and all you could feel was fury. In hindsight, you would have liked to handle this issue in a more refined manner, but you honestly couldn’t care.
So, you didn’t notice the rest of the team, along with the a few members of the Justice League watching you chew Zatanna out.
Whatever would keep you from lighting her on fire was enough.
“I’m talking about putting the mission, not to mention ourselves in jeopardy, all because you can’t stop acting like a spoilt brat!” You hissed.
She rolled her eyes and you and the thought of strangling her briefly crossed your mind before she shoved your hands off her, dusting herself off like your fingerprints were dirt, “You need to stop blaming others for your inadequacy.”
She turned on her heel sharply and walked away. Blood pounded through your ears and your fingers twitched by their sides before you formed a whip of water from the bay and lashed it against her feet.
Zatanna, caught off guard, was thrown across the room before she caught herself with a muttered spell and turned around, glaring at you furiously.
“We’re going to settle things, right here, right now!”
“If you would stop being so insecure, then we could sort out our differences like mature adults!” She screamed back at you and before you could control it, flames erupted from beneath your feet and raced towards her, scorching the ground beneath it.
Each puff of breath you took released sparks. Zatanna immediately got into an offensive stance, levitating one of the weapons crates and chucking at you. You blocked it effortlessly using a wall of earth before throwing an inferno at her.
You kept fighting, flames and splashes of water going into the air every time you collided. The others watched in fear as you both raced towards each other, it looked like neither of you were holding back.
Before you could strike her again, you were being pulled away by Superman and as Zatanna was by Batman, they both pulled you yards apart. Even with his strong, authoritative grip on you, you couldn’t stop thrashing in his arms, throwing gusts of air at her.
“(Y/N). Enough.” Superman spoke in your ear and you calmed down, relaxing in his grip. He let you go after and you winced, feeling your skin bruise where he grabbed you. He gave you an apologetic glance at that.
“You both have to put your differences aside and work as a team or you won’t be allowed to go on any more missions.” Batman told you, voice firm but it didn’t shake you.
“No, Zatanna is going to have to put her issues with me aside and learn that when I have been elected as leader of the squad then you are supposed to put your petty jealousy aside and know your place.” You spat.
“You weren’t right for the position!”
“I did everything right! And if it hadn’t been for you, we wouldn’t have been under open fire tonight!”
“You’re not the boss of me!”
“When I am the leader of the squadron then I am! And you’re meant to listen and not question my judgement because you’re being blinded by your pathetic jealously!”
“I’m not jealous of you!”
“Oh, please! That’s the biggest load of crap I’ve heard from you and it was all proved today! Admit it! You were immature and fucking stupid because you can’t get over that fact that you dated Dick for what? 3 months?”
“That’s because he’s supposed to be with me!” 
“LIKE HELL HE IS!” You roared.
Batman felt a little helpless watching the two of you scream at each other. All this fighting? Over a boy? His son, no less? He had other sons and you were free to have your pick. But at this point, he wasn’t even sure what to say.
“You just can’t seem to accept the fact that he doesn’t love you anymore! Get over it! Because he certainly has!” You shouted, spinning on your heel and stomping away from her, determined to have the last word. Superman sighed in relief. He thought another fight would break out.
“You’re just insecure because you know that if he had the chance, he would come crawling back to me!”
A chill went done your spine and you felt cold fury run through your veins, turning around to glare at her murderously and clenching your hands tightly. You were so angry your feet were rooted to the floor, body seizing up slightly.
The others looked anxiously between the two of you as you glared at each other for a minute before you spoke with the calmest, yet most terrifying voice they’ve ever heard from you.
“Zatanna, you can try your damn hardest to win him back. But I promise you, you’re never going to get what you want.” You told her darkly, before walking away.
As Zatanna glared at your receding figure she decided she was going to prove you wrong.
***
To keep you from fighting with Zatanna again, when Batman came to you with a solo mission you couldn’t agree fast enough. Even though you knew you’d miss Dick’s homecoming, you still wanted to get the hell away from here. Not like you’d be missing anything important, other than Zatanna fawning over him.
You’d get to tell him how much you missed him in private anyway.
As soon as you were out of the cave, you couldn’t help the relief that filled your bones. You had been so on edge the past few days, still furious with her so the distance between the two of you was appreciated.
When Dick got home, he was ecstatic to see you again. It had been nearly 3 weeks since he had last held you and his skin was practically buzzing with excitement when he reached a cave, desperate to hug you, kiss you, touch you.
He got to the mess hall quickly, running all the way there and when he opened the door, he was instantly disappointed. You weren’t there.
“Where’s (Y/N)?” He asked Beast Boy, hoping he would tell him that you were just back at your apartment or that you had gone out for a while and would be back soon but he felt his heart sink when Gar gave him a sympathetic smile.
“She’s on a mission for a week.”
“A mission? Who’s with her?”
“No one. It’s a solo mission.”
Now he was worried. You usually didn’t take solo missions, liking to work in a team, knowing that there would be people who would be watching your back was reassuring. He knew you were more than skilled to handle a solo mission but not being by your side made him nervous and slightly antsy.
He was also upset that you weren’t here. So, he decided to do the most adult thing. Go home and sulk in bed while holding your sweatshirt that smelt like you.
But apparently the world had something against him because when he was about to go through the Zeta tube he was intercepted. By non other than Zatanna.
Now, poor clueless Dick had no idea that you had thrown hands with Zatanna just a day ago and was the reason why you weren’t there to welcome him when he got back. If he had he would’ve sulked at her and whined loudly for her to hear while he dragged his feet.
But, poor clueless Dick had absolutely no idea Zatanna was the reason he was being deprived of your kisses. So, he just smiled brightly at her and asked her if she needed anything.
“As a matter of fact, I found an old spell and I need someone to test it out on!”
“I don’t know how I feel about being your non-scientific experiment, Z.”
“Come on, it’s totally harmless, I promise.”
“I don’t know...”
“Don’t you trust me?”
He did. But there was just something about this situation that made him uncomfortable. Maybe it was because he missed you like crazy and just wanted to go home and sulk until you came back. Maybe it was because he felt uncomfortable to go somewhere private with his ex-girlfriend without telling you first. Or maybe it was because of the way Zatanna felt the need to guilt him into it.
Nevertheless, he agreed, albeit reluctantly and went to her room. Inside Zatanna had a bunch of ruins written on a paper and some weird poultices beside it.
“Now this isn’t going to work unless you give me your consent.” She informed, bustling about the room and Dick suddenly felt the air was a little stuffy.
“What do you mean by consent? Consent for what?”
“It’s a love spell.” She told him, smiling slyly but he couldn’t quite understand why. His hands got a little clammy at the announcement. What did she mean by love spell? Was she trying to get him to fall in love with her? Why would she be so open about it then? Especially when she knew he was in love with someone else?
“What do you mean?”
“Oh relax, stop being so tense. It’s just a love spell that proves who you truly love.” She said, immediately noticing how stiff his body was. Though she chalked it up to confusion. Dick was simply confused about who he loved, he was clouded by his attraction to you and he felt guilty about being unfaithful. But deep down, he really loved her. And this spell would prove it.
“In the olden ages, people would use it on their wedding to prove that their significant other truly loved them.”
He nodded, mouth falling open with realization. He already knew what the answer would be so why even bother? He assumed it was because Zatanna was curious to whether it actually worked.
“Too bad (Y/N) isn’t here, I mean I know who I love but I’d like to try it out on her. I mean, who takes a mission the day before their boyfriend comes back to town.” He complained, more to himself but Zatanna still heard it.
“Anyway, can I cast it on you?”
“Sure, couldn’t hurt.”
Oh, how he’d come to know just how wrong he was.
***
You raced through the halls, panicked, hearing your heart beat out of your chest as you sprinted to the Med Bay. Even though you were running as quick as possible you still pumped your legs to run faster, needing to get there quickly.
As soon as you saw Zatanna outside the Med Bay, you skidded to a stop in front of her and grabbing her collar, pinning her against the wall. She hit it with a thud and she saw white for a second when her head collided with the hard surface.
It was then you got a good look at her face. Her eyes were red and face wet. Her lips were bitten until they bled. You gritted your teeth, grip tightening around the collar as tears pricked your eyes.
“What the hell did you do!”
She whimpered, eyes getting glossy again before she started crying, incomprehensible words leaving her lips and you snarled before shaking her again, “You don’t get to cry! What the hell did you do to him!”
“It was a love spell!” She cried out, “It was supposed to reveal who he truly loves.”
“AND?!”
“It’s activated by a kiss.” She sniffled, “And I did.”
“Is it done?” Dick asked just as she finished casting the spell. His body was enveloped by a slight glow that was only visible to her and Zatanna’s lips curled when she realized it had worked. Now there was only one thing left to do.
“Yep.” She said, slinking over to his side and he pouted curiously.
“Are you sure? I don’t feel any different. You said it was supposed to reveal who I love. What happened?”
“We’re gonna find that out. Hold still.” She said, smiling and wrapping her arms around his neck to press a kiss to his lips. Dick froze, feeling her lips move against his and his mind went blank for a second before his chest contracted painfully.
He gasped against her mouth, before his legs buckled and he tumbled to the ground. Zatanna’s eyes widened when she saw the way his body twitched, pained gasps leaving his mouth and tears began falling from his eyes.
“Are you okay?!” She panicked, wrapping her arms around his thrashing figure but he couldn’t choke out an answer.
“Someone help! Anyone! Please!”
“A kiss doesn’t put people through cardiac arrest!” You screamed, feeling your chest tighten as you heard it out loud for the first time. Your eyes began burning and your throat contracted, feeling tears build. It was the first time you had admitted it to yourself.
You were scared. Emotions that you could barely process or understand swirled around you in a dark cloud and you were scared that Dick wouldn’t make it out of his critical state. If he was taken away from you because you hadn’t been there to stop it, you would never forgive yourself.
“I’m sorry.” She whimpered, sobbing and her body went limp in your fists. The urge to rip her head off her shoulders resurfaced. She didn’t get to be upset, not when this was all her fault.
“I don’t give a shit.” You hissed, “How do we save him?”
“A true love’s kiss should stop all the side effects.” She whispered, looking up at you with wide eyes, “If Dick truly loves you, then when you kiss him, it’ll reverse the spell.”
You needed to get in there.
You released your hold and Zatanna and she slid to the floor pathetically, holding her body as she cried. But even with her heartbroken sobs, you couldn’t feel any sort of remorse to her, glaring at her instead, “You better hope this works. Or I’ll kill you myself.”
And then you rushed in.
When you got to Dick’s side your breath stuttered when you noticed just how many things he was connected to and you felt your body shake. Batman was carefully watching him from his bedside.
You carefully walked to his side, gently brushing your fingers against his cheekbone. He looked like he was in so much pain. He looked so weak. You wanted to help him but a part of you was scared. For the first time in your life, you doubted Dick’s feelings for you.
The time you needed his love and devotion to be true the most, you were doubtful. A million thoughts rushed through your head and for a second you were tempted to just avoid doing this at all. But you knew that you had to at least try.
So, with trembling hands, you held the ventilator fastened to his mouth, taking a deep breath before tugging it off. Batman, already knowing what you were about to do, let you pull it off him before pressing a fluttering kiss to his lips. Tears gathered underneath your lashes when you didn’t feel anything happen.
Just when you were about to pull away, Dick took a deep breath through his nose and panted against your mouth, kissing you more firmly. You couldn’t help the sob that bubbled out of your throat and he swallowed it without any qualms.
Even through bleary vision, you were able to make out his blue eyes and the small smile on his face. 
His hands came up to weakly cup for cheeks, gently wiping away the tears with his thumbs, “I missed you.”
You sniffled, letting more tears fall because you knew he’d be here to wipe them away, “I missed you too.”
***
Bonus:
You walked into the mess hall quietly. Dick had just fallen asleep in the Med Bay where he would be kept for a couple days under observation. It was past 1 in the night and you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed but you had some unfinished business left to handle.
It was dark and it was hard to make out your surroundings until your eyes adjusted to the darkness. As you walked to the kitchen island, your eyes landed on the sorceress that had her head in her arms and wondered if she was asleep. Batman had said you were free to deal with her anyway you liked and that had been exactly your plan.
“He’s okay now, if you’re curious.” You told her. Her head shot up and she looked at you out of the corner of her eye before bowing it away shamefully. But you caught a glance at her face. She looked like she had been crying for hours, eyes bloodshot and face red and blotchy.
“Thank god.” She croaked out.
There was a beat of silence.
“I’m so so sorry, (Y/N).” Zatanna whimpered out before crying again, “You were right. I was jealous. And I did a crazy, wrong thing. And I’m so sorry.”
You sighed, nodding at her apology even though you knew she couldn’t see you. You weren’t sure if you accepted it, and you didn’t have to. For now, it could remain in the air.
“He really doesn’t love me....” She whispered out and you sighed once again, stepping up beside her and setting something on the table.
Zatanna glanced at the bottle of tequila and the two shot glasses you left. You didn’t look at her, instead choosing to stare straight ahead. You opened the bottle, pouring yourself a shot before tilting your head back and downing it, hissing at the burn.
“Obligatory break-up drink.” You mumbled, pouring her a shot and passing the glass to her.
She sniffled, looking at the glass in her hands before gulping it down. You took a deep breath, refilling the glasses. You still didn’t look at her, didn’t speak to her, just poured a refill when either of you finished and downed it in one gulp. The excitement from today and the tense feeling from sitting beside Zatanna kept you from getting drunk too early.
You two ended up finishing half the bottle, drinking in the dark until she passed out first and you followed soon after.
The others found you the next morning, passed out at the kitchen island, clutching empty shot glasses.
***
Bonus bonus:
Batman sighed, smelling the overwhelming scent of tequila as he came closer. None of them were able to wake either of you up. You were out cold, face scrunched up and head against the table in a position that would no doubt have your neck in a crick.
Zatanna was no better. Her hair was a mess, tequila spilt on her clothes and she was drooling all over the table, snoring unattractively.
“All this over a boy?”
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theshelbyclan · 4 years
Text
Brotherly Discomfort
Summary: After ‘the talk’, your brothers are adamant to protect you, but you throw yet another curveball their way. Part 2 to Growing Pains
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(Gif by @nofckingfighting​)  A/N: This is part 2 to my most popular fic Growing Pains and I used anon’s request: Could you do a Shelby sis story where she’s a lesbian and in love with a woman and her family doesn’t know. The family is trying to get her into an arranged marriage with a man and she can’t figure out how to tell them she’s a lesbian cause she feels they won’t except her? Sorry if that’s too much. Love your writing so much btw!! Thanks for this request babes, hope I did it justice :)  Words: 2387
*** “Right, Y/N, sit down,” Tommy sighed deeply and pointed at a single chair by the kitchen table, “We need to talk.” As you sat down, three brothers loomed over you. Tommy lit a cigarette like his life depended on it, Arthur couldn’t stand still if his life depended on it and John seemed to have forgotten what his life actually depended on, so he just stood there, unsure of everything. “We’re having another talk,” you stated. The last one, only a few days ago, was still fresh in your mind. 
“We are,” you brother confirmed. Arthur took off his cap like he was attending a funeral and stumbled, “We, uhm… We’ve had an idea.” “Christ,” Polly mumbled from behind her newspaper and you couldn’t agree more. “The thing is,” John finally spoke, “We’ve been worried after we… talked.” “Right,” you nodded, “Because of he subject of our conversation?” “It’s not just that!” your brother continued, with a slight frantic edge to his voice, “You’re growing up, but you’re still running around with the dogs at all hours. You won’t listen to anyone, do whatever you please…” Tommy continued where John faltered, “The truth is, Y/N, you’re getting to be too wild.” “Oh, fuck off, Tom,” and you got up with every intention to leave the room. “Sit down,” he said sternly, “We can’t have another Ada situation.” “Situation?” your eyebrows shot up, “What do you fucking mean by a fucking situation?” “The baby, Y/N,” Arthur explained. “I’m sorry,” you were boiling inside now, “but please explain: was the baby the problem or the man she had the baby with the problem? Or possibly, maybe, the fact that you three had no say in the matter?!” “That’s not the point,” John could feel this conversation wasn’t going as planned, “The thing is we couldn’t stop it!” Polly scoffed behind you, so at least you felt like someone was on your side. After a few moments of silence, your anger got the better of you and you slammed a hand down on the table in a very Tommy manner, “So what did you three fucking geniuses come up with?” Tommy pointed at you menacingly, “You fucking watch your mouth. You may be sixteen but I will still wash your mouth out with soap if you don’t mind that tongue…” “Minding my tongue…” you repeated, rolling your eyes, “Fine. So, what’s the plan? Arthur? John? Are we going back to the old ways and am I being married off to some good gypsy boy?” You turned around at Polly and laughed at your own joke, but when the room fell silent once again, you realised you’d hit the jackpot. Arthur had known you since the day you were born. He’d been twelve at the time and he could recognise every little expression on your face. Like when you were little, you used to scrunch up your nose just before you were about to cry for hunger. Or when you were sad, a small wobble in your chin just before the tears. Or when you were angry, a wrinkle in your forehead gave away the tantrum that was about to follow. This was happening right now. So he held up both hands and said, “Y/N, he’s from a good family…” “Nope,” you said, adamantly. “He is,” John confirmed gently, “and he has horses.” “Fucking no,” you shook your head. Tommy sighed, “We already made the deal.” “You promised your sister, just like that. That’s low, even coming from you, Thomas,” Polly’s cold voice sounded. If there was one person who could break his tough exterior, it was his aunt, “Well, what the fuck should we have done, Pol? Let her run wild, like you, eh?” But you stood up and walked over to Tommy. This was the man who had raised you, cared for you and disciplined you most of all, but right now, none of it mattered. So you slapped him hard, once. “Undo it Tommy,” you hissed, “Undo it or I’ll fucking cut you.” In the background you could hear Arthur mumble at once, “Okay, we’ll undo it…” “Give me one good reason,” your brother’s face, now only inches away, remained emotionless. You sighed and decided to throw all caution to the wind. “Anna,” you said, calmly. “What?” John asked immediately. So you repeated, voice raised, “Anna!” Three frowning brother stared at you, not understanding at all. “Remember when you asked me what hisname was, last week?” you called out exasperated. “’John’, wasn’t it?” Arthur looked at you. “No, it wasn’t fucking ‘John’, Arthur, she just said so,” John explained to his oldest brother. Tommy lit another cigarette, “What’s your point, Y/N?” You pointed at your neck where the nearly faded hickey could still be seen if you knew, “The name of the girl who gave me this is Anna.” “That would be bloody fantastic actually, because we wouldn’t have to worry anymore about a baby situation…” John squinted, “I think she’s serious…” “Oooooh fuck…” Arthur sighed, suddenly connecting the dots; “We’ve been keeping an eye on the wrong fucking people, John.” But John burst out laughing, “Didn’t see that one coming, did you, Tommy?” Slowly, your brother sat down and started smoking his second cigarette, “Pol, contact Madame Ross, tell her the wedding is off.” But Aunt Polly was having none of it, “You got us into this mess, you can fix it.” And then fear settled suddenly into the pit of your stomach. You looked at Tommy and asked softly, “Are you mad?” “Nope,” he said, head dropped down into his hands. “Disappointed?” “No, I’m not disappointed. But you should’ve told us, eh?” You shrugged, “Didn’t think you’d… approve.” “Why?” John asked, “We don’t care that you like women.” And all the love you had in you went out to your brother in that very moment. “Y/N,” Arthur started and he looked so angry that uncertainty took over again, “Why the fuck did you not tell us before we… explained?” “Because it was hilarious,” Polly commented unhelpfully. John started giggling again, “Fucking unnecessary is what it was.” “Arthur?” you asked, fear seeping into your voice. He sighed deeply, fidgeting with his hat, “It’s not the women, Y/N, I don’t care about that. It’s you and… anyone really. I don’t like the idea of you with anyone. Remember when she used to play with the coals, remember John?” “Yeah, I remember,” John smiled. “Black like the night she’d be!” Arthur remembered out loud, “Sweet and innocent.” “Well, she’s not anymore,” Polly sipped her tea. “I fucking see that and I don’t like it,” you eldest brother’s smile faded quickly. “Right,” Tommy raised his head again, “Guess we need to change our approach.” “There really no need…” you started. But he continued, ignoring you, “So you like girls, eh?” “Yep,” you confirmed meekly. “Only girls?” You nodded, “Well, one in particular.” Arthur looked at Tommy like he would have all the answers, “Now what, Tom?” You could now start to see the humour in all of it. Your brothers’ faces were an absolute picture! John could hardly contain his laughter, Tommy looked like he had the weight of the world on his shoulders and Arthur was filled with the absolute dread at another conversation like the one you had last week. “Oh, come on!” John called out, “I’m sure we could offer some advice!” He winked at you and a smile spread across your face. “Yeah!” you said, “I mean you all like women, right? This should be even easier!” “It’s not,” Arthur muttered. “I like women,” John said to no one in particular. “What about you, Tommy?” you asked your brother sweetly. But he just rolled his eyes and continued smoking. A part of you wanted to joke about him and Alfie, but you decided against it at the last second. “Horses?” you ventured, “Tommy, any advice on this with the famous analogy of horses? “Horses don’t really…” he waved a hand, coughed and stopped talking all together. “Well, at least you don’t have to be afraid of her getting pregnant,” John said to Arthur, who was as white as a sheet now. “That’s right,” he replied in a low voice, “but that’s my entire speech out the window, because there’s no waiting ‘till bloody marriage either…” “Well,” you tried to comfort your older brother, “You did offer me some good advice the last time, Arthur. You said there was no hurry and to not do it unless I wanted to?” “Right! I did say that. That, yes, it still stands!” Arthur looked around the kitchen triumphantly. “And John,” you continued, “you said to not put anything in my mouth unless I wanted to. Sound advice that was, now more than ever!” “Fucking hell,” Arthur crumbled again, “I can’t do this again. Tom, say something.” “Women….” Tommy started off vaguely waving his cigarette around, “they want love.” “We do.” “And they always want to take things slow.” “Can you imagine?” John interrupted, “Two women together? Must take ages…” “You’d be surprised…” you started, but when you saw your other brothers’ faces, you shut your mouth quickly. Tommy glared daggers at his brother and then turned to you, “How did you become an expert all of a sudden, eh?” “Talked to Ada,” you shrugged. “You talked to Ada…” he repeated lowly and threw his head back. “Wait,” John said suddenly, “Is this why you hate wearing dresses?” “Or why you drink whiskey like a man?” Arthur added, carefully. “That’s just because she’s a Shelby,” Polly explained matter-of-factly. “Or why you never sit on chairs?” John continued, “Or hang out at the factory all the time! Or why you always talk about votes for women…” You held up a hand to stop your brother, “None of that has anything to do with me liking women, John. That’s just… me.” “So what does have to do with you liking women?” your other brother asked in his typical low voice. “Me liking women…?” “So how does it work exactly?” John furrowed his brows, “Like, without… a man there?” “John,” Arthur warned him with a grumble. “Well, both people are enjoying themselves, for starters…” you replied in earnest. “Fucking hell,” the eldest interrupted, “She’s turning into Ada, she bloody is.” “Have you never seen two women together, Arthur?” you asked innocently, “Not even in London?” “They’re all mad bastards down in London, Y/N, the things I’ve seen there…” “Well, imagine me now.” Tommy had just taken a sip of his whiskey and practically choked on the spot, “That’s fucking it. You’re not to go near the BSA again!” “Why?” you called out, “It’s not like all the women in the world are gathered at the BSA!” “I will not have you behaving,” he struggled to find the words but finally spit, “like those fucking women in London!” “Don’t worry, Tommy,” you tried to comfort him, “I’m still… we haven’t actually…” “Oh, thank God,” Arthur sank down in his chair. “Well, when you do, just be gentle, alright?” John offered some advice, “And light a candle! Women love candles.” “Candles, check,” you noted. Tommy downed his whiskey, recomposed himself and added, “And make sure they’re in the mood first…” “To get ‘happy’,” you said, “like Arthur said last time,” “Yes,” he sighed deeply.
“Cut your nails,” John said out of the blue, “Esme told me.”
Arthur turned to his brother, “What the bloody hell do nails have to do with anything?”
“Well, it’s for when you…”
But Tommy silenced you with a gesture, “Please, Y/N, don’t.”
“Right,” and the quiet returned in the small kitchen. Well, at least now they knew, so that terrifying bit was out of the way. Apart from that, you weren’t quite sure if this was going great, because your brothers seemed absolutely petrified and slightly annoyed at your sudden revelation. Maybe it would’ve been better if you hadn’t told them. Then again, marrying a ‘good gypsy boy’ was the last thing you wanted in life. So maybe you could lighten the mood just a little.
“I have a better idea,” a sudden glint came into your eyes, “How about I offer all of you some advice!” The tables had turned already and this couldn’t possibly get any more awkward.
“Nope,” Arthur stood up and promptly marched out of the kitchen, talking to himself, “I can’t. That’s my baby sister and I just fucking can’t...”
“Arthur, where are you going?” Polly called after him, mirth clearly audible in her voice. And he replied, “I’m going to find this Anna, make sure she’s from a good family…” And then he was gone.
Tommy looked from you to Polly for a few seconds before he cleared his throat and mumbled something about business. Polly smirked at you and his face was full of annoyance at it all, “I need to get back to Dangerous. The horse. Tell me some other time, eh?”
“Tommy,” you asked carefully, “Are you sure you’re not mad about me liking women?”
“Princess, I honestly don’t give a fuck who you like,” he said, while putting on his coat and hat, “I just want to meet this Anna and if she hurts you, I’ll still kill her. None of that has changed, eh?”
This was strangely comforting to you.
And just as you were about to offer some unwanted advice, he left the kitchen in a hurry and called over his shoulder, “If you have any questions, Ada apparently has all the fucking answers!”
So you turned to your aunt, “That went well, didn’t it?”
“At least the wedding’s off.”
“Thank fuck,” you smirked and Polly smiled at you encouragingly, “You don’t mind, Aunt Pol, do you?”
“I’m with Tommy,” she said returning to her stern voice, “The fact that it’s a woman won’t make me hesitate.”
“Right,” you nodded, “She makes me happy, though.”
“Good,” Aunt Polly continued to read the newspaper, “Bring her over for tea. Let’s make the boys really uncomfortable, shall we?”
Still laughing, you stood up with the intention of getting on with your homework, when you suddenly noticed John was still sitting on the chair in the back of the kitchen.
“What do you want?” you asked him bluntly.
“I’m waiting,” he said, hands upturned, “You promised me some advice, remember?”
***
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