#I'm not going to say any of them are 'good' endings because that could be misinterpreted to mean a happy ending

[cybersunnie]

18+ / MDNI handjob; fingering; college!art; f!reader (wc 871) art's kinda sorta subby in this? with ART DONALDSON

Deep down, Art had an insatiable craving to be someone's—selfishly, thoughtlessly theirs. 

He never cared much for it before. Maybe it was because he had Patrick. Tashi, too. But now he felt like an outsider looking in as they slipped from his grasp, losing both of them to each other. And Art had pitifully and not-so-subtly attempted to plant seeds of doubt in their minds about one another, but it did him no favors. (So far, anyway.)

But if neither wanted him, then so be it. You did.

The first time he visited Tashi during her practice hours, you almost took his head off with a tennis ball. Not on purpose, of course, but you certainly caught his attention. Since then, Art had you wrapped around his finger, and you had your name wrapped around his throat. A symbiotic relationship. Two people who wanted to feel needed. Perhaps him more than you. And while he didn't find it nearly as fulfilling, it was enough. 

Routinely, long days of practice often ended with your hand wrapped around his cock. He'd offer to walk you back to your dorm, you'd agree, and before Art could blink, you were pulling him into your room and smashing your lips into his. Tennis duffel bags dropped to the ground, feet stumbling as you fall back on your mattress, bringing him down with you.

You reminded him of Patrick and Tashi in that way. You were greedy and hungry. Fiery and impulsive.

He fucking loved it.

Sat side by side and relaxed against the wall, your hand worked its way into his shorts, and Art followed suit, long fingers drifting along your cotton panties, the fabric clinging to your already weeping cunt. The kisses grew messy, licking into the other's mouth, the addictive taste of his sighs and whimpers on your tongue.

You knew how to take care of him.

The edges of his brain melted when you freed his cock, thumb swiping over his leaking tip before you started to pump him slowly. Torturously slow.

"Is this okay?" you asked, voice low and velvety. You already knew the answer.

He nodded, blond curls falling over his forehead. You brushed them back. "More than okay," Art whispered, his eyes half-lidded.

You grinned as you spoke, "Good."

Unlike his friends, you were gentle. Patient, too. In your arms, Art unfolded, his body melting into yours. And he loved watching you melt like he did, your eyes fluttering and lips parting as he rubbed your clit in smooth, deliberate circles. In return, you stroked his cock faster while your other hand combed through his hair, lightly tugging the strands and making his head loll back. Minutes had gone by with no words spoken, only faint moans that sounded like Don't go, and kisses that felt like Please, stay.

"Y'know, you've been so worked up lately," you murmured, tearing him from his hazy thoughts. Art swallowed hard, Adam's apple bobbing, his cheeks and ears flushed a Stanford red. "I guess your big cock just needed some attention, huh?"

There was fire running through his veins. "Say that again. Please."

"What? That you have a big cock?" You took the quiet whine emitting from his throat as confirmation. "Well, you do. You have such a big, pretty cock, Art."

"Oh, fuck," he whimpered, chest shuddering. "'M so close."

You raised a brow, the smile on your face turning a little smug. "Already?"

Art wanted to shrink away into his shirt, but he resorted to burying his face into the crook of your neck. It didn't ever take him long. Not at all. He knew that. You knew that—hell, even Patrick and Tashi knew that. But the fact seemed to never get any less amusing to you.

"Baby," you laughed, sweet and a little mean. "We barely started."

"I know, I'm sorry."

With the hand planted in his hair, you pulled him from the refuge he sought in your neck. You found him with a look of defeat, his eyes glassy from the pleasure, embarrassment, or both. That made you soften up.

"Hey, I was just teasing." You smoothed a hand over his cheek, skin warm beneath your touch. He leaned into your palm, his brows drawing together and breath hitching when you started stroking his cock faster. "C'mon, baby, cum for me—that's it."

He tried to fight it off, wanting the chase for pleasure to last a bit longer, but there was no use. Art was at your mercy, whether he liked it or not, and his hips bucked up into your hand. You felt his cock twitch, you heard the pathetic whimpers he failed to keep in, and suddenly there was a mess on your hand and his thighs.

"Good boy," you cooed as he eased down from his high.

Art could only watch, gaze glued on your face, his eyes glittering with ecstasy and awe. You were something beautiful but annihilating, much like the moon. And he was yours. Selfishly, thoughtlessly yours. At least, in this sense and this moment, he was. 

But, as you said earlier, you two barely started. So Art, like always, returned the favor, his middle and ring finger buried deep in your pussy.

author's note: my two recurring thoughts while writing were: how tf do you write subby men?? and do ppl actually say shit like this??? also, i only watched challengers once, so apologies if my characterization of art is a little off </3

UNEDITED — 05.09.2024

#art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson smut #art donaldson fic #challengers #challengers smut #mike faist #✶ — sunnie writes misc! #✶ — art donaldson

[rimunagenius]

It’s Time You Switch

ʚ pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader

ʚ word count: 4.4k words

ʚ prompt: “Fuck your boyfriend, he a bitch. I think it’s time you switch.”

ʚ warnings: RPF!! , smut!!, voyeurism, dirty talk?, face riding, fingering, oral reader!receiving, basically porn with little plot

ʚ rimunagenius speaks: in which Paige turns straight girls ;) i have not written smut since my wattpad era so im sooo insanely rusty but i also have never felt the touch of a woman romantically sooo idek if this will be any good…suggestions are welcome to make it better!! and for future works!!

| Masterlist | Women’s Basketball Masterlist |

"I don't know what I did to him, though. That's what I can't let go. He's being so dry and cold." You told the team as you did dynamic warm up before practice started.

Coach G just shook his head, listening to all your guy problems. This was just another boy for him to hate on campus. At this rate, the whole male and female population at UConn was on his shit list.

"I say, you dump him." KK said, patting your back mid walking lunge. "He's been doing this for months now, it's time to drop him, girl boo.” You told KK a lot of things. She was just a freshman but she become a quick and good friend.

You met her in a class you had been taking and started talking, soon finding out you were both on the same team. It shocked her, but after finding out you stayed off social media, the press release of her committing was new news. You were a senior and she was a freshman, but this friendship was like you two knew eachother forever.

"Yeah, I agree with K." Paige said, from the other side of you. A soft, comforting smile on her face.

"You know what could fix this? A girls night." Aaliyah smiled, her eyebrows wiggling suggesting you guys go out.

"I know you're not planning to go out, get drunk on the night before a game." Coach yelled from his seat on the bench.

"But Coach, c'mon! My girls feeling sad." Paige feigned a pout, grabbing your shoulders and pointing your face, you pouting your lips and batting your lashes.

"Nah, it's okay. I don't really want to go out anyways. Staying in is the move." You sighed, the stretching finished.

You talked about it all practice—sad about it all practice. After, Paige suggested you come over to her place, a sleepover. You begrudgingly agreed. Telling her she needed to take you home to get some clothes; Paige shutting it down because you could borrow hers.

That was the first mistake. It didn't feel like a mistake in the end but that was the first step to a very confusing day afterwards. The second, sharing a bed with the blonde.

You both decided to lay in her bed, get fat on snacks, and watch all the movies you could before getting sleepy and tapping out for the night. I guess Paige had another tapping in mind.

"You know he doesn't deserve you so why do you stay with him?" Paige disregarded the movie, turning her head slightly to look at you.

"He does deserve me, he's just struggling, I guess." You shrugged your shoulders, dwelling on the fact that you couldn't figure out what he was actually struggling with.

"Fuck your boyfriend. He's a bitch for the way he's acting with a pretty girl like you." Paige got passionate about defending her friends. Especially when someone in their life wasn't treating them right. She was more of a protector. A fierce one.

"Paige, that's a little mean."

"It's true. It's time you switched. I'm telling you, girls are so much less complicated. They're easier to read and better at communicating." Paige smirked to you, knowing you wouldn't shoot for it.

"Please, if I knew how, I would." You rolled your eyes, looking down, shoving a potato chip in your mouth.

Paige's eyes went wide. There's no way you were actually serious. You looked like the straightest of straight girls, a very attractive one. Which is why she thought it sucked you didn't swing that way. "No way, are you serious?" She laughed.

"Yeah, but I dont even think I like girls like that." You furrowed your brows. You never actually thought about it. You had no idea if the "girl crushes" you had were actually crushes.

"What does that mean?"

"Like, I've seen girls and thought they were super attractive. I'd wonder what it'd be like to kiss them, and I used to say i’d treat them better than their actual boyfriends, but I didn't think that far." That set it off for Paige. That's how it started. First you thought about what it'd be like to kiss a girl, then to date, and then to fuck.

"Have you ever thought about dating them?" Paige already knew where this was going.

"Yeah sort of. But I was always with him that it was whatever." You looked to Paige.

"Well it's time you switch." She smiled smugly at you, shrugging her shoulders. "I'm down to show you how." That was the most forward Paige had ever been with a girl. She knew it was swaying you, the contemplation clouding your vision, deep in thought.

"What do you mean 'show me'? Like how to fuck?" Your brows furrowed as you questioned the blonde beside you.

"That's exactly what I mean..." Paige's eyes watched yours, waiting for the green light.

"Okay." Suddenly the air in your lungs disappeared when Paige grabbed your face and kissed you deeply. She wanted this for so long. You and her had been bestfriends all throughout your childhood. She had even told Geno he couldn't give her an offer without giving you one. Your skills in basketball were exceptional, your work ethic and athleticism and ability to work with people around you. You and Paige made a great team.

She had admired everything about you for as long as she could remember. She was just waiting on you. You moaned into the kiss, opening your legs so she could slot her body between yours, achieving the best angle to kiss you.

Something in you felt like this was all muscle memory. Like you two have done this before. Her hands moved to your hips, her grip firm but so soft. You two kicking the snacks off the bed, not caring about the mess that was to be made.

"Imma take your clothes off...that okay?" Paige's lips trailed down the collumn of your neck, moaning at the sensation your body sparked throughout her body.

"Yeah, okay. Please." Instantaneously Paige's fingers dropped the the waistband of your pajama shorts, and the waistband of your underwear. The feeling of lace pulling a groan from the blondes throat. Ridding you of your pants and underwear, her hand grabbed the hem of your shirt—her shirt, sliding it up.

You sat up, pulling it off, panting softly. You couldn't believe this was happening. The least you expected from this sleepover was hooking up with your bestfriend, in her bed, on a friday night. You then grabbed Paige's face, needing her lips on yours like you were a woman starved.

Paige was a sweetheart; a golden retriever, kind, and good person...but when it came to her game, on and off the court, she was literally a cocky fuck boy who could prove they could get into your pants. She was a respectful woman, one of the best even, but the second mutual interest was involved; game over.

While making out, her hand cupping your breast over the padding of your bra, the only clothing you seemed to have on left, she bit your bottom lip, slightly tugging on it with her teeth. Your back arched, moaning at the sensation she was able to wash your body in, she quickly unclasped your bra, sliding the straps off when you were flat on your back.

Having the soft skin of yours exposed, she slowed her movements, dodging your face when you tried to kiss her again. "Show me how he got you off." The sentence shocked you.

"Huh?" You looked at her, her eyes having the same challenging look. She knew she'd do ten times better than he ever could. Plus, it helped that her anatomy and your anatomy were the same...meaning, she knew where everything was.

"You heard me, show me what he did for you, so I can show you that I can do it better." Her long hair falling on her shoulders, she slid her Huskies t-shirt off, leaving her in a black sports bra.

You shifted on the bed, nervous but willing. She already had you naked, you were already so wet so you knew when you try and fail to get yourself off like how your ex did, she'd make it better. Paige always made it better.

You reached your hand down, sliding your fingers through your soaking wet cunt, gathering as much as your slick as possible, gasping softly. The feeling of your fingers ghosting your clit, you remembered that you were supposed to be doing this how he did, so you disregarded the spot your body ached and pleaded for physical contact, and jumped straight to inserting two fingers.

You looked at Paige, a look in her eyes you've never seen before. "Wait, he didn't even—?" She was confused but really focused nonetheless. You knew she wasn't really paying attention to what you were doing, she was; she was literally getting soaked at watching you play with yourself, but she just couldn't take her eyes off your pretty pussy. She would never be your 'friend' again after tonight.

You shook your head at her question and continued in fingering your self, curling your fingers at the right spots, maintaining the even yet somewhat hasty pace. Your panting started to get louder, your eyes fluttering closed every now and again. Slowly coaxing yourself to your high, you spread your legs wider, reaching your hand out, signaling Paige you wanted her to grab your hand.

She placed her hand in yours and she was immediately pulled on top of you, your mouth finding hers. Your hand never wavered in the work you were doing on yourself, which is why Paige swallowed the loud moan induced by your orgasm, as you slowly started to slow the rhythm of your fingers, riding out the small orgasm.

You don't know why you did it, you only were conscious of it after you had placed the fingers that were previously inside of you, into her mouth. Your jaw slack, jus a tiny bit, watching and feeling her lick your fingers, swallowing any trace of your she can hope to find. You couldn’t believe you were behaving like this. So dirty but so willing.

Paige moaned at the action, not trying to deny that what you had done could've made her come alone. She started to drag her lips from yours, to the corner of your lips, to your cheek, all the way to and down your neck, sloppy and lazy but sensual kisses were left in her wake.

She wouldn't dare leave any marks behind, your guys' team would calculate what went down her tonight. So she settled for non-visible hickeys. When her lips met your breasts, she took her sweet time with both. Her tongue swirling around your taught nipple, her free hand kneeding the other.

Your back was already arching off the bed, hands tugging at the sheets below you. The soft cries leaving your lips egging her on.

She moved across the other breast, a trail of purple and red trailing the way, her hand switched places. You couldn't take this...you needed her somewhere else. You loved this but holy was she dragging it out.

Before you could even ask—beg, her to move where you were so desperately wanting her, her hand was already spreading your leg open, lips following a foreign, yet so familiar path, all the way down to the curve of your thighs.

She started slowly, opting to tease you, but also educate you like she promised. You understood the significance of foreplay, hell you craved it in your evidently clear soon to be previous relationship, but you couldn't take the ache your pussy had for Paige. It's like it knew you needed her all along. It didn't help that you hated the prolonged attention, but also loved it. Watching her worship your body was something so unexplainably attractive.

The way she slowly placed soft kisses from your knees, massaging the soft skin of your calf's along the way, all the way up your thigh. The closer her lips got to your center, the more antsy you became. You needed her mouth to connect already. You couldn't take it anymore.

"Oh, my god. Paige...please." You sighed, your panting growing more and more viscous.

"Please what, gorgeous?" Her lips ghosted over your wet folds as she moved to the other leg, now blatantly teasing the fuck out of you, while she smiled and kissed every expanse she could.

"Please just eat my pussy already. I can't take it." You almost cried begging her to finally do something. She had you masturbate infront of her for christ sake.

"Whatever you want." She looked into your eyes, her pupils blown, a blissed out smile and haze on her face. Almost immediately after, her face disappeared in between your legs. Paige licked a stripe up your soaking cunt, from the entrance all the way to the most sensitive nerve ending.

The sound that escaped your mouth was borderline pornographic as the built up arousal finally was being tended to. The feeling of her slick tongue running one more stripe through your folds before swirling around your clit was something you absolutely could not imagine. Your mind in a foggy mess.

"You taste so sweet, baby." The name leaving her mouth ignited fuzziness that you felt in your toes all the way to your scalp. Her voice hoarse, mouth glistening from you, you could never get this sight out of your head; nor did you want to.

"Ohhhh, my god." It came out like a pure cry. The choked moans mixed with tears and strained sobs, elicited a newfound hunger in Paige.

Her mouth doing double time, her tongue swirling and licking perfectly paced, her lips sucking and kissing all the right places at the right time, started to build up the coil in your belly. The feeling growing more and more intense the more she praised you from between your legs. "You're doing so good for me, baby." You couldn't even breathe.

The coil snapping, the tension in your belly now releasing, a gushing mess now painted Paige's gorgeous face, your mouth agape.

You couldn't help but scream...almost. Your moan so loud, Paige covered your mouth with her hand. "Shh, don't want the neighbors to hear." Paige panted softly in your ear, before cracking the signature smirk.

The smugness she had while she saw the aftermath of what seemed to be the best orgasm you have ever had in your life. Your breathing still shallow, your chest heaving, the pattern of the way it rises and falls mesmerizes Paige. Her ego being fed tremendously watching the way you fell apart just by her going down on you.

She couldn't help but want to brag to your ex that he couldn't even make you feel half of what she just did. The accomplishment of getting you to look like this in her bed, your breath fanning over her face as she hovered over you, the accomplishment in having you like this, with her in her bed, was truly a miracle.

Paige loved it. She could go this whole night just fulfilling your needs, showing you everything you missed out on in your pointless one sided relationship. She intended to.

"Oh, my god. That was—" You stopped, your breath finally returning. "That was fucking amazing." You looked at the blonde who seemed to be content watching you fall apart.

The smugness on her face but the adoration of you being here, pure evidence that she was enjoying every second of it. "It was. Didn't know you were a screamer." The cocky Paige returned, forgetting keeping the moment remotely intimate. You smacked her arm that rested next to your body, and grabbed her face and kissed her.

You caught her off guard, her mouth open due to a small gasp, and took that as your chance to slide your tongue in her mouth. You two made out like horny teenagers. You two weren't that far from being teenagers, that was only a couple years ago, but you two made eachother feel like two young kids, absolutely enamored with the idea of each other that you couldn't get off of eachother.

You two made out, you slowly turning yourself so you could be on top. Paige knew what you were trying to do, allowing you to take control for now. You oulled apart, looking down at her, picturing this, saving it for the foreseeable future. Chasing your lips, Paige grabbed your face, pulling you into a deepening kiss. You two literally couldn't get enough of eachother.

Before you could even get the rest of Paige's clothes off, she grabbed your hips that were resting on hers, and pulled them forcefully over towards her chest. You gasped and yelped, suprised at the sudden force she was using. Hesitant to follow, you saw her hungry gaze go between your eyes and your now—again, soaking cunt.

There was no way. "Paige, no. Don't even think about it." You warned, a small intimidating look. It normally had an affect on Paige on the court, knowing when she saw it, you talked a big game and backed it up. But right now, in the bedroom, you were hers and she had the control.

Tonight was to show you what you were missing out on, and how to get a girl going. There was no way she'd let you have the control, no matter how much she wanted it. She'd save that for another night. Maybe she was getting too ahead of herself, but there was going to be another night with you.

"What are you talking about?" The smugness returned, along with a feigned clueless look. You couldn't take her serious with the fact that your thighs were damn near putting her in a chokehold, her hands inching you closer and closer to where she wanted you...where she wanted you to sit, preferably.

"Paige, i'm not about to sit on your face." You tried scooting back, forgetting that Paige was actually stronger than you. The ferocity in which she pulled your hips, your pussy ghosting her lips at the force and aim in which she yanked you, a small gasp escaped your sealed lips.

You yanked your hips back, giving her a pointed look. "I was trying to literally fuck you, not trying to sit on your face. Let me make you feel good, baby." Paige knew she could get away with calling you baby, you probably weren't thinking much of it when she said it. But Paige said it with conviction, just the way you did right now.

The name only egged her on when you used it in this context. The only context Paige wanted to hear it in. "Your making me feel good by letting me make you feel good. I promise i'm fine, I just want you to sit this pretty pussy on my face. Will you let me?" Her eyes sincere, the smirk playing on her lips slowly convincing you by the second.

"You promise?" You whispered, suddenly conforming to the blonde underneath you. Something about the way she talked easily convinced you.

"Yeah. Promise." You stared down at her, unsure. Not wanting to crush her, your thighs being pretty full, the muscle you've built over the years, and just the general size being something you've been insecure about since you were a little girl.  She knew that.

That's why when she saw the look on your face, she kissed your thighs. In whatever spot she could reach. She gave you a reassuring nod, smile on her face. Albeit you didn't know what kind—cocky or comforting. Either way, when she said what she did, you immediately obeyed.

"Sit on my face." You then moved both knees eye level with Paige, falling back slightly, your pussy ghosting her lips again. The second you put your full weight on her face, her mouth got to work.

The sensation and new angle elicited some explicit sounds. 'Didn't know you were a screamer' kept replaying in your head when you tried to quiet down the moans only Piage seemed to be able to pull from you, escaped your lips.

Her hands cupped your ass, pressing your body down impossibly closer and harder into her face. She seemed to be pushing so hard, you were scared you were going to suffocate her. Her tongue teased your entrance, swiftly ghosting in and out of it, before lapping at your folds and clit perfectly.

She ate you like a woman starved. Like if this was her last meal. You had enjoyed every second of this exchange. You reached your hand down slowly, softly moving your hand in slow circles on your clit, overstimulating yourself.

Paige took notice of your fingers now getting to work, a gravely groan reverberating into your wet pussy as she looked up at you, and quickly closing her eyes in bliss. She decided that since you wanted to touch yourself, she'd slide a finger or two into you. To really get you going. Wasn’t the most ideal positioning but she was going to make it work.

Her head bobbed subtly, effectively getting her tongue into the small space where her fingers were about to make an appearance. Inserting one finger, Paige watched, felt, and listened to the way your body reacted to her movements.

Using each reaction to her advantage. The small gasp you let out when she inserted herself into you, the way your breathing reluctantly changed pace, so she inserted another, noticing how your breath picked up. That's when she curled her fingers methodically to the pace she set for herself, matching the pace you set while you continued rubbing circles in your clit.

It didn't take long for Paige to brung you closer to the edge while her tongue picked up the slack for your fingers. You stopped your movements and let her do the work, she could tell it was good by the volume your pants and moans were sounding. She was working overtime while you ran your hand over her hair, eventually looking for another anchor to grip to while you violently come undone by your best friend. "Oh, my god. Right there. Don't stop." You panted, your jaw dropped.

Your legs started to shake, Paige's pace relentless while she finger fucked you in her bed, while she simultaneously ate you out. This wasn't the way you expected to spend your night, and neither did Paige, but holy fuck was it worth it.

"Don't you dare stop—Oh!" The coil snapped once again, a guttural cry and moan left your lips. You swore that any person who was passing by Paige's apartment would've thought you were filming porn. The moans you moaned were insane and absolutely the biggest turn on for Paige. She wouldn't lie and say she didn't already get off on just hearing you.

Yeah, she worked at you, and saw your oh so pretty parts, but listening to the affect she had on you, the comparison made between her and your ex and the ego boost that came with it, were just the perfect amount to get her off on just pleasuring you for the last two hours.

Your breath uneven, slowly moving your legs away from her face, your chest still heaving. She chuckled softly, before looking over to you, while you laid yourself next to her. "That's how it's done, baby." Paige held her hand up, trying to signal a high five.

You looked at her blankly, her seeing the absolute fucked our face you had, and then pulled you closer to her. Your body resting against hers; the stark contrast of your overheated body, compared to her cold and cool body.

The contrast easing the overwhelmed feeling you harbored just a little easier. "You did so good for me, baby. You looked so hot while I made you come. Couldn't believe it." You smacked her chest, feeling a little cringed that she had to see you and all the faces you could've made while you had the most earth shattering orgasms.

"Paige. Oh my god, stop." You laughed, she did too, You two laid there for a minute before she broke the silence.

"You're not going back to him, right?" Her voice now withdrawn from the cockiness and confident undertones, and just pure nerves and concern. She hoped you'd say no. That you'd choose to stay with her, and tell her he was just there until you realized your feelings for her were the same as the ones she's had for you all these years.

"No, I'm breaking up with him tomorrow. You think i'd go back to him, when he couldn't do half the shit you did with your tongue alone? Yeah, right." You looked up at Paige, your bestfriend. You couldn't believe this is what your relationship evolved to in a matter of two hours.

"Soo, that means..." Paige was hopeful. She just wanted you to say what she's been wanting to say for years.

"Let's date. I love you, you obviously love me," She looked away, embarrassed, and playfully pushed you away. You grabbed her arm, pulling her back so she could look you in the eyes. "Do you want to be my girlfriend? Serious."

"Serious. I'll be your girlfriend. Finally." Paige kissed you, slowly. Melting into eachother, the weight of the new relationship status now sinking in. You two were ecstatic.

You decided to clean up, showering, again, her inevitably joining you. When you both settled and were ready for bed. Too tired and fucked out to continue the movie—restart the movie—you two had started a while ago, it was quiet and dark in the room when Paige suddenly whispered, "I knew you weren't straight."

"Paige, got to sleep! Oh my god." You chuckled before smacking her with the pillow under your head.

"Jeez! Sorry! But I called it."

#tumblrpost #writers on tumblr #rimunagenius speaks #women’s basketball #wbb x reader #wbb #wcbb #wcbb x reader #paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers smut #uconn wbb #uconn huskies #uconn women’s basketball #uconn x reader #uconn wbb x reader #wlw masterlist #sapphic wlw #wlw fanfic #wlw headcanons #wlw yearning #wlw smut #wlw ns/fw #wlw post #wlw blog #wlw

[a-b-riddle]

I'm just going to ask this because I need to get it out of my head. This is all in regards to your Poly141 x Reader series going on. I'm just going to recap things first.

-Price got verbally eviscerated because of all the times he got short/snapped at the reader because he came into their bookstore that they bought with their own money, put their own blood, sweat and tears into fixing up and had THE AUDACITY to call them immature for trying to break things off cleanly like a MATURE adult in a space that's RIGHTFULLY THEIRS because he couldn't be an adult admit how he shouldn't of been treating the reader like one of his men.

-Soap showing up trying to apologize and then thinking with his dick because of how the reader got dressed up for a dinner date and got a taste of his own medicine when the reader just hit it and quit it without so much as a thank you, or a goodbye kiss and basically told him to clean up, get dressed and kick rocks.

-Gaz shows up after weeks of just flaking out of any dates and just being a ghost (ironic considering Ghost's callsign) trying to talk to the reader in person when the reader had tried for months to just get a glimpse of him only to be told he couldn't right now but could another time. Then the reader just tell him, 'yeah sorry no. I don't have time for you and your mates nonsense at the moment, just swing by to get your stuff when it works for you'.

-Ghost showing up whenever the reader is in trouble and getting them away from danger only to disappear shortly afterward and give the reader radio silence. The one time that the reader tried to seek him out for just a SHRED of comfort and he just told them, 'You're only good for what's in between your legs love, you knew what you were getting into. You should've known better.'

With all this mind, I want Ghost to have everything and the kitchen sink thrown at him. I want him to be told in no kind words that his words and lack of realizing how fucked up the things he said to the reader were was the straw that broke the camel's back. I want the reader to hurl everything that they didn't say to Price to Ghost. I want him to realize in no unclear terms how if he didn't fuck up so royally and had actually attempted to give the reader a fraction of what he was being given, things would be so much better. And for some extra salt on the wound, have the reader tell him that they suppose that when it comes to his line of work, he's pretty good at breaking anything and everything he touches. It's just a shame that for anything that involves a softer touch, he winds up breaking it beyond repair.

I just love narrative/reflective irony and can't wait for the next part and wish you well for making it to the end of this ramble. 🥰

I'm throwing up.

I am so happy that y'all got it without me having to say it. YES! She is giving everything back that they gave her. John's outbursts, Johnny's lack of aftercare and Kyle's flakiness.

I will say this which I think is interesting. Simon said something hellllla shitty and unforgivable. Like it was mean and something once you say you can't take back. I will ask this and feel free to go back and re-read.

What else did Simon do? Before the phone call, what else did Simon do to reader? We know Simon wanted to hurt reader. Why? Did he plan

Spoiler below, read at own caution

Or was he just sick of being the only one out of the four guys to actually contribute to the relationship and knew he needed to be the one to drive it home that there isn't a future with them? Reader refers to Simon several times as her body guard or guard dog... But never a boyfriend or partner.

In flashbacks, we see that Simon only ever came over at night. You'll find out why in the next few chapters, but as much as I love y'all hating on Simon, I cannot WAIT for y'all to get to the why.

And remember kiddos, hurt people hurt people.

[yurinaa-world]

hii, may i send in a request for Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine and Sunday with platonic headcanons of them maybe with their child who has a severe illness? Like how would they look after them/attend to them.

Characters: Blade, Jing Yuan, Aventurine & Sunday !Platonic x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: with a reader who has a severe illness + how would they look after you

Warnings: angst to sort of comfort?, spelling mistakes,

notes: I'm sooo jetlagged rn

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒹𝑒

Death can come in seconds with a person even realizing but you do anything since it’s already too late. It’s the same in the end, you cry, give flowers since regret means more than gratitude ever could; then just leave and never look back.

Does it have to be the same? Not for you. He'll care even when no one else will, he’ll stay and listen to you cry, even if it’s a childish thing like wanting to see the world instead of being stuck in this awful room with wires attached to your body.

He visits when he can–which is when he’s not on missions–when he isn’t he stays with you most of the time, showing up with bags of gifts but what’s the use if you’re paralyzed, too tired to move yet not enough to finally sleep–at least to be free for a couple of hours of pain–So the gifts are open and sit around your room to make the room look alive.

He ends up sitting with you in silence, watching if your heart rate went up or anything that has drastically changed in your health. He holds your hand and wipes your tears since you always cry since you can barely sleep and your eyes are just so tired that you can’t anymore.

The scarce days that you can even sit up in your bed and gaze outside your window while looking at all the gift blades’ gotten you over the several months you’ve been unable to do anything. Yet now you're still weak and the quick recovery will change to worse in a couple of hours.

𝒥𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒴𝓊𝒶𝓃

He’s sentimental with you, just watching your face contort into pain as a fit of terrible coughs leaves your throat leaving it burning more than before. It was a complete never-ending nightmare for you until you finally were to be freed when you took your final breath of air.

He tries to bring an upbeat attitude to you, listening to you with contempt about whatever you may be talking about, like your dreams, goals, and wishes; maybe a chance to see life outside of this miserable room–yet deep down no one thinks you will.

He loves to bring you sweets–you can’t eat because most of the time you're bedridden–and toys–you can't play with. It's the duty of the general to make sure every citizen is safe and you mean the same to him even if you are sick–and dying.

You’re his child that's all that matters to him. The fake people's pity along with the whispers and disgusting assumptions. He hates it, he hates what they say is the truth–Since in the end, you’re the one dying, right? So what’s wrong with saying what everyone knows is going to happen.

𝒜𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑒

Everyone comes to Pencony to have fun and let their dreams become reality yet you’re the pitiful one who must be stuck in your room all day whilst Aventurine is out and about having “fun” you can't help but be a little envious of him,  yet you are love more than anything by and you’ll wait for his return as you’ve always have done.

Watching the lights from below your window along with the sounds of everyone having so much—you cut the sounds out since your body is a rotting corpse lying there.

But it’s not that bad!! Aventurine splurges on you whenever he can and wants!! Even if your room is filled with stuffed animals, util your room can’t handle all the stuffed animals, then he’ll get you a bigger room!! He just wants you to feel included in any way he can. Even playing board games with you, or even it’s patty cake.

Your dream is to be like other people. To be a “normal” kid since dreams will only ever be dreams and never be anything good for the hopeful.

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

You’re the child of the great oak family, a prized child even with ruined lungs, hoarse throat and weak rotting body, you’re still his child, the only reason he does the things he does is for your sake.

He always reads you bedtime stories no matter if it is the 100th time reading the same one or the first, your wish is his command. Even if it’s reading you a lullaby no matter how bashful and embarrassed he feels he’ll still do what ask just to see a bright smile on your face.

It’s okay, don’t cry, it's only just a couple of needles. The pain will go away in a second, you can handle it, right? That’s what he always tells you. Comforting you is the most important thing, you’re his everything, watching you cry or whimper at the face, needles, nightmares or anything else then he’ll do anything for you.

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ #honkai star rail x you #honkai blade #honkai blade x reader #blade x reader #honkai star rail #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #hsr jing yuan #star rail #aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #aventurine hsr #hsr x y/n #sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday x you

[sophieinwonderland]

Debunking Anti(-endo's)Misinfo. AKA: How are anti-endos so bad at sources????

(The original)

Oh, well good on you for trying to cover everything! Nice of anti-endos to finally start trying to use science to prove their arguments. I'm sure these sources will totally be reliable and will prove your points beyond a shadow of a doubt, and that you won't just be falling flat on your face with every single attempt at basic reading comprehension, and end up repeatedly make a complete fool of yourself.

Let's go!

Off to a pretty strong start, acknowledging that many endogenic systems don't have DID or OSDD. Sadly, that basic fact is something that seems to escape most anti-endos. So with this in mind, I think it's safe to say the goal of this post is going to be to prove...

You can't possibly have DID without trauma.

You can't possibly have OSDD without trauma.

You can't be a system without DID/OSDD.

Let's read through and see how they'll do at proving their points by the end. I promise you, the results... won't surprise you. 😉

Well, there goes that strong start.

The source here is a Carrd and so-called "common sense."

Meanwhile, in the World Health Organization's ICD-11, alters or dissociative identities are described as "distinct personality states." In the same page, it's stated that you can have multiple "distinct personality states" without a disorder.

This is information from the World Health Organization affirming that you can be plural without a disorder. And I think that prevails over your so-called "common sense."

See also these screenshots from the plurality chapter of Transgender Mental Health, a book published by the American Psychiatric Association:

Finally, I really want to put a focus on this line of logic: "you cannot have alters without having a disorder, this is common sense as it's not normal to have alters."

Normal has multiple meanings in different contexts. The ICD-11's boundary with normality uses normal to mean "non-pathological." But this post seems to be using "normal" in the lay way to mean "common."

And that makes this particular rhetoric extremely dangerous and harmful to many communities. "If it's not common, it's a mental illness," was the basis for homosexuality and being transgender being listed as mental illnesses. "Most people don't think this way, so there's something wrong with them."

This could also easily be used to pathologize Otherkin and other alterhumans as mentally ill because it's not "normal" to identify as an animal.

The modern World Health Organization and American Psychiatric Association recognize the fact that simply thinking unusually or differently isn't an illness or disorder.

Statements like yours do not exist within a vacuum, but harken back to decades past when any non-typical thinking would have you labeled as having a disorder that needed treated.

Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it.

Let's be thankful to live in a world today where our differences aren't considered disorders. And let's not resort to ideologies that threaten to return us to those days past.

Wait... who suggests this? Who are they? I think I need more info...

So... "some researchers."

Also, can we talk about how this starts off with "sometimes called multiple personality disorder." I checked to see if this was before the name changed in the ICD (which I believe was 2015) and it doesn't seem to be! Oldest archive I can find is 2020!

Rethink.org is a charity.

These are not peer-reviewed papers.

The page references "some researchers" without names or sources.

I have no idea who authored this or if they're qualified at all in this field.

This is a terrible source. A web page by an anonymous author citing other unnamed authors with no reason to think anyone who wrote this had any idea what they were talking about!

This says DID is caused by many things, and lists trauma as only one that's included. This doesn't back up the idea DID/OSDD can only be caused by trauma, and suggests the opposite.

Oh, and "it's also known as split personality disorder." 😔

Go home WebMD.

Usually associated with doesn't mean it's a requirement, and in fact implies that it isn't always.

"Is associated with." "Can be a response to trauma."

Reiterating that the first two goals here were to prove you can't have DID or OSDD without trauma. And these aren't doing that.

An association doesn't mean there's a causation, and it doesn't mean that association is there in 100% of cases.

"often develop."

Like with "usually", you wouldn't use the word often if if something always happened. The choice of wording implies you can have dissociative disorders without trauma.

Are... they messing with us right now???

I swear, you can't have a post that sets out with the goal of disproving the existence of endogenic plurality, and then use quotes that seem to consistently imply there can be other causes for DID and not pick up on that theme!

Oh, yay! We finally got a quote that's actually trying to argue the point we started with.

But, again, this runs into a similar issue to the ReThink.org one. This is a random independent organization. There is no author for this article. It hasn't undergone peer review like an academic paper would.

There is no evidence the person who wrote this article is actually educated in dissociative disorders.

And finally back to "usually."

You must be so proud...

Source Round-Up

There was a lot here, so let's just recap.

6 out of 8 of these sources only say that DID is "usually" or "often" or "can be" caused by or associated with trauma. These actually imply there are cases where it's NOT caused by trauma, going against the original goals of this post.

Finally, there were two sources, Rethink and Mind.org, which did suggest DID is just caused by trauma, full stop. But both of these are extremely questionable as sources.

Neither named their authors. There's no indication what the review process is for their websites. And "Rethink" merely said this is what "some researchers" believe.

So let's double back to those goals set at the beginning.

You can't possibly have DID without trauma: One source says this, but the reliability of that source is questionable. Another source says some researchers are saying this but doesn't name any researchers or cite those sources. Meanwhile, the other six sources imply that it IS possible for DID to exist without trauma.

You can't possibly have OSDD without trauma: Neither of the two sources that suggest DID can only be caused by trauma mention OSDD at all.

You can't be a system without DID/OSDD: None of the sources suggest you need DID/OSDD to be a system or to be plural.

So far, you've failed to prove you can't be a system without DID or OSDD. You've failed to show you can't have OSDD without trauma. And the case for DID being exclusive to trauma frankly looks weaker than before you started talking.

Incredible work so far!!!

And I mean that in the way that nothing about this is remotely credible!

Ugh. There is SO much wrong here. First, no sources for their claims about tulpamancy.

Now, tulpamancy draws its name from a Tibetan Buddhist practice called sprul pa.

This is not the same practice though. And the Tibetan Buddhist practice is NOT CALLED TULPAMANCY.

Something which should be obvious to anyone who knows even the most basic facts about language, with the -mancy suffix being derived from Latin. And tulpamancy as a practice generally isn't religious.

From Dr. Samuel Veissiere of McGill University:

The community is primarily divided between so-called psychological and metaphysical explanatory principles. In the psychological community, neuroscience (or folk neuroscience) is the explanation of choice. Tulpas are understood as mental constructs that have achieved sentience. The metaphysical explanation holds that Tulpas are agents of supernatural origins that exist outside the hosts’ minds, and who come to communicate with them. Of 118 respondents queried on the question, 76.5% identified with the psychological explanation, 8.5% with the metaphysical, and 14% with a variety of “other” explanations, such as a mixture of psychological and metaphysical.

When discussing the research into tulpamancy, we're not discussing a religious or spiritual practice that's been validated by psychologists.

We're talking about a primarily psychological practice that's been validated by psychologists.

And as for the DSM quote, it confirms that religious practices aren't a disorder. Cool. But it also implies that religious practices can result in multiple distinct personality states. Hence why they needed that criterion. It's not stated as explicitly in the DSM as in the ICD, but the implication is there, especially when taken together.

Whether you call these "alters" or not is up to you. Most endogenic systems aren't using the word "alter" to describe their headmates.

But regardless of the word, what the research is showing is that there are multiple phenomena which can result in people having multiple self-conscious agents sharing the same body.

I mean, you've still done a really bad job at showing DID and OSDD form purely from trauma, with many of your sources straight up saying the opposite.

And remember, a lot of mixed origin systems will say that their other headmates aren't caused by or related to their disorder. And there are documented cases of people with DID both having alters associated with DID, and having non-aversive entities they commune with outside of that, as Kluft references in this paper:

The woman he describes here, who experienced ceding control to another entity who talked through her, would qualify as a mixed origin system in the modern plural community.

SIX OF YOUR EIGHT SOURCES LEFT THE DOOR OPEN FOR DID TO FORM WITHOUT TRAUMA!

NONE CLAIMED OSDD COULD ONLY COME FROM TRAUMA!

NONE CLAIMED YOU NEEDED DID OR OSDD TO BE PLURAL!

Your sources are NOT claiming what you think they're claiming!!!!!!!

If this is "all the proof you need," to say endogenic systems aren't valid, it's clear you were only ever interested in confirming your worldview.

But surely you can't seriously think this will convince anyone who isn't already indoctrinated!

Not even addressing this in full. It's such a blatant strawman that it's not worth my time.

There are similarities between plurality and being LGBTQ. Especially to the many trans systems out there who are seeing anti-endos use the same rhetoric that transmeds have. Or like you did earlier, are endorsing the same types of views that led to homosexuality being pathologized until the 70s. But nobody is saying it's the exactly the same!

I'm not sure what this is specifically referring to. But it might be about the line in the differential diagnosis for DID in the PTSD section where it's stated DID may not be preceded by trauma or have co-occurring PTSD symptoms.

It does also say in another section that DID is associated with trauma, but it never actually says that's the only way to get DID.

This is a straight-up lie. Most sources used by endogenic systems are less than a decade old, with some being as recent as 2023.

Here's the breakdown of some of the dates in @guardianssystem's doc, for reference:

I mean, I feel like part of the reason nobody has been able to disprove it is because a lot of its more specific claims have been really hard to test.

But that's neither here nor there.

The bigger issue you'll run into is that the creators of the theory you're citing have stated that there may be other ways for people to be plural. Or as they phrased it, having "conscious and self-conscious dissociated parts."

The above quote is from two of the three authors of The Haunted Self, the creators of the theory of the structural dissociation.

The TOSD is made to propose a way trauma can cause dissociative disorders to develop. But it does NOT suggest you need to have dissociative disorders to be plural, and I doubt the authors appreciated their work being twisted like that

Final Grade:

F-

This started with three goals.

Let's look back at them one last time.

You can't possibly have DID without trauma.

You can't possibly have OSDD without trauma.

You can't be a system without DID/OSDD.

By the end of this, have any of these claims successfully been proven?

I don't feel they have.

The first claim is what all the sources tried to focus on. But most of the sources didn't say that and didn't support it. All but two implied that DID could possibly form other ways.

And for the others? Nothing suggests OSDD can only be caused by trauma.

And you failed to provide any sources that suggested you couldn't be plural without DID and OSDD.

You completely and utterly failed to find decent sources to back up your claims, and to make a compelling case for them, at every conceivable juncture.

If I were you, I would be embarrassed to have put out something of such poor quality.

What have we learned:

Non-disordered and endogenic plurality has been supported and validated across the psychological field, including the World Health Organization's ICD-11 and Trasngender Mental Health which has been reviewed and published by the American Psychiatric Association.

The creators of the theory of structural dissociation believe it might be possible that "self-conscious dissociative parts of the personality" might form without trauma and that this needs to be further researched.

Tulpamancy is a mostly psychological practice that has been studied and validated by psychologists.

Anti-endos are really bad at sources.

Conversely, the majority of endogenic sources are actual peer reviewed academic papers. And contrary to false claims here, many of the papers are actually very recent.

(Tagging some tags from the original post)

#syscourse #pro endogenic #pro endo #anti endogenic #anti endo #did #did osdd #osddid #osdd #sysblr #plural #plurality #multiplicity #endogenic #systems #system #actually plural #actually a system #psychiatry #psychology #(Tagging some of these tags from the original post)

[mattluvsmarni]

Fishing

Matt sturniolo x reader

warnings & a/n: suggestive(??), cursing. I don’t think there’s any warnings really just something short and sweet💗

Matt chuckles at your sour face as he holds his hand out waiting for you to take it. "Come on it will be a good experience, this one was your idea anyways." 

you hate the noise your every step causes, but you're just relieved to finally be under shade.

You and Matt had created a bucket list during the summer and it was your pick to do one thing the other has never done before. So when Matt found out you've never been fishing before. He decided to take matters into his own hands and to teach you how to fish.

"OW" he yelped, that's when you noticed you went from gripping just the material of his shirt to digging your nails into his skin out of fear. "i've got you, you can chill''

"sorry" you say, smoothing your hand down the spot.

"isn't this where leeches and things like that are" you ask as you carefully start to scan the trail with your eyes.

"yeah..." he stops, pulling you back. "Wait I think..." he trails off staring into a spot, pretending he's seen something.

"Quit fooling around and take us where we need to go" you insist, tugging on his arm to move him.

-

After Matt's assured you that he's 99% sure leeches or any of these little bugs wouldn't get into your things, you start to set them down.

"WAIT I GOT ONE" he exclaims, hooking and reeling it back quickly 

He looks back to see if you’re watching from your squatted position only to lose it just as quickly "fuckk" he huffs out clicking his tounge “I almost had it too”

You break out into a fit of laughter at his genuine disappointment. He had the goal of catching 5 to the thought of just 1 being a maybe.

he acts out a walk of shame towards you

“no i saw it, don't worry” you try to encourage even if you can’t help the small laughs you let out. 

“Hahah funny” his voice monotone, but his face deceives him because it’s evident that he’s holding back the biggest smile

“Okay let’s see what you’ve got” he says motioning you to go over to him 

“Hopefully a lot better than whatever’s got you” you remark, as you walk towards him

Chuckling, he hooks an arm around your waist pulling you closer. 

“You’re gonna press this button as you pull it back” he steps aside to demonstrate. “And let it go as soon as it hits the water, alright?”

“Okay I think I’ve got” you say, but more so to yourself. Mirroring his exact actions, you press the button, pull the rod back, and pull it down towards the water. 

"nice cast!" he says, his face beaming. Your just as surprised that it actually landed instead of it getting stuck in your hair when you pulled back 

“Now reel it in” he reaches in beneath your arms and positions your hands correctly. “Nice and steady” he instructs, you can feel his hot breath on your neck brushing his fingers over yours as he hold them in place

“A little more speed so we don’t get hung up at the bottom” he leans in closer towards you as you subconsciously, but slightly tilt your head back. “But slow enough so that a fish can catch on.” His body is pressed directly behind your own, his leg in between yours for balance and you can feel your heart beating faster

You liked the way he made you feel, like you could do anything. Things you’ve never thought of doing and still end up enjoying it.

“Good girl, you’re already a natural” he whispers in your ear and you smiled as you took your bottom lip between your teeth

“You think so?” You ask looking up at him

“I know so” he’s smirking, until something starts tugging on the rod

"OKAY LOOK I think we got it!””look!” He says, practically shouting at you

"i'm looking!” You shout back 

He places his hand on yours helping you reel it back. You’d think this was a whale by how hard it is to pull it out 

"yeahh" you say smiling wide as you finally see the medium sized fish that fell for the bait 

He unhooks the fish from the rod "oh my god a long time coming fish" 

"can i hold him" 

"yeah here" pulling it off his finger for it to latch onto yours 

"im holding it, im holding it" you say, giggling, as you hold the fish inches away from yourself.

He laughs finding your excitement amusing 

“Nice” he praises, taking it to throw it back into the water

You go to squat next to him as you both watch it swim away.

#matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reade #Sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo

[sansaorgana]

Gale Cleven post! war with a classmate! Reader of his when he goes back to college? And what their relationship would be like if you could :) good luck with school!

thank you, love! I know you sent it around that time I was working on my thesis but now when I'm posting this... I'm so behind the uni work, it's almost funny 🤡 anyway, thank you for your request as well, because it was very interesting and something fresh and new 👨🏻‍🎓 I enjoyed writing it and it turned out to be quite long for a "short story" lol

I had to currently close the requests because I got so many so I'm working on them atm 🙏🏻

There was a new boy on the campus – well, a man, really. He was older than most students and some confused him with one of the lecturers. You went to one of the classes with him and sometimes you found yourself staring when he was not looking but you were not the only one to do so.

He was handsome – very handsome, you’d say. And his eyes were a beautiful shade of blue while his hair was blond and neatly combed with a reckless strand sometimes falling down on his forehead while he was taking notes. His name was Gale Cleven and he was mysterious. He didn’t talk about himself much and he was not very social in general. You couldn’t recall a time when you would spot him having a chat with anyone. His cheeks had small, thin cuts all over them and you wondered where they had been from. Could they be the reason for his mysterious behaviour? Or maybe they were a part of a bigger picture, some sort of backstory that made him so quiet and stoic?

On the other hand, it was not like he never laughed. When someone made a joke out loud, Gale Cleven would laugh with everyone else and his beautiful, melancholic eyes sparkled with joy. You knew, because you watched him carefully. Despite the mystery, he didn’t have an eerie aura of a bad boy. There was goodness and kindness all over his face; maturity that other boys around you lacked. They just wanted to party and have fun like typical students and most of their topics to discuss were about sports, drinks, girls and the war that had ended not so long ago. However, the American boys still talked about the planes, the guns, the tanks and the heroes. You couldn’t be interested in dating any of them. Not to mention, as a woman in college you could not afford any distractions. You had been working hard to be able to study there and you did not want to miss that opportunity. You couldn’t start getting worse grades or suddenly decide to drop out and get married – God forbid get pregnant. No, that would be a disappointment to your family and to yourself, too. Because your goal was to get a degree for yourself.

The day was warm and sunny, so you were sitting under a tree with your roommate Kathy. She was a chatty girl – sometimes annoyingly – but she was also social for the both of you. So, she would tell you all the gossip and all the drama that had taken place during the parties. Thanks to her, you were always updated on the social life of the campus. But since you were both studying for the upcoming exam, she was unusually quiet on that day.

That changed when from the corner of your eye, you spotted Gale Cleven with a book in his hand, walking in your direction. He found himself a tree nearby and sat under it since no one else had been occupying that space. He opened the heavy book from the library with a leather brown cover and leaned on the tree to read the marked pages. You wanted to go back to reading your own book and your notes, but you couldn’t focus as your eyes began to wander in his direction over and over. Kathy giggled and you gazed upon her questioningly.

“What is it?” You asked.

“You’re so terrible at hiding it,” she rolled her eyes. “You fancy him.”

“I do not!” You gasped, scared that she knew your deeply hidden secret. In fact, you didn’t want to admit it even to yourself because you just did not want to get involved in any sort of romance or affair while working on your degree. Not that Gale Cleven would ever look back at you, anyway.

“Why do you write about him in your journal then?” Kathy asked and squinted her eyes as your heart skipped a beat.

“Are you reading my journal now?” You accused her.

“Oh, don’t be silly! I accidentally opened it the other day, thinking it was one of your notebooks for the class. I was looking for the notes from that lecture I missed. But no, it was your journal and I really didn’t want to read it but I couldn’t help but see that you mentioned him like three times on the same page!” Kathy giggled and you felt your cheeks warming up.

“I was just wondering about him. Where he’s from, what he's like. Everyone wonders that about him, don’t they?” You tried to come up with an excuse.

“I think I know, actually,” Kathy lowered her voice mysteriously and you leant in to listen. “You see, Jack told me,” she explained.

Jack was a guy she had been hanging around with for a while now and you expected them to go steady soon. Jack was also one of the most social guys on the campus and he was nice to everyone. It was easy to feel welcomed and secure in his company. He was one of those old money people who had everything but it didn’t spoil their character. You sometimes wondered why Jack wanted to date Kathy, who was a nice girl but a huge gossip. You couldn’t judge her too hard, though, since you were engaging in gossip as well. Just like right now.

“And how can Jack know anything?” You asked before she could say a word more.

“Because Jack’s been curious about that guy,” Kathy rolled her eyes at your disbelief in her soon-to-be boyfriend’s capability. “And he asked around. He even asked his father and, as you know, he’s quite a persona.”

“I am aware,” you nodded.

“So, Jack wondered how a guy like Gale Cleven had gotten himself to a school like that, you know?”

“And?” You asked, biting on your lower lip out of anticipation.

“Turns out he served in the last war and he’s quite a hero, too. He received some medals but he never picked them up,”  Kathy explained and you tilted your head like a confused child or a cat. You weren’t sure what to think of that story. “Well, you have to admit, it would explain his age and the scars,” she continued. “And that’s not the end of the story. He didn’t just serve. He was a pilot. He was flying heavy bombers in Europe! And… he spent over a year in a POW camp in Germany.”

“Now, that sounds like a legend, you know? I like Jack but I think he reads too much of Francis Scott Fitzgerald,” you shrugged your arms. “Sounds too much like Gatsby or something.”

“You read too much of Francis Scott, not Jack!” Kathy giggled. “Look, he’s staring at us!”

You hissed at her, embarrassed with the volume of her voice as you turned around to look at Gale Cleven. He was indeed looking at you but he blushed and looked down at his book immediately after you turned around.

“I’m sure he knows we’re talking about him,” you were not very pleased with that.

“Oh, come on! Go to him,” Kathy pushed you slightly.

“What?! No way! We don’t talk to each other,” you protested, all stressed out as your heart pounded in your chest.

“Then that’s the best time to start. Go, ask him for a pencil,” she came up with that just like that and you realised why Kathy was such a social person who was friends with everyone and managed to get a guy like Jack. She just had those ideas out of nowhere, she knew how to start a conversation… She was a natural, really.

You rolled your eyes and fixed your skirt as you put your book and notes aside. After all, asking for a pencil was not that embarrassing, was it? You stood up and approached Gale Cleven with cold and sweaty hands. He looked up and it nearly took your breath away how handsome he was with those beautiful blue eyes and that one hair strand on his forehead.

“H-hi,” you waved shyly at him as he raised an eyebrow. “My name’s (Y/N),” you introduced yourself and regretted it immediately. You didn’t have to introduce yourself when you were just asking a stranger for the pencil, did you? Well, it was too late now. “We go to Modern History class together,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I know who you are,” he nodded and gave you a genuine and warm smile that made it very difficult to stop yourself from giggling like a teenage girl. “I’m Buck,” he introduced himself.

“Buck?” You were surprised to hear that.

“That’s what friends call me,” he explained.

“Oh, I see…” You nervously played with your fingers. “Anyway, well, uh, I… I was wondering… Because I am studying for my exam and…” you pointed at the tree behind you where all your things and Kathy were. “I was thinking… Do you have a pencil on you perhaps? To lend me? I forgot to take mine from the dormitory,” you explained nervously and you suddenly realised that it all had sounded very fake and totally made up, actually.

But Buck did not seem to mind. He put his hand into the pocket of his trousers and handed you a pencil with a smile.

“There you go,” he said.

“Oh, thank you!” You took it from him and squeezed it in your fist. “You’re a lifesaver, really!”

“No big deal, (Y/N),” he winked at you and made you feel dizzy with the way he said your name out loud in that deep voice of his… and the wink did not help the sensation at all. “It’s just a pencil.”

“Um, well, thank you anyway. I will give it back!” You promised and smiled at him before running back to Kathy who had a huge grin on her face.

It wasn’t easy to go back to studying after that. You kept staring at Buck Cleven secretly and your eyes were only looking at the words in your notes but not reading them at all. And then, one time when you lifted your head up, he was gone.

“It’s good,” Kathy told you. “It means you have one more opportunity to approach him when you’ll be giving him his pencil back.”

You approached Buck after your exam when you went to the library to give the books back since you weren’t needing them anymore. He was sitting alone by one of the tables and reading a book as usual. So, when the librarian was already done with the pile you had given her, you approached Buck after finding his pencil in your purse. In fact, you had been walking around with it in your bag for a week now, looking for an occasion like this.

“Hey,” you started and he looked up. When he spotted that it was you calling him, he smiled gently. “I have something yours,” you reminded him as you handed him a pencil.

“Oh, thanks,” he took it from you as you suddenly felt a bit empty when you realised you had given back something that belonged to him and you could no longer play with it between your fingers as you daydreamed about him. “You didn’t have to give it back,” he added.

“I don’t like keeping other people’s things,” you explained. “Are you done with your exams this season?”

“Nearly,” he chuckled as he pointed at the book in front of him. “I have this one exam but… It’s easy,” he shrugged his arms. “I don’t really have to study for it,” he explained.

“I am nearly done with my exams, too,” you said. “And at the end of the week, when everyone will be free, there’s this party,” you started and immediately regretted it. What were you even doing? You didn’t know him enough to invite him to the party that was not even yours. And you weren’t planning to go to that party anyway! Also, you didn’t want to make him think you were one of those girls that were going to parties… So, why did you say that? And now, you had to continue the subject. “My roommate’s boyfriend is throwing a party for the end of the exams season,” you explained. “He’s renting a whole pub for that. Are you coming?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Buck answered. “I don’t know Jack that well.”

“Oh, so you know it’s Jack,” you chuckled nervously.

“Everyone knows who he is and that he throws these parties,” Buck winked at you. “You’re going, I assume?”

Well, it would be stupid to tell him now that you actually were not planning to.

“I was thinking of that. Because I have never gone to one of his parties. And you know, you don’t really have to be invited. Jack always says that everyone’s welcome,” you added and then you looked down. You started to feel like you were bothering Gale Cleven and your attempts to continue this conversation were starting to get pathetic and desperate.

“I’m not really a big party guy, sorry,” Buck answered.

“I’m not really a big party girl either,” you shrugged your arms. “Well, sorry to bother you… Good luck on your exam!” You tried to fight the tears pricking your eyes as you turned around on your heel to walk away.

“(Y/N), wait,” Buck’s distressed voice made you turn around. He looked nervous all of sudden and sort of guilty, too. That made you furrow your brows. “If you decide not to go to that party… Maybe we could just go somewhere alone? Just the two of us, I mean. A walk in the park or a cafe,” he proposed. “I know it’s not as fun as Jack’s party but… Well, I appreciate your invitation. I really do,” he assured you.

“Oh, I… I think it sounds great!” You sniffed the tears back and gave him a smile. He sighed with relief and smiled back at you. “We can go for a cup of hot chocolate as they get drunk like animals,” you chuckled nervously and Buck nodded.

“Call me boring but that sounds so much better to me,” he admitted.

“That would make us both boring then,” you smiled. “So, on Friday? At six perhaps?”

“Friday at six,” Buck nodded. “Let’s meet outside by the monument.”

“Great! I will be there!” You promised before leaving the library, not believing your own happiness as you were smiling like an idiot to yourself.

Still, some part of you felt as if Buck had only asked you to go out with him because he was feeling guilty about the way he had treated your invitation to the party.

Kathy regretted that you were not going to Jack’s party but she understood this time. At least on that night you were missing out on it because of some sort of a date and not like usual; when you had just been reading books or listening to the records alone in your room. She even helped you with your hair and make-up and she lent you her beautiful silk scarf to put around your neck. She also allowed you to use her expensive perfumes that had been a gift from Jack. You had never been so dolled up in your whole life. You hoped that Buck would appreciate that.

On the other hand, a guy as handsome as him… probably had been on real dates with real beauties before. As you were staring at yourself in the mirror for the one last time, you began to doubt yourself again. It was not a date… It was just a friendly meeting and he would never look at you in the same way you were looking at him. Those were the words of your tiny, ugly voice inside your head.

But you shook it off and hurried to the meeting spot since it was five to six. Buck was already there.

“Oh, my!” You greeted him. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late,” he glanced at the watch on his hand. “You’re just in time,” he smiled.

“Are you sure you want to go with me?” You asked, shyly.

“What do you mean? I was the one to ask you out, was I not?” Buck furrowed his brows.

“Yes… I know… But… I feel like you asked me out only because you thought I was sad about you not accepting the party invitation,” you admitted.

“I didn’t accept the invitation because I don’t like parties. But I don’t mind spending a nice evening with you,” Buck explained. “So, shall we go now? Or are you having second thoughts?”

“No, no, I don’t!” You protested and he chuckled. “Let’s go!” You said and he offered you his arm.

You walked to the cafe nearby the campus where they sold the best hot chocolate and tasty pastries. You asked Buck about his exams and he asked you about yours but your whole conversation was about college.

When you were sitting by the window and staring at people walking down the street in silence, waiting for your order, you began to start feeling uncomfortable. You felt the need to talk about something but you were scared of asking something offensive.

“I was wondering…” You started after taking a deep breath in. “There are a lot of rumours about you. And you don’t have to answer me that, you really don’t. But are they true?” You batted your eyelashes and he gave you a soft and kind of sad smile.

“Depends on what kind of rumours,” he nodded.

“Jack says you were a pilot…” You cleared your throat. “I’m sorry,” you mumbled as the waitress brought your cups and plates with croissants.

“Thank you,” Buck told her and nodded at her as she walked away. “No, don’t be sorry,” he addressed you again. “It’s true. Everything Jack says about me is true. After all, his father funds this school, does he not? He took a look into my papers.”

“He shouldn’t have done that,” you pointed out. “Jack is really nice but he’s nosy sometimes.”

“It’s fine. Funding such a place comes with privileges, I guess,” Buck shrugged his arms.

“You never talk about it,” you said and dared to lay your eyes on him again but he didn’t look annoyed at all. “There are a few guys here who served. And one girl that was in Europe, too. And they talk about it all the time.”

“I don’t want to be known as that guy who was in Europe and flew heavy bombers. Although, I guess it’s too late now,” Buck laughed nervously as he sipped on his hot chocolate. “And, you know, I really am no hero, no matter what Jack says. I flew a few missions and got shot down and then spent over a year in a camp,” he explained.

“Really, I’m sorry for bringing this up… We don’t have to talk about it,” you shook your head.

“I was scared you listened to the other gossip about me, you know,” he teased but you had no idea what he was talking about. “Some guy around campus says that I’m a hiding serial killer from the South.”

“Now, that is ridiculous,” you rolled your eyes.

“I know but my scars seem to convince a few people,” he whispered and blushed.

“Those people are full of shit then!” You snapped and then you froze, realising what you had just said. Your eyes widened out of terror and you felt your cheeks heating up as Buck chuckled. “Oh God, I’m terribly sorry! I shouldn’t have said that…”

“Don’t be sorry, love. Do you think I don’t know that women use such language, too?” He smirked at you and you sighed with relief but the little voice in your head kept convincing you that you had just ruined all your chances with that man. “The nurses in the base in England… They cursed like sailors, some of them. They were cussing us out for not being careful enough. And they were the bravest and loveliest women I have known,” he assured you.

“Have you dated any of them?” You asked and you bit yourself on your tongue. Why did you keep embarrassing yourself like that? Dear God, you were awful!

“No, I have not,” Buck answered with a smile and a shake of his head. “I focused on my job.”

“Like I am focusing on my studies now,” you nodded. “It’s important for me to get that degree. I believe women should have easier access to education and, you know, maybe one day I’ll end up like most of them… As a housewife and a mother… I don’t mind. But at least I will have that degree,” you explained.

“Yes, I agree that women should have easier access to education,” Buck agreed with you. “Everyone, in that matter.”

“Yes, of course,” you nodded. “By the way, don’t listen to those awful people. Your scars only prove your bravery,” you pointed out and he blushed again.

“Really, no bravery to talk about. I just did my job,” he laughed nervously.

“You might be humble about it but it won’t change my mind,” you insisted.

“So, what do you do in your free time when you’re not studying, darling?” Buck changed the topic nonchalantly and your eyes sparkled at the way he addressed you.

“I listen to music and I read books. I journal, too. Sometimes I go to the movies,” you answered.

“I like the movies, too. We should go together sometime,” he proposed and you smiled widely at him. “I take that as a yes,” he chuckled.

“Have you seen Gilda?” You asked, carefully.

“No, not yet. But I’ve heard it’s a nice movie,” Buck answered.

“Oh, it’s amazing. I have seen it a few times! I would love us to go see it together,” you proposed.

“But you can’t spoil me anything,” Buck teased and you pretended to zip your mouth with your fingers. “Good,” he nodded with a smile.

You continued to talk about the movies and some music, avoiding the subject of the war since you felt as if you had already pushed too far with that before. Around eight, Buck said it would be best for you both to go back, so he helped you to put your coat back on like a real gentleman and even complimented on your perfumes as you were walking out of the cafe.

“They’re not really mine,” you admitted, not wanting to lie to him. “Kathy allowed me to use hers. They were a gift from Jack and had to cost a fortune,” you confessed with a giggle.

“I’m sure your perfumes are just as nice,” Buck assured you and took you by your arm as you began walking back to the campus.

You kept talking about silly things until you found yourselves by the front door leading to the female dormitory. You stood there, facing each other a little awkwardly. And when you were about to tell him goodnight and turn around to go inside, he slowly leaned in to cup your face in his hands. Watching your reaction carefully, Buck joined your lips together in a sweet and delicate kiss. Your heart pounded so fast, you were afraid it would explode any given moment.

When he broke the kiss, you batted your eyelashes at him with a huge smile, warm cheeks and sparkles in your excited eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been out with someone and I couldn’t wait to kiss you,” he admitted.

“Don’t be sorry, Gale,” you whispered, feeling a little overwhelmed and not being able to believe what had just happened.

“I know you don’t want this sort of thing to distract you from your studies,” he took a step back.

“As if Mr. I-don’t-like-parties could ever distract me,” you chuckled, making him blush. You held his hands and squeezed them. “Anyway, you’ve been distracting me already from the moment you showed up on the campus,” you admitted and bit on your lower lip.

“Oh, thank God,” Buck laughed. “I was scared you’d admit I was right and it would be best for us to stop seeing each other.”

“You promised me the cinema date,” you pouted. “Let’s have at least that before I call it quits.”

“Well, I’ll do my best for you not to call it quits,” Buck leaned in again to place another soft kiss upon your lips.

The thing that made you break the kiss this time was a loud noise from afar, coming from the pub where Jack’s party was taking place. The sound of shattering glass and people’s laughter startled you both.

“I am so glad we didn’t go there,” you admitted. “Hot chocolate is so much nicer than that.”

“It was good,” Buck winked at you, “but I wish it was as sweet as you, love,” he breathed out and gave you yet one more kiss as your cheeks heated up and you placed your hands flat on his chest.

MASTERLIST || BUCK MASTERLIST

#sansaorgana: Answered #lovely anons #*buck #lilysfiction #austin butler x reader #gale cleven x reader

[pb524830]

right where you left me

part: 8 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 1.5k c/w: language a/n: sighhhhh i'm not so happy with the way this ended, but i had so much fun writing this series. honestly, though, i'm very excited to start on some new stuff, so please please please stay tuned for that. let me know if you guys have requests, i'm feeling uninspired. thank you all so so much for staying tuned for this series, and while i'm sad it's over, you may be seeing more of paige and maya later on! let me know what you think!

When I wake up the next morning, I try for a moment to fool myself that this is my normal. That I always wake up wrapped in Paige, her hair tickling my nose. That I get to press a soft kiss into the skin of her neck and watch her eyes flutter open every single morning.

But in reality, we've fucked up. Paige’s eyes bore into mine. “We shouldn’t have done that,” she sighs. It’s not a question. It’s the truth. I search her eyes, trying to find some semblance of calm in the baby blue. This morning doesn’t forecast clear skies, as it would seem. Instead, I’m met with a raging storm.

“Do you wish we hadn’t?” I ask. My voice sounds foreign to my own ears. She hesitates. “I should,” she tells me. “But I don’t.” I shut my eyes, exhaling through my nose. She keeps talking. “I got to touch you.”

“I got to kiss you. Got to hold you, get to wake up to you.”

I nod, pursing my lips. “I know.”

“Maya, baby.”

I let myself look at her, opening my eyes to let them rove over her lips and her nose.

“I need to tell you something,” Paige says quietly.

She sits up, clad in one of her own t-shirts she’d grabbed from my closet. My eyes follow her movements, waiting with bated breath to see if she’ll leave.

“It wasn’t you. It was me.”

I sit up cautiously, narrowing my eyes at her. “Are you… re-breaking up with me, right now, Paige?”

Her eyes widen and she shakes her head indignantly. “No! No, no, no! Just-just listen, okay?”

I nod, encouraging her to go on. 

“I was insecure. I was so worried that everyone else would see what I see in you - how beautiful you are, how smart you are, and kind, and funny, and talented, and-and sexy. How could they not? I mean, you’re all that and-and more.”

“But I should have trusted you, too. It was unfair of me to throw the situation with Nicky back in your face. I’m the one who kissed you. I called you and you came, because you always do, because that’s how good you are. Because you love me. You’ve never done wrong by me, Maya. Ever. Even if I missed a comp, you were always there at my games. Even when I fucked up, you showed up for me, Mai.”

“And I’ve known. That it’s you. Maybe as long as we’ve known each other, I couldn’t tell you. But I don’t want anyone to touch me the way you do. I can’t imagine looking at someone else and-and feeling the things I feel when I look at you, Mai. I can’t even put them into words. I just know that this feeling that I have - right now - waking up to you and knowing that I’m yours and you’re mine… shit, Maya. I want this feeling for fucking life.”

My eyes sting with tears. “Paige,” I whisper. 

“And I know you want time. And space. Or whatever the fuck. But I’m telling you I don’t need any of that shit. I just need you. Us. However much you’re willing to give. I’ll take it. Some of you, all of you. I don’t give a fuck. I’ll wait. However long it takes.” She rushes all of this out, her tone taking on a sense of urgency. 

I’m silent, still processing her words. 

“My bus to the airport leaves in an hour. If I’m not there, Coach will skin me alive,” she tells me, getting off the bed. “I know… you have doubts. I get it. But I’m telling you right now, you’re fucking it for me, Maya. And if you need a day, weeks, months, years to get to that place - I’ll still wait for you.”

Paige walks briskly to me, taking my face in her hands. I feel as though I’m in a state of shock. “My bus leaves from the Hilton. If you come, I’ll know you want to keep trying.” She kisses me chastely. “Please come,” she whispers.

Then she’s gone. I glance at the clock on my phone. It reads 9:30. 

I let about fifteen minutes pass.

Then another fifteen. I pick at my blankets, my fingers twitching.

Twenty minutes go by.

Then thirty more.

I check my phone again. Nothing from Paige. The time reads 10:52.

I hesitate.

Then I grab my car keys off my nightstand.

*******

Paige’s POV

“She didn’t come?” KK asks softly. I stare out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dark hair. “Nah, guess not.” I try to play it off, acting like it doesn’t bother me, but my heart feels like someone stabbed it and twisted the knife. I pull my jacket tighter around me, as though it might hide the bloodstains. 

The ride to the airport is slow and painful. I wallow in the words I said to her before I left. 

The truth is, I don’t want to be without her. I can’t. I’ve been in love with her since I was fifteen years old. I’m 23 now, and the sun still rises and sets on that fucking smile. 

I trudge through the airport, drag myself through security, and plop down at a seat at our gate. Azzi tries to poke me, trying to tease me to cheer me up. It doesn’t work. I shoot her a glare, then turn to the other side, determined to ignore the rest of my team. 

That’s when I see her.

Maya. 

She’s wearing what she wore to bed last night, a hoodie thrown over her t-shirt and shorts. She looks frantic, just about running through the airport. She clutches her keys in one hand, wallet in the other.

I shoot to my feet.

“Maya,” I breathe. KK gives me a weird look. “Yo, I know you’re down bad and all, but you have to chill.”

I swat her, my eyes still trained on the dark haired girl running through the Detroit airport. “No, dude. Maya. She’s here.”

KK’s eyes go wide when they spot her. “Girl, what are you standing here for? Go get her!”

“Right,” I mumble, nearly tripping trying to get past the bundle of duffels we all have on the floor in front of us. 

“Maya!” I call, praying she hears me. “Maya!”

She spins to find my voice, her hair swishing around her. I see her lips form my name, and then she’s sprinting towards me, launching herself at me. Without hesitation, I gather her in my arms, squeezing her to me, letting her wrap her legs around my waist. “Paige,” she whispers into my hair, placing a kiss at my temple.  “What are you doing here?” I wonder aloud. “I-I bought a ticket to Miami,” she splutters out, tears filling her eyes. “They wouldn’t let me in otherwise, but I had to see you-”

“You came,” I breathe, locking my arms around her body.

She stops, pulling back to look at me, a ‘duh’ look on her face. “You called,” she replies. 

I bury my face into her, breathing in her smell. “Don’t do that again, okay?” I beg.

She laughs tearfully, nodding and clutching me to her. It occurs to me momentarily that this is an awfully public display of affection to be having in an airport, but I don’t give a shit.

“Never again,” she agrees, slowly unhooking her legs from around me. 

“God, you scared me,” I tell her, but I’m too busy drinking her in to actually be mad.

“I just thought about what you said. We’re so over everything that happened in high school. I’m not scared you’ll hurt me again. I trust you too much for that. And I don’t need days or weeks or however fucking long, Paige. It’s been four years. I’m done waiting. I want this. Now,” she tells me earnestly.

I nod eagerly, unable to believe my ears. “We’ll- we’ll make it work. I’ll call you every day, every hour if you want. Whatever you want. You can visit! I’ll pay for your flights. I got NIL bank now, I’ll pay for whatever. I just-”

I know I’m babbling, but I’m just so unbelievably happy, I think I might be high off of it. I interrupt myself to kiss her, pulling her to me, not caring who sees. She laughs against me, kissing me back, and I think at this moment that if I could bottle her laugh up, I could get drunk off of it.

I lift her up off her feet once more, grinning at her.

“I hope you know I’m never letting you get away from me again,” I tell her.

Maya smiles at me, pecking my nose. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy,” she retorts.

I grin at her, stupidly in love with every single part of her. “You and me, baby?”

The smile she flashes at me is blinding, and she’s so beautiful I think I might pass out. 

“You and me.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers fic #fic #wcbb #uconn wbb #✂️ anon #ncaaw #paige bueckers x oc #fic talk #right where you left me

[meidui]

as you know, i am absolutely obsessed with 'seven years in heaven'. do you have any recommendations for similar fics where they teeter on the edge of a breakup or divorce, or where exes get back together? i'm looking for stories where the tension is all based on miscommunications and assumptions, and nobody is genuinely angry/there's no hate between them. i need that stupid yearning and longing when, in fact, they both still want each other. i've read a few but i can't get enough 😩✨

DO I EVER!! 🥰

In Too Deep by @fohatic

Steve knew that he was asking for trouble when he agreed to let the gallery auction off a date with him for charity, but he needed to get in the director's good books if he wanted to make it as an artist in this cutthroat town. He never imagined that his participation would ignite an outrageous bidding war, or that the infamous, billionaire ex that he hadn't seen since their sudden breakup two years prior would show up and stake his claim.

a *slightly* twisted, darker spin on meidui's "frequencies of sea and space"

frequencies of sea and space by meidui

“One mil,” a voice says, firmly, and Steve would recognise that voice anywhere. Like thick amber honey, like smoke from a fire, lighting him up and burning him down.

There are no higher bids.

Steve looks across the room and gazing back at him is the face he’s spent two years squeezing his eyes shut at night trying to block out, but those eyes meet his and it’s all over.

From the Ground Up by @omg-just-peachy

Tony and Steve broke up years ago and Tony never quite got over it. When they finally see each other again at Pepper's wedding, Rhodey convinces Tony this might just be his second chance.

Paint the Town Blue by @omg-just-peachy

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.

I'll keep your brittle heart warm by @omg-just-peachy

They got married when they were young, just twenty-four years old, despite the arguments from their friends that they should wait, that neither of them were ready for a commitment like marriage so young. Steve distinctly remembered Sam pointing out that the male brain isn’t even fully developed until age twenty-five. But they were young and passionate, so sure they’d found their perfect person that they could overcome anything and everything life threw at them. 

And it was true.

For six months. 

it always leads to you by @arabellamonkey

Slowly at first, and then all of a sudden, everything made sense: the way Tony had looked at him that first time when Pepper had introduced them, the way his eyes were always searching for him everywhere they went, and how Tony had asked him about his suit, voice clearly flirty now that he thought about it again. And that smile, oh God, that smile… it had been the same he had given him all those years ago when they flirted in their kitchen. “Wait, you… you recognized me?” Steve asked, eyes wide and voice incredulous. Tony scoffed, expression still bemused, “don’t insult my intelligence, of course I did.” Steve stared at him, both eyebrows raised. “Okay, it might have taken me a few days to figure it out,” Tony ended up admitting.

*** Or, after breaking up five years ago because of heavy miscommunication, Steve gets assigned to be Tony's personal bodyguard.

dreamt of you all summer long by @ifmywishescametrue

Steve spends months after the breakup trying to forget Tony, but it never seems to work. That's alright, though, because Tony can't forget him either.

all I ever knew of love by @stovetuna

For six months, nobody knew that Tony Stark and Steve Rogers were dating.   Which means no one knows they broke up six weeks ago.

Catching Lightning in a Bottle by @sabrecmc

College student Tony meets janitor Steve at MIT and they fall blissfully in love, until Howard happens and things fall apart. One divorce paperwork snafu courtesy of the ever-helpful Jarvis, and ten years later, Tony has to get re-divorced from Steve.

This does not go as he imagines.

Or, the Sweet Home Alabama AU that no one--well, okay, a few of you--asked for.

Modern Love by @captainneverever

Tony drifts into a relationship with Steve after a one night stand. He thinks that Steve is modern and well adjusted to the 21st century but finds that Steve is old-fashioned in unexpected ways.

Captain Coffee by @captainneverever

Steve is content managing his own coffee shop and life is full with friends and neighbors. But an owner of big coffee chain pressures him to sell and someone from his past reappears. And now Steve needs to fight a bully, an ex, and himself to get his happy ending.

Never Worlds Apart by @kandisheek

It's been six years since he's seen Tony when he walks into his favorite diner and sees him sitting in their old booth, as if nothing ever happened. Steve can't believe the nerve of Tony to just show up out of the blue after the way he ended things.

Turns out Tony has a reason for wanting to make amends. And Steve doesn't appreciate only finding out about it after Tony has already almost died.

Plausible Deniability by nowalee

Tony and Steve broke up a month ago. Now, Tony is back because Fury wants him for an undercover mission. Only catch? Steve has to go with him, because the public doesn't know they broke up yet. It's a perfect cover.

And Tony can totally be alone on a mission with his ex who he isn't over yet. What could possibly go wrong?

You, Me and the Christmas Tree by @wikketkrikket

Steve thinks Tony is drinking. Tony thinks Steve is cheating. They both think their marriage is over. They are just going to give Peter one last family Christmas because he thinks everything is fine.

None of them are wrong, but none of them are right either. When Steve and Tony get snowed in together 3 days before Christmas, will the enforced proximity be the time they need to figure things out?

(Spoilers: yes, yes it will)

#if anyone has additions please add them because i also can't get enough 😌 #soliloquent-stark #asked #fic rec #stony #stevetony

[khaire-traveler]

This is so stupid and you probably can't but can you help me find the deity that fits me? I stopped worshipping three bc I just didn't have a bond with them

Hey, Nonny!

I'm certain I've answered a very similar question recently, but for the life of me, I can't seem to find the post. 💀 I'm just going to restate the information I remember giving, since I can't link it. I obviously can't know which deity you'll feel a connection to, but I'll give the best advice I can think of to hopefully offer you a place to start.

The first thing I'd do is make a list of things that genuinely interest you. I'm talking about hobbies, passions, inspirations, interests, topics you study - that kind of thing. After that, make a list of things you feel you need help with or would like to personally work on. Habits you'd like to stop, flaws you'd like to improve on, traits you want to strengthen, goals you want to achieve, current struggles that you're facing - that sort of thing. You can be as detailed or simple as you want; these lists don't have to be super long or fancy.

The next thing I'd do is look into the deities within the pantheon I'm interested in. Search terms like "Greek god of medicine", for example, and you're likely to find at least one result. I would try to keep your search terms broad, however; I wouldn't search up extremely niche topics. If you can't find anything under those search terms, look up a general list of the deities within that pantheon and go through them. Look at any names that seem to stick out to you more than the others. This part of the process would likely take the most time and effort.

After that, I'd make a list of the deities that interest me. Try to look at deities who are involved with the topics you enjoy or could potentially help you with whatever you want to work on. For example, let's say you enjoy writing. You may want to try reaching out to Lord Hermes, who has a domain within language and communication. You could also reach out to one of the Muses, who often aid with creative endeavors. Try finding deities that are related to the topics that you made lists for, and see what you've got.

When the list of deities is made, I'd start reaching out! Reach out to the deities who call to you the most to start. Which names stand out to you? Which deities are the most involved with your interests? Look for deities you think you'd get along well with.

I will say that it's important to remember that bonds take time to form. You're not likely to find a deity you just immediately click with; it tends to take time to form a deep and strong connection. Sometimes we do find a deity who we feel a more immediate bond with or feel called to worship, but that's not always the case, and that's entirely normal. Just like any human relationship, deity relationships develop over time with lots of care, communication, and time spent together.

The last thing I want to mention is that you're also welcome to worship deities just because you think they're cool. You don't need any other reason than that to simply reach out and say hello. Every deity I've met seems to enjoy having a worshipper who truly appreciates them. c:

I hope this is helpful and can offer you some guidance on where you can try to start! At the end of the day, this is just a suggestion, and you absolutely don't have to do things this way if you don't find it helpful. Regardless, I wish you the best of luck on this new journey. Take care, and I'm sure you'll find a deity you feel a connection to soon. Have a good day/night. 🧡

#scheduled post #anon asks #answered asks

[kellyvela]

If Grrm didn't scrap the 5 yrs age gap, then Sansa would be 18-19 and Jon would be 21-22 during reclaiming WF. Somewhat similar in age of Ned Cat when they enter WF after marriage.

Right, but, that "gap" wasn't really a "big" thing. George only thought about it after finishing ASOS and tried to do it while he started writing AFFC, but soon after he realized that it wouldn't work.

Q: I'm obsessed with the five-year gap you originally planned in the middle of the series. How would that have happened? GRRM: Originally, there was not supposed to be any gap. There was just supposed to be a passage of time, as the book went forward. My original concept back in 1991 was, I would start with these characters as children, and they would get older. If you pick up Arya at eight, the second chapter would be a couple months later, and she would be eight and a half and [then] she'd be nine. [This would happen] all within the space of a book. But when I actually got into writing them, the events have a certain momentum. So you write a chapter and then in your next chapter, it can't be six months later, because something's going to happen the next day. So you have to write what happens the next day, and then you have to write what happens the week after that. And the news gets to some other place. And pretty soon, you've written hundreds of pages and a week has passed, instead of the six months, or the year, that you wanted to pass. So you end a book, and you've had a tremendous amount of events — but they've taken place over a short time frame and the eight-year-old kid is still eight years old. So that really took hold of me for the first three books. When it became apparent that that had taken hold of me, I came up with the idea of the five-year gap. "Time is not passing here as I want it to pass, so I will jump forward five years in time." And I will come back to these characters when they're a little more grown up. And that is what I tried to do when I started writing Feast for Crows. So [the gap] would have come after A Storm of Swords and before Feast for Crows. But what I soon discovered — and I struggled with this for a year — [the gap] worked well with some characters like Arya — who at end the of Storm of Swords has taken off for Braavos. You can come back five years later, and she has had five years of training and all that. Or Bran, who was taken in by the Children of the Forest and the green ceremony, [so you could] come back to him five years later. That’s good. Works for him. Other characters, it didn’t work at all. I'm writing the Cersei chapters in King's Landing, and saying, "Well yeah, in five years, six different guys have served as Hand and there was this conspiracy four years ago, and this thing happened three years ago." And I'm presenting all of this in flashbacks, and that wasn't working. The other alternative was [that] nothing happened in those five years, which seemed anticlimactic. The Jon Snow stuff was even worse, because at the end of Storm he gets elected Lord Commander. I'm picking up there, and writing "Well five years ago, I was elected Lord Commander. Nothing much has happened since then, but now things are starting to happen again." I finally, after a year, said "I can't make this work." [Source]

#asks #please-dot #asoiaf #grrm #five years gap

[smusherina]

the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions) - chapter 2 (wenclair)

fandom: Wednesday (2022), Addams Family (all media)

pairing: (romantic) Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair (platonic) OFC/Reader x Wenclair

summary: You'd been keeping an eye out for Enid Sinclair since freshman year. There'd been a silent camaraderie between you, both sitting in the very back of the room during Furs specific classes. Things changed, though, after Wednesday Addams came around. For one, Enid shifted.

additional clarification: Wednesday and Enid have an established relationship. Story follows the POV of an outsider.

You stood in the middle of the room, hands fiddling with the clicker as you tried to look for anything amiss. The sheet was set up on the wall, the projector was powered up and ready to go, the cushions were on the ground, and the additional reading material and the pamphlet you'd printed out were all there. You hadn't wanted to be presumptuous, so you hadn't gotten any snacks. Well, you'd gotten them, in case they asked. They were stashed in your cupboard space. But you didn't want to seem weird or too eager, or something.

You weren't sure if this was more of a casual hangout with a slideshow, or just a purely academic pursuit. You couldn't even say which was preferable. You wanted friends, but the journey of making them seemed so stressful.

As it was the weekend, you were out of uniform. You'd contemplated just wearing it to save you the trouble of having to pick out an outfit, but in the end, even a shitty outfit seemed less weird than the stiff school uniform. All of your clothes were hand-me-downs and thrifted, not in the trendy way, so you'd put some real effort into looking presentable.

You had on the best pants you owned, a pair of black trousers that were only slightly too big on you. You'd cuffed them yourself and were pretty proud of your handiwork. Because they were black, the slightly uneven stitching wasn't even that noticeable. You'd put on your cleanest tee shirt, a grey one with an old Autoshop logo on the front. It was a bit worn, the logo chipping away, but it had no visible stains.

You inspected your glasses, squinting your eyes. You held them up in the light. You wiped at the lenses with the hem of your shirt. No smudges, please.

The specs almost clattered to the ground when somebody knocked on your door. You shoved them back onto your nose and rushed to the door.

"Hi!" Enid chirped, dressed as colourfully as ever and with Wednesday in tow.

"Hello," You said and opened the door wider for them. "Please, come in."

"I'm so excited! I've never heard of different types of werewolves!" Oh, Enid, she was so pure. You could only smile, feeling a little dread already. The subject was pretty darn bleak.

"I'm curious as to how the nature of lycans differs from that of werewolves." Wednesday's sharp eyes caught yours. "Is this seating for us?" She pointed down at the cushions.

"Yeah! I figured the floor cushions would be more comfy than the chairs. One of you can borrow my desk chair, if you'd rather do that. I, um, I heard you're allergic to, uh, colour, Wednesday, so I put a black towel on it." You motioned to the floor, walking to your spot next to the white sheet. "If that's okay."

"Hmm," Wednesday said nothing as she primly sunk onto the towel-covered cushion. Wordlessly, she dug into her bag and pulled out a little notebook along with a fountain pen. Alright. So, she was all good.

You turned to Enid, who was looking at you with a quizzical look on her face.

"Would- would you like some water or something?" You'd never played host before. You hoped you were doing alright.

"Thanks, but we're good. We might go grab a bite to eat later, though. You should come with!" Enid said as she settled down next to Wednesday.

Oh. My. Gosh. More hanging out. You hadn't even proved yourself to be okay company yet. Enid's generosity really knew no bounds.

"Yeah!" Your voice cracked. "Uh, yeah, sure. Sounds great." You gave a jerky thumbs-up. Internally, you berated yourself for being so uncool.

Better to start now and breeze over your disastrous handling of social interaction. You flicked the lights off, save for the little lamp on the floor next to the cushions. So they'd see to take notes. You'd really thought of everything.

Clicking to show the first slide, you pointed between the two figures of anthropomorphic wolves standing somewhat upright. One was ragged and frothing at the mouth, bigger in stature, and sported a generally mangy appearance. The other had a smoother coat, looked perfectly calm, and had a more hunched back.

"This one," You stopped on the mangy-looking wolf. "Is a lycan. That one," You went back to the tamer-looking wolf. "Is a werewolf. I'm first gonna touch on some general stuff, like history, then what the specific differences are, then why those differences exist, and then I'll talk a little more about, uh, the social aspects."

Your two pupils nodded along. One did so enthusiastically, her head bobbing up and down rapidly, and the other nodded so minutely you wouldn't have caught if you weren't focusing on their reactions like a hawk. Swallowing, you gathered every smidge of confidence you could find and got on with it.

"Werewolves came first. Technically. It's a little unclear as to how they came to be as there's little written history. Different communities and old packs all have their stories, mythology passed along from generation to generation. It could be a curse, a blessing, an omen." You clicked to the next slide, where there were some specific origin stories. "For example, the O'Brien pack-"

"My dad's surname was O'Brien!" Enid perked up.

"It's likely he used to be a member! Where is he from?"

"He's originally from Northern Michigan."

"Oh, there you go. It's very likely he's the current alpha's son or grandson, depending on how old he is. He's probably got a more submissive temperament, which is why he took your mother's name." Oh no, you shouldn't assume her parents were married. "Or why you got her name."

"Yeah, he took her name. I thought they did that just 'cause..." Enid murmured.

"I... I don't know your family's specific traditions. It's just, uh, it's common for wolves to take the more dominant partner's surname when getting married." You glanced between them. Wednesday was writing down notes, eyes honed in on the projection. Enid looked at her girlfriend, biting her lip. You decided to continue.

"Um, so... The O'Brien pack is largely credited for bringing the monotheistic belief in the moon goddess over to the States in the 1800s. There's a lot of bloody, violent history in the conflict between native werewolves and settler werewolves, just as with humans- or normies, whichever term applies. I'm sure you two are familiar with that aspect of history, so I won't go into detail. Um." You checked to see if they were still on board.

"Question?" Enid asked, raising her hand tentatively.

"Yeah, go for it!" You fiddled with the clicker anxiously.

"My family believes in the Greek pantheon, specifically Selene." Enid scratched at her cheek. "How's that tie in with everything?"

"Oh yes, so basically werewolf religion can be split into two baseline camps, so to speak. Camp One consists of worshippers of a singular moon goddess and Camp Two is a belief in spirituality and natural forces. Within these camps are kind of sub-groups. For example, werewolves of Irish origin tend to believe in Irish mythology and, in turn, those of Greek origin believe in Greek mythology." You beamed, happy to answer her question. "Of course, in some cases, ancestry has nothing to do with anything, since culture and religion spread through people, not blood."

"I don't think we have Greek ancestry..." Enid muttered. "Maybe? I'm gonna have to ask."

"It's possible you don't, 'cause there was a uh, a trend in the 1950s that led to a lot of spiritually aligned werewolves converting to Selene." You shrugged. "Could be either way."

Enid also shrugged.

"So, uh, factually and scientifically, that's all, like... Wrong." You didn't know how else to put it. "Obviously, the point of religion is not to be correct, it is largely a comfort for people to believe in something greater than themselves, but there have been several, ill-received studies on exactly what werewolfism is."

"I assume this is not material that has been taught in your classes." Wednesday looked to Enid, who was gaping at the projection currently on a slide that had a picture of a DNA strand. "Why?"

"Well... I assume it's 'cause the teacher is a firm believer in werewolf creationism, which as a story is really convoluted and, just, impossible to summarize, so he doesn't spend much time teaching things he doesn't believe are true."

"That is..." Wednesday trailed off. "Alarming."

"I did file a complaint to Principal Weems during freshman year, but it didn't really go anywhere." You said meekly.

"I- I didn't know there was actual, I dunno, medical research on werewolves!" Enid blurted out, the words tumbling off her tongue.

"Fascinating, is it not?" You perked up. "Human doctors have done a fair bit of it, too! That's why werewolves can go to the hospital and get bloodwork done without being outed. Basically, all werewolves have a gene that makes it possible for them to shift forms. Studying it is hard, possibly due to some innate magical interference, not everything can be explained with science, but so far only werewolf researchers have been able to glean that this is, in fact, the source of their power. Humans have determined that the gene is responsible for some passive traits, such as a more efficient immune system, higher average body temp, and a faster metabolism.

"And this does bring us, finally, to the lycans. Lycans are humans subjected to the bite of a werewolf. It's been speculated that the werewolf gene is a mutation that evolved in response to exposure to the Lycan Infection over centuries. For the body to sustain the transformation, it needed to change, get stronger. Survival of the fittest with some supernatural road blocking, the results were remarkably successful."

"The Lycan Infection?" Wednesday uttered, looking up from her notebook to stare at you. You shivered, a chill travelling up your arms to your neck.

"Yes- yes, um, that's... The Lycan Infection is what made the majority of werewolves today. That's what the pathogen is called. It's unclear where it originated and how exactly it came to be." You clicked through a few slides. "There are some records of werewolves before the infection, but by no means enough to determine population numbers or anything substantial."

"So, we're all sick?" Enid asked, sounding downtrodden.

"Well, no, not really." You said, prompting her to tilt her head. She was precious. "Werewolves only carry it passively. Only lycans are, well, sick." You pursed your lips.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Enid said, eyes all sad and lips pouty.

"No! No, there's no need to be sorry! I like being a lycan." For the most part, you left unsaid. "It's totally fine."

"You were bitten, yes?" Wednesday asked poignantly.

"Wednesday!" Enid hissed, hitting her on the arm. Wednesday was unfazed, eyes locked onto yours.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly, trying to keep calm. "I was eight."

There was an awkward pause.

"Um! That happened, but I'm so fine right now. So fine. Nothing is wrong. Like, ever." You tapped your hands together. "So, lycans."

The lesson continued. Lycans looked like that 'cause the pathogen intercepted the growth of fur, caused an over-production of mucus and saliva, and accelerated nail growth. Due to lycans missing the werewolf gene, they retained more human features during the shift whereas werewolves could pass as normal wolves for a second, though only for a second. The absence of the gene also caused transformations to be more painful, a lack of mental agency in wolf form, and added stress to joints and ligaments.

"Yeah, lycans have a life expectancy of about thirty-five to forty-"

"You're- you're expected to die at forty?" Enid screeched. "At the latest?"

"Yeah?" You tilted your head to the side. "Y'know, it's been on the rise for the last ten years! It used to be thirty to thirty-five!"

You kept talking, kept showing slides, and Enid continued to be stunned, Wednesday remaining passive. Lycans were shunned from werewolf communities, generally denied access to packs and werewolf-specific health centres, and more often than not infertile. Lycans, due to their uncontrolled nature, were unable to form structured packs or support systems, leading to isolation and loneliness or unstable, abusive psedo-packs. Due to these issues, the most perpetuated stereotypes of lycans were that they were involved in street gangs, did drugs, and resorted to violence easily.

By the end of it, Enid was pretty much holding back tears. You'd fucked up. This was a mistake. You should've kept her ignorant. What would she even do with all this info? It wasn't like any of this was actually useful. The textbook section about lycans was basically cautions and warnings to stay the eff away.

"That's so tragic. You're just ill, is all. You need help, not exile." Enid sniffled. She wasn't quite crying, but her eyes were welling up. Wednesday was even holding her hand. You knew the goth didn't like touch, so that was probably a huge deal.

"I'm sorry." You didn't know what else to say. You sat down on the floor in front of them, feeling uncomfortable standing while they sat. You shuffled your weight, trying to think of something to make this better.

"You def have to join my pack. I've been looking for people to run with and I thought to ask you first since we've been sitting together for so long."

"Um." Thing was, you would've loved to. You'd have really loved to run with her. "I- uh, there's a great possibility I'd try to hurt you. And besides, I'm not allowed out on full moons."

Werewolves had the added benefit of not needing to shift much aside from when the moon was full. If you wanted to not be in utter agony, you needed to shift at least once a day. You had an allotted free period every weekday so you could go for a run on the grounds.

So, even if you could technically both run as wolves at the same time, Enid only really had reason to shift during full moons, conveniently the only time you'd be unable to join her. Fate was playing tricks on you, dangling a treat just above your nose. You felt like a dog with a piece of cheese on its nose, being told to wait, wait, wait.

"We could break you out." Wednesday pointed out. "I need to investigate the broken cage either way."

"Yeah! And I beat a hyde! No offence, but I could handle you."

How to say yes without sounding too excited by the prospect? How to quell a sense of foreboding doom, because there was a possibility, however small, that you too had beat a hyde?

You wanted to run with her. You wanted to be in her pack. You wanted, you wanted, you'd wanted for so long.

You were gonna do it.

"Sure. Yes! If- if you wanted to do that, you totally should! If you wanted to. And it wouldn't be too, uh, too complicated." You swallowed thickly, shrinking under their gazes. Both had such intense eyes. "And, um, just as a precaution, I could get some horse tranquillizer darts for Wednesday to have in case I get... Nasty. Just in case!"

Wednesday grinned. It was a terrifying expression. You couldn't look her in the eye. Cold sweat dampened your neck.

"Don't look so excited." Enid chastised her girlfriend and got up. "Aw, fuck, my knees." She whined, rubbing them. You got that. Your knees hurt, like, all the time. "Let's go eat!"

"Hm. Acceptable." Wednesday rose smoothly and deposited her pen and notebook back into her bag.

"Have fun," You waved.

"Oh, aren't you coming? I heard there's good dessert today." Enid, gracious soul, good heart, you'd never forget her kindness.

"I'll come! If you want!" You glanced at Wednesday. She didn't seem particularly offended by your presence, so you took that to mean you two were cool.

"Yeah!" Enid laughed a little, motioning for you to join them.

You skipped over to them, unable to hide the glee pouring off you. It would be fine. It would be so fine. It would be so fine that it'd actually be so unremarkable that after the fact you'd wonder what you'd even been so worried about.

It probably wasn't even you.

Taglist: [completely honest, i totally forgot about the taglist. adding it hours later lmao.] @screechcat, @filthy-sanvers-paws, @atticus-shits-n-giggles

#wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday series #wednesday netflix #wenclair #wednesday x enid #enid x wednesday #lesbian wednesday addams #lesbian enid sinclair #fic: the intricacies of werewolfism (and other afflictions)

[spopsalt]

It's so fucking funny how you're whining about Catra being a bad person, when she's morally grey at worst, but then make it clear on a lot of your posts that you like Rick Sanchez like he isn't 10000x worse like 😭😭😭😭😭😭???

Well hello to you too. Look, I'm not saying Rick is a good person, in a lot of my posts where I say that I love Rick, I also acknowledge that he's not a good person, I know he's a horrible person, he's killed people, committed more crimes than I can think off, emotionally abuses his grandson, is just an asshole in generally, etc., etc. But let me tell you something absolutely insane....a fictional character's mortality...doesn't make a difference in whether I like them or not! *Gasps* I like Rick because he's complex and layered, he struggles deeply with trauma from his wife and child brutally dying in front of them, and while this explains a lot of his horrible actions, it doesn't use to excuse it, like a certain show *cough* spop *cough* And his redemption arc, although it's still going, is really good because he's actually changing and is actually becoming better, unlike a certain abusive kitty-cat *cough* Catra *cough* It's realistic as well, he has times where he regresses, but he is still genuinely trying to, and is changing.

Besides, the show doesn't act like Rick is a good person, he's called out multiple times for being an asshole, and the show doesn't frame it as a good thing. Literally, one of the people Rick loved most, Birdperson, started distancing himself from Rick due to his toxic behaviors, and y'know what? The show rightfully doesn't show Birdperson as in the wrong for this. Also, Rick's character development is actually good, while he's still not a great person, he certainly is a better person than he was in season 1 or season 4, he's learned to accept therapy and is going to it every week, stopped manhandling Morty, is a lot gentler to Morty in general.

I'm only pointing out Catra's abusive behavior because the show frames it as a good thing, reminder a KID'S SHOW frames abusive behaviors as something romantic and desirable, and Catra gets together with the person she was abusing at the end, she never faces any consequences for her actions, and everyone forgave all of her war crimes after she did one good thing. Nobody was even allowed to be mad at her, also Catra isn't morally grey at worst, at worst, she literally attempted to end the world just so she could spite her sister crush. I don't mind if you like Catra, but I mind that you're attacking me because I don't like her. You do realize that you can acknowledge that a character isn't a good person, but still like them anyway, right? If you disagree with me, cool, but just block me instead of spreading anon hate, please and thank you.

#spop salt #anti catra #anti spop #anti c//a #spop crit #anti catradora #spop discourse #antic//a #spop critical #spop criticism

[mychlapci]

TFA anon is SO SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON BULKHEAD DREAM BUT HERE IT IS NOW

Anyways, in Decepticon society, I feel like in terms of romantic relationships, bots that are large and chunky like Bulkhead are considered to be very desirable. In fact, Decepticons are known to violently fight over those types of bots with other potential mates. Large and fat bots are desirable because they are able to carry many sparklings (averaging around four to five sparklings. The most was thirteen) and are generally very attractive to Decepticons unlike for Autobots those types of mechs are looked down upon.

So when Blitzwing and Lugnut met Bulkhead for the first time, they were immediately enamored. He was large enough to carry a fat litter of sparklings with hardly much trouble and was good looking as well. He was kind but also could hold his own if ever threatened by someone. Team Prime was incredibly confused when Blitzwing and Lugnut suddenly started acting weird. Towards Bulkhead they were more friendly and flirtatious but towards the rest of them they were more hostile. Maybe they considered the Autobots as a threat towards their courtship for Bulkhead. Additionally, they also started to bring Bulkhead gifts ranging from small trinkets to literal energon crystals for some reason.

It got even weirder when out of nowhere, Lugnut and Blitzwing just started brawling right in front of them. Like- actually brawling. Just snapping and clawing and just overall animalistic. Then they realized that had a job to do and went back to attacking the Autobots like nothing happened.

And then it gets even weirder. When it’s just Bulkhead and maybe even one other person like Bumblebee, Blitzwing starts doing these weird maneuvers in the air as if he was dancing and Lugnut just starts randomly showing off displays of strength by let’s say ripping a tree out of the ground (which Bulkhead does not appreciate in the slightest)

Ratchet is the first one who pieced together that they were not trying to intimidate them like they first suspected but were in fact trying to court Bulkhead. At this revelation, Bulkhead is both flattered and very flustered and Bumblebee just unhelpfully pats his arm and solemnly tells him good luck.

Since the two would not stop their advances on Bulkhead they decided to weigh the pros and cons of dating either Lugnut or Blitzwing. I am not joking. Ratchet literally pulled out a whiteboard from god knows where and told them to check the pros and cons before he hits them all with a wrench. In the end, the tallying for the both of them ended up being tied so they genuinely debated on just flipping a coin and choosing from there but Bumblebee comes up with the frankly obvious solution and just asks “Why not just pick both?”

Problem one just got solved just like that.

Problem two just got complicated because now Bulkhead was pregnant.

So when Bulkhead accepted the both of them as his mates Lugnut and Blitzwing got a bit too excited and ended up fucking him so hard not only was he sore and limping for the next two weeks, but they knocked him up as well. Lovely.

So now they had to deal with two very overprotective sires, a teammate who’s down for the count because he’s carrying a whole litter worth of sparklings, and then dealing with Decepticons while being down a member.

And also Megatron showing up more often and gaining an interest in Optimus which- what???

Ratchet might just kill someone if he has to deal with any more of this shit.

OH. holy shit I thought I answered this… crying emoji. so sorry TFA anon. 

You know I'm a big believer that Decepticons would find big fat bots extremely attractive. What's a skinny little speedster gonna go? They'll snap with the weight of a strong soldier on their waist. But big bots? They can carry many good heirs. The moment the 'Cons see Bulkhead they're swooning all over. He's a big fat bot, in prime breeding age, how can they just let those unappreciative autobots keep him? 

There's probably a momentary truce as Blitzwing and Lugnut need to balance wanting to keep their pretty carrier all for themselves, and Bulkhead still wanting to stay with the team. But I bet he enjoys knowing that he's swelling with babies and it only makes the 'Cons want him more. He was never desired this insanely and definitely not for his size… it’s very flattering.

(Okay, but do you think that Megatorn taking interest in Optimus is considered odd? Everyone is just shaking their heads as Megatron makes moves on the skinny-waisted little twink. They won't say anything, but they know he's choosing a sub-par carrier. How sad… Megatron and his ugly ass autobot boyfriend...)

#valveplug #pregnancy mention #texty

[harmonicakai]

Was It Something I Said?

Part 5 of the "Anyone Else But You" series

Pairing: Huening Kai x Reader

Summary: It gets harder and harder for you and Kai to pretend like there isn't something going on between the two of you.

Tropes: enemies to friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, fluff, angst, stylist!reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex (mdni!!!!), reader is insecure, miscommunication, alcohol, injuries

A/N: ahhh this series is almost over!!! i'm gonna miss it so much, but there's still plenty to come :-)

FIC INSPIRED PLAYLIST <3

“Did I fuck it up again? Are we destined to be friends? I wanna give you more than that” —Be Around Me, Will Joseph Cook

Kai and the boys have been in Japan for two days now, but with the amount of times that he has you on the phone, it feels like he never even left. Even if he refuses to talk about what happened at the album party, things are going pretty well between you and him.

You’re about to head out the door when your phone rings. You don’t even need to check the caller ID.

“Y/N, you didn’t call! The show’s about to start and you didn’t call!” Kai’s voice rings out of your phone’s speaker. While you can tell he’s mostly joking, he’s also a little worked up.

“Kai, we just talked, like, two hours ago. You know I have that date tonight.” Oh, he knows.

“Yeah, but I like when you call right before I’m about to go on stage. You’re my good luck charm.”

“You’re just being superstitious.”

“I wish you could see me pouting right now.” His sad puppy dog visuals pop into your head.

“Ugh, fine,” you relent. “You’re going to do amazing, Hyuka. Fighting!”

“That’s my girl!” he laughs, immediately ready to give his all on the stage. “I miss you so much.” 

His affection catches you off guard and you go quiet. 

“Hello?” he asks. “Y/N, are you there?”

“Yeah, sorry, I’m still here. Call me back so I can know how it went, okay?”

“You know I will,” he assures you. There’s obvious disappointment in his voice.

“Hueningie, it’s time to go!” you hear Taehyun call in the background.

“I have to go. Bye. Have fun on your date!”

“Bye,” you say. He ends the call and you feel an ache in your stomach. You miss him too, so why couldn’t you have just said it back?

When you finally get out the front doors of your building, Seongjin’s already waiting for you, flowers in hand. You note his outfit, something similar to what you have pinned on your “boyfriend manifestation” moodboard.

“Hey,” he says, holding the bouquet out to you. “These are for you.”

“They’re lovely,” you smile, bringing them to your nose to sniff them. You love the smell of roses. “I don’t think anybody’s ever gotten me flowers before.”

“Well, there’s more where that came from.” Seongjin’s hand finds its way into yours. He’s bold and romantic, even dressing exactly how you’d like him to. He’s checking off all of your boxes, and yet something feels off.

As the two of you walk towards the city’s center, you actually have no clue what he’s planned for tonight until he stops outside of a restaurant that you’ve had on your bucket list for years now.

“You’re joking!” you say in disbelief. “You have to get a reservation months in advance to eat here, and even then it’s impossible.”

“I called in a few favors,” he grins, holding the door open for you. You blush, wondering what you’ve done to deserve even a fraction of the effort he’s gone through.

The dinner’s going okay. There’s just something about the way that Seongjin’s meticulously planned everything, even his responses to your small talk, that makes you suspicious. He feels too perfect, almost unreal.

You find yourself focusing more on the delicious food than on any of what he’s been saying.

“You know,” he starts, “I only went to that album party because I knew you’d be there.”

The hint of Seongjin speaking in a less rehearsed way grabs your attention. You look up to see him grinning.

“No, you didn’t,” you laugh, dismissing him. “You probably didn’t even know who I was before Yeonjun introduced us.”

“Of course I did. I’ve thought you were cute for a while now. The way you’re always running around with your arms full of clothes. I can’t wait to debut so you can dress me up.”

You can’t believe that anybody had even noticed you around the building, let alone taken a romantic interest. If only somebody else felt that way. 

“Well, does that mean you’re not a big fan of TXT?” you ask, sipping your wine. You’re mostly joking, but also curious what his honest opinion of the group is.

“I mean, obviously, I think my uncle makes great songs for them. But besides Yeonjun, I don’t think they’re the kind of guys I’d really hang out with, you know?”

Your face heats up at his answer and your energy shifts. “No, I don’t know. Care to explain?”

“The other guys just seem so dorky. Not to mention half of them were wasted at a work event. Like that Huening kid whose outburst interrupted our conversation. What was that about anyway?”

“It’s none of your business,” you scoff, setting your silverware down. “And he’s not a kid. He’s almost twenty-two.”

“Look, Y/N, I know you’re close with them. I didn’t mean to make you upset. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.”

“You’re right, we don’t,” you say, standing up and gathering your things. “Thank you for dinner. I’ll see you around, I guess.”

On your way home, you start to wonder if you’ve made a mistake blowing off someone so well connected, but the way he talked about your friends makes your blood boil. 

Then again, things had been going just fine before then. Maybe you should’ve just smiled and nodded like you usually do. You’re not sure when you’ll ever get asked on another date again, let alone one that was planned so well.

Suddenly, your phone rings and for some reason, you answer. “What do you want now, Kai?!” you snap into the speaker.

“Whoa,” an unexpected voice replies, dragging out the word. “Actually, it’s Yeonjun.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry,” you groan, embarrassed at your attitude. “Hi, Jun.”

“So, I’m guessing your date didn’t go very well?”

“I think I’m going to get fired,” you huff, finally reaching your building again.

“That bad, huh? Tell me what happened.”

“I don’t know. He’s handsome and thoughtful and everything I could ask for really, but there wasn’t any sort of spark. Plus he called everyone in the group except you dorky, and that’s when I just got up, thanked him, and left.”

“Everyone else is dorky, Y/N. You really couldn’t wait until the end of dinner because of that?” 

“Fine, it’s stupid when I say it out loud. But the damage is already done,” you sigh, digging through your purse for your keys.

“I’m sure he’d reconsider if you apologize,” he reasons with you. You’re not sure that you actually have anything to be sorry about.

“I shouldn’t have to! He was making fun of Kai!” That’s it, you realize. That’s the reason you’re so upset. Of course this is somehow about him.

“Ah, I see now,” Yeonjun says, dropping the issue. “Well, hopefully you won’t run into him at work much.”

“Hopefully,” you agree. “How was the show?”

“It was amazing,” he muses. “I really played off the crowd’s energy, and they loved my solo stage.”

“That’s awesome, Jun,” you smile back. Ever since you and Kai have grown closer, it’s felt like Yeonjun has taken a backseat. “Anything interesting happen?”

“Soobin tried to do the Water challenge,” he laughs. “We all ran to cover him up, though. Beomgyu played the guitar, and MOA kept mentioning how Taehyun looked like Ash Ketchum.”

“Maybe you guys need to do a Pokémon concept,” you think out loud. You don’t fail to notice that Yeonjun has conveniently left out Kai from his recap, as if he’s testing to see whether you’ll bring him up first.

“Would I get to be a fire type trainer?” Yeonjun asks. So, he really isn’t going to mention how Kai did tonight. You bite your lip, resisting the urge to ask about him.

“Yes, of course. I think Soobin would be water, Beomgyu grass, and Taehyun psychic. Actually, wait. Maybe Beomgyu would have fairy types.”

“And Kai?” Yeonjun finally relents. You breathe out in relief at the mention of him.

“He’d be electric,” you decide. “Or normal. Whichever ones are the cutest, really.”

“You wanna know how the concert went for him, don’t you?” he asks.

“No, it’s okay, Jun,” you brush him off. “We can talk about whatever you want.”

“Y/N. It’s cool. I’ve just been messing with you.” You can practically hear him smirking through the phone.

“Oh,” you twiddle your thumbs. “Well, yes, then tell me how he did.”

Yeonjun sucks in a breath. “First off, I don’t want you to get worried.”

“Okay? Why would I be worried?”

Yeonjun hesitates before answering you. “He’s at the hospital right now.” Your stomach drops.

“What?! Is that what you were hiding from me?”

“I knew it would make you upset, Y/N. It’s not a big deal. It’s probably just a sprain, alright?”

“But he’s hurt,” you sigh. “Is that the reason you called me and not him?”

“Can’t I just want to hear my dear friend’s voice and ask how her date went?”

“Mhmm, sure.” You side eye him through the phone, plopping down onto your bed. You’re too tired to change out of your date clothes.

“Okay, fine,” he continues. “Kai did ask me to call you while the doctor checks him out. He knew it would probably be all over social media and didn’t want you to worry.”

“It’s probably my fault he injured himself,” you mutter, kicking off your shoes. “I hope it’s not too bad.”

“Y/N, he’s fine,” Yeonjun assures you. “And how could it possibly be your fault? We aren’t even in the same country right now. The stage was probably just wet because of the rain from earlier.”

“I think I made him upset right before you guys went on stage. He said he missed me and I didn’t say it back, but I think he wanted me to.”

“Hmm, I guess he did seem a little down now that you mention it.”

“Well, tell him I said sorry.” Knowing that he was noticeably off tonight because of you makes you feel horrible. If you had just said it back, he probably could’ve focused on the show better.

“I mean, if you want to wait and tell him yourself, he’ll probably be back any second now.”

“I don’t really feel like talking anymore. Night, Jun. I’ll see you later.” Before Yeonjun can say bye, you’ve already hung up. You’ve never been more confused over your emotions than tonight.

Throwing a pillow over your head, you scream into it. Your love life is in shambles and all you can think about is Huening Kai’s stupid, possibly-sprained ankle.

—————-

When Kai’s plane lands, you’re the first person he wants to see. Before he even left, he made sure that you had a key to the apartment, something Yeonjun was always too lazy to do.

You haven’t brought up the disaster of a date you went on while he was away, and to your relief, he hasn’t asked about it either. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care that it happened.

Getting him to agree to watch the new Mean Girls remake for your weekly movie night was much easier than you expected. You had even prepared a whole speech for why he should relent even though it was supposed to be his choice tonight.

“It’s a musical,” you reasoned. “You’ll like it!”

You were very, very wrong. The movie was horrible, but at least that meant that the two of you could hate-watch it together.

“Those lyrics…” he starts, rubbing his temples as the closing credits played.

“And the costumes!” They were not going to age well.

“That was really bad,” he laughs. “That’s the last time I’m letting you pick when it’s my turn.”

“I have a feeling I’ll still be able to charm you in the future,” you say, batting your eyelashes.

“That is so not fair.” He crosses his arms. “Why are you so cute?”

“It’s my superpower,” you say, grinning. A few months ago, you would’ve never said something like that, but Kai makes you feel so much better about yourself.

The way you’re looking at him makes him blush, and he glances away hoping you haven’t noticed. His gaze focuses on the clock on the wall.

“Oh, Y/N, it’s past two.” Kai says. Time always seems to disappear when you’re together. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Thunder booms outside the window and you can hear raindrops hitting the roof.

“That might be a bad idea. I can just call a car,” you say, grabbing your phone. He stops you.

“Just stay here,” he offers. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“You can’t sleep on the couch,” you disagree. “Yeonjun will think we’re mad at each other.”

“Well, if we sleep in here together, he’ll probably start planning our wedding.”

“I guess we’re losers in this game, huh?” you say, immediately cringing at the pun. The two of you exchange glances before cracking up.

Kai always takes longer to stop laughing than you. “Okay, how about this. You take the bed and I’ll sleep on the floor,” he says, still giddy.

“But it’s your bed! I can sleep on the floor.”

“I am not letting you sleep on the floor. You’re my guest.”

“This is stupid, Kai. Yeonjun doesn’t know the difference whether one of us sleeps on the floor or in the bed. We might as well just share.”

“But you snore, remember?”

“There’s actually no real evidence to that claim,” you refute.

“Well, it’s a twin sized bed. I might crush you.”

“I don’t need that much space. We can even sleep head to toe, if you want.”

“My feet stink. Your feet stink.” The effort he was going through to not share a bed with you was eating away at you. You’re sure he’s slept with his group mates plenty of times before, so what difference did it make?

“Oh my god! Fine, sleep on the floor.” You throw a pillow and one of his many plushies his way, turning on your side to face the wall. 

“Are you mad at me?” he asks from behind, his voice now quiet and careful. To be honest, you’re not quite sure whether you’re being serious or not.

You turn over to look at him, sitting on the edge of the bed, petting the plushie’s head.

“Kai,” you sit up. “Kai, look, I’m sorry. I’m not mad.”

“I feel like I’m always putting my foot in my mouth when I’m around you.”

“You’re not. I wouldn’t spend so much time with you if I didn’t want to.” You cup his cheek, running your thumb over one of his moles. “I promise.”

Yeonjun isn’t afraid to check you when you’re in the wrong, but Kai is too sweet to deal with any sort of confrontation. It’s something you’ve been having to adjust to lately.

“We can share the bed. I didn’t mean to make it seem like it was a bad thing,” he says. Sometimes you think he can read your mind.

“Okay,” you say, making room for him. He turns off the lamp and climbs in next to you, making sure to leave a big enough gap so he doesn’t touch you. Even in the dark, it’s obvious that he’s lying halfway off the mattress.

“You can come closer,” you say. God forbid he falls onto the floor in the middle of the night and it’s your fault for hogging all of the bed.

He moves inward, your faces so close that your noses are nearly touching. You could probably count his freckles from here.

Sure, every once in a while, you’ll lay your head on his shoulder or he’ll lay his in your lap, but this is much more intimate. Suddenly, your heartbeat feels too fast to fall asleep anymore.

“Y/N,” Kai whispers, although he already has your full attention. You like the way he says your name. His fingers grip your waist under the sheets, bringing you even closer. 

You tremble under his touch, his eyes locked on yours. This is a dangerous game.

In seconds, his mouth is pressed against yours, desperate and hungry. You’ve been kissed by boys before, but never like this. You can’t get enough of him.

You run your fingers through his hair, still soft even after several sessions of bleach. Like that night in the cab, you feel him hard against you, except now it’s intentional. It feels good.

Kai climbs on top of you, finding his way between your legs without breaking the kiss. You wonder how often he’s done this.

“We shouldn’t,” you breathe as he presses kisses along your collarbone, although it’s lost between your heavy sighs.

His hand grazes the waistband of your shorts. Visions of him doing the same with other girls—specifically the one from that morning—pop into your head. Panicking, you pull away from his kiss, using all of your strength to push him off of you.

“Y/N?” he asks, his lips puffy and his brows knitted in confusion. “What’s wrong?”

“I have to go,” you say, tugging down the hemline of your t-shirt, which had ridden up during the exchange. You hop off the bed and attempt to find your sneakers in the dark.

“Please don’t go,” he pleads with you, grabbing onto your wrist. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It was stupid.”

You turn back to him, tears welling up in your eyes. “It was stupid?”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just—I don’t want to do anything that could ruin our friendship. You mean too much to me, Y/N. I shouldn’t have kissed you, no matter how much I wanted to and no matter how good it felt.”

“It felt good?” you say, stepping towards him. It’s a relief to know he at least enjoyed it as much as you did.

“Really good,” Kai admits. “But it shouldn’t have happened. I can’t risk losing you.”

“Right.” It’s a really good point. “I don’t want to lose you either.”

“So… no kissing.”

“No kissing,” you agree.

“Anything else off the table?” He asks this in a way that you can’t tell if he’s flirting with you or not. You decide to take the risk and step closer to him. 

“I think cuddling is fair game. It would be too great a loss to our friendship.” You hold his hand.

“Mhmm, definitely.” He helps you climb back onto the bed before following suit, pressing his chest to your back, enveloping you in his warmth.

“You know, if I had you around in the wintertime, I’d save a lot on my heating bill,” you point out. 

“Go to sleep, silly,” Kai laughs, nuzzling his head into the nook above your shoulder. 

“Fine. Goodnight,” you yawn, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second.

“Sweet dreams, Y/N,” he whispers, although you’re already sound asleep, your soft snores filling the room.

—————-

When you wake up, Kai is gone. He’s left a note on the bedside table that reads: Went to get breakfast. Be back soon :-)

You stumble into the living room, rubbing your eyes as sunlight streams through the balcony doors. Yeonjun sits at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal and watching footage from the group’s latest dance rehearsal.

“Be honest, did you and Huening fuck last night?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

“Come on, Y/N. I heard some suspicious shit when I went to the kitchen to grab water and unless he’s doing some magical switcharoo, you’ve been the only girl around for the last few months.”

“Is this some weird cross examination? Are you going to compare my story to his?” You try not to smile at the notion that Kai has stopped seeing other girls, but it makes you giddy.

“I wish. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Yeonjun huffs.

“Well, if you must know, we made out for a few minutes. I panicked. He panicked. We both agreed to never do it again. End of story.”

“That’s no fun.”

“It’s not, but it prevents us from doing something we might regret and breaking up the entire friend group.”

“Do you like him like that?”

“I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.”

“It kind of does, Y/N. I’m pretty sure that boy is head over heels in love with you.”

The thought of Huening Kai being in love with you stops you dead in your tracks. Your Kai, secretly pining for your affection? You decide that it’s nothing more than a fantasy.

“That’s impossible,” you shrug. “It was just a moment of weakness between two friends. Nothing more, okay?”

Before you can discuss this any further, Kai is walking through the front door, coffee and pastries in hand.

“Y/N, you’re awake! I was scared I’d have to get you out of bed myself. Yeonjun was warning me how grumpy you are in the mornings.”

“She’s a monster,” Yeonjun says. You flick him on the side of the head. “Ouchie.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he giggles, unpacking enough doughnuts to feed an army. “I didn’t know which one you wanted, Y/N, so I just tried to pick ones I thought you’d like.” 

“I love honeydew, so you picked well,” you say, taking a bite of one with bright green filling. “Mmm! Where’d you get these?”

“Old Ferry Donut. It’s across town, but totally worth the trip. I go with my sisters all the time. You should come with us next time.”

“Ooh, introducing Y/N to the family. It’s getting serious,” Yeonjun teases. Kai shoots him a dirty look. He takes the hint, grabbing a couple of doughnuts on the way back to his bedroom.

“He can be such a dick sometimes,” Kai sighs.

“Yes, but he’s our dick,” you insist, trying not to let him ruin the moment.

“I suppose that’s true,” he laughs. It always makes you feel good about yourself whenever you manage to cheer him up. Usually, that’s his job with you. “I’d really like for Lea and Hiyyih to meet you, though. I think you’d all get along super well.”

“Then let’s set something up. I’m free all day,” you say, your mouth full of food.

“Really, Y/N?” Kai asks. You nod in agreement and his eyes light up at your enthusiasm. “This is awesome! I’ll text them right now!”

Maybe, just maybe, he really is in love with you.

—————-

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[ww2yaoi]

Listen I want to be into Webgott because I see all your hype and I’m like obviously it’s great and every time I try I’m like , “eh” about it, like what am I missiiiiing why can’t I get into thiiiiis?

So like. What’s the thing. I think maybe I have a hard time because they’re not bffs but they also aren’t exactly like mortal enemies and I’m having trouble figuring out what the vibe should be.

So anyways if you’ve got something to pitch me the sale I’m all ears.

I won't pitch to you because if something doesn't click, it doesn't click and with ships I feel like you either get it or you don’t, so I'm not gonna try and convince you because I honestly feel like that’s a waste of everyone’s time and would be a lot of effort on my end and like why do I give a fuck if you don’t like it (to be brutally honest). However, I can explain what I do like about it. This is going to be kind of rambly and fractured but whatever.

I guess first and foremost I see them both as very interesting characters in their own right. Joe and Web both hate the Germans, but they joined the war for different reasons. Web wanted to write about it, considering himself a kind of warrior poet. He wanted to be on the ground and experience the war as it happened, in all its honest brutality. He comes from a fairly wealthy family, and goes to an Ivy League school, yet he forwent becoming an officer to be a lowly private and sleep in holes. That’s weird. He’s a bit bizarre for doing that.

Joe, in the show at least, is Jewish. So this is personal to him. He’s fighting because he has to fight, because someone has to kill these Nazis and he’s very much willing to do that. He’s a good soldier for the most part, he doesn’t answer to authority all that well and he’s bloodthirsty to a detriment at times, but he’s extremely loyal to his friends and protective of the group.

Arguably, Web is not that good of a soldier. He doesn’t volunteer for anything. He didn’t break out of the hospital to rejoin his friends. He’s kind of a loner, scribbling in his notebook. He’s intellectual and pretentious and he gets bullied for it. All this culminates in his and Joe’s fraught relationship in The Last Patrol which is kind of the crux of the whole ship. Joe sees the worst in Web, but Web eventually proves himself and is accepted back into the group by Joe. I don’t want to explain the whole episode, you get the point.

All this to say, they’re very different people, of different social strata, and they never would’ve looked twice at each other had the war not happened, which is kind of the hidden beauty of these worldwide conflicts if there is any. The mass mobilization of millions of people under the umbrella of one cause has a sort of equalizing effect where different social groups come together. Joe and Web literally come from opposite coasts. The symbolism is pretty obvious and poignant to me.

Anyways, I guess what appeals to me about Webgott is their similarities and differences and how these dichotomies produce a dynamic with a lot of potential for understanding and misunderstanding. You’re right that they’re not exactly friends and they’re not exactly enemies, but while this seems to put you off this is the whole appeal to me. They exist in this liminal space where they’re constantly feeling each other out and fighting to understand each other and correcting their assumptions of each other. It’s not easy, but there’s a draw there because they’re so inexplicable to one another. They’re mirrors to each other in a lot of ways. They’re both their own people. They both have this complex capacity for love and violence. I see them both as very passionate individuals with a lot of inner turmoil, and I think they could find love and comfort in each other if only they could break down each other’s walls or be brave enough to lower them themselves.

Ships should have conflict to be interesting. There should be some sort of barrier to having the perfect relationship or else the whole objective of storytelling and narrative is a pointless exercise. That gives people something to write about and chew on. And I think with Webgott there’s a lot to chew on.

#making me write long ass essays lord save me #webgott #ask #anonymous