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boysbeloving · 6 months

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mile has been putting up posts of everything that's recently wrong in his life and i feel like giving him the biggest and warmest hug (and telling him that it's most likely because of the eclipse season that just went by and that it's not him🙈🤣)

his ipad was bent

he revealed he lost his custom-made MP ring in Paris (Paris is now on my shitlist for this reason btw....not a romantic city anymore....it is now associated with loss)

one of the headlights of his car was not working

his luggage's zip got wonky

and today one of the tyres of his car is giving him trouble

he's been whining on insta reels POOR BB!!!

i just want him to take some time for himself and not spend that time buying or playing guitars and just take stock of his things...and get them fixed before the damage happens...i say this coz he's got an entire fucking plaza to run (??)....i mean...ofc he has a team etc but still it's his business (right?....it's not his dad's right? idek lol i just know he's INVOLVED in the business big time)

just....take care mile

#also for what it's worth #mile honey #we're through with all the eclipses for the year i think.....so it should only get better <3 #mile phakphum #someone give him some time to FIX THINGS #i'm so bitter about his MP ring I REALLY LOVED THAT RING SO FUCKING MUCH #i'd have gifted it to him again myself if i lived close by and actually had him in my life #the new ring is okay #the band of the ring looks like a watch's wristband sooooo.....#ANYWAY #just be careful while driving mile...please check the functioning of your car properly before taking it out #otherwise just take a taxi #who am i kidding mile would have more than one car lol okay okay yeah #kinnporsche

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lm-tomatito · 4 months

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Aaa, finally, Christmas time everyone!!✨ Been working on this one for a long time :'D

I wasn't sure about adding Surge, Kit and Cosmo since everyone else is from the games, but I mean, why not lol They're all supposed to be a bit older too, in part because I wanted to try alt designs for them I guess.

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sunlightmurdock · 29 days

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The Odyssey | 1.5 | Bradley Bradshaw

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chapter moodboard

Bradley learns that maybe the two of you weren’t on the same page after all.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, power imbalance (professor / student relationship), age gap (22 / 33), swearing, infidelity, nudity, mentions of erections, making out. Semi-oral (f receiving), touching, mentions of sex. Ohhh boy you thought it was all okay. Wc: 5.8k

It didn’t feel like seven days at the Gabris estate. It felt like so much longer. A whole summer, even. The sunny day down at the lake, and then two whole days of rainstorms, and the day that Teodora showed you how to know which apricots are the sweetest to pick, the day that Zoe twisted her ankle on the crumbling back steps. The night by the piano.

This morning.

Luke must know where Bradley is, after he didn’t go to their room last night. Maybe he would think Bradley fell asleep in the study, but he isn’t that stupid.

Of course, Bradley is here with you. He fell asleep here last night, shortly after you had. He’s still asleep now, breathing deeply against the crook of your neck, his thigh slotted between yours and his palm on your stomach.

You haven’t been awake long.

It’s a warm, sunny morning and you can hear Sandro’s wife singing in the kitchen downstairs. Bradley smells like summer. You twist in his arms and turn your face toward his neck, breathing in the citrus and faint sweat and remainders of his cologne.

Bradley wakes to the feeling of your lips soft against his neck, and your fingers stroking at the hair at his nape.

Instantly, he realises that he didn’t make it back to his own bed last night, but he can’t find it in himself to mind. His arms snake around your middle and he squeezes you closer. He’s in your room. Not only that, but he’s in your bed. You’re laying on your side, the textbook half squished under you. The two of you fell asleep studying. He’s still fully clothed, and that’s what matters.

He lifts his arm and squints to check his watch. It’s still early. The two of you slept almost all night. Lowering his wrist, he startles once more to find that your eyes are now open. You blink tiredly at him.

“We fell asleep.” You mumble, barely awake. Your legs stretch out from under you as you push yourself onto your back and inch away from him. You’re close enough that all you can smell is his cologne. Each inhale tempts you towards letting your heavy eyelids just fall shut, letting your cheek rest against the muscle of his shoulder.

“Morning,” You murmur against his neck.

He kisses lazily at your temple. “Good morning, honey.”

Last night, Bradley had touched you again. The two of you had been sitting on your bed, and you were teaching him the Wall Street way of playing poker — as skilfully learned from your time watching your father — and Bradley had, so crudely, wagered your underwear.

They are laying, discarded, on the floor of your room now.

It feels good, pretending that none of this matters. That he is allowed to touch you, and lay with you, and kiss you.

“Did you sleep okay?” One of his palms pressed firmer into the middle of your back, flattening you against his chest as he turns his face toward your neck.

“Like the dead.” You mumble against his warm skin, resting your cheek against his clavicle. He hums amusedly.

For a moment, you let it be quiet. He’s still on the cusp of sleep, barely awake and groggy. Your fingers skim up the swell of his bicep and across the scarred skin on his shoulder, onto the muscled plains of his back.

He hums at the feeling, letting you know that he’s enjoying the soft touch. Maybe you’re enjoying it just as much. His skin there is soft, and always warm. You reach for freckles that you can’t see, guided by the ridges of his shoulder blades.

“I could stay like this forever.” You whisper. He makes a tired sound of agreement as he rubs the sleep from his eyes.

Sighing as he pulls his hands from his face, he pulls back and lets himself look at you. Settled down against the pillow, just watching him. Studying him.

Eyes heavy and blinking at him. Lips parted just slightly, like you’ve got something to say. The warmth of your skin. The look in your eye. The fact that he knows your underwear are still on the floor.

Bradley moves before he really weighs up what he’s doing. Eclipsing your jaw with his palm, you hold your breath as he leans in and kisses your top lip.

It’s slow, but the feelings it sends through you aren’t. The soft weight of his chest pressing into yours, just a taste of what the real thing could feel like.

Another slow kiss, his fingers curling around the nape of your neck, pulling you closer. You comply eagerly, pressing into his touch. His knee slides between yours, finding leverage on the mattress between your thighs.

Your mind skips ahead of you, flooding the darkness behind your eyelids with images of him that night with Natasha. His hands inching along the backs of her bare thighs. The need coursing through them, pressing close to each other with each kiss.

His warmth is inviting, intoxicating. His palm sits heavy on your cheek as you shuffle impossibly closer to him. He welcomes you against him, covering you with a fraction of his weight. Bradley likes strong women. Experienced women.

You rush forwards, chasing his mouth, grabbing at his shoulder, tugging him closer. He follows your lead wordlessly, carding his open palm over your hair, teasing his tongue along your lip.

It occurs to you that this could be the first time that you ever have sex. Everything you’ve been so afraid of. Ashamed of. Enveloped, hidden away by the strong feeling of his hands on your body.

It could happen. All that’s stopping you is his underwear, and the fact that he told you he wouldn’t. But he wants to. He told you he wants to.

A greedy hum passes your lips, caught against his. Your fingers slide from his shoulder into his hair before you can remind yourself that this isn’t right.

At first, Bradley thinks that he’s imagining things. There’s no way. But then, it happens again just as it had the first time. Your hips shift at just the right angle — the third time is just too much for it to be a coincidence, you’re grinding against his thigh.

A low grumble fights its way from his chest and into his throat, his hands sprinting for you like the snap of a rubber band, grabbing you tightly by your hips. It crosses his mind that he’s moving too fast and considers pulling back to check. Before his mind can land on an answer, your hand tousles into his curls and grabs firmly.

Even all of those too-big shirts he wears, nothing could really hide the fact that Bradley just remains to be a big guy. Tall, wide shoulders, long legs and a strong middle. He reminds you of his strength, dragging you against him by your hips. The brown hair that dusts his thigh brushes the inside of your thighs, the apex of your legs.

“How’s that?” Bradley asks as his thumb brushes a strand of hair back off of your temple.

Heat flushes instantly across your face. Bradley sees it in the calculated way that your eyes widen just slightly. The way he feels your fingers flex at the nape of his neck.

“It’s fine.” You bite back. Bradley should have known that even in a time like this, you would still be fighting him for the upper hand. Not tonight, honey. His words cross your mind, this time tinged with the resentment and shame your mind has coated them in.

You’re certain that he hasn’t ever told Natasha no in her entire life.

He trails his tongue along the seam of your lips, slow and soft, then brushes forwards and captures your mouth into a bruising kiss. He barely even pulls back to speak, his lips brushing yours. “Tell me what you want.”

You whimper. His massive hands and their hold on your hips, rocking you against the denim of his jeans. It’s impossible to think straight. “I don’t know.”

“I know what I want.” Bradley tells you, tucking his thumb under your chin and angling your jaw so that he can bite at your throat. The action has you keening against him, eagerly following the direction of his thumb so that his mouth can reach more of your throat.

It’s cruel honestly, everything he’s doing to you. He’s the first man to tell you that he wants you. Not because you’ve been together a while and it’ll happen eventually. Because he thinks you’re sexy. He’s attracted to you. He wants you. And fuck, his voice is so deep. “Tell me what you want.”

“I — Bradley, I don’t —“ You sigh, huffing a deep and frustrated noise as he sucks warmly at your skin. “I want you to touch me… I think.”

“You think?” Bradley’s hand sits against the backside of your thigh, warm, his long fingers splayed out along your skin. His lips barely have to move before he’s sucking at your neck. His warm mouth, languid against your skin. Swiftly, he curls his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips and tugs you against him, working you against his thigh.

The friction ignites something. Something you’ve felt before. The kindling is hot but it’s all white smoke for now. Blinking, you stare up at him with a decision to make. He squeezes your hips.

“I do. I do want you to touch me.”

The expectation is that he’ll pull back and tear your nightdress up out of his way and have his way with you. Bradley nips at your throat compliantly, kissing his way down your jaw and your throat.

He tips you onto your back and follows suit, settling between your thighs. The morning sun covers him in gold, from the flecks in his irises and the strands in his curls to the tanned swell of his shoulders. He mouths at your collarbones, following the sweetheart neckline of your nightie, palming at your thighs.

A moan tangles from your lips as he flattens himself against your body, his bulge between your legs and his hot chest against your skin.

Bradley dips his hand between your bodies and feels you finally. He sighs against your chest, smiling. “Oh, honey.”

Your heartbeat thuds. His fingers graze your swollen clit and you jolt a bit, otherwise stuck to the spot by his weight.

“No wonder you want me right here,” He murmurs, gathering your excitement on the tips of his fingers. “All worked up. Don’t worry, honey. I’ve got you.”

You drop your head back onto the pillows, feeling electricity rush through your middle as Bradley circles your clit with a featherlight touch. A whimper slips your mouth despite your best efforts, despite your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“I want to do it.”

And then you have his attention. He looks up at you, his face stark and the smugness that had settled there all gone.

“Yeah?” He swallows, so hard already that he’s aching. Far from in the mind space to really disagree with you. His brows draw together. “It?”

This time yesterday, you probably would have said no. Maybe even last night, you would have.

This morning, it’s a breathless and desperate, “Yes.”

“I don’t —“ Bradley squeezes at your thigh and shakes his head. “Baby, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“It’s just one step further than this,” You tell him, convincing yourself as much as you’re convincing him. “Doesn’t make it any different. It doesn’t change what we’ve already done, right?”

In these past seven days, Malcolm has never felt as far away. After what he did, what he must have done, you’ve never felt as far from him as you do now. He’s probably been looking for a phone number to contact you, and you’re glad that he hasn’t found one.

You don’t want to speak to him. In this moment, all that you want is right in front of you.

“But…” He swallows thickly, trying not to be driven by how badly he wants this. He taps his thumb against your chin. “You’re — You’re sure, this is what you want?”

“Uh-huh.”

He hesitates, planting a hand into the pillow beside your head. His face is knotted up and unsure. A week ago you had been crying in his arms after the biggest betrayal of your life. This can’t be the right thing to do.

He glances down, feeling your fingers brushing along the ridges of his abdomen.

Your lip throbs with the weight of your teeth pressing into it as your fingers dip into the waistband of his white boxer shorts. Bradley’s breath catches as your fingers wrap around his hardened length.

“Please?”

A deep sound passes his lips. How’s a guy supposed to say no to that? He leans in slowly, capturing your lip between his, his tense body melting against yours.

He groans as he pulls away from your mouth and moves downward. Your hand slips from his underwear and finds purchase against his shoulder.

He kisses down your cheek and your jaw, spilling dirty kisses along the naked span of your chest as far as the nightgown will let him as his hands bunch at the bottom hem of it.

Your mouth hangs as he hunches over and pins your thighs back.

Glistening in the warm glow of the room, you writhe and wriggle beneath Bradley as his strong hands pin you down, lazily swirling his tongue along your puffy, swollen clit.

“I said — I want—“ You stumble, your brows knitting together.

“I know what you want,” Bradley interrupts, turning his head and kissing at your thigh, silencing you all together as he looks up at you with those big brown eyes. “There’s no rush. Right?”

You guess not. You don’t have time to guess at much before his broad shoulders force apart your thighs and his hot mouth blanks your mind.

A whine spills from somewhere deeper in your throat, coming right from the pit of your stomach. Bradley’s messy with his work, lapping eagerly between your legs as his middle finger teases at your dripping pussy. He hasn’t ever done it like this.

It’s more desperate now, but like it’s easy for him, like he knows you. His chin drips with your excitement, leaving your thighs sticky and dampened with slick and saliva.

His hand slips between his hips and the mattress, wrapping loosely around his cock over his boxers, grinding his hips into his hand.

And then, three knocks rattle the heavy, old door to your right.

Bradley stops, and sits back on his knees at once. Your face is colorless, eyes wide and round. He runs a hand over his wet mouth, and turns his head towards the sound.

“Fuck.” He exhales, his lips hinting at a smile. As much as he should look just as scared shitless as you do, something in him finds this a little bit funny.

He’s expecting it to be your new best buddies, wanting you to come down to breakfast with them. Already deciding that he can handle hiding behind the door while you get rid of them, Bradley couldn’t be cooler.

Three more knocks rattle the old door on its hinges, and Sandro calls out from the other side. “Bradley?”

Instantly, the smile is wiped from Bradley’s face.

You scramble to cover yourself and close your legs and move, not quite as aware of your surroundings as you could be. As Bradley goes to move at the same time, your knee lifts and catches him squarely in the balls.

Sandro pushes his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he hears a loud, strained grunt come from inside.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry — I didn’t—“

Bradley lifts his face out of the pillow and swallows as he adjusts himself, exhaling heavily. “It’s fine. Fuck— what the hell is the matter with him?”

Matter with him in the sense that he is impolite enough to know exactly where Bradley is, and what that must mean, and to be knocking on the door anyway.

You watch as Bradley stumbles to his feet, clearly wounded, still clutching at his manhood as he picks up his jeans.

“You can’t — you’re going to answer the door?” You panic.

“What else do you want me to do? Hide?” He huffs, struggling to pull his jeans up his legs and button them.

“You could go out the window.”

He shoots you a look, entirely unimpressed. You open your mouth to protest, left with no time to do anything but squeak softly in defeat as he pulls open the door an inch, blocking it with his body.

“What?”

Sandro presses his lips together. He looks Bradley up and down. Disheveled, his curls a mess and still naked from the navel upward.

“There’s someone on the phone for you.” Sandro explains quietly. Bradley’s brows knit together as he starts to wonder who could possibly be trying to reach him this early in the morning. “Her father. I believe.”

A quiet gasp comes from behind the door. Bradley closes it a little more, slotting himself into the gap.

“Cool. I’ll be right there.”

“Sure. He sounds upset.” Sandro lifts his palms and shrugs as he takes a step back from the door, his mouth twitching. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Ha. Ha.” Bradley answers, unimpressed.

He swings the door shut, and flattens himself back against the wood as he pinches at the bridge of his nose. You remain in the middle of the bed, your knees tucked up to your chest, your hand covering your mouth.

“Fuck me.” Bradley sighs, leaning his head back against the door. He stretches his hand into the pocket of his jeans and plucks his cigarettes from the pocket, shaking his head. “Does he have a monitor on you that I don’t know about?”

He almost makes you smile, but you’re wincing as you slip out of bed and stand up.

“Let me speak with him,” You offer, walking nervously toward him. “He’s just going to be rude if he’s asking for you. I’ll handle it.”

“And miss out on telling him what an incredible morning we had?” Bradley jokes, unlit cigarette wobbling between his lips as he steps around you and reaches for his shirt. You stumble mid-step, practically pouncing on him as you grab at his arm.

“No! You can’t tell him anything.” You plead.

Bradley turns and looks at you over his shoulder, brows furrowed in disbelief.

“Believe it or not, honey — I’m not itching to have that talk with your dad. I was kidding.” He scoffs, pulling his t-shirt over his head and running his fingers messily through his hair. “You should pack your stuff. I’ll… see you later.”

“Wait!” You frown at him. “But we were…”

Bradley seems to remember his moment of insanity then — of how close he was to actually doing it just a moment ago, and blinks at you. He plucks the cigarette from his lips and leans forward to leave a passive kiss to your temple.

“Another time,” He sets it between his lips again and digs his left hand into his pocket for a lighter. “Gotta go.”

Another time. Gotta go. The door swings shut behind him and the smell of burning tobacco fills your nose as he light’s the cigarette out in the hallway. You hate that smell. You hate how casually he just moved on from that. And oh, you could kill Alessandro.

“Hello?” Bradley pins the receiver between his ear and shoulder as he pulls the ashtray from the window ledge and flicks the tip of his cigarette toward it.

“That’s how you answer the phone? — You don’t introduce yourself, or ask who you’re speaking with? Mumbling over there—“

Bradley perches against the window and sets his cigarette back between his lips. “I know who I’m speaking with. Sir. How can I help you?”

“I want to know what kind of operation you’re running over there. There’s no contact number for this place anywhere on the itinerary, and then when I do finally track down a number, I spend two days calling and get nothing but a dead line!”

“We had some bad weather, unfortunately it knocked out the power. Just got it back on last night, actually.” Bradley explains calmly.

“And you think that’s acceptable? — What if it was an emergency?”

“Was it?” Bradley prompts. Maybe he has a little bit of an attitude, but he doesn’t like the way your father talks to people.

“You think you’re funny, son?”

No, generally Bradley doesn’t think that he’s too funny. He’s a lot of things, and he’s got a good sense of humour but he’s not funny like Robin Williams or Chevy Chase. But, Bradley’s got a special knack for always being able to get the last word.

“I think the house is five hundred years old and has some pretty questionable wiring. Was there something you needed me for?”

“You know that I can have you fired?”

Bradley leans his head back and thunks it against the window frame. He can’t blame you for the attitude you catch when this is the guy you learned it from.

“In the interest of preserving my good friend’s phone bill, I’m just trying to be… concise, here.” Bradley answers, flicking more ash into the tray. If this phone call keeps going the way that it is, Bradley figures he’ll be chain smoking through until the afternoon.

“My son-in-law has been trying to get through to my daughter. He’s… worried about her. Has she said anything to you?”

Said something pretty interesting to me earlier, Bradley thinks. Right around the time she stuck her hand in my shorts.

“No, sir. Maybe her friends, but not me,” Bradley gives the answer you would want him to give. “We’re headed to Siena this afternoon and the city’s a lot more reliable for communication and stuff. I can have her call you once we’re there?”

“No. Don’t tell her that I called.” Your father decides. Bradley doesn’t mention that you already know, because he was in your room when he was informed. “What’s the number for this place?”

“I don’t have it on me. I can take down your number and I’ll call you from the hotel when we get there.”

“Not very organised for a college professor, are you, champ?”

Bradley wets his lips with his tongue and presses them together. He spends as little time on the phone as he possibly can, resenting your father’s every word. He likes the thought of Malcolm sitting at home and tearing his hair out, worrying.

He likes the thought of that little dirtbag being kept awake at night, terrified that you know what he did and that you’ll leave him. It’s what he deserves.

Bradley likes that you fell asleep in his arms last night, peacefully, and that you woke up this morning and found yourself comfortable enough to ask for what you had. Your fiancé probably didn’t cross your mind.

He goes for his morning run a little later than normal, after his phone call, and thinks about what you had said.

He shouldn’t have agreed to it as quickly as he had, maybe. It should have required more thought, and discussion — better place or time, perhaps.

He had been so adamantly against it, but this is starting to feel different. It’s more than a few kisses here and there. It’s Bradley enjoying feeling your weight in his arms when he sleeps, and looking forward to your smile when he wakes up.

It’s better, with him. Your first time would be better with him — and he doesn’t even mean that in an overconfident way. He just knows that he and Malcolm are far from the same, and that Malcolm could never treat you the way that Bradley does so naturally.

Bradley decides that he won’t initiate anything other than a discussion on the topic of sex. As much as he does want it, he could go for months without it. And this has to be your call. But, he doesn’t want to know what sparked the idea into your head this morning.

If you ask him again, he already knows that he would do it.

By the time he has finished with your father and with his run, it’s almost time to go. The group of eight of you are spread around the mini-can, bags loaded and waiting for Bradley while Pasquale sits in the front. It’s a really short drive today. Just over an hour to the other side of the city.

“Did anyone else get their assignments back late all the time?” Abigail muses as she lays across the three backseats of the van. You’re sitting a row in front of her, fiddling with your Walkman.

“Even when I was TA’ing, and I’d get my grading in on time, Bradley still gave everyone their results back like a week later.” Robin agrees.

“Yeah, ‘cause he was too busy slipping it to Miss Penny all year.” Luke scoffs without looking up from his chapter on bathhouses, his arms stretched around Robin’s middle as she sits on his lap.

Instinct almost has you whipping around to look at him. Common sense has you gripped to the spot, staring at the little plastic contraption . You blink furiously at the cassette tape in front of you.

Miss Penny. Who the hell is Miss Penny? Granted, you hadn’t spent too much time wandering the humanities building, but you’re affronted to not be able to picture this mystery woman nonetheless.

“No— Miss Penny? No. Please, like Bradley would ever tell you who he’s screwing.” August — Gus —, the only other guy in your little group of eight, scoffs towards Luke. He’s standing outside of the van, leaning up against the doorframe.

“And if he was making it with anyone, it was for sure Doctor Hayes. Have you seen the two of them talking? — Man, even I felt the tension.” Zoe decides.

Screwing. Slipping it to. Making it.

And now the introduction of Doctor Hayes.

At least this woman you have heard of; she’s an anthropology professor, and she certainly wasn’t making it with Bradley — she’s happily involved with a woman.

It was a big point of conversation in your household. The news came to light just before your father was going to make a donation, she visited him personally to ensure that her romantic indiscretions wouldn’t affect his generosity.

If Bradley wasn’t screwing Doctor Hayes, then he probably wasn’t—

“You’re right, they were probably just friends,” Luke shrugs, again without looking up from the book. It should soothe you, but it doesn’t. It’s an arrogant thing, the way he knows everyone’s waiting on his every word, so he doesn’t have to lift his gaze to engage. “Doesn’t change the fact I saw them going at it in his office.”

When you look up you’re startled by Robin already looking at you, like she just stole the crayon you’ve been waiting for and she’s waiting for your tantrum to begin.

You glance across at Luke instead, who is still staring smugly at his chapter.

They already think that Bradley is screwing you, maybe they’re making it up to get a reaction.

You muster the calmest look that you can, and flip back a page in your notes, pretending that you’re reviewing the material.

You haven’t ever been to Bradley’s office. There’s a vague understanding of approximately where it is that comes with having spent four years wandering those halls, but in a pinch you would be guessing at exactly where.

You don’t know what his desk looks like, or if he’s got one of those frosted glass window panes in the door, or maybe it’s just a heavy wood door without a window.

Some of the old rooms still have those. They’re heavy and creaky and your daddy’s donations are eradicating them one by one.

Those big, heavy, creaky doors would do wonders for someone in need of privacy. As your eyes fall shut to blink, you’re met with a split-second snapshot of Luke nudging it open.

After hours, after a day of tough lessons. Bradley all stressed with that red flush across his chest that he gets when stuff is really starting to get to him. Miss Penny, in her mysterious shroud of fog… perched against his desk— or worse— bent over it.

You swallow.

“No you did not.” Abigail declares with a wrinkled face, not believing the dirty little story for a moment.

You would like to not believe it either.

“Uh-huh. It was when I was TA’ing, I came by to drop off some papers. She was sat on his desk with her back to the door and he was just—“

“Gross, I don’t want to hear about Bradley getting his rocks off with the librarian.” Zoe complains.

The librarian. Miss Penny is the fucking librarian. She has permed hair and cat-eye glasses, a skirt shorter than faculty standard allows too. She made you pay eight dollars in late fees one time. She’s like a decade older than Bradley, maybe fifteen years.

Your nose wrinkles as you turn your head to peer in the direction of the kitchen. Why her? Why—

“Alright, everybody ready to go?” Bradley has said his long goodbyes to the Gabris family, always wishing he got longer with them, even if Sandro did cockblock him this morning.

He climbs into the passenger seat as an awkward silence fills the van. Everyone takes their seats and stares ahead at him. He turns his head to peer back over his shoulder, frowning in confusion.

“What?”

“Nothing, man,” Luke answers coolly as Robin slides into the seat next to him. “You’re paranoid.”

Another time. Gotta go. You bet he was that casual with Miss Penny, too. With however many other women he might have been with. You set your headphones over your ears and turn toward the window.

It’s ridiculous, maybe, to be jealous of women that knew Bradley far before you could ever stand to be in the same room as him. But this isn’t jealousy, per se. It’s something else. You don’t doubt that Miss Penny didn’t mean much to him, you just… were hoping that you meant more, maybe.

The drive is short, and you’re piling into another old, crumbling hotel on the outskirts of Siena as the sun is just starting to set. You follow the crowd into the lobby and Bradley starts his normal routine of collecting the keys.

At first, you’re chatting with Zoe, and nothing feels different. Then, you catch something in your peripheral. Glancing down, your eyes widen and your train of thought ventures away.

“My ring.” You realise, setting your suitcase down on the faded carpet of the lobby. Bradley turns around, and finds you staring at your bare hand.

“I don’t have my ring.” You haven’t worn that thing since the first day you got there. Bradley has noticed every single day that you haven’t had it.

“What?” Pasquale frowns, looking between you and your hand.

“My engagement ring!” You snap at him. Everyone, at once, stops to look. Bradley stares at you. “I don’t— I must have left it! We have to go back.”

“Jesus Christ.” Luke scoffs, rolling his eyes as he drops down onto the couch. He figures he could be here a while, while you’re descending into hysterics.

After speaking to your father, Bradley figured he knows why you’re so upset. If you come home without that thing, he would give you the worst lecture known to man, or worse than that, even.

“I’ll call Sandro, and see—“ He takes two steps towards you, his face soft.

“No, I need to get it back. Now. We have to go back.”

“Mr. Bradshaw has a meeting here tomorrow, very early.” Pasquale chips in from beside you.

“I don’t care! I can’t believe I left it— Malcolm’s going to kill me if I tell him I don’t have it. What am I supposed to tell him? — That I took it off?”

You’re not thinking about your father, or getting into trouble with him. Bradley stops moving. You’re thinking about your fiancé.

Bradley has been comforting you, and singing to you, and kissing you for a week straight — not once thinking that you might one day want to wear that ring again.

This morning, he had been fooling himself on his run, thinking that this was anything more than fooling around. That he meant anything to you at all. That you understood him.

He stares at you, finding none of those feelings he had thought you felt this morning. Or last night, or this whole past week.

Nothing but blind panic, because you weren’t smart enough to double check you had everything.

“Didn’t you?” Robin asks.

“Just for a second! I— I — didn’t mean to.” You struggle, eyes wide and fleeting between Bradley and Pasquale.

That’s not true. You took it off because he hurt you. You haven’t worn it in seven days. You didn’t even think about it this morning when you had packed your things, or before that when Bradley had been in your bed.

You’re growing agitated, and so is Bradley. A muscle in his jaw ticks. You meant to take off that ring, and maybe you can’t admit to yourself that you meant to leave it behind.

“Maybe they could mail it—“ Pasquale tries.

“Do you seriously expect me to go home without it?” You’re looking at Bradley still, like this is his fault somehow. Like he’s the one who took it off of your finger. Your expression turns cold. “That ring is worth more than you make in a year!”

Bradley’s expression flattens. No hurt, no anger. Just pure detachment. He holds his hand out towards Pasquale.

“Give me the keys.”

“But, Bradley, you have—“

“Give me the fucking keys,” Bradley snaps. Zoe flinches at your side, and you feel her looking at you. Pasquale awkwardly drops the keys into Bradley’s open palm. “I’m going to get the ring, if it’ll shut her up.”

Your mouth closes, lips pressing firmly together.

“I’ll—“

“You stay right there.” Bradley bites. He can’t think of anything worse than being stuck in a van with you for the next two and a half hours. Without looking, he squeezes the keys into his palm and heads for the door.

With him gone, you’re the only thing for them all to look at.

None of them knew exactly what was going on between you and Bradley this whole time, but they’re all certain of the same thing now: whatever it was, they all just witnessed the end of it.

tags: @thedroneranger @batdanceq @cassiemitchele @himbos-on-ice @wkndwlff @bradshawsbaby @damrlova @fudge13 @xoxabs88xox @mak-32 @sihtricswife @callsignvenus @callsign-joyride @harper1666 @krismdavis @sheisanangell @cherrycola27 @kmc1989 @sugarcoated-lame @mshistorylover

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #miles teller #bradley bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw imagine #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw au #professor bradley x honey #professor bradley

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justhavinfunnn · 2 months

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Miles @ the Vanity Fair Oscar party 2024

#miles honey you look good #miles teller #vanity fair oscar party

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the-cat-and-the-birdie · 9 months

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The Hobie Brown Punk Playbook - Part 2. - What is Punk? (Punk 101)

A short series where I analyze the political, historical, musical, and romantic influences of Hobie Brown, and how it affects his arc, design, and character.

1) Anarchism 101 / 2) Punk 101 / 3) Hobie Characterization Guide (How to Write Hobie) /4) Punk & Hobie's Design / 5) Romance in the 70's __________________________________________________________

Clueless about punk? Know nothing about the 70's? Or wanna learn more? Start here! In the last part I examined Anarchy and what makes Hobie Anarchy personified. And next, I think it's only natural to turn my attention to the thing that makes Spider-punk - punk.

In this part I'm examining what punk is, why the movement was created, what punks believe, and what they stand against.

This is an analysis of Punk, 70's History, and why it makes Hobie who he is.

______________________________________________

Punk -

What is it? What 'makes' you a punk? And should Punk be Gatekept?

Punk can be hard to define - and that's by design. With the whole 'hates labels' thing considered, it's understandable. It may be easy to feel like punk as a concept is confusing, or daunting to even grasp.

But remember, Punk is made for the people - and it's made to be accessible and understandable to all people, of every class and ability - so I hope I can help!

Punk as a Subculture What is a sub-culture? Is a sub-culture the same as an aesthetic?

Punk is a 'sub-culture' - a specific type often called a 'counter-culture'.

In basic terms, a subculture is a lifestyle.

Goths, Punks, Vegans, Nudists, Surfers and even things like the LGBTQ+ community are considered subcultures.

Subcultures effect many things such as they way you dress or your taste in music, and your hobbies. But subcultures can also effect things like your morals, political affiliation, identity, behaviors, and the spaces you exist in.

Subcultures are usually based around morals (Veganism, Punk, Straight Edge.), hobbies (Surfers, Stoners, Ravers), or identities (LGBTQ+ and African-American culture). By engaging in activities, a manner of dress, or a patter on behavior in a subculture, it becomes is way to outwardly express your beliefs and feelings - while also connecting with people who feel the same.

For example - Although Surfers are united through a hobby in specific, it'd be safe to assume that a surfer would, naturally, be pro-conservation, pro-animal rights, and anti-pollution. A surfer that promotes ocean trash dumping seems weird, right? That's because the surfer subculture has a political identity defined by the movement's past. Although a surfer surfs - what makes them a 'surfer' as a opposed to 'someone who surfs' is their participation in a culture that includes other things besides surfing, such as music, dress, and even the way they live - like choosing to live beach side or convert to vanlife, choosing to live off very little, etc. They may do some or all of those things, but all their core, what makes them a 'surfer' is their hobby, beliefs, and dedication.

The same way the Surfer 'Lifestyle' is more than just surfing, the Punk 'Lifestyle' is more than just music.

Punk is a subculture, a counterculture specifically. But what does that mean?

What's a counter-culture?

A counterculture is a subculture that arises to directly challenge a societal norm.

Not all subcultures are countercultures; but a lot are.

For example - Drag-racing is a subculture that exists around a hobby. By racing they are engaging in a subculture, but they're not directly trying to challenge society. Whereas on the other hand - Someone who is Straight Edge is consciously choosing not to drink - and consciously choosing to identify as straight edge in addition the being sober - in order to challenge societal norms and behaviors around drinking and drugs.

Most counter-cultures arise in response to a political event or social development.

Is a subculture and an aesthetic the same thing?

No. Subcultures and Aesthetics differ in one way -

A subculture displays and effects identity. An aesthetic does not.

What I mean is - a subculture effects your beliefs, thinking, behaviors or political alignment. An aesthetic does not.

For example - Hippy is a subculture because it encompasses a thought system. When you see a hippy - its safe to assume that they are anti-war and liberal. A 'republican hippy' seems absurd, because inherently, there is a moral and political align attached to the movement. Whereas on the otherhand - Emo is an aesthetic because it does not encompass a thought system - It is has no moral or political attachments. Although it includes a manor of dress and music the same way hippie may - it lacks moral implication. Because of that 'republican emo' is not contradictory - whereas a 'republican hippy' is.

Because of this, it usually makes no sense to judge someone based on their aesthetic. On the other hand, as the fashion, music, and style go hand in hand with it's politics, it's safe to assume and judge aspects of someone based on their subculture or counterculture. Punk is a counterculture - so it inherently has moral connotations - tied directly to the historical events the influenced it.

While someone being emo may not tell you much about who they are as a person, Hobie being a punk can tell us a lot about who he is!

[I talk more about Punk, subcultures, and aesthetics here.]

Now that we understand countercultures and their function, let's look at punk in specific.

Punk - Basic Roots & Definition

By objective definition:

Punk is a counterculture that developed around the 1970's primarily in the cities of London and New York. Made up of almost exclusively of lower- and working-class folks of all ages - the movement grew in response to a couple of different political events throughout the 70's, all of which shaped the message and lifestyle that would become punk. Mainly centered around government corruption, surveillance, and anti-communism in the Western World, these events inspired a movement of anti-government, anti-war, anti-surveillance, and anti-capitalism.

With World War 2 ending in 1945, the world was left in a world divided between capitalism and communism.

With the start of The Vietnam war in 1955 (don't fret, I'll explain), average people were growing tired of the seemingly endless wars, and the corrupted, secretive governments that commanded them.

This gave way to the hippy movement - an anti-war counterculture centered around radical peace and pacifism. But as the Vietnam War stretch through the 60's and into the 70's, the hippy movement and it's pacifism waned.

As the CIA began to squash protests, and Western governments engaged in more corruption and espionage - the pacifism turned to anger, and the outcry turned to music.

What came next was Punk.

Now that we understand the roots of Punk - let's do a quick run down of the historical events that influenced it, and the beliefs that arised from it.

Before we begin, keep in mind that these are all events that Hobie would live through - and have opinions about. Born somewhere between 1958 and 1961, and living in 1978 (according to his intro mugshot) - all of these things would have an effect on Hobie, the way he was raised, and the struggles he had to face.

All of them have a really cool influence on Hobie and the punk movement, so let's take a look -

1978 Punk - Basic Historical Events & Beliefs

The Vietnam War (1955 - 1975) - A war between the Communist North Vietnam and Capitalist South Vietnam. In order to ensure the spread of Capitalism, the United States government crossed the globe into foreign borders in an attempt to secure victory for North Vietnam. They committed a LOT of atrocities that still effect the Vietnamese people to this day. In addition, The US government participated in drafting during this time. Eventually, the Communist Resistance proved victorious, and the country of Vietnam is currently communist. Resulting Punk Belief - Anti-Capitalism, Anti-War, Anti-Colonialism, Anti-Draft, Pro-Communism, Pro-Armed Resistance (in response to North Vietnam's armed victory.)

The Rise of Margaret Thatcher (1975-2013) - Often called the most hated woman in all of Ireland and probably the UK too, Margaret Thatcher is one of the most influential British Prime Ministers of all time. Leader of the 'Tories' (Short for Conservative) since 1975, Margaret Thatcher took office in 1979. Which means in 1978 - when Hobie is - she would currently be running her campaign for Prime Minister. Margaret Thatcher largely contributed to the unrest and conflict within the British-occupied Northern Ireland, as well as hardship within the working-class in her own country. Even though she left office in 1990, it can easily be said her damage lasted until the day she died, and even beyond. When Hobie says he hates the PM. He without a doubt means her. Resulting Punk Belief - Anti-Government, Anti-Conservative, Anti-Colonialism, Pro-Armed Resistance (in response to the Irish Republican Army)

The Civil Rights Movement - It can be hard to believe that Hobie's life overlaps with that of the Civil Rights Movement - but it does! With Malcom X's assassination in 1965, MLK's assassination in 1968, and Fred Hampton's (Black Panther Party) assassination in 1969 - regardless of how you age him - Hobie's childhood was largely characterized by the death of many Civil Rights Leaders in America. Even despite being British himself, Hobie would directly face this for much of his childhood - as racial segregation was legal within the UK until 1965 (around the time he'd be 4-7, if you age him 17-20). However this era was also characterized by the rise of Black culture in media, whether it be Disco, Ballroom, The Black Panther Party or Blaxploitation Movies. Resulting Punk Belief - Starch Anti-Racism, Extreme Race Solidarity, Affirmative Action, Black Pride

Queer Liberation Wave 1 (1969-1979 and onward) - After spending years as an oppressed, underground subculture Queer Identity and it's liberation came to limelight throughout the 70's. The 70's began and ended with two of the most important events in Queer History - The Stonewall Riots and The White Night Riots. In 1969, New York City police officers raided and brutalized patrons at a popular pub called 'Stonewall'. Many trans people as well as a number of drag performers were being arrested for cross-dressing, which was illegal at the time. Stormé DeLarverie - a mixed-race drag king and butch lesbian, called out in anger and desperation at a crowd of onlookers, which incited the riot that is known as the beginnings of the Queer Liberation Movement. Stonewall Inn still exists until this day - and a year after it's anniversary - the first ever pride parade was started in NYC. Ten years later in 1979, a man named Harvey Milk was running for office in California. An openly-gay man and activist, Harvey was assassinated by a man named Dan White. When Dan was only lightly sentenced for this however, 100k people marched for Harvey's justice - sparking a night of violence and direct conflict with the police. Resulting Punk Belief - Anti-Police, Anti-Justice System, Anti-Bigotry, Anti-Homophobia, Queer Liberation

Other notable historical mentions that are just as important but probably too complicated and/or boring for me to talk about:The Cold War (1945 - forever probably) - The on-going and ever-evolving power struggle between Capitalism and Communism, The West and The East, and nuclear warfare. Yay. Particularly heated due to the Vietnam War, and conflicts in the Middle East. The Watergate Scandal and the Nixon tapes (1972) - The Nixon administration gets caught wiretapping an opponent's office. Nixon is caught on tape trying to cover this up. Tapes are leaked. Nixons resigns. The War on Drugs (1971 - forever probably) - The Nixon administration ignites 'The War on Drugs', a campaign for strict criminalization of drug use. Although a ploy to 'clean up streets' it's backwards logic actually led to more extreme drug conditions. In addition, it also overlapped with the CIA distributing cocaine and crack into Black communities in the 1980's so.... yeah the drugs won the war.

So, What does any of this have to do with Hobie Brown?

And Can Hobie be written better?

Now that we have a better understanding of the world that raised Hobie, when we look back at him, we can get a lot clearer view of who he is and what he probably believes.

[And if you need a second to look at him after reading this far I completely understand I do too here ya go]

With all that in mind, we can say:

Being born somewhere between 1959 and 1962, Hobie Brown is a black guy raised in an era of persistent conflict, growing conservatism, and on-going social change. His existence is resistance in and of itself.

History-wise:

Raised in the 60's and coming-of-age in the late 70's - Hobie's life has probably been characterized by persistent war, and a generation who met it with radical kindness and compassion.

Although Hobie is a punk himself, Punks and Hippies have roots in the same places and concerns - albeit it different approaches. But at their cores, they're about freedom - and compassion towards others who need it most.

Hippies centered their movement around kindness and non-violence, but also action through resilience, community, and peaceful protest. And Hobie may not believe in non-violence (which - he doesn't. He believes in violence let's be clear.) we can still see the influence of Hippies on his upbringing and behavior.

Throughout ATSV, Hobie's action are motivated and based on resilience within the face of an oppressive institution, and his actions of protests are direct ones - they're indirect, such as building community between him, Miles, and Gwen. His methodology is one of gaining intelligence and destabilizing from the inside.

Race-wise:

To put it blatantly, as this something I feel like isn't highlighted about his character enough-

Hobie would have direct and real experience and trauma around his race based on the time he's from.

And without a doubt, his race would be something he has a lot of pride in.

Hobie would be very vocally proud to be black.

For once, Hobie without a doubt would be raised in a time where racial discrimination and segregation was legal for the beginning of his childhood. He's raised by black people who have lived with this segregation and abuse for all of their lives. And despite the illegalization of segregation in 1965, many racist attitudes would still persist to his modern year.

But, this is Hobie we're talking about. Hobie also was raised in a time where pride in a black identity was stressed at every turn. He's a black guy in 1978. He has wicks. Those two things connect.

When you see his leather vest, your first thought may connect to Sex Pistols, or UK punks. But Black Panthers - a movement that existed all throughout his life, wore leather jackets just the same.

I believe the Panthers influence Hobie a lot too. Many know the Panthers for their direct conflict with police - and Assata Shakur (Tupac's Aunt) being a member.

But the Panthers were also ALL about community. In fact, they started a program to feed inner-city kids breakfast and lunch throughout summer. Many are still going across the country. {As a child, this program fed me and my schoolmates :) }

Hobie takes after them. He sees a younger black child in need of help, and he takes a break from fighting to help them, mentor them, and teach them about the cause. Hobie would absolutely have a Black Panther pin on his jacket!

This is something that is really just brushed over in fanfic and fandom and I'm hoping to write a piece about how to better characterize him because of this - but from here, let's keep this in mind!

Political-wise:

Hobie lived in a time of extreme change, progress, and political development. And to some, his methods may see just as extreme.

But now that we have a context for who he is and who he exists as, lets me transparent about it.

Growing up post-Hippy era, during the rise of conservatism in Britain - as a low-classer class black kid - Hobie's attitude towards activism would differ than those before him.

As most of the adult population seemed numb to war, and most of the Hippy subculture disbanded, outward rebellion and resistance would look a lot more pro-active in many ways, but just as thoughtful.

Hobie is very clearly an anarchist, but considering the political sphere of communism during the time as his behavior towards Miles and Gwen - I do believe he'd support communism, with anarchy being his primary stance and focus.

I honestly believe that Hobie would be pro-armed resistance. As Northern Vietnam and the IRA defended their homelands from foreign invasion, and the Black Panthers armed themself with guns against brutal police forces - Hobie's life would be colored with resistance through armed means.

Hobie uses his guitar as a weapon, both musically and physically, and he carries it openly. He doesn't need to do this. He's Spider-man. He choses to do this. I think Hobie would approve of the oppressed arming themselves, and that's why he does it himself.

And of course, he's anti-police or any form of military, militia, what have you. They are the arm of the state and exist only to target civilians with their will. I believe he would have no sympathy for police - as actual punks in his era had no sympathy for police. [And if he did (he doesn't) he'd be directly shunned by every other punk for doing so, because wtf.] But out of respect for the actual punks who inspired him, the Black activists brutalized, the queer people targeted, and all those who suffered under oppressive policing during this era (many of which are still alive and maybe even our parents), lets all agree Hobie outwardly and vocally hates police.

For many reasons. Many reasons personal and influenced by direct experience with him, or people he cares deeply about.

Please keep that in mind. It's quite literally impossible for Hobie to not be affected by these events to some extent.

Personality-wise:

This will be expanded in the next part - and of course this is just my opinion, but personality-wise, I think: Hobie is very politically educated and dedicated. And I feel like this is another thing that isn't highlighted enough or shown enough in fandom.

Hobie's morals, behavior, and methodology doesn't come from nowhere - and although they may be expressed in the music he listens to, the music itself is not the source.

It comes from direct experience with political action outside of being Spider-man.

Based on his deep understanding of anarchy and punk, we can guess that Hobie's very well-read, particularly in history and social theory. Both the IRA and North Vietnam were Marxist-Leninist, so it wouldn't be far of a leap to say that Hobie could be anarcho-communist.

Hobie would absolutely take the time to read - things like the Communist Manifesto, the Black Panther literature and other things.

In my opinion, from all of this - I can only assume Hobie is a reader, an avid one. He without a doubt participates in direct action outside of being SM - such as attending an anarchist/communist union, attending protests out of costume, organizing and planning meetings with other leftists, collecting and gathering supplies and food for those in need, squatting and securing housing for the homeless, and a lot of other things punks that aren't Spider-man do.

It kinda wouldn't make sense for him not to. He was a punk before he was Spider-man. When Hobie isn't being Spider-punk, and he's being a normal punk - if we try to consider how he spends his free time, a lot of the time our instinct is to imagine him and band. And that's a large part of Hobie.

But all of this is too. These are all things Hobie enjoys, because Hobie enjoys helping people. When Miles breaks free from the society, he's happy for him. It's all he wants.

_____________________________

When we genuinely put Hobie into these scenarios, it really helps to humanize him. We can all see the depth in his character, and that depth comes from a real, genuine place.

Like a punk opposing the draft, Hobie opposes the oppressive leader that mandates the trauma of youth. Like a Black Panther with their afro, Hobie wears his hair with pride.

All of these events contribute to him and who he is, and he shows it with everything he does and chooses to be.

I hope understanding these events helps you understand Hobie and his motives more - and I hoped this post helped you understand the history of punk more!

-------------------------------------------------------

This is UNGODLY long - and ungodly wordy. But if you read this far, thank you! And I hope it helped at all! If you learned anything or have any questions, please let me know! I'd love to hear your thoughts, insights, revelations, etc. As you can probably tell I love rambling about Hobie and I'm totally normal and functional and not at all obsessed.

Please stick thoughts of Hobie Brown in my enclosure. I promise I'm normal about him. Thanks again!

#honey wake up its 12am and a new analysis just dropped #let me know if you read till the end!#this SPENT me i hope this makes sense #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider punk #atsv #across the spiderverse #across the spider verse #spiderman #spider man #miles morales #gwen stacy #atsv analysis #marvel #itsv #hobart brown #Hobie Brown Punk Playbook

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sage-nebula · 5 months

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I've seen some people surprised that Kit feels murderous toward Tails in the newest issue, but honestly? I really think this tracks. Setting aside his original programming to kill Tails, let's look at their relationship in chronological order, shall we?

As we know, they met in Eggperial City, where Kit tried to do his job and kill Tails. Tails quickly set to work on talking Kit down, which he did mostly successfully (mostly, because it all went to pot the instant Tails suggested they find Sonic). The thing is, if he has taken the time to look back on it (and I'm sure he has for reasons I'll get to), I don't think Kit sees Tails as really being kind in retrospect. I think he sees Tails as having manipulated him.

And the thing is: he's right.

Look at Tails's smirk after Kit shows surprise that Tails likes his gear. That's a got him smirk if I've ever seen one. Tails has clued into a vulnerability of Kit's that he can use to his advantage.

He further tries to draw similarities between them ("I'm different too and people didn't like that either") and asks leading questions ("you don't get support huh?") to get the result he wants. We have further confirmation that this is deliberate manipulation on Tails's part by his internal monologue about Kit's emotional instability.

Now, none of this is to say Tails is a bad person. Kit was genuinely trying to murder him and Tails was trying to de-escalate the situation to save his own life, without physically harming Kit if possible. As funny as memes about Tails murdering the Kukku Army are, generally he tries to avoid hurting others if he can. He's a nice boy.

But what happened after this?

Well, more specifically: Tails mentioned wanting to find Sonic for help, Kit attacked again, Tails knocked Kit out, and then after Kit comes to and they all leave the city . . .

. . . he's told that Surge died.

Surge was his one reason for living thanks to Starline's programming, and she died while Kit was unconscious because Kit fell for Tails's manipulation and then was overpowered. We don't get a look inside his head during the time when he believes Surge has died, but there is a strong possibility that he blamed himself, because if he had drowned Tails right away like he was supposed to, he could have gone to help Surge. But he didn't, so he couldn't, so she's dead. That's mostly on him, but he could easily resent Tails for it, too.

And speaking of resentment:

Kit finds out Surge is alive, and of course his first instinct is to think Sonic lied so that he could kill Surge off for good. So he goes to get revenge, only to be blocked by Tails. And that's when we get that gem of a line: "Why would you bother with me? You already have him."

Remember that, when he thought Surge was dead, he figured he could be used by Sonic instead:

But while he of course doesn't want to serve Sonic now, he has also realized that if Surge HAD actually died, Sonic would still have no use for him, because Sonic already has Tails. Tails, who can break his water tails easily. Tails, who easily manipulated him in Eggperial City. Tails, who disabled his water pack and knocked him out.

So far, Tails has bested Kit at every turn, leaving Kit to feel inferior and worthless by comparison.

The next time they meet, it is a trap where Kit is again supposed to kill Tails. And once more Tails is able to manipulate Kit into temporarily backing down:

Tails thinks Kit has gone back to being, if not friendly, then reasonable. But he hasn't. Kit stops specifically when Tails says Surge is hurting herself, because he doesn't want Surge to be hurt. And I think Tails knows that, and that's why he said it. But Kit also knows that he is being manipulated here, and his silence is him watching for his opportunity. Such as here:

Peep Kit in the second panel. He watches as Tails dives after Sonic. Had Tails hit the water, he would have been fried right along Sonic. But did Kit care? No. He watched. Surge could have easily killed Tails just as she (temporarily) killed Sonic, and Kit would not have cared at all, because at this point he does not see Tails as a friend: he sees him as a manipulative enemy.

This is further cemented by what he says and does at the end of the issue.

He uses his water tails to grab Tails and move him out of the way in the very same way that he does to Sonic. And he says, "I'll bury you all here." All, including Tails. While the focus is put on Sonic's anger because he is the main character, that doesn't change the fact that he is including Tails when he says that he will bury them all. He sees Tails as no different from Sonic, Starline, or Eggman. Tails manipulated and used him, just as the rest did. He just pretended to be nice while he did it.

So when he finally comes back in this most recent issue, it comes as no surprise to me that this is his attitude:

His history with Tails is extremely personal, and not in a good way. It can be easy to miss because most of the focus on Kit has been on his codependent relationship with Surge, and he hasn't openly voiced how he feels about Tails until this particular issue. But when you piece together every step of their relationship (Tails manipulating him, Tails overpowering him, Kit saying Sonic has no use for him because he has Tails), it paints a very clear picture that Kit feels every bit as suffering in Tails's shadow as Surge does in Sonic's. The only reasons why Kit isn't more proactive about it is because of his programming as a support figure. Supporting Surge comes before all else, so if Surge is hurting herself it's best to hang back. And if Surge doesn't want to go after the Restoration because it's a losing battle with just the two of them, then he needs to follow her lead.

But those feelings of resentment are still boiling under his surface. And now that he has the opportunity to unleash them, he won't miss the chance to strike.

#sth #idw sonic #idw sonic spoilers #kit the fennec #kitsunami the fennec #miles tails prower #meta #again Tails wasn't being evil or anything like that #he was literally just trying to not be murdered while also not hurting Kit any more than he absolutely had to #but Kit has every reason (narratively) to not see it that way #unfortunately bc Kit has been programmed to believe his own feelings and thoughts don't matter we don't get a lot of it either #but i think it's there if you read between the lines #Tails honey you've got a big storm comin #but so does everyone else in the Restoration bc Whisper is the only one with a healthy sense of mistrust lol

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pixiefeatherkw3 · 7 months

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SONIC HOCUS POCUS AU!!

"In wich Metal, Amy and Sage have to stop the curse of the Sanderson Witches before accidentally causing said curse in halloween night." //TW: mild-mentions to death, violence, and gore//

Metal and Sage are new in the city of Salem, with their fathers (Ivo and Stone) moving out into an old family house that an relative of Ivo Kintobor left to his name. Amy is your local believer of all stuff paranormal and most importantly: the history of Salem, even being long-time friends with Tails, who is an all and all recognizable kid for being an allegedly descendant of The Sanderson Sisters. He doesn't seem to like how much attention he get's about it tho...

Rouge, Sonic and Honey a.k.a: The Sanderson Sisters

Are the most famous names of the whole town,having been said to be the main inquisitors of spreding havoc and misfortune with witchery in Salem centuries ago:

-Rouge Sanderson, the oldest and most powerful of the three. She possessed a spell-book that was bound in human skin and contained her most powerful spells and recipes. -Nicky Sanderson (Better known as Sonic) that was a charming but deeply dangerous witch, with a voice that could control and lure the mind of anyone that heard him. Rumors said his own magic slowly brought him into madness.

-Honey Sanderson, a seamstress of enchanted puppets for curses and spells. Those who got tempted by revenge usually came to her and payed a big price for her terrible practices to control others.

A lot of stories has been told around the years about the acts of the witches, such as the one of Knuckles E.: Rouge's lover, who was said to mingle with Sonic, so she poisoned the echidna and got Honey sew his mouth, so he couldn't tell Rouge's secrets even in death. But, by far the most well-known story, is the one of how the three witches where hanged. Having plans of taking the life of childrens to aquire everlasting life.

Legend says, that they did indeed took the soul of one Maria Kintobor, as a way to punish the whole Kintobor lineage for their persecutions against themselves, as the head of the family, Gerald Kintobor, was the main judge in charge of witches law by that time. The oldest brother of the family, Shadow Kintobor, was lost to this as well, cursed to live forever in the form of a black cat that guarded the only thing that could bring the Witches back: The Black Flame Candle. STAY TUNED FOR MORE...!

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chonkypancakeblog · 10 months

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Is Sonic jealous? Very likely.

Now, if he’s jealous over Amy or over Shadow is up to your interpretation 🤭

#SonAmy #shadamy #sonadow #SonShadAmy #sonic the hedgehog #hot honey #tmosth #tails #miles tails prower #sonic #shadow #shadow the hedgehog #Amy rose #amy #art #illustration #artists on tumblr

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leighsartworks216 · 11 months

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Okay idk if this has already been pointed out but i was looking at this official artwork

Like awe okay cute they're making a phoenix statue as a surprise

But then im like what is that picture Miles has by him

Guys

GUYS

ITS FUCKING PHOENIX SHIRTLESS AND SWEATY WITH A TOWEL AROUND HIS NECK

#i was having trouble with the images for no reason so lemme know if theyre wonky #miles honey did you provide this reference yoURSELF???#im losing my mind bc of this #ace attorney #phoenix wright #miles edgeworth #maya fey #pearl fey #larry butz #wrightworth #narumitsu

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donelywell · 6 months

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August 21- 31 2023

This is just how I'd draw Silver, Tails, and Blaze (with a cameo of Amy and Cream)

I've been contemplating Silver's design for a good while, I wanted to draw him with freckles, but since he has fur instead of skin, that wouldn't make a lot of sense (I realize now that animals can have spots on them, so you can expect more freckled designs >:D). Then it hit me, he has Chaos Energy! Just have the freckles be a marking of his Chaos Abilities!

I made him the Guardian of the Time Stones, since it makes obvious sense. You have a time traveller, and a means of time travel, so why are the two not used together??

He's wearing pants because (head canon time >:)) back when Humans and Mobians first interacted, some Mobians mixed their culture in with Humans. That includes wearing entire outfits, living in houses, and having human sounding first and last names. Over the 200 years and since this is a post apocalypse wasteland, it's safer to wear clothes than to not. Though some Mobians still don't wear shirts because it is extremely uncomfortable for them because of extra fur and quills/ spikes.

(+Bonus image of Silver eating a burger because he probably never got to have good food in his 'bad future')

Tails! As Tails grows to a teen, he gets more brown patterns on his fur, the one drawn here is when he's 8. I love the idea of Tails having 2 different colored tails and having them create an effect when he flies with them.

I swapped his oversized gloves with fitting ones, but he has a section of it blue as a reminder of the blue wrist straps Sonic gave him to help make the oversized ones fit him. He also wears socks that matches Sonic fur color (because brothers)

His Miles Electric also goes through a lot of changes. The Miles Electric goes through upgrades depending on what console you can play the game on. In lore reason: it's because he's constantly upgrading the machine. So when he first starts making the Miles Electric (although it is very basic compared to what it is today, only being used as a Chaos Emerald Tracker), it looked like a Game Gear, and in Frontiers: it looks like a Nintendo Switch for example. :)

Blaze was always going to be fun to draw. I made her outfit more fit to be active in (since it's gotta be uncomfortable running in heels and a coat). I like the idea of when she's extremely focused or using strong emotions, her ponytail and tail tip will catch on fire. I replaced the fuzzy material at the end of her gloves with gold bracelets and more jewelry (I'm sorry).

I made the gem on her forehead also a pattern on her arms because I think it'd be a nice touch, and a way to add red-ish pink to more of her character instead of pretty much just on her face.

(+ Amy and Cream :D)

#tails the fox #miles tails prower #silver the hedgehog #blaze the cat #sonic fanart #This is just how I'd draw/ I redesign these characters #I still really gotta learn how to draw gemstones #Hot Honey Cameo on Amy's shirt!#And little Cream in a onesie!

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boysbeloving · 4 months

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32 things i like about mile for his 32nd birthday!

long hair

2. triangle eyebrows

3. nose mole

4. smile

5. chin mole

6. filled holes

7. armpits and armpit hair

8. big arms

9. breasts

10. chest mole

11. happy trail

12. bulge

13. butt

14. leg hair

15. heeled shoes

16. white socks

17. 2 fingers inside me

18. greeny obsession

19. guitar playing

20. food lover

21. intense gaze

22. gym bunny

23. mirror selfies

24. finger tattoo

25. wearing sunglasses

26. his custom rings (he sadly lost this one and got a different new one made, which i don't like much)

27. him in traditional clothing

28. & 29. him as kinn and his one strand of hair

30. & 31. his money 🙃 and his endorsements

32. the whole of him 🥺

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MILE PHAKPHUM ROMSAITHONG, 5 Jan 2024

#mile phakphum #mile phakphum romsaithong #kinnporsche #man suang #happymileday #it's my man's bday y'all!!!#mile honey i wish you happiness and good health and contentment and good fortune and peace and love and good food #i love you #please take care of yourself #and enjoy <3 #(also....tumblr plz increase your 30 images per post limit...my man is not getting any younger)

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bussyslayer333 · 1 year

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dancing together in the rain with bradley for your blurb celebration please ❤️

this is so cute eeee

pairing: bradley bradshaw x wife!reader

word count: 0.5k

warnings: some swearing,,, i think that’s it?? mostly cute af

send me a prompt, get a blurb!!

“You’re fucking crazy!” you squeal with no bite, rain pelting down onto you.

San Diego was usually dry and hot, something you loved about the place was it’s general consistency in weather. Today however, dry was replaced with wet, very wet.

“Dance with me baby!” Bradley shouts over the rain.

His white shirt is almost fully see through and his jacket he’d already deposited as it was weighing him down. You eyed the way his large arms strained and moved beneath the transparent fabric and ultimately folded, rushing into his waiting arms.

You should probably be mad. You’re wedding dress was going to be ruined. The cake had turned to an inedible mush and your guests were huddled under a small gazebo meant only for the bar and speakers for the music.

“There’s no music, Brad,” you wonder aloud.

As if on cue, the melodic sounds of Abba come spitting loudly out of the speakers being scarcely protected by the gazebo. You look around curiously to find none other than Jake Seresin stepping out of the gazebo, already shirtless and smacking Bradley on the shoulder.

“God, Bradshaw do I have to save your ass all the time?” He teases, hair still perfectly tousled even when soaked in rainwater, droplets dripping down his toned chest in a way that could almost be staged.

Bradley can only laugh in disbelief, “why is your shirt off?”

“I��m here to fuckin’ dance, Bradshaw that’s why!” Jake cheers.

You shrug and bend down to slip your heels off, flinging them to the side.

With your approval, streams of people come from under the gazebo, shrieking as the rain hits them. The squealing quickly turns to singing as people familiarise themselves with the weather and begin to dance.

Bradley is jumping up and down wildly, his hands never leaving your waist. You can feel his strong hands gripping onto you through the sodden fabric of your dress, spinning you round to face him. He continues to sway you as he pushes at the wet strands of hair framing your face.

“You’re so goddam beautiful.” He declares, running his thumb over your lip.

“Even with my makeup ruined?” you query.

“Especially.” Bradley decides, hurriedly smashing his lips into yours.

You can hear your friends and family whooping as Bradley deepens the kiss and lowers you down in a dip. He was always one for theatrics.

And when you’re scooped back up and allowed to take in the surrounding scene, Jake twirling around your grandma and your girlfriends dancing wildly with Bob and Fanboy, there’s no way on earth you could be mad at all. Even when the rain is still slashing down heavily.

“I hope this hasn’t ruined our day Mrs Bradshaw?” Bradley whispers into your ear.

You turn back to face him, nose nudging against his own, “No day is ruined with you.”

Bradley’s arms come to wrap back around you as he lifts you up.

“Put me down!” You squeal, slapping at his rain soaked shirt that was practically useless at this point.

“Never.”

a/n: I LOVE BRAD UGHHH and i hope u guys love this 😘😘

icl i love writing lil blurbs hehe

pls comment or reblog and tell me what u think :))

ty for requesting and reading !!!

- honey <333