#<- lemme know if I’m using that tag wrong I thought it was just general ut +au stuff but idk if it’s referring to specifics?

[capricioussun]

I’m something of a Lyla to him. If Lyla was completely functionally useless and actively made his life worse. :*)

[peaches2217]

Look, I hate to be the one to say it, but if you grew up in a cult and you’re still religious, you never escaped your cult. You’re not a cult survivor, you’re literally still a cult member. I hope you get the help you need.

(I’m assuming you’re referencing my tags on this post?? Lemme know if I’m off-base! 😅)

Oooookay! Little rant under the cut, because while it is a bit of a sensitive topic, I think I have the right to answer honestly!

TW: Religious trauma, abusive relationships, homophobia, just generally deep shit about toxic religious culture

Friendo, with all due respect, you don’t get to tell me what I am or what I’m not when it comes to my religious beliefs. I’m sorry if that sounds harsh, but I’ve spent the past five years navigating my own thoughts and beliefs after twenty-odd years of being told exactly what to think and how to believe, and that’s something I won’t allow to be belittled or diminished.

I did grow up in a cult. My lifelong church was an Assemblies of God church, which is a denomination already known for being… kinda intense, but I got the “privilege” of seeing it morph into a fledgling cult as I grew up; gradually cutting all associations with all churches outside the denomination, thinly-veiled messages of fear and hate becoming less and less veiled, increasingly vigilant calls to action against “The Enemy,” which went from a vague way of referencing Satan and his influence to referencing literally anyone who wasn’t part of the congregation. I dated a guy who sincerely believed, and preached to a room full of “Amen!”s, that Catholics are all Hell-bound and non-Evangelical Protestants weren’t far behind. I didn’t even think twice about the logic of suggesting a 2000-year-old religion was wrong and illegitimate prior to the past hundred years or so. I was just enamored by his devotion and wisdom.

I was always queer and suppressed it to varying degrees of success before getting my first taste of freedom in college and falling into a relationship that became abusive. I came back home after dropping out, broken and confused, and ran back to the only place I’d ever felt welcomed, but realized pretty quickly that I’d been deemed one of the very same outsiders I was warned about growing up. I threw myself into repentance. I desperately tried to regain favor in the eyes of the church and the God I was raised to believe in. I made the mistake of finally opening up and trusting the pastor enough to confide in him about my abusive relationship, to which he responded with a lecture about MY wrongdoings, followed by him outing me to the entire congregation. One day after service when I was about 21 or 22, I approached my dad while he was talking with the pastor’s wife, and she stopped mid-sentence when she saw me and just walked away in the opposite direction. That was a pretty common reaction people had to me after being outed, but I think that was the moment I realized I had failed to atone and failed as a Christian.

Through it all, my dad spoke with conviction of a God who was gentle, loving, merciful, and kind. I realized late in my teenhood that, for all his devotion to our church, the God he spoke of wasn’t the same God our pastor spoke of. My dad remains a victim of the cult because he was raised to believe all figures of authority are well-meaning — a few months back, my mom tried to sit him down and explain plainly that several of my psychological issues are a direct result of religious trauma inflicted by the church he raised me in, and he sincerely couldn’t wrap his head around the notion. But even as that church has morphed into a cult, he’s held belief in a God and a Christianity more forgiving. I realized during my last few visits to the church, spread over the course of a couple of years, that he’d also been othered, if not quite as hard and suddenly as I was. Even now he’ll express frustration that no one seems to consider his ideas or opinions when he used to be considered a go-to decision maker.

My dad’s no leftist; he’s proudly conservative, supports Trump, and hides his homophobia behind a veil of sympathy for those ��called to celibacy” or with a “propensity towards sodomy” (both terms he’s used to describe me, to my face). I love him, and we have a good relationship, but I sincerely worry about what might happen when he finds out I’m trans. His one deviation from the church, his belief that God’s much more willing to love and forgive than the pastor tells us, is nevertheless enough to have him considered an outlier. Being ostracized and forced to look from the outside in allowed me to see that and realize “Hey, hold up, that doesn’t make sense.”

So for the past half decade, I’ve been doing something that goes directly against everything I was ever taught: examining my beliefs and determining what I truly believe and what I only believe out of indoctrination and fear. Looking at the Scriptures in their original forms and historical-political contexts, and examining its English translations through the same lens. Discerning the difference between what’s biblical and what’s Christlike, how much of Christianity is God’s true word and how much is the agenda of men, challenging myself to question everything I’ve ever known and acknowledge that maybe what I learned was just wrong.

It’s… largely been uphill, but it’s a battle I’m not fighting alone. My girlfriend is a huge source of support; having someone that’s so close to me yet so far removed from the system I was brought up in has been invaluable in opening my eyes to just how fucked up some of the stuff I’ve been taught is. I just earlier this year learned that the Rapture isn’t a widespread belief outside of American Evangelicism, and that it as a concept isn’t even an ancient prophecy, but a relatively recent (like, 19th century, popularized in the 20th century) man made doctrine. My girlfriend, who lacks strong religious affiliation but nonetheless knows her Scripture because she’s from the heavily Catholic Slovakia, was absolutely baffled when I explained what I thought was common knowledge to all Christians. She calls the doctrine “UFO Jesus”.

Since I was at least twelve, I’ve lived in constant fear of the Rapture because I was convinced that, as a “sodomite” who couldn’t bring myself to condemn others like me, all my friends and I would be damned to Hell at any given moment. It’s always been a double-edged sword; fear of damnation is what’s kept me from offing myself several times, but the belief that the Rapture will happen any day and I’ll be tortured for all eternity no matter what I do so there’s really no point in living is a huge part of what got me to the point of wanting to off msyelf in the first place. And I’m learning now that it’s not even a common belief within one of the world’s largest religions, least of all to the extent its importance was pressed within our church. I still struggle to say “I was taught a lie” because that fear of being wrong and suffering greatly for it was part and parcel of my participation in church growing up, but dammit I’m striving to find my own truth instead of the supposed truth drilled into me.

So yes, I’m still religious. But I no longer believe in the God I was taught to believe in. I still haven’t quite figured everything out, and I still struggle thanks to a lifetime of indoctrination, but I’m learning to define my own beliefs bit by bit, and I believe in a God of radical love who mourns what so many oppressive sects of Christianity teach and enforce in His name. And if you don’t believe that, that’s fine! There’s reasons aplenty to be atheistic or antitheistic or religious/spiritual but unaffiliated with Christianity specifically.

But don’t you dare fucking tell me I’m no better now than I was while I was trapped, just because you personally don’t find religion to hold any value. I’m not perfect. I was raised in a deeply flawed ideology and still suffer from holdovers. I’m doing my best to hold myself accountable for those biases as I move forward. But I am, in fact, a victim and a survivor, and I‘ve fought like hell to undo the damage done to me and that I did to others while trapped in that system, and I have every right to be frustrated at those efforts being belittled and to be proud of myself for how far I’ve come anyway.

[writer-or-whatever]

20 Questions Game

Thanks for the tag @maria-de-salinas :)

1. How many works do you have on ao3?

25

2. What’s your total ao3 word count?

50,473

3. What fandoms do you write for?

I’ve written for HP, Gilmore Girls, Avatar: the last airbender, Friends, and various iterations of Spider-Man

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

1. Game night (HP)

2. Just another Thursday night (HP)

3. Can’t fight the friction (HP)

4. Would you be so kind as to fall in love with me? (Gilmore Girls)

5. Five Conversations and a dinner date (HP)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

100% every single time. The fact that people read what I write at all blows my mind, so when people comment I love it so much and definitely want to respond and have a lil conversation.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Probably either The Life and Times of Sirius Black (canon complaint w/ major character death) or I guess What In The World Has Come Over You? (A bad things happen bingo prompt fill with no resolution of the aforementioned bad thing and an open ending. Which I personally dislike more than a sad concrete ending)

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

I think probably Would you be so kind. But I’m generally a sucker for a happy ending so there’s a fair number of happy endings

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? In my early fandom days a little bit, but I am a huge fan of the block button so. Now I don’t.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Do I write it? Yes. Does it ever get finished and/or posted? Not as much. Pretty much everything I’ve written has just been PWPs that I either haven’t finished or don’t like enough to post.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I have posted one (1) crossover and it was an mcu/itsv crossover. It was originally part of a slightly more ambitious series, which was a post-no way home, post-into the spiderverse, mid-canon shattered dimensions crossover. (Despite the fact that shattered dimensions is a fairly unknown (in larger fandom) spiderman game from 2010). Miguel’s characterization is a bit different in that game than in across the spiderverse and after atsv came out I was like. This is going to be torn to shreds by people who have seen that movie and have no other frame of reference for him. No thank u. (Don’t get me wrong! I love atsv! They’re just two different versions of the same character okay).

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge. Someone asked me if they could repost one of my fics once and I was like ??? No??? And I kept an eye on them for a bit but they didn’t so 🤷‍♂️

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but if someone wanted to that would be fucking amazing. So If there’s any interest lemme know 👀

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Again, this is one of those ‘yes but it never saw the light of day’ things again. My partner and I had a fic that we outlined and started writing together almost four years ago but we both just kinda lost interest/started writing less. It still lives on in my drafts though.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Hm. That’s a hard one honestly. Maybe Rory/Jess?

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

There are many wips on my computer, many of which will never see the light of day (the current wip count right now is 112). One I would have liked to finish is the Spider-Man one I mentioned before but honestly. I am fairly certain I won’t.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Characterization

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Action scenes! And sometimes dialogue :/

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I love it when it’s well done. Hate it when it’s just thrown in there to be thrown in there. Wish I could do it myself sometimes, but my French is ✨not good enough for that✨and I refuse to use google translate

19. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Harry Potter

20. Favorite fic you’ve ever written?

Would you be so kind. Absolutely my magnum opus as far as fanfic goes.

Tagging: @thatforgottenbasilisk @sarah-sandwich @otpcutie @webtrinsic1122 @belleslettres-love @ernestonlysayslovelythings

[feralcorpses]

Warning: Rant and cursing below.

I know it won’t do shit reblogging it, BUT FUCK IT LEMME DREAM OF AIS DEATH! I NEED IT TO BURNNNNN RAHHHHHHHHHH

Sorry I just really really FUCKING HATE ai generated images, honestly don’t we all, it’s just a shit show of justifying stealing talented peoples art to create a scummy version of a idea, also stop calling it ai “art” it’s not art it’s the scum of artist community’s making beautiful pieces just to be stolen and used to “tRaIn ThE aI”, like it’s not training it’s stealing and putting it in the data base and yes you should be aware that things like this might happen if you post your art on the internet, but it truly shouldn’t be something people have to worry about when posting their absolutely gorgeous works of art, and so many artist have given up what they love or slowly felt like they’re wasting away time if ai generated images continue making this fake “art”, and if your with the whole idea of ai art, one question, why, why do you think ai is going to bring any good to us. Yes it has helped with many things but it’s also destroying things. I also wanna bring up a scam I was made aware of, if you do commissions PLEASE put your watermark over your art if they ask for a draft, they usually ghost you after this draft is sent and then use it to “train” these ais, i’m not too aware of the process of commissions so I might have gotten some of the process wrong but hopefully you understand what I mean.

Sorry for ranting as I know my usual posts are more on the positive side ig but i’m just really goddam sick of things like this happening.

(I know I went against the whole don’t call it art in the tags but I couldn’t put the “” , and it’s 4:30 am i’m way to fucking tired to try to do fancy shit with tags, I probaly shouldn’t even tag it but I feel like it might give someone out there a wake up call if they haven’t thought about it properly yet, would be pretty hard not too though with all of us angry ranting abt it, and we should rightfully be angry, not just artists everyone who’s aware of this scum)

Sorry for the rant again and cursing so much, like I said before sorry I know this is different from my normal posts and stuff but I just really needed to rant abt these ai generated images cause it just has started really getting to me to see how many artists are being undervalued because of this shit, anyway have a good day/morning/evening/night.

Reblog to kill it faster

[babyboibucky]

Promises, promises

Pairing: AU!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: You believed that promises are meant to be broken but Bucky always proved you wrong. Until one day, he proved you right.

Word Count: 6,555 (oops I got carried away lol)

Warnings: Angst, a tiny bit of self-doubt but with a happy ending!!!

A/N: Some tags aren’t working, damn u tumblr! Anyway enjoy the angst and the shitty writing lmfao. Also kinda want to do ficlets for these two??? Like short fics about the happenings in their relationship, their first date, how they dealt with the break up idk, lemme know if anyone’s interested in that xoxo

MAIN MASTERLIST

-

It's been four and a half years since Bucky broke up with you and honestly, you're fine now. Fine, as in you've moved on from him and that you haven't been stalking his Instagram account anymore or have been asking Steve how he's doing since the break up. You're fine now, really.

There was not an ounce of denial left in your body after almost two years of pining and self-blame. But that doesn't mean you've forgotten the pain he caused you when he woke up one day and realized that he didn't need you anymore.

Forgive and forget they often told you and you badly wanted to do so. But it wasn't that easy to do, not when you still feel the pain as if it only happened yesterday.

"What did you say?" your forehead creased as you walked around the kitchen counter, quickly approaching Bucky who had his back to you as he stood in the living room of your shared apartment.

You weren't sure if you heard him right, or if he actually said anything. Perhaps you were just hearing things? Just this morning he woke up and greeted you with his charming smile before pressing a soft peck on your lips. You had cooked breakfast together, laughed together and even talked about what to have for dinner.

Sure, something about his demeanor earlier was a bit off, but you assumed it had something to do about his work and not because he wanted to break up with you.

Right?

"Bucky, what did you say?" you pressed when Bucky remained quiet; he didn't even turn around to face you.

He heaved out a deep sigh, "I said I need space." he murmured.

"What do you mean, Buck?" you asked again, voice small and shaky as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt.

Of course you knew what exactly Bucky meant by that, but you didn't want to believe it. You were hopeful that maybe this was one of those petty fights you used to have, one where Bucky would spend the night over at Steve's. He'll come around the next day, he always does that. You always woke up to him whispering apologies to your ear and you would say your sorry too.

Bucky rubbed his face with his hand before finally turning to you, "I can't do this anymore." he said, shaking his head before averting his gaze to the floor.

He must have seen the look in your eyes when he faced you. As much as you believed that you were pretty good at hiding your emotions, it never worked on Bucky. He was the only person who could always read you; you could never hide from him.

"Bucky, I don't understand." you let out a nervous chuckle as you hugged yourself, biting your lower lip to prevent them from quivering as you held back the urge to cry.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, "I just...you've been too...fuck, I don't know how to say this without hurting you. I really don't want to." he admitted dejectedly, looking up at you.

You scoffed, "Just fucking say it, Bucky. I'm already hurt just by having this conversation." you told him.

"You're too good for me. Way too good."

Bucky’s words echoed in your mind again as you laid your eyes on him, four and a half years after your break-up. And just like that, you were back to square one.

You did your best to avoid him after he left, you felt like Bucky too tried to do the same. It was harder than you thought, given that you belonged to the same circle of friends. There were missed birthday parties, anniversaries and get togethers. If you knew Bucky was going to be there, you’d bail. Thank god you had a bunch of understanding friends who never took your absences against you.

But an engagement party between two of your friends? Now that was something you wouldn’t want to miss out on.

You’ve been really happy for quite a while now, to the point that it never crossed your mind that Bucky would surely be attending as well. He had been out of your system since the day you decided to move past him, which is why you thought that you were finally a-okay.

Tonight proved you wrong because as you watched Bucky smile and greet your friends, you realized that you still wanted to punch him and hurt him and tell him that you were still in lo—

“Hi.”

You were too focused on daydreaming about how you wanted to hurt Bucky that you failed to notice that he made his way to you and was now waiting for you to greet him back.

Bucky was smiling at you the same way he did on the night you first met at a college house party. You and Bucky have been together for that long.

“Hi.”

The music was too loud that you missed out on the stranger’s greeting, if not for his shadow looming over your hunched figure as you sat on the staircase, you would’ve completely ignored him.

The guy was looking down at you with a charming smile that made your cheeks turn pink. He was tall and slightly muscular, something you noticed right off the bat all thanks to the tight red henley he was sporting. The guy had long hair too, but it was tied back into a low man bun that was messy enough to leave tendrils of stray hair to frame his handsome face.

“Hi.” He repeated with a chuckle, a hint of amusement laced in his tone as he bit his lip at the sight of you just staring up at him.

“Hi?” You stammered awkwardly.

He laughed, “Um, can I pass through or is there some sort of password required?”

You realized that you had been blocking his way, everyone’s way actually. Quickly, you apologized and stood up to leave your spot only for the guy to block your way before you could even hop off of the last step of the staircase.

Thinking that you must have confused him and the direction you intended to go, you murmured a soft apology again before sidestepping him but to no avail. You looked up at him with a frown when you noticed that he was intentionally blocking your way.

It didn’t help that he was way taller than you. Despite the one being on the last step of the staircase, the guy still loomed over you.

“Excuse me?” You snapped and tried to move past him but he was way bigger than you and managed to stop you from passing through.

He had a cheeky smile on as he watched your futile attempt to squeeze your way out of his large body. You huffed out when he held onto the rail while his other hand on the wall, completely trapping you on the staircase.

“What’s the password?” He asked, still grinning at you.

You deadpanned, “Are you kidding me?”

He shook his head, “Nope.”

You stared at him blankly before glancing at his hands, observing whether you had a chance at prying them away from where they held on. It was then that you noticed how his left hand was covered in tattoos. The sleeve of his henley rode up quite a bit to reveal that his tattoos reached his wrist, he probably had his entire left arm sleeved with ink.

“Can I please pass?” You huffed out when you concluded that there was no way you would be able to escape him.

“Like I said, I need a password.” He insisted.

“Penis.” You stated, face free from any sort of expression.

The guy choked on his laughter, “Why would you honestly think that?” He asked incredulously.

You shrugged, “I thought you guys liked dick jokes.” You reasoned out.

The guy laughed as he shook his head, “Well, you’re not wrong.”

“It’s not the password?” You asked. “Don’t I get a hint or something, I really don’t have time for games right now. I have to go back to my dorm. I have a test tomorrow.” You told the guy.

“I can’t believe you’re thinking about a test. What’s your major anyway?” He asked.

You groaned, “Like I said, I don’t have time for games or even for a conversation. Come on, just let me pass through!”

The guy hummed as he stared at you, as if he was thinking of something. You wanted to look away but he had beautiful ocean blue eyes that you found yourself slowly getting lost in.

“I’ll give you hints.” He announced. “Two hints actually, because I’m feeling generous.”

“Okay, then. Just spit it out!” You rushed.

The guy grinned.

“The password is made up of your name followed by your number.”

“Hi.”

You blinked when Bucky repeated his greeting. When you regained your senses, you cleared your throat and simply nodded at him as acknowledgment. You saw how Bucky’s smile faltered seconds before you looked away and pretended to look for someone.

“I can’t believe you just brushed me off.” He chuckled, running his fingers through his hair.

Bucky had cut off his hair right after graduation. He sported a clean cut since then but now he had longer locks; not as long as his college hair though. It just looked fluffier, you fought the urge to imagine how it’d feel through your fingers.

“I can’t believe you just expected me to greet you as if nothing happened.” You told him, letting your eyes wander around the place.

Bucky exhaled heavily and shook his head, “I thought we’d be okay by now.” He admitted. “Guess I was wrong.”

You clicked your tongue in irritation, snapping your head into his direction after avoiding his gaze earlier. “I am okay, but that doesn’t mean I am okay with being around you.” You hissed.

“I honestly thought we’d still be friends, you know. Civil at least.”

What has gotten into Bucky’s mind for him to expect a lovely reunion between the both of you? Things didn’t end well, he just left. He was too ambitious to even think that you’d greet him with rainbows and butterflies.

“We’re not friends, Bucky. Not even acquaintances.” You told him.

Bucky opened his mouth to say something until someone tapped on the mic, announcing that the newly engaged couple, Wanda and Vis, had something to say to their guests. By the time he looked back at you, you had already walked away and joined Nat at their table.

It reminded Bucky of the days when he used to watch your back retreat into your dorm whenever he walked you home.

“So, you gonna tell me the password or what?”

You felt all your blood rush to your head and you’ve never been thankful for existence of strobe lights. You were probably red as a tomato. Who wouldn’t be anyway? This handsome dude just asked for your name and number!

“Is this a joke?” You managed to asked and thanked the heavens that you didn’t stutter.

The guy shook his head, “I don’t really joke around.” He shrugged.

“Why do you even want to know my name and number?” you curiously asked.

Bucky shrugged, “Been watching you since you arrived.”

“Creeper.” you accused.

“Hard not to when you’re the only grumpy person in a party. I know your friends dragged you here, I mean you said you have a test tomorrow and you don’t seem the type to party a day before. Besides, you’ve been keeping to yourself the entire time. Figured you might want some company, one with substance.” he boastfully wiggled his eyebrows at you.

His confidence appalled you but you were also surprised at how he seemed to have read your mind. Or personality, in general.

“Hey, Bucky!”

You watched the guy turn his head towards front door where a blonde guy— Steve from the student council, you recognized— entered. You thought it’d give you a chance to slip away but the guy, well Bucky, kept his hands in place.

“Kinda busy right now, pal. I’ll catch up with you later.” He said.

Steve’s gaze moved past Bucky until they landed on you. He chuckled as he shook his head at his friend’s antics. Steve walked away but not without acknowledging you.

“He may not seem like it, but Bucky’s a good guy. You can take my word for it.”

Bucky turned to you and lifted an eyebrow, “I mean, coming from a student council member, that’s a pretty credible source.” He said confidently.

You bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. You had to admit, Bucky had a way with words and actions. His boyish charm was working on you and you hated how easily you were falling for it. And you just met the guy like ten minutes ago!

“So, what’s the password?” Bucky asked again.

You tapped your foot as you crossed your arms over your chest, “You promise to let me go if I tell you?”

Bucky made a face, “I don’t think that’s the right term because you can expect more of me once you give me the password. But I’ll definitely step aside. That’s a promise.” He reassured.

“Promises are meant to be broken.” You stated.

“Yeah, well watch me prove you wrong. Password? Pretty please?” He asked cutely and fuck, Bucky was really winning you over just like that.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you tell him your name and number. Just as he promised, Bucky stepped aside and quickly fished out his phone to type in your number. You honestly didn’t expect for him to remember it after hearing it once, but you peeked and he actually did. Impressive.

“Like I promised, off you go to study.” He said and motioned his arm towards the front door.

You sighed and offered a small smile before finally walking past him. You were about to open the front door when Bucky beat you to it.

“I told you ‘let go’ is the wrong term ‘cause I’m walking you home tonight.” Bucky said. “And tomorrow night too. And the next night and the next next night. Or afternoon. Morning? Whatever time your classes finish.”

Bucky really proved you wrong that night because he did walk you home the next night and the next next night too. It went on until he no longer had to watch you enter your dorm or apartment because eventually, the two of you ended up going to the same home.

It’s very ironic really, that it was also Bucky who failed to prove you wrong when he broke his promise not to hurt you, ever. You wondered whether it was your fault that you actually believed in him. It was hard not to though, because Bucky’s earned your trust from all the promises he made and kept.

Which is why it was even more painful when one day, he decided to break the one promise you truly held on to.

“I’ll always love you, you know that right?”

Bucky blurted it out randomly that his statement confused the hell out of you. The two of you were just playing a video game when he said it, making you hit pause.

“And where did that come from?” You asked with amusement.

Bucky frowned, “You could’ve reacted differently. I was hoping for a high-pitched ‘awwww!’ and this is what I get?” He teased, taking your chin in between his index finger and thumb to pull you close so he could bite your nose playfully.

“You said it out of the blue!” You told him with a laugh. “But it made me happy though.” You admitted and kissed his cheek.

“Yeah, well it’s true. I mean, this thing we got? It’s forever.” Bucky said and lovingly smiled at you.

You pretended to gag at his words but it was obvious that you felt like you were on cloud nine when Bucky said that. “Cheeseballs!” You teased.

“This cheeseball’s gonna put a ring on that finger one day. That’s a promise!”

A finger snapped right in front of your face, “You good?” Nat asked.

You nodded and tried your hardest not to look at Bucky. He was seated with Steve, Sam and some other guys at the table next to yours. You could feel him staring at you and it was making you anxious.  Nat and Sharon exchanged looks before letting out a sigh in unison.

“Come on, I’m fine. Stop looking at me like that!” You told them with a forced chuckle.

“What did Bucky say?” Sharon asked. She’d seen Bucky approach you upon his arrival, saw the expressions you both had as you talked and knew immediately that it didn’t go well.

Nat hummed before taking a quick sip from her glass of wine, “We’ve been watching and we’re curious.”

“He was expecting for us to be friends.” You simply stated.

Nat and Sharon groaned and rolled their eyes, “What a dick.” Nat said.

“Men really do have the audacity.” Sharon laughed and shook her head.

You joined her laughter and lifted up your own glass of wine, “I’ll drink to that.” You said before finishing your drink in one go.

One glass of wine turned into two and then three and then four. Six drinks later and you were buzzed and unstoppable. You weren’t that drunk, you were good at handling alcohol but you were tipsy for sure. The formalities of the engagement party were finally done and the guests were left to mingle around.

Wanda and Vis immediately went to your table to catch up and after giving them your heartfelt congratulations (and apologies for missing out on plenty of events), you decided to step out of the venue to get some fresh air.

The silence allowed you to process your thoughts, the same thoughts you had repressed for years. You were happy for Wanda and Vis, truly. The two have been the epitome of soulmates and it was only right for them to end up tying the knot. But you also couldn’t help but wonder, would you and Bucky end up in marriage too had he decided to stay and work things out with you?

You lift up your left hand and stared at your bare ring finger. Just a few years ago, you’d been wearing a simple gold band studded with tiny diamonds around it— a promise ring. Bucky had given it as a gift on your 6th anniversary. You’d gotten together when you were just 19 and Bucky 21. People always doubted that your relationship with him wouldn’t last long given that the two of you were so different. Not to mention, Bucky had a reputation. Girls fawned over him; he was tall and handsome, had a rugged appeal to him thanks to his long hair and tattooed left arm. He drove a damn motorcycle that got him into trouble plenty of times.

You were Miss Goody Two Shoes who played it safe and Bucky was the Big Bad Wolf who liked taking risks.

It was a surprise when your relationship with him kept on progressing and the next thing you knew, the both of you have been together for a total of eight long years. It would’ve reached nine but shit happened and Bucky decided that those eight years didn’t matter to him anymore.

“Can we talk?”

If Bucky asked you that a couple of years ago, you would’ve probably punched him in the face and kneed him at the crotch before running away. Well, you still wanted to do so but a part of you wanted to talk things out. Get a proper closure maybe since Bucky failed to give you a detailed explanation that would help you understand why he chose to leave you.

Nat told you once that some things are better left unsaid. You spent years secretly pining for Bucky after the break up, spent nights questioning yourself where you lacked that made him leave you. You’d asked Steve about Bucky whether he met someone knew or how he was dealing with the break up; it did you more damage than good until you finally gave up and decided to actually move on.

But now that Bucky was here and there was no way to avoid him, maybe you deserved this confrontation after all.

“What do you want to talk about?” You asked, keeping your eyes on the pavement right in front of you.

You felt Bucky stand beside you, placing his hands inside the pockets of his jeans before turning to you, “About us.”

You snickered, “Us? What about us? What is there to talk about us?” You asked, turning your head to face him.

Bucky’s eyes have always been your favorite feature of his. They were very expressive and if Bucky could see through you every damn time, it was his eyes that you could always read. They were still blue but they held a certain emotion in them as he gazed at you.

Sadness and...regret?

Before your assumptions could get the best of you, you turned away and waited for Bucky to speak again.

“I can’t keep on avoiding you.” He said. “I’ve been doing so for the past few years and it kills me.” He admitted.

“And you think I want to keep doing this too? I’ve missed out on so many occasions because I just couldn’t be around you. You’re not the only one struggling.” You said.

Bucky shrugged, “Then let’s stop avoiding each other.”

The way he suggested it almost offended you; he was so nonchalant about it as if it was so easy to just let him waltz back into your life. Truth was, you dreamt of the day that he’d come crawling back to you. But you knew better than to let your walls down just because you miss him.

“When Steve told me that you seemed to be doing well, I really thought it meant that we can become friendly with each other, y’now. I mean, eight years. Those years meant so much to me, we’ve been through a lot and—“

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, Barnes?!” You bitterly chuckled.

“If those eight years together really meant a lot to you, you would’ve stayed. You would’ve allowed me to work it out with you! But what, you broke up with me because you thought I was too good for you? That you felt suffocated just because I was looking out for you?”

You didn’t mean to snap at Bucky like that, in your mind you thought you would be able to have a calm conversation with him. But with the alcohol running through your body, you couldn’t stop yourself from expressing yourself and and feeling the same way you did on that specific night.

“Too good? How am I too good for you, Buck?” You asked, immediately wiping off the tears that escaped your eyes.

“You have everything planned out! For yourself, for us. And it makes me feel fucking useless! I see you work your way up at your job and I’m still figuring out what the hell I want to do with my life!” He exclaimed.

You shook your head, “I didn’t know you felt that way.” You whispered. “If you told me this then I could’ve done something about it, Buck! Rather than let it get this far, I would’ve fixed it.” You told him and tried to reach out but Bucky took a step back.

“That too! You’re a fixer! You always end up fixing things. This relationship has become an endless cycle of me fucking up things and you picking up the pieces. And every single time you clean my mess, I feel like you’re hoping I’d be like the others. It’s like you’re trying to make me into a person I’m not just so I could fit this, this certain mold you had in mind!” He accused you.

You wiped again your tears and refused to believe him, “That’s not true, Bucky! I’ve always loved you for who you are, I never asked you to change for me!”

“Yes, you do! You never said it but I always felt it...when Steve got promoted and when Sam finally launched his business. You always wanted me to be like them, you never said it out loud but that’s what you made me feel whenever we talk about my job...or lack thereof.” He chuckled bitterly.

Bucky may not be traditional in the sense that he considered himself an artist. He never liked the idea of settling for a nine to five desk job so he took on a job as a tattoo artist. It wasn’t a permanent job and he didn’t have clients demanding for him all the time so it gave him time to work for a motorcycle shop too.

It was never a problem for you but practically speaking, your and Bucky’s joint savings wouldn’t be enough for the future that the both of you have planned out.

“I’ve been supportive of you! I never asked you to give up on those jobs, Bucky.” You defended yourself.

Bucky nodded his head, “You don’t know it but you do. That’s how I felt whenever you suggested that I try something else.”

“It’s because I know you can do so much more! Stay at the tattoo parlor and mechanic shop, then fine! But don’t settle because you have the potential to make it out there, that’s what I want you to know! I don’t understand why you’re limiting yourself, Buck. Why you’re suddenly so afraid.”

You carefully took a step closer to Bucky and thank god he let you this time. You swallowed the lump in your throat and reached out to cup his face in your hand. Bucky was livid, his chest rising heavily with every breath he took.

“You were the one who taught me to be brave, to take risks. I used to be so afraid, remember? Afraid to ride your motorcycle, to try out that job I thought I couldn’t handle. I was so scared to commit,” you chuckled, remembering how much you hesitated to give Bucky a chance when he asked you to be officially his girlfriend.

“...but you’ve always been there for me. And I want to do the same with you. I know that it seems scary to let go of what you believe is your calling. You don’t have to let go of it, Buck. But you gotta try something new too.” You said as you let your thumb caress the skin beneath his eyes.

There was silence between the two of you. Bucky had calmed down and you thought that it was over. Little did you know that it was simply the calm before the storm. Because the words that came out of Bucky’s mouth were the words you didn’t expect to hear.

“Well, this is me trying something new.”

Bucky refused to meet your gaze and simply let your hand move away from his face. You shook your head no as you turned around to compose yourself.

“We were fine this morning, Buck. What happened?” You asked and embraced yourself, seeking comfort you knew you’d only get if Bucky changed his mind.

“I thought we were fine too. But the tattoo parlor is closing in a month and we haven’t been getting plenty of clients at the motorcycle shop. And it just hit me y’now, I dread coming home to you because I know you’d be disappointed and that again, you’d offer to fix my shit and the thing is, I don’t want you to. I don’t want you to fix my shit or tell me how to deal with my problems! I woke up and realized that I just don’t...” Bucky paused when you swiftly turned around with a frown, eyes brimming with a fresh new wave of tears.

“Don’t say it, Bucky. I’ll be better, I promise! I won’t nag you or pressure you into anything. Just please, don’t say it. Please don’t. We can still work this out.” You begged Bucky.

You weren’t sure you could take it, what he wanted to say. You already knew what he was going to tell you, you didn’t want to hear it. Let other people say it but god, it’d break you if you heard it from him.

“I’m sorry but I don’t need you anymore.”

The stabbing pain in your heart felt so familiar, the kind that punched all the air out of your lungs. You thought you were done crying over Bucky, but you were so wrong.

“I fucked up.” Bucky huffed out, bowing his head as if ashamed.

“You realized that just now?” You snickered. “Do you know how long it took for me to get over you? To forget the pain from hearing you tell me that you don’t need me anymore? After eight years together, Buck. You were my first everything and you gave up on us. And you really expected us to be friends, just like that?!” You spat.

“I’m sorry!” Bucky exclaimed, lifting his head to look up at you and you were surprised that his eyes were glazed with tears.

“I was wrong, I was so fucking wrong. Because you were right, I shouldn’t have settled then. But god I was an idiot, an insecure idiot.” He admitted.

“I was so used to being the one who guided you that it fucking hurt my ego when I noticed that you were becoming your own person outside of our relationship. I was supposed to be the one supporting you, pushing you to be better. You ended being the one leading me. I let my ego get the best of me and thought I’d be better off without you. But it was the biggest mistake of my life because when I left, I felt even more lost.” Bucky explained.

You were left speechless, you weren’t sure why Bucky was telling you all this. Did he want you back or was he simply apologizing? You didn’t have words so you remained quiet and waited to see whether Bucky had more to say.

“I’m so sorry, I really am. I hurt you. I should’ve stayed, should’ve worked with you to fix our relationship. I hate what we’ve become, I sincerely wanted us to be civil with each other at least.” He said.

“Bucky, you’ve been saying the same thing over and over again. I’m not sure you understand the situation. I can’t be friends with you. Not after what happened. I thought I was fine but now I realized that I’ve never really moved on from the pain you caused me.” You told him and sniffed, looking back to check whether your friends could see you.

Thankfully, all the guests were still busy mingling with each other. It’s as if the universe meant for this confrontation to happen. But now you weren’t sure what to do after you finally got a clear explanation from Bucky.

“I wanted a fresh start with you.” Bucky said. “Thought that it would make it easier for me to win you over if we were friends again.”

You scoffed in disbelief, “It’s not that easy, Buck. I can’t just let you walk back into my life after your apology. It doesn’t work that way.”

You tried to move past him but he immediately blocked your way, “When I said I’ll always love you, I meant it. I still do. I want to make things right, please. Give me one last chance to fix this.”

Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was Bucky’s words and how sincere he sounded that made your head spin. Your heart was racing and your palms turned cold. You wanted him back too, so bad but you weren’t sure if it was a good idea. He broke your heart and your trust, you weren’t sure if you’d survive if he left you again.

“I can’t continue this conversation, Bucky. I have to go.” You told him and made your way towards the door to the venue.

However, Bucky was quick to stand in front of the door. He had a determined look on his face, one that looked extremely familiar. You were still hurt but couldn’t deny the fact that you too, still love him.

Even after everything that had happened, Bucky still owned your heart.

“Bucky, can you please move? I want to go home.” You said and tried to reach for the door knob but Bucky moved and leaned against the door.

“You need a password to get through.”

You rolled your eyes, “We’re way too old for this, Bucky. I’m not playing with you.”

He shook his head, “I’m not playing either. Give me the password or else we’d be here the entire night.”

You huffed out, “This isn’t funny. Let me through.”

Bucky shrugged, “No can do. Like I said, I can do this all night.”

You deadpanned, “What’s the hint?” You asked with a defeated sigh, knowing well enough that there was no way you could walk past him without playing along with his stupid little game.

“Consists of three words.” Bucky said.

“Penis boobs vagina.”

Bucky cackled, “And I thought you said we’re too old for this.”

You groaned, “I’m serious, Bucky. Just let me go.”

“No. I made that mistake once and I’m not doing that again. I love you. And I promise that this time, it’ll be different. I know you still love me too, so again I am asking you to take a risk and say it.”

Bucky said it with conviction and you hated how it made your stomach flip. Up until this day, Bucky had a way to make you fold. And he could still read you.

“I’m not saying it, Bucky. How sure are you that I still feel the same anyway?” you asked.

Bucky tipped his head towards your neck, “Not sure if you just forgot but you’re wearing the promise ring as a necklace.”

Fuck. Of course, you’d forgotten about it. You may not have been wearing it on your finger, but you still continued to wear it. It meant a lot to you even after the break up, so much so that you couldn’t simply throw it away or remove it. You figured that it might be better to keep it around your neck. Out of sight, out of mind but still there. You wanted it to exist, it was a part of you.

“Say it and I promise that you won’t regret it.” Bucky insisted.

“Promises are meant to be broken. You proved that the night you broke up with me.” Your voice quivered when you said that.

“And I want to make it up for it for the rest of my life.” He reassured.

“History repeats itself. I don’t think I can deal with it again if you realized the second time around that you don’t need me. Buck, you really hurt me.” You said, voice cracking before you could even finish your sentence.

Bucky quickly took your face in between his hands and for some reason, it felt right. The warmth of his palm, the love in his eyes as he gazed at you, it felt like home.

“I know and I hate myself for it. So fucking much. But I promise you, it wouldn’t happen again. I fixed my life when you left, realized that you were right. I’m better now. So let me be the fixer this time, let me be the one to fix this mess, to pick up the pieces. Because I’m just as afraid to let you go again. I can’t do that again. I love you and I need you. I always did.”

The kiss he pressed on your forehead caused your walls to crumble down. All of a sudden you were sobbing into his arms and apologizing.

“I didn’t mean to pressure you then, Buck. I didn’t know, I’m sorry too.” You cried.

“Shh, no. Please don’t apologize.” Bucky coaxed as he pulled back to kiss your tears away. “None of this was your fault, baby. It’s all on me. Let me make it up to you, please?”

The term of endearment made your heart flutter and as much as you hated how Bucky easily won you over, again, the love you have for him was quick to outweigh it. You knew you shouldn’t have given in to him just like that, but this was Bucky. He was your greatest love, someone who owned your heart even after he left.

“I miss you, baby. Couldn’t fathom the thought of you being with someone else.” Bucky admitted as he hugged you tightly.

“I was so stupid, so fucking stupid. I hated myself for hurting you. I won’t do it again, I swear.”

His hand rubbed circles against your back, helping you calm down after your breakdown. He swayed you from side to side, pressed kisses on your crown and whispered promises that he was sure he was going to keep and you basked in it. When you finally calmed down, you pressed your face into Bucky’s neck and inhaled his scent.

He smelled the same, like comfort and love and trust. You hugged him tighter and smiled into his skin and mumbled, “I love you.”

Bucky chuckled, “You got the password right but I don’t think I’m letting you go just yet.”

“Nat and Sharon’s gonna kick our asses if they find out.” You chuckled.

He pulled back and stared at you lovingly, “I’ll take the hit for you.” he laughed.

“I’m sorry.” he mumbled again, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Forgiven.” You told him and stood on your tiptoes until Bucky bent down to meet your lips in a kiss.

You sighed into the kiss. Four and a half years of pain and anger all gone and replaced with the love you always had for Bucky. His lips against yours made you dizzy but in a good way.

It felt right, like this was how things were really supposed to be.

You pulled back and sighed, “As much as I want to stay like this, I’m really tired.”

Bucky let you go but took your hand in his, intertwining his fingers with yours. “I’m driving you home tonight.” He said.

You smiled.

“And the next night. And the next next night.”

Yet again, Bucky proved himself to be worthy of another chance. Because he drove you home the next night, and the next next night. It went on until he regained your trust back and all was well enough for him to finally reveal the black velvet box that he had been keeping in his pocket since the night of your eventful reunion.

“You need a password to see what’s inside.” Bucky grinned up at you as he bent down on one knee.

You chuckled through your years, “Any hint?”

“One word, three letters.”

You wiped away your tears with a smile followed by a subtle nod.

“Yes.”

Bucky kept his promise all along, he really did put a ring on your finger. Took quite a while with plenty of obstacles that caused its delay, but a promise fulfilled nonetheless.

-

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[lilysdaydreams]

Praise Bingus (No fucking way)

→  I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don't think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Angst and fluff. (FLUFF IS COMING I SWEAR)

→ Words: 3.9k

→ In a world where everyone is born with a mark on their wrist, two souls come together over the power of bingus.

→ (this isnt crack lol)

→ Warnings: Lots of swearing, um self-depreciation? rejection (kinda) and negative thoughts overall. Sorry im new to warnings.

→ Authors Note: this is the first time im doing like angst so please tell me if I did well? Um also, I’ve already started on the part 2 so keep your eyes out for that. If you wanna be tagged for part two please comment and lemme know. Also check out my other fics if you want!

→ Buy me a coffee

Part two  →    

~~~

Soulmates were a phenomenon. They'd been there for ages, drawn into the Egyptian tomb paintings, seen in the cave paintings from millions of years ago, talked about in stories passed down from generation to generation. They could be matching drawings, first words, names; all black before the soulmates met and turning gold the moment they talked to each other. There wasn't a scientist in the world who could explain the phenomenon.

You'd received your mark at birth just like everyone else, a sentence running around your wrist,

"No fucking way."

Your parents weren't that happy when you asked at the age of 4 what "fucking" meant but it wasn't that bad. You were happy that you had something unique, something other than the "Hi," or "Excuse me," that was on every other arm.

When you were 13, a little girl on the train pointed to your wrist and asked her mom what it meant. Ever since then, you'd taken to wearing bracelets over it. This had turned out to be a good idea because a few years later you started making Youtube videos. At the age of 16, you started a Youtube channel where you focused on a variety of things; makeup, fashion, games, art, skits and a whole lot more.

At the age of 20, you had a steady following of a little more than a million subscribers, and you had moved to LA to be closer to all your Youtube friends. You hadn't just grown on Youtube, you'd also started a lot of side projects. You were known for the art that you did on the side, along with the makeup palette you'd come out with a year ago. Soon you were planning to release a merch collection, one that you had been working on for a whole year now.

You hadn't met your soulmate at this point but honestly, you didn't really mind. Balancing Youtube and study (along with all your other side projects) was hard. There was no need to add the struggle of love into it... Or that's what you told yourself anyways.

There were days though, days where you wished you had someone to hug, someone to cuddle in bed with, someone to go on long walks with. You didn't let yourself wallow on it that long though. Crying about it was gonna do absolutely nothing.

It started on a rainy day. The story of you and him. You were editing your soon to be uploaded video, an e-girl outfits lookbook, which had been requested by your followers. Your personal style was all over the place and your previous soft girl and cottage care look books had done well, so you decided to continue the series.

You eyes blurred as you looked at the same point of the video, and you sighed, removing your glasses and rubbing your eyes. Your editor was sick and had let you know that they wouldn't be able to edit it by the deadline so here you were, editing it yourself. You stretched in your chair letting out a yawn. You were contemplating on whether to make coffee or not when your phone pinged.

"Nooooo" you whined when you noticed it was on the coffee table that was just a little out of your reach. Stretching your foot out, you tried to grab it between your toes and then sighed when the phone fell.

"I have zero luck, I swear" you muttered to yourself, bending to pick up the phone.

The text was from Rae, asking you to join a game of Among Us. You and Rae had been friends for a bit now, which all started when she came across your art and decided to order something from you. You had chatted and clicked immediately, immediately becoming fast friends. Ever since the lockdown started, she often asked you to join in on Among us games and your friendship had really grown over these past few months.

You sent a quick "sure!" and then went to your table, waiting for the PC to turn on. Quickly tweeting out that you were streaming, you opened up Youtube and turned on the stream, saying a quick hello and letting them know what you'd be doing.

"Rae just invited me guys, I don't really know who's there," you mumbled, replying to a comment asking you who you were playing with.

You squinted your eyes, joining the voice chat and then opening your phone camera to quickly check that you didn't look horrible. Sure you didn't really care about how you looked but it was always good to check that you didn't have anything stuck between your teeth before you turned on the camera.

There was already a conversation going on, between who you thought was Corpse and Sykkuno, judging by their voices.

"Yeah I could totally do that. Get a cat and name it Bingus. I wonder if th-"

You gasped when you heard what they were talking about and unmuted yourself immediately yelling "PRAISE LORD BINGUS" and effectively shocking everyone in the chat.

A moment of silence and then Rae yelled: "OH MY FUCKING GOD Y/N, YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME."

You giggled as everyone groaned and whined, saying hi as they realised who it was. You had played with Sykkuno and the others a few times before but you'd never met Corpse before. You'd heard his voice though, as he was trending on twitter constantly over the past few weeks. Once they all quietened down, you realised Corpse hadn't said anything. Since you knew everyone else in the lobby, you introduced yourself, wondering if you'd scared him a bit too hard.

"Hey Corpse, I'm Y/N from Y/C/N, its so nice to finally meet you," you said gritting your teeth at you awkward introduction. For a second there was no response and then three words were said that made your jaw drop to the floor.

"No fucking way"

He had whispered it, obviously still in shock, and your eyes widened in surprise as a tingle spread all over your body. So this was what everyone meant by "you'll just know," when you asked them about how you would recognize your soulmate.

"Holy shit" you thought frozen in your seat.

Never had you been more glad that you hadn't turned the camera on yet.

"Uhhhh-" you started, but stopped now knowing what to say.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now.

"Wha- Whats wrong?" Rae asked after a moment passed.

Corpse cleared his throat and started "Its um, shes my -" and you cut him off, heart beating in your chest.

"Nothing. Its nothing." you said talking over him. "Who else are we waiting for Rae?" you asked joining the lobby quickly and choosing red as your colour.

"Uh one more person," she said slowly, still a bit confused.

"Oh awesome!" you said fake enthusiasm prevalent in your voice. "So Sykkuno," you started, wanting to keep the conversation going. "How's Bimbus doing?"

Sykkuno launched into a story of Bimbus and you blew out a sigh of relief, mind still numb over the revelation.

Corpse was your soulmate.

The guy who had literally went viral the past few weeks was your soulmate.

You'd finally found him.

You heard Rae cut Sykkuno off, telling everyone she was starting the game and muttered a "Thank god" when the words "CREWMATE" appeared on your screen. You would not have been able to play imposter at the moment, your mind pretty much stuck on the fact that Corpse was your fucking soulmate.

Heading down to admin, you realised you hadn't said anything yet to the stream so you quickly turned on your cam, saying a quick sorry to the viewers.

"Sorry guys, I forgot to put the camera on," you smiled focusing on card swipe.

"I hope everyone's been okay, I know this was quite sudden, but Rae invited me and I was like why not you know," you said rambling as you moved to comms and did the task there.

Lights were called and you moved to electrical, arriving there just as Leslie fixed them. You moved into the back of electrical doing the three tasks you had there when Sykkuno suddenly came in and went straight to standing on top of the vent.

You giggled already knowing his trick.

"Okay guys," you mumbled watching Sykkuno wiggle on the vent. "do we trust Sykkuno or not?"

"You know what," you said making a split second decision. "Its the first game, we might as well."

Joining him on the vent, you stilled for a second and then breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't automatically kill you.

"See, what did I tell you guys huh?" you question smiling straight at the camera. "I knew Sykkuno could be trusted."

You decided to follow Sykkuno going into reactor with him and starting 'Simon says' and just as you were on the last part, a body was found making you let a whine out.

"Guysss," you whined to the camera as Rae started talking about how she had found Daves body in admin.

"Um, I havent been in admin since the start of the game," you said, "also I can clear Sykkuno, for the last part of the round, he's been with me since lights went out."

Sykkuno confirmed it, "Yup that's right, also I can hard clear Y/N cuz guess what? She stood on the vent with me and none of us died."

Everyone chuckled as he said "Thats good enough for me."

"Uh, I was in navigation mostly." said Lily.

"Poki, can I just ask what you were doing?" said Sean, an undercurrent of mirth present.

"Me?" asked Poki speaking for the first time. "What was I doing?"

"You weren't doing any tasks, you were literally just walking from one side of medbay to the other when I peeked in."

Poki started laughing, trying to get her words out at the same time.

"Okay so-" a giggle. "okay okay- I was just, I was trying to um do the beep test," she said finally breaking down and making everyone else laugh as well.

"What the fuck?" you said, laughing at the image in your mind.

"My chat told me to do it last game so I decided to do it now, I was literally just playing around," she said finally, adding "I swear I'm not imposter" at the end.

"Hmmm," you hummed, bringing a hand up to stroke your chin. "Are you sure it was last game Poki... hm...."

Giggling at Poki indignant "YES it was last game", you quickly skipped voting like everyone else as the timer went into the last ten seconds.

Humming a tune under your breath, you went back to reactor, taking a minute to carefully do Simon says and then moved to the other task counting out one two three as you pressed on the numbers. Humming, you moved out of reactor, only to come face to face with Corpse. You paused for a second, and then moved ahead, refusing to show anything on camera. For some reason he followed you as you went to storage, looking at you while you did the trash.

"Why is he just staring?" you mumbled, biting your lip. God, you really didn't wanna think of him right now. You started walking to shields, him still walking with you when lights were called and not a second later a body was reported.

Suddenly there was screaming your ears as Toast and Rae both started accusing each other.

"Wait- Wait WAIT" yelled Poki trying to get them to stop. "What happened?"

"I'll explain" declared Rae, not letting toast get a word in. "We were in navigation okay, me, Toast and Leslie. Lights went out, and suddenly a report buttons there. It's either Toast or someone came in just as lights went out and killed but that doesn't seem likely because I didn't see anyone anywhere near us at all. Anyways I'm fucking telling the truth guys, its Toast, he's the one who did it."

"Toast, do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked Corpse, his voice making your insides shiver.

"Holy shit, this is my soulmate", you thought for the fiftieth time.

"Uh yeah," replied toast. "I didn't do it."

Everyone laughed as he continued.

"Like seriously, I wouldn't do anything like this because it'd be a stupid move from my own part, and I think Raes smart enough to not do this as well. I think someone else came in just as lights went down and killed immediately, which to be honest, was pretty smart of them."

"Okay so I can clear Corpse," you cut in noticing the timer was close. "he was with me in weapons when it happened, he wouldn't have had time to go all the way up, or even vent there because we were literally walking in."

"Yup that's right," confirmed corpse.

"I'm in cafeteria" said Poki.

"Yeah, I saw her on my way to weapons," said Sykkuno, "and I'm in weapons right now,"

"I'm in lower engine" said Sean, and Lily said she was in reactor.

"I think it's Toast," you mumbled and then rose your voice to talk over everyone. "Look okay fine, maybe he said it was a stupid move and he wouldn't do it but maybe he did it for that exact reason. He thought he could get away with it because no one would expect him to do something like that."

As the timer started going down by 10, you voted for Toast and it turned out 3 had skipped the vote while five had voted for him.

damn.

"Guys you actually voted for him?" you said in a high voice, re-enacting one of Sykkunos most said lines.

You heard a "oh for gods sake" from Rae before everyone went silent and you giggled as you moved back down to weapons to do your tasks.

You finished all your tasks and decided to go to security to check where everyone is. Humming as you moved through the electrical hallway, you narrowed your eyes as Corpse came out of electrical and went towards storage. Quickly ducking in you didn't see a body so you headed back out, going into cams and gasping as you saw the body. Reporting immediately you were shocked to see the four kills that had happened. Now only you, Corpse, Sean and Rae were left.

"Oh my god," you mumbled confused. Either there were still two imposters, and Toast wasn't the imposter or the imposter literally killed and did nothing else. Now either that could mean that its definitely Rae if Toast wasn't the imposter, or that it was Corpse as the only imposter left. That was a bit weird though becuase he could have totally killed you at the start of the game. You didn't suspect Sean at all.

"What the fuck?" mumbled Corpse, and Rae made her animal noises expressing her shock.

"Okay," you said taking charge and relaying the kill and your theory to everyone. "So either it was Toast and there's only one other imposter, who is Corpse. Or Toast wasn't an imposter and there's two of them left. I-" you took a deep breath in at the end, very confused. " I don't know anymore,"

"I think its Corpse as well,"

Corpse who hadn't said anything up till this moment suddenly started stammering out "hey-hey uh let-lets not gang up on me okay. It's not-"

"No, wait, its because Y/N said you came out of electrical right, and I saw you in upper engine literally a bit ago and you went down. I went towards cafeteria so I don't know exactly where you went but its totally possible that you killed."

You voted form him after that, convinced it was Corpse, and the other followed quickly.

"Guys what the fuck, at least give me a chance to explain my self" he whined when his body was thrown off the ship seconds later. You cheered when the "VICTORY" sign was displayed across the screen, bringing up your chat and laughing at Toast as he pretended to be angry at me.

"That was a great round, good work Y/N"

"Thankyou" you mumbled staring at your chat. You were confused when you saw the absolute influx of messages on there, and you were barely able to read them because they were going so fast. You scrolled up, and read through the few of the messages;

"You've made corpse sad."

"Corpse has literally been so quite since you came in, can you leave."

"Omg stop with the hate messages, its not her fault if corpse isn't talking to you"

"are you his ex or something? What was that reaction at the start?"

"what did you do? Corpse literally hasn't said a word since you came in."

"Um..."

Corpse POV

Corpses heart stopped for a minute, his breath catching. The words on his wrist glowed gold, and he stared at the little red character standing there.

This person was the reason that he had "PRAISE BINGUS" stretched across his wrist.

They were the only reason that he had searched "Bingus" on google for all of his life. The only reason Corpse knew about the meme before anyone else was because he was constantly monitoring the word online. Ever since March, he had been waiting with bated breath, anxious that he could meet his soulmate at any moment. and here you were.

For some reason, he had never expected that he would meet you in among us, or while he was on stream. He always thought it'd be someone outside. It was a bit stupid in hindsight as all he did nowadays was play among us.

He heard you introduce yourself to him but the only thing that came out of his mouth was “No fucking way”.

Immediately after he wanted to slap himself.

“Idiot” he thought to himself. “At least try to make a good impression.”

When Rae asked what was wrong, heat sprung to his cheeks as he started revealing that they were soulmates, but Y/N cut him off, saying that it was nothing.

Corpse’s heart sank a little then.

'Maybe she’s just a private person,' he reasoned with himself.

'I shouldn’t have tried to say it on stream either. God, I’m a fucking idiot, if I said it, literally everyone would know and not only would I have hated the attention, she probabaly would have as well.'

Convincing himself that she was right, he reassured himself that it wasn’t because of him. She wasn’t revealing it because she probably didn't want all the attention.

For some reason though, his heart sank even more when Y/N didnt talk to him, instead talking to sykkuno about his dog. Like sure he could understand not wanting to reveal they were soulmates but shouldn’t she at least wanna talk to him? At this point he wouldn’t even mind if she talked about his voice like everyone else.

He groaned when the word "Imposter" came across his screen, his and Toasts character standing together. He was not in the right mindset right now to be able to be a good imposter. Breathing in deeply he continued in the game, with the first round passing by quick. The second round, he saw Y/N and stood with her for a bit wondering if he should kill her. Her red character moved to weapons and he sighed moving the mouse over the kill button. Just as he was thinking of clicking a body was found. Corpse swore as Toast flew off the ship. Deciding he needed to speed it up he killed four people in the round, hissing when the meeting was called. The moment Y/N accused him, he knew it was over. He didn't even bother defending himself much, just hoping the game would end soon.

When they were in the lobby, he quickly told everyone that he was going to leave because his internet was acting up. Turning off the stream after saying a quick thank you to everyone, he leaned back in his seat breathing through his nose.

What the fuck was his life.

Even his soulmate didnt want him. Honestly, he should have expected this. Abandoned at 12 with no one around him, why did his expect his soulmate to even give a fuck about him. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked trying to get rid of them. He breathed in deeply, grabbing the water on the table and taking a big gulp. He had never hated himself more than he did right now. Why couldnt he have an easier life.

“Why cant I just fucking be NORMAL” he yelled throwing the empty bottle of water at the wall.

Throwing himself into bed, he scrunched up his eyes, hoping that sleep would come today, not noticing as his phone lit up with a single message.

Your POV

You stayed for another game and then ducked out apologizing and making an excuse up.

"Sorry it was such a short stream, everyone," you said pouting at the camera. "It was fun though so hopefully I get to do it again." Waving goodbye, you turned off the camera and leaned your head back staring at the ceiling.

What the actual fuck.

Grabbing your phone, you stared at it for a bit. Everything that you had pushed to the back of your mind in the game, was suddenly in the forefront.

The only thing you knew about Corpse was that he had a really deep voice, he narrated horror movies, and he maybe did music?

'Rae mentioned that once right?' you thought to yourself.

You unlocked the phone and then locked it again, too scared to actually do anything.

Unlocked.

Locked.

Unlocked.

Locked.

"Oh get a grip," you muttered to yourself, opening the phone and sending a text to Rae.

‘Hey Rae, do you have corpses number? Do you mind sending it to me, I need to tell him something.’

A reply came in a minute,

‘umm, why. he's pretty private so idk i don't rlly wanna give his number if he doesn't want someone to have it’

You sighed, and decided you might as well tell her. You knew Rae wouldn't betray your trust.

‘He's my soulmate’

Immediately a ‘AHDJHAKJKAGDAK’ came as a reply and you giggled at the string of emojis after it.

‘Don't tell anyone,’ you sent quickly, trying to calm her down.

‘Okay okay, its XXX - XXX - XXXX, ASHAGDH IM DYING OMG. GO TALK TO HIM.’

Biting your lip you added Corpse into your contacts hesitating before putting a small black heart next to his name.

"Already simping," you mumbled under your breath, hands hovering over the keyboard as you struggled to think of what to write.

You finally decided on 'Hey, its Y/N, can I call?' thinking that something short would be the best way to go. Hand hovering over the send button, you sucked in a breath and pressed it, waiting with bated breath.

A minute passed.

And then five.

And then, without you even you realising, it'd been half an hour of you just looking at your phone.

An hour later, you were slumped on your desk, eyes closed and snoring lightly, the phone still open, the message you sent lighting up the screen.

tbc.

[everyhowlmarksthedead]

All night long.

CHIBS TELFORD.  ┃ SOA.

❝ request by @filipthescot: Holaaaaa mi amooooor!! If you feel like it, I'd love to read Prompt 4 from the smut list with my man Filip😇💚

❝ request by @ladyreapermc: Number 2 for the smut prompts with my favorite Scot Chibs? Please? 🙏🏻

❝ request by @irenne-stans: Could you do the fluff promt #10 with Chibs please 🥺💗

❝ prompts: “One more cheesy pick up line and I’m gonna bend you over the table and fuck you in front of everyone”. / “I know you think about me at night”. / “It smells like… I don't know… jealousy?”

❝ words: about 1.4k.

❝ warnings: nsfw, smut, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, mention of bodily fluids, explicit thoughts, language, and i think that's all.

Gif credits to the author.

MASTERLIST.

Chibs is burning in rage watching you flirt with the new prospect, sitting on the bar with a glass of whisky in his hand and the other arm over the clingy wood. He's trying to figure out what it's been so fun to make you laugh this way. He's a man of jokes too and he hasn't seen you like that with him. That's pissing him off. And all that he wants to do right now is to put his gun on that guy, where the sun doesn't shine and blow out his guts.

But he has to pretend he wasn't looking at you like a maniac the moment you turn around to walk straight to the bar and grab another beer. Resting your forearms on the edge to wait for your drink, you tilt your head towards him.

“What's that face for? Someone told you Nessie doesn't exist, uh?”

Slowly, too slowly, he moves his eyes from the prospect to you. Annoyed. About to punch anyone that crosses his path right now.

“'Am not having fun like ye, that' fo' sure”. Chibs replies, taking a sip from his drink.

You frown funnily at his words, not really believing what is happening right there. “It smells like… I don’t know… jealousy?”

Waving a hand close to his face, you pretend to be smelling the environment around the two of you, before he slaps it playfully as you finally have erased the sour grimace from his face.

“C'mon, Chibsy. Don't deny what is clear to my eyes”.

“Ye're blind, lass”.

About to challenge him, you take a step closer placing your index finger on his collarbone, dragging it over his shirt down through his torso. You see him gulping inevitably, clicking his tongue with feigned annoyance, putting your eyes away from yours. “I know you think about me at night”.

Chibs purses his lips not enjoying that game you're playing and, that under his opinion, will end up worshipping himself in the darkness of his room while thinking about you —like uncountable times he has done.

“The prospect had the balls to talk with me, but he's a five on my scale”.

“Bad luck fo' him”.

“Good for you, isn't it?” You say poking the tip of his nose graciously, earning again his complete attention. “From one to ten, you're a nine and I'm the one you need”.

The Scottish man chokes on his drink as the liquid falls through the wrong side, making him cough while cleaning his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyebrows are frowned angrily, thinking you're just making fun of him.

“Stop playen'”.

“I'm not playing, but if you want, I know a game. It's called Titanic”.

Rubbing his face with his free hand, Chibs snorts deeply, laying his eyes on you waiting for a continuation or an explanation.

“You can be the ocean and I'll go down on you”.

“One mo' cheesy pickup line and amma bend ye over the table and fuck ye in front of everyone”.

Licking and biting your bottom lip, you grab the glass in his hand to empty it with a gulp to leave it over the bar, an instant before gripping your fingers around his wrist to drag him straight to the dorms. You've been waiting too much time for this to happen. And yes, maybe you were playing at first, tasting the water. But he wasn't lying when he has threatened you. Of course, you two earn more attention than you could expect, when the crew watches you disappearing from the party —between cheers and claps and finallys.

As soon as you're locked inside his room, your lips crash with his. You're too necessitated, so is he; devouring your mouth while your fingers manage to undo his belt and the zip of his jeans. Chibs grunts with his tongue inside your cavity and his huge hands squeezing your ass, anxious to feel that same warm wrapping around all his hard length. And you aren't going to make him wait, having the same burning desire for tasting him.

Pushing him to the nearest wall, reclining his back against it, you roll down his black tight jeans and boxers to his ankles —as promised, you kneel. Chibs can't take off his eyes from yours, looking at you begging in silence to alleviate the bittersweet pain concentrated in his hardness. God, he has dreamt about this thousands of times. Your tongue swirling around his dick, your throat welcoming him, your lips sucking his soul out from his body.

So when you fill your mouth with his thick length until your nose touches his pelvis, Filip can't help but close his eyes uttering a pleased grunt echoing the room. His fingers land automatically on your head, forcing you to hold his reddened glans against your walls, making you gag vibrating his whole anatomy. He could cum just by feeling these same shivers another time.

“For chrissake…” He moans swinging your head back and forth, whilst your left hand massages his balls.

Chibs has never felt this good. He's trying to keep calm and control himself from fucking your mouth as he'd like to do right now. Brutality, fastly, without mercy. He can't wait to see his cream spilling down the curves of your lips, making you choke on his dick.

“God… Ye look so beautiful”. He whispers as good as he can.

His vocals cause you to smile somehow, increasing the pace of your dance wrapping his whole extension with the only intention of driving him crazy. And you're getting it, preventing Chibs from breathing quietly. A mix of gasps and whining comes from the deepest place of his soul, helping you with the rhythm needed for more. He buries his dick down your throat, filling your cavity and forcing your walls until your uvula trembles above his most sensitive skin.

He knows he's so close, ashamed for not lasting more than a couple of minutes. He's a man that can please you all night long, but the wait has wreaked havoc in him. Too much time spent on imagining how it would feel. Too much time spent on imagining himself pawing your body, nailing his ringed fingers into your soaked cunt. Too much time spent on imagining hearing you moan his name, begging him to let you cum while riding his face.

And of course, he's going to fulfill his fantasies tonight, leaving your legs shaking and your pussy flooded by his seed.

Just to think about it, Chibs has to contain his breathing when you abuse your throat one last time, feeling how he empties his heat inside your mouth. Ripping his chest by swallowing a loud delighted grunt, as his hands continue pressing your head deeper, you cough slightly until he loosens his grip. Filip doesn't give you time to recover, urging you to stand up, colliding your mouth to taste himself in your saliva. The best combination he has ever savored.

With a tight hand gripping your throat he makes you turn around, pinning you to the wall, using the other to eagerly roll up the gems of your dress and push down your wet panties enough to slam to curved fingers inside you. You cry out with his lips stuck in yours, pounding you with so much savageness that he needs to husk you, or the whole Charming will hear you.

“Ye… Bad girl… Playen' with the prospect ti make me feel jealous…” He groans huskily, not being able to think about it as his thrusts cloud your head. “Gonna make ye understand why whiskey is better than bourbon”.

“Please, Ch— Chibs… I fucking beg you”.

You want him to fuck you, that's evident. You want him to fuck you in every single possible position, in every single corner of this damn town. And he's going to do it —but…

“Say ye're sorre”. He hisses onto your ear, nailing his fingers as much deep as he can, forcing your limits and pushing them to beyond. “Say ye're sorre fo' making me wait, fo' playen with me”.

“I am… I a— am sorry”. You sob placing your hands on his shoulders looking for some balance, as he raises you on your tiptoes. “I am so sorry, Chibsy… Please… Please, fuck me”.

“'Corse I will, my love. Till ye beg me again, but ti stop”.

If you've liked it, lemme know in a comment, I’d really appreciate it. Reblogs are welcome too, so more people can enjoy it! ✨

GENERAL TAG LIST: @mayans-sauce @peoniarose @destynelseclipsa @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @Jessprins13 @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @kenbechillin @miahelen @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak

SOA: @multiyfandomgirl40 @countryash345 @skyofficialxx @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @purrrrfect @witching-hour @leathercladmenfics @encounterthepast @aphroditeandheraweremarried @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @queenbeered @gemini0410 @pinguinstudiert @meteora-fc @arveeee @joupym @missswritings @hanster1998 @cubblycie @arana-alpha @kid-from-new-zealand @lucillewinchester @pedritomando @mariska0610

[caroldantops]

hey! im quite new here and i have seen a lot of talk about readers interactions and i was wondering what is the best way to support my favorite writers (like you) because i think i have been doing this wrong and i really want to support writers who do this<3 ps. sorry if that was confusing, english isnt my first language

not confusing at all babes! you're 100% clear.

also can i just say, i very much appreciate you asking this. i would much rather more people speak up and be like "hey, we dont know the best way to support our favorite writers so how can we?" other than just. Not Knowing and Not Doing Anything.

so, im going to speak from my own personal experience but also what ive seen many of my mutuals/writers i follow talk about. this might get a little long but i wanna answer as thoroughly as i can because people should know!

im putting it under a read more because it got hella long, but please i encourage everyone who reads fics but don't interact to read and consider these things.

fellow writers i encourage you to reblog and add any other commentary you think is helpful!

before anything else (this is absolutely not directed at you, anon, you're perfect), i just want to get this out of the way. never come to a writer's blog and get angry with them for complaining about lack of engagement. like jesus christ. writers are putting hours of work on tumblr for you for free. the least we ask is for comments and reblogs. that's it. if you go and act shitty towards writers who ask for more engagement, yet still follow and wait for the next fic, like what are you even doing bro. just stop.

anyway. now let's get to the actual question!

basically all writers on tumblr will agree, reblogs are vital. and i feel like that gets said a lot but maybe people dont actually understand how impactful it is so lemme give an example.

so let's say hypothetically i have 100 followers. that is 100 potential people who see a fic that i post (i say potential because timezones exist so you might not see it as it's posted)

and let's say one of my followers (Person A) reblogs it, and they have 50 followers. that's 50 more people that can read the fic.

and let's say Person B followers Person A and they also reblog it to their 50 followers.

with only two people reblogging a fic, that's already doubling the number of people who have read the fic.

now imagine Person C followers Person A and reblogs the fic, and Person C has like, 1,000 followers. that's so much more exposure for the writer.

and that's only from two followers of the writer. so imagine if all 100 that read the fic reblogged it? the numbers skyrocket at an exponential rate.

plus, more people reading means that the writer could get more people follow them. so they get a more consistent audience.

likes, on the other hand, do not guarantee this exposure. i would say that most people don't have their likes public on tumblr. and also, even if they do, i know that I'm not about to scroll through people's likes rather than scrolling thru their blogs. likes up the notes, and that's about it. of course i understand liking a fic so you can come back to it later, i do that all the time. but if I've liked a fic, i always reblog it once I've read it.

now, say you're reading hardcore smut that you might not want on your main blog for whatever reason, so that's why you don't reblog a fic. look, i get it. sometimes irl people follow your blog, or sometimes you just don't want people to know what you're getting up to. but that's why i made a sideblog specifically for fics.

this entire blog BEGAN as a way for me to reblog fics i liked. and then it grew and grew and grew into all this. not saying that you have to start writing if you do that of course, but i guarantee, i'd rather see a small sideblog blog with like 3 followers reblog my fic than a blog just like the fic and leave. because that's still 3 more people who will see my fic and possibly read it and reblog it. 3 is better than none.

comments. reblogs are important, but comments are really what keep writers writing. they inspire us with new ideas, help figure out what it is that people enjoy from us, help us improve our writing, and most importantly, they make us feel good. and like writing and posting is worth it.

now, i know that sometimes it can feel awkward reblogging with a comment directly on the post. i even usually don't do that unless it's with a friend. but here are some alternatives/tips!

send an ask or DM! if you're really intimidated, sending an anonymous message is by far the easiest way to bypass that awkwardness.

write in the tags!! i cannot express this enough. comment in the tags. ramble about the fic. just put three tags worth of screaming. literally ANY comments in the tags are my favorite thing. i promise you that writers will scroll thru like basically every tag.

also, if they post it on both tumblr and ao3, don't feel weird about giving a little comment on both! i do that all the time. you can even be like 'hey i read this on tumblr first but wanted to say again how much i enjoyed it' and that is like, heart burstingly nice to hear.

also, if you're having trouble coming up with something to say, my like top commenting tip as both a writer and a reader is point out something specific that you like about the fic. when i comment on a fic (this is moreso when i comment on ao3 bc my comments are always longer there) i try to point out a particular line i like. literally if you just copy and paste it and go 'wow i really really like this line especially' that is the number one way to a writer's heart. seriously. it's the simplest thing, but it makes SUCH an impact.

however, if your comments are only asking for more fics, then that's not a comment, that's a request (which not all writers take).

saying something like 'hey i loved this fic a lot! if you have more in store for this in the future, i'd be really excited to read it!' is a million times better than 'will you do a part 2'. i know they don't sound that different, but i promise you that the tone makes a big difference.

(i honestly have more thoughts about good ways to get over commenting fear/know what exactly to comment that doesn't feel generic, so if people would like me to make another post about it i'd do it.)

and last but not least, if the writer has a way to donate, like a ko-fi, that always is so appreciated. of course, take care of yourself first, but if you have a few bucks and wanna show some support to your faves, that's a great way to help :)

oh! also, if the writer ever reblogs those little ask game things, just send them something! engagement outside of writing is also so much appreciated.

i think that's about everything i can think of! i hope this is helpful and that my explanations weren't confusing (if i need to clarify anything let me know). and again, thank you so much for asking! even doing that shows that you're a reader who cares, and that means the world ❤

[laurelier]

harry and the female orgasm is part of the mermaidrry narrative

I should........ just leave it at this tbh. Cause that's it. Ya said it, sweet punk mermaid.

But. I am me. So. I will ramble.

Under the cut.

(glorious happyjoyfulbeautiful gif by you, post here <3)

For starters, I agree with you here Ella that what WS really makes me think of more than anything is just—the importance of the human capacity for pleasure. The joy in it. And it makes me happy, honestly, that Harry is making room within his work for that in a way that includes women, women's experiences, women's sensations. It suggests to me that there's room within him to consider women's pleasure—and that could mean a lot of things, whether we take what he said at its apparent face value or not.

And here hang on lemme just quote @swimmingleo here for a sec literally leo I'm so sorry i feel like i tag you 28369 times in every single rant i ever make on this goddam website i'm such a menace in your notifs fnndsfnd you said this so well here:

...if queer!Harry beliefs are crumbling tonight because for some people you can’t possibly write about something you don’t know, well good riddance cuz if there’s one thing I hate it’s entertaining the idea that gay men are allowed to find pussies disgusting and not knowing shit about female anatomy. I’m glad Harry isn’t one of them and doesn’t mind if his song is claimed by women, at least.

Exactly. I think Harry being inclusive of and celebrating women's experiences in his music here is compelling and exciting and generous. Because, again, that's what I think it is: celebration. Given the way H has talked about this song in the past, and given the lyrics, it feels to me like he could have been saying that this song is, in part, an exploration and a celebration of what the idea of female orgasm could represent to him.

AND as I'm writing this dear leo has also literally JUST brought their BDSM post back for us all to peruse as we saw H boppin around Nasvhille with a chains and whips shirt on and. They pointed out that it feels.... it just feels right that this shirt should come on the day after the WS comment and I absolutely could not agree more because I see these two nods to sex as like. Linked by the idea of taboo, the idea of shame. I'm not equating the discourse around BDSM to the one around women coming, but in our sex-negative misogynistic culture, there's certainly a tendency to judge and shame both of those things—as there is with so many aspects of sexuality—and seeing this today just convinces me more that Harry is interested in making statements about freedom and liberation and the toxicity of shame in his art, in his persona. Highlighting the specifically female orgasm in a celebratory song about the ephemerality and preciousness of human pleasure feels really in line with that.

Whoo yal thought this was pretentious already and now it's about to get a whole lot worse man I'm sorry for the turn this is about to take. The female orgasm as a concept is really what I'm zoning in on here out of all this, given what H actually said—literally just that the song was "about the female orgasm", and left it at that. It just made me think so much of how in the 1960s/70s second-wave feminist discourse was really centered around the embodied experience of women—and a lot of rhetoric about the inherent mystery and wisdom and knowledge of women's bodies, the idea of their connection to the cycles of nature and the universe etc etc, came out of that—which, in the wrong hands, is essentialist, cis-centric, and reductive, but theoretically/historically, it's an interesting thought line. (Also, "In Watermelon Sugar" was published in 1968, so that's maybe irrelevant but sort of fun?)

Just—like. As always, I'm not speaking for H, I'm really trying not to. But given what discussions about the embodied sexual experiences of women have historically said re: empowerment and the nature of "feminine" knowledge, the THIS IS ABOUT CELEBRATING A WOMAN COMING thing feels to me like it could be playing with gender. It feels like he's trying to intimately explore ideas and feelings associated with an intense and vulnerable and beautiful bodily female experience, and merge that with the whole psychedelic connected-to-the-universe losing-yourself-in-bliss thing he's also got going on in this song. All the lyrics like "I just wanna taste it / I want your belly" and on and on? I don't really hear "I want to give you an orgasm" there as loudly as I do: I want to know what happens in your belly. I want to taste what you feel. I want that feeling in my own body; I want to receive what it gives me, see what it shows me. However that connection happens.

And: the fact that he said "female orgasm" without saying anything about vaginas—and because WS is a song that doesn’t not lend itself to being also maybe gay, or just sexual pleasure in general—to use Leo's word, it's inclusive. It includes female orgasms that don't happen in cis bodies. It acknowledges that regardless of anatomy, all female orgasm-havers have the ability to feel the pleasure and euphoria that can bring—can feel this supposed deep, "feminine" connection with something almost universal, a little death, an ego death. Considered through a kind of adapted second-wave lens, the big O is a powerful concept: this space that the "female orgasm" can make for you within yourself, your own body, your own pleasure—to connect you with things outside yourself, even, if we wanna get really 70s—especially when that pleasure is something that capital-M Men can't understand, can't access, or don't have use for. In a way, female pleasure, cis and trans, becomes representative of the things They can’t touch.

Like, maybe last night's comment really was just a move to reinforce a comphet narrative, sure. I hope not. But. Even if it is that in part, this was still a really vague statement; it's still H famously playing both sides of the fence, appealing to all kinds of narratives—and I wish we wouldn't let the het reaction to this ruin our ability to see what could be a possibly really multilayered and really lovely thing he's saying here with this song, with the inclusion of the "female" bit. Or, more conservatively, I guess—I wish we wouldn't let it erase our ability to take beautiful things out of what Harry says for ourselves, regardless of what's in his inaccessible pretty little head.

FOOTNOTE I just want to mention also before I scurry away that I'm also bothered by the way I'm hearing some of us say that it was inappropriate for Harry to mention the "female orgasm" (in truly such innocent terms, that's literally all he said) to a crowd that included a lot of young female fans. It's a short leap from that to saying that women's sexuality is a dirty thing, or that it should be hidden and taboo. And I'm sure it's clear by now that I think the ethos of Watermelon Sugar is exactly the opposite of that? But really I just would hope........ that we wouldn't want to go there. I would hope that we could see how harmful that is. I would hope that we'd be able to find it within ourselves to not have such a narrow vision of Harry as a human being that we can't celebrate the fact that he's celebrating something about female bodies that historically has been loaded down with a lot of sexist shame. End rant.

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Don’t Call Me That Anymore

Toshinori Yagi  x Reader 

Warnings:

Angst, body insecurity, big sad 

Alcohol

SPOILER UNDER THE CUT!

(Post Retirement All might)

You walked alongside your boyfriend, your hand being loosley connected to his via your pinky. You dragged him to your favorite thrift shop, where you often liked to try on fancy abandoned ball gowns and take photos. Or, on days where you felt a little more casual, you’d search for some interesting clothes to wear.

Everything was fine, the little outing going along as usual. He’d generally stay by your side, his eyes wandering from the dull clothes you often would pick through. 

It was when you heard a small gasp that you knew something was wrong. You glanced at the direction of his gaze, seeing an abandoned All Might figure laying on the floor, the price tag displaying proudly that it was 75% off. 

“Even to be on sale at a thrift store, eh?” he mumbled to himself. His hand clutched his chest, trying to physically push the pain down and out of his frail body. You tried to pretend like you didn’t notice, and guided him to another aisle. Silently, you planned to leave as soon as possible.

---------------------------------------days later---------------------------------

You scrolled through your phone mindlessly, not really caring about the outside world this very moment. All that mattered right now was your loving boyfriend, who was sitting on the other side of the couch. He was mindlessly scrolling through the tv channels.

Suddenly, he paused. You didn’t notice it, that subtle shift in his attitude, the slight tension that grew within him, and the tiny hitched breath.

He clicked on it, and on screen was...him. 

“So, All Might, what’s an average day like for you?” some well dressed reporter asked him. He flashed that crowd pleasing grin as he thought.

He had just finished fighting a villian, and had a small droplet of blood dripping down his forehead, threatening to drop into his intense yet amiable eyes.

“Well, I guess it’s like anyone else’s,” he said thoughtfully, “I just get up, drink some coffee, and-” the man on screen dissapeared, being replaced by a woman showing us the weekly weather. Again, Toshi said nothing, but his eyes were dark and his jaw was clenched. You grasped for his hand as he stood up. His knees popped and his back cracked, only reminding further that he was getting older and weaker. He clenched his fist and dissapeared into the bathroom.

You didnt know what to say or do, knowing that the wrong thing will only make things worse. Your heart ached deeply for him, but how could you help? Could you help?

That night, Toshi came home with something he usually never played with: alcohol. By this time, you had already forgotten about the incidents earlier.

“What’re you gonna do with that?” you teased. He smiled back weakly. Internally, his heart dropped. He’d been caught.

“You want some?” he offered nonchalantly. You nodded, taking a small shot. You never drank either, unlike other people your age, so when the alcohol passed your lips and slid down your throat, you couldn’t help yourself from sputtering and coughing. He patted your back gently.

“You alright there?” 

You nod, smiling a little. If you’re honest, things like that were always so embarrasing. You hated him see you act your age. 

He took a shot, too, smooth and quick. He noticed you stare, and grinned.

“I used to...a little, when I was younger.” 

After the last two words, his eyes grew dark again.

when I was younger.

He poured himself another shot, swigging it down like nothing. You still felt the burning warmth of the shot you’d taken. You couldn’t stop yourself from worrying about how he’d probably be feeling right about now.

“Hey, uh, Toshi... don’t drink too much too fast or you’re gonna get sick,” you gently suggested.

“I will be fine...don’t you worry about me,” he reassured. You nodded, but didn’t really believe him. Is he fine anyway?

You relaxed on the couch, playing a video game on the switch as Toshi occupied himself with the tv and a deck of cards. He loved to play solitaire, even after being mocked by the students at UA when he’d bust out his worn deck during breaks. 

Time passed, swiftly yet gently, but the silence got the better of you.

“Hey, Toshi, lemme get another shot of that stuff”

He didn’t respond. You looked up from the game to see that his cards were all mixed up, reds being on reds and the kings on top of the queens. He had his head gently resting on the cold, wooden table, eyes only staring at the tv blankly.

It’d been quite a few hours since he’d had his first shot, and it definately has worn in. Not too far from his card playing set up was a glass, 1/4 full of what you just assumed was orange juice. You now were suspicious, quietly taking it and giving it a sniff. 

It certainly was orange juice, but there was something mixed with it. The alcohol smell burned your nose. 

Your heart dropped, knowing that that orange juice was to the brim when he brought it in. 

“Toshi...”

He flinched at his name, but still didn’t say anything. His eyes, though glazed over and pitiful, were focused on something. You glanced up at the screen, where an All Might documentary played. 

You bent down to Toshi’s level, where he was sitting on the floor in front of the table, combing your fingers through his hair. 

“Toshi, look at me.”

His eyes lazily found your face. He brought up his hand to your cheek.

“I-I’m ffine, dea-darlin..g..” he stumbled out, his speech slurred and laborious. 

“Let’s get to bed, honey. I can help walk you there,” you offered. He protested futilely, as you pulled his arm over your shoulder and supported his weight with yours. He was mostly deadwight, making his 160 pounds feel more like thousands. You guided him down the hall, slowly but steadily, each step taking exponentially longer than a sober one would. He kept one hand on the wall.

His fingers grazed the frame of a photo. He looked at it.

It was All Might, proudly standing with a group of kids. 

Toshi couldn’t hold it in anymore. He stood up, shakily but on his own, and pulled his fist back, swinging at it. Glass landed everywhere, and a small hole in the wall stared back at him. 

He spit at the now broken photo at his feet.

“yo-you’re not e-ven real...n-no-not any...not anymore...I hate you...” he mumbled drunkenly. His hand fell limp to his side, scarlet blood shining against his pale, white skin. And dripping onto the floor.

You tried your best to hide your shock and you directed him into the bathroom, where the first aid kit was. He laid on the floor, pressing his face into the comforting coolness of the linoleom. You wanted to scream at him to knock it out, and to just get up, but you knew that even if he desperately wanted to, he wouldn’t be sober until the next morning. 

You looked down at his small, skinny form, that lay breathing on the bathroom tile. You'd never seen Toshi, in any form, look as weak as he did now. Your heart ached. This wasn’t him.

Suddenly, he shot up and lurched towards the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach. You rushed over to his side, moving his forelocks away from his face. He was pale, white as a sheet. The bags under his eyes were deeper and darker, and his usually bright blue eyes were dulled down to a muted navy. Tears pooled down his sunken cheekbones.

"n-no...go- get awa...y"

You said nothing, but ran cold water through a washrag, soaking it throughly. He remained hovering over the toilet, violently retching.

The alcohol was attacking his skinnied, sick body more than he thought it would. As you approached him with the rag in hand, he returned to the chilled floor.

You placed the rag on his sweaty forehead gently, rubbing his arm. He pushed you away as best as he could, still crying silently.

"p..ple-please, y/n...d-don't look at me...n-not like...not like this..." He choked out in-between sobs.

"I'm not going anywhere, babyboy. I'm sorry." You apologize, getting out some first aid supplies for his knuckles.

"...please...jus-just..."

You hushed him, gently taking his bloodied hand. He tried pulling away weakly, but to no avail.

"...let me...let me jus...take care of it...I can..." He mumbled. You paid him no mind as you quickly but effectively wrapped him up.

As soon as you were finished, he was back in front of the toilet again. Not much more was coming up, but the sickening retches and sobs still shook within his frail chest.

You bent down next to him, rubbing his back, whispering small words of praise and encouragement. He began to calm down a little as he sat against the wall of the bathroom. He started off into the distance.

"I...why can't I be like...like him anymore?" He muttered,

For a split second, you were confused.

“Like who, baby?”

His eyes stared into you, harsh enough to scald you. Realization hit.

“All Might?” You quietly asked, your hand moving towards his. He slapped it away half heartedly.

“n-no... that’s-he’s not- I-I’m not-“

He began to rip at his hair, his sobs getting louder and more violent. Fear grew inside of you, not knowing how to contain this small man that was so engulfed in despair and grief that he couldn’t see how wonderful he is as a person, not just as a hero.

Toshi got his worth from what he could do for others. He doesn’t feel like he deserves love, especially if he’s not giving it to someone else in just the right way. If he’s not helping anyone, what good is he? And in his smaller form, how could he help anyone?

You grabbed his wrists, making sure he couldn’t hurt himself anymore than he already has.

“Toshinori, please listen to me!” You begged. He went limp. He couldn’t catch his breath, and he was definitely hyperventilating.

“Take some nice, deep breaths for me, okay, sweetie?” You firmly yet sweetly ordered. You set the pace and he followed, his breaths shaky and labored. He calmed down quite a bit, and you loosened your grip on his wrists.

“Do you really love me?” He whimpered quietly.

“Oh, honey... of course I love you. I’ve always loved you, even before I knew who you were. Who you are.”

“You...you were right the first time. Were.”

“No, baby. When you go out in public, people still know you’re All Might, and-“

“Don’t... don’t call me... that name... please, not anymore.”

You didn’t even know how to respond to that. Your heart ached at his pitiful tone.

“Y/n... you don’t know what people... what they say about me now. They laugh and say that I’m just a toothpick. They... they whisper about how I don’t look so good, and about...” he began to cry again. This time, quietly, privately. He curled up into himself, tucking himself away from you and the rest of the world.

“Well, of course people will say things like that,” you began, “did you ever consider that there were some people who criticized All Might, too?”

“...what?”

“Listen, honeybee, people are always going to be saying bullshit like that. No matter who you are. But guess what? There’s always, always going to be more people who are excited to see you, who will always accept you, and who will always see every beautiful gift you have to offer to this world. I know how hard it’s been for you, but you need to know that you’re still so loved, so wanted, so needed in so many people’s lives.”

“Like who? Who could possibly...who could need someone like me?”

“Me. Toshi, I need you here. I love you. We met when you were in this form, in this very body. Don’t you remember?”

He nodded. You wiped away a tear gently.

“I loved you for who you are, not who you were or what you’ve done. For you.”

Shakily, he whispered, “I... I love you, too.”

For the first time that night, he clutched you closer to him. You pulled his head into your chest, as he nestled into you. You couldn’t help but spare a few tears, but he never knew that.

“Are you ready to go to bed?”

He nodded, his grip tightening around your shirt. You helped stand him up on his shakey, baby deer like legs. You led him down the hall, and he paused at the broken photo.

He gestured towards it, mumbling something.

“No, baby, don’t worry about that. I’m going to clean it all up.”

Finally, you arrived at the bed. You pulled back the duvet, readying it for him.

He laid into the soft mattress, sighing in relief.

You tucked him in, standing up. He reached his hand out, begging, “please...don’t leave...me...”

“I’m coming right back, honeydew. I just need to clean up the picture and turn everything off. Okay? Do you need a glass of water or anything?”

He shook his head. “Let... let me clean it up tomorrow, please.”

You ignored all of his pleas for you to leave him be earlier, but something told you that despite his drunken stupor, he really meant this one. You washed your face and tidied up the bathroom, quickly turning off the tv and getting his cards put up, and finally dumping the orange juice cocktail down the sink, along with the rest of the alcohol. Your heart panged, noting the tiny amount remaining in the crystal clear bottle.

Despite him denying his need for water, you brought him a tall glass of ice water along with a smaller glass of ginger ale, as well as a new chilled washcloth.

He was nearly asleep when you got back, but perked up at the sound of your footsteps.

You urged him to drink just a tiny bit of the water, and he obliged. You praised him heavily, placing a kiss on his cheek, before climbing into bed. He turned to face you, pulling you close to him. He kissed you on your forehead before drifting off into a deep, restful sleep.

The next morning, you woke up to an empty bed. You scrambled to get up and rushed into the kitchen, where you found Toshi sipping a modest cup of coffee, the photo of All Might placed in a brand new frame, proudly displayed on the kitchen table.

“Oh, Toshi! You scared me when you weren’t in the bed.”

He looked out the window, sighing deeply. He smiled at you, saying,

“Don’t worry... I am here.”

[dibbiedabbiedoobie]

Mint

Another one based on a voretober prompt -- 2021 this time, Mint. Set in the same ‘verse as Caught Red-Handed, but like... nebulously after that fic. So not a direct sequel, more just placed vaguely in that world. I’ll probably work on a proper sequel at some point, but rn I’m just off loading a bunch of stuff lol. This is also based on a real dream I had! It was wild but very comfy and nice. I think I woke up before the actual vore, sadly, but I do remember waking up feeling very comfy and loved so I suppose it wasn’t all bad.

Word Count: 891 Fandom: In/cep/tion Tags: safe vore, willing prey, willing pred, small bit of foodplay, fluff, pred!arthur Summary: Arthur wakes you up for a midnight snack.

You're still not quite sure how you ended up here. Arthur woke you up at some ungodly hour in the morning, asking something about mint that you don't remember. You'd been barely awake and had just nodded so he'd let you go back to sleep. In hindsight, that was probably intentional. You shift, just a bit. There's no comfortable way to lay on the jello you've found yourself on. It's a bright blue, translucent. You suppose the fact that it's broke up into cubes beneath you don't help with comfort. You aren't sure of the flavor, but you're half-tempted to try. You're considering it until Arthur walks back into the room, catching your attention. He has a spoon in hand and a shit-eating smirk on his face. You glare at him, but it's half-hearted at best. You generally can't bring yourself to care that much about these things anymore. It's far too early, and you want to sleep. His stomach seems softer and comfier than laying on blocks of jello. "Are you alright?" he asks, in the way he always does. It's a genuine question, making sure you're okay. He always makes sure to ask regularly, especially before he swallows you. It's the polite part of "polite little shit" shining through, and you really do appreciate it. "'m fine," you interrupt yourself with a yawn. You'd thought you were a little more awake now, but maybe not. "Just... hurry up. Sleepy." Arthur snorts. "Well then. I was going to try the jello, but if you're so insistent..." He sets the spoon aside, then gently picks you up by your sides with his index finger and thumb. "Wait!" you shout, and he pauses, concern written all over his face. "I'm fine," you assure him. "Just... lemme taste it." His expression eases, going from worry to amusement. He carefully turns you over, holds you close enough to grab a small piece from a corner. As you put it in your mouth, he turns you back over. "Any good?" "It tastes like shit." You stick your tongue out, nose wrinkled. "Mint? Really?" "I didn't chose it," chuckles Arthur. "Dom bought the wrong one. I figured I might as well get some use from it." "If you'd wanted a taste tester, there were easier ways to get them." "Maybe, but very few can be a stand-in treat." He lifts you closer to his face, then pauses; waiting for confirmation. Biting back another yawn, you just nod. Arthur opens his mouth, tipping his head a bit, before he carefully begins to lower you inside. Hot and muggy rises up your legs, and his tongue rises up to cushion you. It's firm, but slimy, and wraps around your body as he pushes you further inside. It's all a familiar song and dance, and you relax into it. His lips close gently around your chest, his fingers carefully supporting your back as he gets a good taste of you. He hums, contented, but doesn't dwaddle. Flicking his head back properly, he loosens his jaw and swallows thickly. It drags you down quickly, sends you squishing into his throat up to your hips. Scrunching his face, he gulps again, pulling you properly into his gullet. You're a little bigger than he expects sometimes. He brushes his fingers against his neck, feeling the bulge you make as you trudge deeper into his core. He always did like that, being able to track you through his body. Knowing where you were, even inside him, makes him feel more comfortable about your safety; granted, there weren't very many places for you to be in his body, but he likes it anyways. Once you're beneath his collarbone, he wipes his mouth of drool. He'd liked your flavor, but the hint of mint had been a delectable improvement. If he thought he could get away with it, he'd try to do it a bit more often. There's a pressure in his chest, and then you squeeze down into his stomach. It gurgles a greeting, churning at you eagerly. You suppose it has been a bit since dinner. "Are you okay?" Arthur's voice rumbles around you, low but clear. "Fine, Arthur," you reply. You squirm, settling into the gentle curve of his belly. "Good. Let me know if that changes, okay?" "Mhm." You don't expect him to hear you, but that's okay. This is part of the song and dance, too: making sure that you're okay, that you know you can leave any time. It's familiar and appreciated, but common enough that you both know that there's no real problem. Arthur's stomach churns at you more, soaking you in even more spit and fluid. You don't mind, though. It's warm in his tummy, and soft. A better bed than the one outside. You're used to it trying to process you by now, and you know it won't hurt you. You can feel Arthur stroking at you gently outside. He probably isn't trying to coax you to sleep, but that's the effect. With everything so soothing, your body is quite aware that it's Too Damn Early in the morning, and there's a lot of sleep to be had. You settle, then give a soft pet to the nearest wall. "G'night," you murmur, far too quiet to hear. You let your eyes close, and then you're asleep.

[softredrobin]

i cant decide on a color scheme but i can give my oc angst

i’m picky about colors but also indecisive. 

cw for mentions of boundary issues and dubious consent. possibly eating disorder warning? (let me know if there’s something else that needs tagged) if you don’t want to read my super long paragraph but want to help me pick colors you can just...scroll to the pictures? cool.

lemme tell you a story: i decided that i was going to make a d(a)emon self-insert for redactedverse. i try to determine what kind of d(a)emon i would be. realistically, probably an inchoate, but i had this Funny Thought™. you see, i am very much ace and i tend to swing between being sex-repulsed and sex-neutral and sex-positive. the whole spectrum there and im just going back and forth like its my slippy kitchen floor when im mopping. 

anyway the long and short of it is that i think i’d make an interesting concubus (as far as I can find, there’s no one agreed upon gender neutral term for incubi/succubi, but this post has a list of them which I picked from).

I went through a lot of stars before picking one, and then I ended up picking a name that hasn’t been used in like, forever. Cynosura is a like, super old really odd way to refer to Polaris (the North Star), deriving from the old name for the constellation Ursa Major and just generally is used when referring to Polaris as the Marian Polar Star (technically Cynosure is more proper, but I wanted the A on the end, because I like the sound better). This was used when talking about the star in relations to seafaring and stuff, but also references the Virgin Mary somehow which I found ironic (and perhaps a nice touch given Gavin’s own star is in Virgo, the Maiden).

After that, I thought about their personality a bit. I think Cynosura would be a younger demon, despite the older name. I also think, based on some things from Gavin’s playlist, and their own tipsy-turvy relationship with sexuality, that Cynosura isn’t well liked among their fellow concubi, and probably has been told (and let themselves be convinced that) they are “wrong” in some way, for their disconnect from feeding as a whole. There’s probably some compulsory sexuality ingrained in them and they definitely have issues with settings boundaries and actually considering what they want (remember Gavin mentioning that he’s not used to being asked what he wants? take that and dial it up to 11). Basically their feeding situation reeks of dubious consent and I imagine if they decide to go to D.A.M.N. there’s probably times where they’re feeding the absolute bare minimum, or otherwise restricting their feeding, because the repulsion is just so much.

Colors time now! Anyway I threw all this angst on this character but couldn’t make a good decision on what colors I wanted. I wanted pink, because I thought it’d be a good way to note “this is a concubus!” but I also wanted teal because I like that color a lot and thought it would tie in well with the name. I threw them into one of my favorite shirts and called it a day but couldn’t decide on skin and hair and eye colors.

This one was the first one, and I started with pink skin. I still really like this, but I’m not sure if the pink just clashes with the ocean-themed name going on or if the hair and eyes balance it out. I decided to try making the skin a tealish shade instead.

That’s how we got here. This looks very cohesive but is bereft of pink and seems a little... too cohesive. There’s no accent colors! I decided I’d try to change the eye color.

This one is nice, but I worry it might be unbalanced with just the eyes being pink and nothing else. I said let’s reverse the original situation and make the hair a nice pink shade too, so it’s same hair and eyes that contrast the skin again.

This is cool, but I’m not sure about all the pink hair. I said oh! My hair is half-and-half, let’s try a split hair color.

And that’s how I ended up here! I like this, but honestly I like all of them on some level and just am not sure what to think. Anyone have any thoughts on the colors?

[knockknockchicagopd]

❛ THE THINGS I DO ❜

❚❙ REQUEST BY @scarletsoldierrr: I’m so excited your taking requests again :) can I request 7 from random and 9 from angst with hank ?

❚❙ Prompts: “Stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy”. / “That was the last time. I'm serious this time”.

❚❙ HANK VOIGHT MASTERLIST.

❚❙ WORDS: about 900.

❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.

❚❙ GIF credits: to my amazing @sonsofeorl.

❚❙ General tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @inlovewith3 @ocetevasgirl @destynelseclipsa @miahelen @jadakiss13 @mcgreads @graniairish @teller258316 @i-love-scott-mccall. Hank Voight tag list: @sophie-writes. If you wanna be added to my tag list, send my a message! ⚡

Shutting the blue door of the locker with all the frustration running through your veins, you rub the bridge of your nose trying to bring back some calm. You take a seat on the bench grabbing your phone to check the hour, considering the option of going to Molly's to drink a couple of beers and have some fun, after closing a case that has given you more headaches than you thought it could. Hardly inspiring by your nostrils, you nail both elbows on your thighs, hiding your face between your hands.

You are not going to lie saying that you don't hate when Hank acts on his own, taking all the risk no matter what. His main mission as a sergeant is to keep his unit safe and sound, but not in exchange for having a bullet in his head.

Coming back from your thoughts by hearing the door of the locker room getting closed, you sigh pulling back your hair before standing up and taking your jacket to wear it. You don't need to ask, nor to stick your head out of the lockers to know who it is. You know to perfection the sound his feet produce with every step, not needing to mention how fast his strong scent fills up the room and your lungs with just a breath of air. Sideways you can see him resting his shoulder against one of the compartments, crossing his arms in silence probably waiting for you to say something since you haven't looked at his face after he came to the District with his car almost destroyed and a lot of scratches and wounds on his face. Now, he's fixed up and there's no fresh blood covering his skin, but still looking like shit.

“Stop ignoring me, it's driving me crazy”.

Biting your bottom lip, you keep the dirty clothes inside your backpack before zipping it and hanging it on your shoulder. You don't even know what to say to not explode against him. It has been one of the most intense weeks since you started to work for him and the last thing you want tonight is to argue with your boss, boyfriend, friend, or whatever he is. Passing him away it's not an option, being stopped by one of Hank's hands on your forearm. Your feet stop dead, finally earning your gaze. An enraged one.

“That was the last time”.

“Yeah, that was what you said the last time”.

“I'm serious this time”.

Sliding up his fingers so slowly on your arm, they reach the handle to put your bag somewhere over the floor. And you let him do it because you have missed his touch today. Seeing him coming back as he has done is one of your worst nightmares, without counting with the fact that you were scared to death of thinking that you would never see him again, after being disappeared for more than four hours. It was as if the earth had swallowed him.

“Sorry”.

“A knife would hurt me less than the uncertainty about if you were okay or bleeding out in an alley. Why the hell you can't understand it? Not everything worth the risk of catching an offender”.

“You're right, I get it, bu—”.

“But nothing! You always tell us that we're more than a Unit. We're a team. We're family. You can't push us away just because you want to protect us. Who protects you then?”

Hank is about to refute your argument when he notices the tears crystallize your eyes. An involuntary low grunt escapes from his throat, trying to find the perfect words to say and calm you down.

“You won't always understand why I do things, but I do 'em for a reason. You just have to trust in me, alright? You said so, we are a team. And I said so, it's the last time I give you the wrong address”.

Simply nodding with your lips puckered, you can't help but put your eyes away from him as the first tear falls. He doesn't lose time cleaning it with his thumb on a soft and gentle caress that ends up on your chin. Holding it with two fingers, Hank tilts his head closer to catch your lips in a tender kiss earning enough relaxation to your body, since the very first moment his warm touch makes contact with your skin.

“Lemme take you home and compensate for today”.

His mouth brushing yours with every syllable gives you some chills, bristling your back under the clothes. His brown eyes are fixed on yours, wishing you don't reject his plan to punish him a little more. And you can't see the alleviating in his orbs when you nod wrinkling your nose sniffing because of the inappreciable crying. His hand on your shoulder goes to a side of your neck, pressing his lips again on yours for some more seconds than in the other, before resting his forehead against yours for an instant.

“I love you, you know it, right?”

The whisper sounds like a painful howl, finally noticing he was scared too for not seeing you again. It's hard for him to admit that he is afraid too, being obligated to be every pawn on the chessboard constantly protecting the king. His Unit. His team. His family. The only thing he has left in his life.

“Don't do that again, please”. You beg him placing your free hand over the one on your neck.

“I won't”.

[just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot]

Soulmate September - Day 4

Day 4 - There is a trail of color only you can see that marks out where your soulmate has been.

Pairing(s): Platonic Patmile, Aro Patton, Aro Emile

TWs: None I can think of rn, possibly a warning for Pat questioning his aromantic-ness? If I need to tag anything that I’ve missed, please lemme know!

--

Patton wasn’t sure what to feel even as his own two traitorous feet carried him along the sidewalk in the direction of the sparkling baby pink soulmate trail; he knew he would have one, everyone did. At least, that’s what he was always raised to believe. 

“One day, Pat, one day you’ll meet your soulmate and everything will be wonderful. You’ll fall in love and be happy for the rest of your days!”

Patton loved his nana, bless her, but just remembering her words made his stomach churn more than the nerves he felt watching the trail. He already felt so happy with his best friends;  sure, perhaps a part of him felt a little like the odd one out considering they were all in relationships with their soulmates now, but he didn’t feel like he needed a romantic partner to feel fulfilled. But maybe that just meant he wasn’t truly happy. Maybe.

After all, he had a trail. Heck, he was following it right now! That meant he’d have to face his soulmate. Someone who would be looking for a loving partner who’d shower them with romance. Affection, Patton could do. Heck, platonic kisses and cuddles were practically his second job. Romance, however…. That he just couldn’t seem to grasp. Not that he didn’t know what to do, just the thought made him feel uneasy. The bad kind of uneasy, the kind of uneasy you get when you’re about to hear awful news for the first time, not the excited uneasy when trying something new. 

With an exhausted sigh, Patton tried to remain positive as the trail led to the local high school. Was his soulmate a teacher? A janitor? Maybe a parent stopping by to pick up their kid early? Or were they giving a talk to the students? Either way, Patton checked the time and was thankful that he didn’t have to try and explain to someone that he had to go wandering around the school to find his soulmate. Fifteen minutes wasn’t such a long wait anyway..

… Okay maybe it’s a long wait when your mind is positively racing with anxiety. Patton had been so lost in his own mind, it took a woman - probably a member of staff going by her attire -  talking to him to pull him out of his daze, 

“Sir? The last of the students are leaving, are you still waiting on your child?”

He shook his head, “Ah, no, that’s not it, see, I’m looking for-”

Pat wasn’t able to finish. Just as he looked over her shoulder, he spotted his soulmate, the pink trail glowing behind and around him. Gentle looking, perhaps only a couple of years Patton’s senior, wearing a light brown cardigan over a pink tie and white button up shirt. His pressed black pants would have clashed with his adorable pink sneakers if they didn’t suit him so well. Not to mention the pink streak in his dark hair or the numerous cute badges adorning the cardigan. Oh God this was too soon. Far too soon. As his soulmate pushed up his glasses, Patton became aware of the woman still waiting on an answer.

…… Nope, he can’t do this-

Patton made a small whining noise as he turned and took off down the street. He can’t do this. He can’t face his soulmate. Not like this! Not while he was still a mess!! Not while he wasn’t able to be the partner his soulmate surely deserved. Patton hadn’t even met him formally, but already he knew he didn’t want to let him down, not someone who was so clearly a wonderful person. 

For a moment, Patton began to wonder what was wrong with him. He liked him. His soulmate. That much was clear. One glance and he couldn’t get the sweet expression on his face out of his head, yet he didn’t feel an ounce of any romantic feelings for him. Not one. 

He stopped to catch his breath once he’d hit the nearest bench - he narrowly avoided ramming straight into the damn thing - and tried to work out what to do. Pat knew he couldn’t avoid him forever, of course, after all the trail-

Oh no, the trail-!!

Patton looked behind him just in time to lock eyes with his soulmate while he was tripping over the curb and falling flat on his face in his pursuit. 

“Great, now’s my chance to run.”, Patton thought, but upon noting that the man seemed to be hurt, his conscience wouldn’t let him retreat. Damnit. Swallowing the pit in his stomach, Patton rushed to his aid, 

“Are you alright!?”, Patton asked, offering a hand to help him up.

His soulmate beamed up at him, smiling brightly despite the fact his nose was bleeding from the impact with the ground as he took said hand,

“Yeah! I’m a little banged up but don’t worry about me, are you alright um..?”

“Patton.”

“Patton!”, his soulmate beamed, unaware of how it was breaking Pat’s heart, “I’m Emile Picani, do you how do?”

Patton was surprised to find himself chuckling at Emile’s antics despite his growing anxiety. “Oh jeez, he IS my soulmate..”, Patton caught himself thinking, unsuccessfully hiding his disappointment with himself in his expression. Emile noted the crack in Patton’s happy facade and decided to try and be light-hearted in his approach, “Hm, lemme rephrase my question; eeeeeh what’s up, Pat?”.

It was a terrible Bugs Bunny impression, but it did get a smile out of Patton. Oh boy, he still didn’t want to have this conversation…

“.... How about I bandage you up a little, then we talk?”

Emile agreed and the two sat down on the bench while Patton opened up his satchel and took out his cartoon network print plasters, a sight that had Emile excitedly bouncing his leg. Of all the people to be his soulmate, Patton couldn’t have asked for a better match, if only…

“Are you a father?”, Emile queried, catching Patton off guard.

“Wh-What?”, he stammered in surprise.

“Your bandaids, I thought perhaps you-”

“Oh, no, no!! I don’t have kids, but I work at the local daycare. It’s my day off today.”, he explained. Emile nodded, “I see! I work at the high school-  well, you know that you, found me there, I mean I’m the school’s student councillor. I’m sorry if my assumption upset you, Pat.”

Patton shook his head, “No, no, it’s fine!”, he waved off the concern as he silently got to work with the bandaids. The assumption hadn’t upset him, well, not in the way Emile probably thought; he hadn’t known Emile for a day and yet Patton knew he wanted Emile in his life forever, but… surely his soulmate would be looking for a husband. A lover. Someone to have romantic nights out with and someone who would love him back. But Patton couldn’t do that. He felt a form of love for the man but the idea of them getting married or anything like that just-

He was pulled from his simultaneous daydream and bandaging work as he listened to Emile hum something familiar. At first, Patton couldn’t pin down where he knew it from, however, as Emile hummed more, Patton recognised the faint singing he was doing under his breath;

“When you trip on your face and your teeth are misplaced..”

“Friends are there to help you.”, Patton sang in continuation, returning the excited grin Emile bore, “Ed, Edd, ‘n’ Eddy, right? I haven’t watched the show in years.”, he admitted.

Emile beamed brightly, “Oh my goodness, really?! Well I have the entire series on DVD! If you want, we can go back to my place and-”

The churning feeling was back. Patton had heard about this song and dance before. What was it his friend Virgil had called it? Netflix and chill? No, that’s the more R-rated song and dance, isn’t it? Either way, Patton’s displeasure must’ve shown on his face as Emile gently placed a hand over Patton’s, 

“What’s got you feeling blue there, my diamond?”

Patton couldn’t help but give an exhausted smile at that. Steven Universe references now. Lord help him, he’s about to break this poor man’s heart. Gathering what little courage he could muster, Patton tried as best he could to explain,

“Emile, you’re wonderful. I just want to make it really crystal clear, ah ha, that it’s not you, it’s me...”, Patton began, noting the way Emile appreciated his attempt to lighten the mood, “But I can’t return your feelings. Not um, not in the love-dovey way, I mean! I really like you, but as a friend?? Gee, I’m sorry, I wish I could love-love you back, but I-! Romance just, I can’t do it and I don’t want to hurt you because you’re so nice, but- ! Ugh! This is so confusing-”

“Oh thank God.”

What. Patton locked eyes with Emile to see genuine relief wash over him, a couple of tears welling up in his eyes as he explained, “I thought I was gonna have to explain me being aromantic to you and hope you weren’t against it-”

“Wait, wait, aro-what?”, Patton asked, perplexed.

Emile took a second, realising what was happening, “Oh, Pat. Um, right, let me explain; I’m aromantic - and genderfluid by the way, I use all pronouns and such but don’t you worry about that right now.”, Emile assured him, continuing, “Being aromantic means you don’t feel any, or very few, romantic feelings for anyone. You might like some things generally considered romantic but enjoy them platonically! Take me for example! I, much like Olaf, like warm hugs! And platonic kisses are a-okay with me too! But if you’re not into that stuff, of course-”

“Oh, no I am!!”, Patton beamed, feeling like a weight had been torn from his shoulders, “I really like physical affection, but I like it from everyone really! I’m just so happy I’m not breaking your heart here..”

“Aw Pat..”, Emile opened his arms wide, giving Patton a look of genuine adoration, “Awkward Soulmate Hug?”

Appreciating the Gravity Falls reference, Patton chuckled, “Awkward Soulmate Hug.”

The hug was far from awkward. If anything it was the best hug Patton had been given all year.

------------ I hope you all enjoy this one!  I wanted to give a little love to platonic soulmates too so here we go!! @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist [just message me to be added!]: @somehow-i-got-an-account  @cateye-glasses

[aahsokaatano]

King I would love that essay about Changing Channels

Fjdjshjdhdjd thanks for reading my tags Jesse you're the real VIP here.

Okay SO "Changing Channels" is the 8th episode of the 5th season of Supernatural. I give this information bc it's important in looking at the context of the episode - now I've complained a LOT about how SPN is terrible at giving us canonical timeframes within the episodes (y'all i was SHOCKED to discover the first season is supposed to cover a little over a year's worth of time, I thought it was like... 4 or 5 months) so I can't say for sure how long before and after the other episodes happen in-universe around "Changing Channels" BUT

The episode before is "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" where Dean and Bobby bet years of their lives in a game of poker with a witch. The episode after is "The Real Ghostbusters" where Sam and Dean end up at a fan convention for the in-universe Supernatural novels.

Why am I pointing this out? Because it's important, please, no audience participation, this is like a Brian David Gilbert panel.

[under a cut bc this got...... STUPID long. Who knew I still had this many opinions about SPN in 2020?]

Okay first of all I wanna talk about the cinnamon topography of this episode - I love the way the first 5 seasons are shot because you really feel the americana gothic horror aesthetic they were going for (I have a whole ‘nother rant about the first 5 seasons vs the last 10 but thats for another time). Everything is a little washed out and grey-toned, the camera angles generally serve to make Sam and Dean appear even taller than they actually are (larger than life - again, another post for another time), and there’s honestly a LOT of shots from the ‘monster’s’ perspective, which is really neat! I’ve said it before (on another blog - YES i have a dedicated spn rant blog, don’t @ me hdjfhfjfh) but the episode that really got me hooked on spn back in the day was the second one, about the w*ndigo. Yes, it’s a racist, culturally appropriating shitstorm, but the way its SHOT is fantastic. I’m honestly not a horror fan, but that episode could have easily relied on jumpscares and they DIDN’T and it was scary as all fucking hell and just - fuck okay getting off topic. 

In “Changing Channels” we get that distinctive grey-washed tone in the beginning and the very end of the episode, but the middle? When they’re in TV Land? Everything is bright. Almost comically so, I mean - okay look at these two shots of Sam (apologies about the crappy phone pics, netflix won't let me screenshot)

This one is from the start of the episode, in the "real" police station

And this is from a little later in the "TV" hospital

Ignoring that my phone is washing him out a lot in both pics, you can still see the warmer tones in the hospital shot as compared to the cold greyness in the police station one

Okay, now look at this picture

Dean inside the Impala, and those warm tones are back. Why? Because even though Sam and Dean believe that they’re back in the “real” world, they aren’t - so instead of the grey-washed shots that we’re used to, its the bright and warm shots that we see in “TV Land”! So the viewers pick up, even if its just subconsciously, that the boys aren’t out of the woods yet - everything is still too bright to be the in-universe reality we’ve come to expect from SPN by season 5

Which is also why i love this shift so much

These shots are literally SECONDS apart. The first is in "TV Land" and the second is in the "real" world. I have some red strip lights behind my bed, which are reflecting off my laptop screen - notice how much brighter they seem in the second picture? That’s because literally all of the warm colors have been drained out of the shot. As soon as Gabriel snaps them all back into “reality,” things get so much colder.

Okay, so the second thing I want to talk about is some of the very pointed dialogue choices within the “shows” the Winchesters take part in. Not between Sam and Dan and Gabriel, but from the, for lack of a better term, NPCs within the shows.

In the hospital, Dr. Piccolo tells Sam that he is “the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your table; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.” Standard cheesy soap opera dialogue - but lemme just swap some words here and - 

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your hunt; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.”

Or even - 

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So Jessica and Mary died above you; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault [but Azazel’s]. Sometimes people just die.”

Keeping in mind that the NPCs are basically Gabriel’s mouthpieces, its easy to see why so many people ship Sabriel. I’d actually love to see a fic that explores them talking about this moment in particular later on and the kind of gentle forgiveness that Gabriel can give Sam... getting off topic again.

In an abrupt about-face, the herpes commercial (much meme’d within the fandom) is straight up Gabriel shaming Sam. Because if you replace “genital herpes” with “demon blood” it’s.... dark. And very intentional.

So that’s what I did! (I combined all spoken lines to make the message easier to read, rather than splitting them up across 3 speakers as in the episode)

“I’ve drank demon blood. I tried to be responsible... did I try. But now, after being forcibly detoxed, I fight my addiction every day to reduce the chances of passing back into that toxic mindset. Ask your loved ones about a demon blood intervention today. [...] I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the chance of drinking demon blood again. And that’s a good thing.”

Like... the subtext throughout this episode sure is. Something.

Okay this is getting ridiculously long so I wanna wrap up by talking about The Best Scene In The Whole Goddamn Show

I’m talking, of course, about Gabriel’s Confession

“Max,” you might be saying, “there are so many better scenes out there, even within the first five seasons!” and to that i say, again, no audience participation, please. Also, you’re WRONG and here’s why!

Gabriel’s confession hits every goddamn emotional chord that the fandom begged for on this show - fear, rage, grief, pain, guilt, and even, yes, absolution. 

Okay, here’s the scene again for those of you who don’t think about it at least once a week like me

Now this video is missing some of the conversation, but most of it is there, enough for you to see what I’m talking about. Gabriel up to this point has been, essentially, a nameless antagonist - this is the third episode he appeared in, and before this, we didn’t even know he was going by Loki. He was just referred to as ‘The Trickster’. But here, not only do we get a name (a real name at that), but we also get a glimpse of his backstory and a hell of a lot of character development in less than 5 minutes. I mean, Sam didn’t get this much character development throughout the entirety of season 1! There’s a good reason Gabriel has been a fan-favorite for a very long time, and I think a big part of it is this particular scene.

Because here, we get to see Gabriel being vulnerable. And we even see Dean show a little vulnerability, as he can empathize being the third party to explosive arguments between the two people who mean everything to him.

I mean... okay, it will never see the light of day, but I wrote a little bit of a Reverse ‘Verse fic (because I’m a sucker for Reverse ‘Verse) and this was the scene I started with. Not s1e1, not even the resurrection in s4e1, but this scene. Because this scene, more than any other, is critical to the way not only Gabriel’s (first) arc plays out, but also to how Sam and Dean conduct themselves for the rest of the season (and maybe a bit beyond, it’s been a hot minute since I watched s6 and later). Dean is angry but determined, he has a point to make, he is going to save Sammy and if he can’t do that, then he’s going to damn well die trying. But Sam... it’s after this episode that we start really seeing how bone-achingly tired Sam is. It’s after this conversation - where one of the other archangels, one of the few beings who can truly understand how powerful Michael and Lucifer are - says that there’s no other way around this that Sam seems to start inching towards giving in. Saying yes.

Sure, in the actual episode, he seems outraged by the idea, practically scoffs at it - “you want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” - but it’s after this where Sam really seems run down.

I mean, look at the episodes before and after (HAH you thought I forgot about that first point I made at the very beginning of this post! I did, briefly, but I’ve circled back to it, thanks for being understanding). In “The Curious Case of Dean Winchester,” Sam behaves much as he did since the start of s4, which is to say, ‘annoying little know-it-all brother tossed into the middle of the apocalypse and just trying his best’ and it works well for the mad scramble for any scrap of information that’s happening in s4/early s5.

But in “The Real Ghostbusters” it’s different. This is another funny meta episode - except, while Sam and Dean are technically aware of the joke, they aren’t as amused by it as the audience is. And it’s not because of the ghosts. It’s because they’re just... done. Especially Sam. Dean has that nice little moment with the cosplayers at the end of the episode, but Sam... threatens to shoot Chuck. Sam ‘goes darkside’ more often than pretty much any other character in the show, but that moment is different. It’s a flat promise, not a threat. He’s not being an asshole, like he is after losing his soul. He’s just... done. And it’s obvious to see.

Gabriel’s confession is the turning point for Sam in s5, and it informs a lot of his behavior through the rest of s5, and possibly beyond! Like I said, I haven’t watched past s5 in a very long time, so I don’t feel confident enough to analyze that specific sort of character line, but I feel confident in saying that hearing one of the most powerful beings in the universe basically say “it doesn’t matter what you do - your destiny is unavoidable” and then he’s proven right (Sam says yes to Lucifer, and Dean eventually does say yes to Michael down the line!)... like, that’s really gotta fuck up your world view that was built on free will and throwing off the shackles of fate. Sam managed to avoid his ‘destiny’ in s2... but then it turns out that that wasn’t ever his destiny. Lucifer was his destiny.

Talk about an obscured view of the inner self.

[let-patton-say-fuck]

Hello and welcome

This post is going to be long and detailed, but here’s the gist:

I want to create a blog that will serve as a collection of Patton content in which he's portrayed as the extremely interesting character that he is. This includes angst, character studies, theories, discussions of gray morality, etc, etc. Also, I personally heavily identify with Patton, and whenever I see content of him being absolutely feral? Incredibly cathartic. I just think it’s neat. So, this is a blog for Patton content that presents him as more than the “innocent soft little puffball” he tends to be percieved as in the fandom. And, to be honest, more than anything I just want to inspire as many people as possible to join me in my #LetPattonSayFuck agenda. Let him do it. He deserves it.

None (or almost none) of the content on this blog is going to be mine. If you have content you want me to put on here, you can:

Tag me in it

Submit a post

Send me an ask

DM it to me

I will reblog the things people send me and try my best to organise them (more on that after the cut). You can send art, fanfiction, edits, rants, headcanons, memes, just related thoughts that come to your head, basically anything you want.

I will also sometimes reblog things to this blog just because I feel like they fit and I want to. If I reblogged something you created to this blog and you don't want that, please let me know, and I will delete it. Essentially, this is just a place for me to hoard (and navigate) any and all content about my favourite types of Patton characterisation. And you can join, if you want!!

And now onto the details:

About The Different Kinds Of Patton:

Different sides (ha) of Patton might be explored in the posts of this blog, so I think they will require some sort of classification. You can block or search certain tags based on your preferences.

The tags I will be using:

#let patton say fuck - any post where Patton swears (not necessarily “fuck”)

#feral patton - feral Patton. That’s it that’s the tag. Let my boy go feral. Whatever level of feral. From dying your hair at 4am to murder. Give me feral Patton

#angry patton

#patton angst - h u r t  h i m (then help him pls. Not a requirement, just a personal request. Unhappy endings accepted but not without tears). This one will probably have a lot of subcategories

#flirty patton - I will be using this tag for any flirtatious actions from Patton, especially those that wouldn’t usually be seen as “typical” for him.

#suggestive patton - taking the previous tag a step further, this one is for any innuendos, sexual jokes/hints from Patton, whether in a flirty context or just for humour reasons.

#smart patton - any kinds of intelligence. Emotional intelligence, academic intelligence, strategic intelligence, musical intelligence, etc. Bring it on. If anyone wants me to make separate tags for different types of intelligence, please let me know exactly how you want me to do that, and I will, as soon as I can.

#BAMF patton - let him fuck shit up a little. As a treat

#mischief patton - Patton doing pranks, teasing someone, making fun of someone light-heartedly, messing with people. Sarcastic Patton. All that adorable devious shit. Gimme

#smug patton - smug bastard man,,,,,, sarcastic bastard man,,,,,,,,,, teasing bastard man,,,,,, (this one and the mischief one will probably overlap yeah)

#patton and morality - gray morality Patton. Being confused abt moral concepts because morality is hard, man. Patton being wrong, but learning. Patton making mistakes,,,,, I love him

#nsfw patton - I accept NSFW content, it will always be tagged. These posts will also be tagged with "#nsfw" and "#nsfs" (Not Safe For Sanders). This tag is for explicitly sexual things only. Sexual humour/innuendos/hints will all be in the "suggestive" tag. You can filter out one or both, if you want.

Once again, if anyone wants me to make a separate tag, I will.

About The Different Kinds Of Content:

As I’ve mentioned before, absolutely any form of content is accepted. Some tags that will help in looking for specific things:

#pat art - Some art,,, of the Pat,,,,,

#pat fanfic - More on ships later

#pat thoughts - any kinds of thoughts/rants. If you wanna share your ideas or just talk about Patton, this is probably how it will be tagged. Lemme know if you want me to change anything

#pat analysis

#pat theories

#pat hcs - any headcanons!! Ship headcanons!! Random headcanons!!! Vent “This is about Patton but I Am Patton” headcanons haha definitely know nothing about those!!! All headcanons are welcome

#pat memes - memes, shitposts, funny thoughts, incorrect quotes. Anything like that

#pat edits - Video, photo, audio, GIF. Once again, if anyone wants separate tags, I will add them.

Any other types of content will be given their own tags in the future, if they will be needed.

The tag for any asks is just "#asks". Anything related to this blog will be tagged "#blog stuff".

About Ships:

All ships will be given their own tags. More ships (poly ships, ships without Patton in them) will be added later as we go. For now here are the tags I will be using for Patton ships (tell me if anything needs to be changed):

#moceit

#logicality

#moxiety

#intruality

#royality

All characters will be tagged as “#ts *character name*”:

#ts logan

#ts janus

#ts roman

#ts virgil

#ts remus

If you don’t want to see certain characters or ships, please just filter the tags.

About Trigger Warnings:

If you ever need me to tag (or change) anything for any reason, please feel free to tell me, and I will do so as fast as I can and as thoroughly as I can.

Trigger warning tags are added to this post as content is being posted. Before posting anything, I will review it for potential triggers and update this post if needed. If anyone wants to add a tag for anything in advance - let me know, and I will do it.

So, let's start:

#pat discourse - any kind of argument against the way Patton is treated by the general fandom. While I think most people here would agree with those opinions, sometimes just the notion of an argument is distressing.

#tw cursing - I mean just in case

#tw murder mention - for references to murder with no details or visuals

#tw murder - discussion of murder with some details and/or visuals

#tw repression

#tw self-hatred

#tw anxiety attack

#tw threats

#tw alcohol

And finally!!!! This is a No Unsympathetic Patton Allowed zone. I guess it depends on how you would define "unsympathetic", but no content of Patton being abusive and/or anything similar to that will be posted, and please, please do not send it in. Please don't send Patton hate either, I won't post it, but it will hurt me quite a lot, please don't do that. If you don't like Patton, just go to another blog.

#tw arguing

#tw self-destructive behaviour

I'm sorry in advance if I ever forget to tag anything, please tell me right away so I can fix it! I don't really know how to run a blog, so I'm sorry if anything is wrong. I'm willing to try my best to keep this as organised as possible, since it's For A Good Cause. Thank you so much for visiting this blog, and I hope you enjoy it!!