#ANYWAYS this ask has been sitting in my inbox for a couple weeks now and ive been slowly picking at it but NEOW im ready to post it

[the-holy-ghosted]

*putting on a moustache and sunglasses*

So like what’s the deal with ghosted what’s that about

now see the deal with Ghosted is that it's not what happens within the events of the film that captivates me so much, though don't get me wrong i love this film to bits, but rather, it's the idea of what happens after the whole thing that makes me FUCKING NUTS

because the whole thing is relatively cut and dry in the sense that we don't have to guess about what happened before and we don't have to guess about how everybody is feeling in the present. we know (MOST) important characters backgrounds and what they're doing at Falkhill and slowly revealing Paul's context was pretty interesting if not a little abrupt at the end there but its the very last scene of this film down to the very frame that flips the whole hour and a half you just watched over on its head and prevents me from getting a good night's sleep because i can't stop thinking about it

ELABORATING WITH A LOT OF SPOILERS UNDER THIS

explaining the plot of this movie is hard without sounding like im writing a pretentious review and not just talking out of my ass on tumblr but for my followers who haven't watched this movie and dont care enough to: Ghosted (2011) is set in a british prison in which Jack (John Lynch) is a long time prisoner who's wife just dumped him apparently on the anniversary of their sons death (tough break) and is being advised by his friend and cellmate Ahmed (Art Malik) (who does NOT get HALF as much screen-time or plot relevance as he DESERVES,) to find something to put his mind to and be proud of outside of his failures Paul (Martin Compston) is a prisoner who was just transferred out of a Young Offenders prison AS FAR AS WE'RE TOLD... though its noticeable from the beginning that hes not a very good liar and his story is suspicious at best Clay (Craig Parkinson) is kindof The Guy of their prison wing whos dealing drugs to other prisoners and assumes the position of authority over everybody else, though compared to other inmates with bigger cliques, his foundations are shaky. the description of this film on letterboxd calls him "the wing beast" and i have never cried laughing so hard reading something in my life

Clay and Jack both hone in on Paul immediately for different reasons. Jack, after his pep talk with Ahmed, sees Paul as a source of "a little self belief, something to be proud of", but Clay scoops him under his wing for being relatively young and impressionable. This puts Jack and Clay at odds with each other. after some plot, Paul gets into very big trouble with Clay and after An Incident is promptly plopped into Jacks hands, who had requested Paul move into his cell earlier but didn't have a good enough excuse for it. Well You've Got A Bloody Good Reason Now ect ect

Jack and Paul buddy up immediately and its noticable that Paul is sort of filling in the empty space where a son would be for Jack, however we discover that Paul has been lying about his past to everybody, including Jack. he lied about his family and he lied about having only just been transferred from Y.O. and hadn't been telling the whole truth about his sentence. what the truth ends up being, in a nutshell, is that Paul is accidentally responsible for the death of Jack's son, having been the one who started the house fire he died in (we were never even told that Jack's son died in a house fire before this, we are only told this in Paul's flashback at the end of the movie and are supposed to act, like, surprised?? whatever). consequentially, Jack flips his lid and prompts my personal favorite scene in this film in which he beats the living shit out of Paul with his bare hands and immediately regrets it the second the adrenaline wears off, hitting an alarm button within the cell that alerts the guards.

the guards whisk him away and he is put in solitary confinement, which we find out was actually the first sequence of the film where hes shown with an absurdly long beard, and considering every other fucking scene he's in is of him shaving his face, i assume this is to show just how long he's been kept in solitary confinement, which quite honestly was kindof exciting to realize at the end of the film.

and then. the end scene.

after solitary, Jack is put in cuffs and brought to see Paul who looked Extremely Dead after Jack had him, but hes not dead! just almost dead. Jack is sat next to him and tries to apologize but starts to cry, reaching out a hand to hold Paul's but retracting it regretfully. Paul, having looked unconscious not five seconds before, moves his hand to place it over Jack's...

and then the movie ends. and i am left writhing on my floor in anguish BUT NOT BEFORE I EXPLAIN TO YOU THAT THIS

THIS is what the deal is with Ghosted

the pathetic gestures of "im sorry" and "its okay" are what kill me. sorry is nowhere near enough to justify anything that EITHER of them did, NOR should they be forgiven. AND YET.

and what gets my gears going is the thought of what everything looks like AFTER this scene. after they've bonded so close and after Jack already thought that Paul stopped lying to him, thinking that he could protect Paul from Clay now... after they started to fill the spaces for people they were missing in their lives... and after they've RUINED each others lives. They Have Ruined Each Others Lives and yet Paul probably would have had to DELIBERATELY ASK for them to bring Jack to see him because he just BEAT Paul within an INCH of his life and would NOT !! have brought Jack to see him upon Jack's own request!! Paul would have wanted to see him too!! after all this what does their relationship look like now... the image of father and son has been all but shattered in each other's eyes, one can assume, but are they still close... does the guilt and responsibility drift them apart or does it pull them inseparably together? Ahmed tells Jack that "there is no such thing as coincidence, only fate" but what does their fate look like... does it end here or does it mean that they're together indefinitely? the end of this film swings the door wide open and i think about it. way too often. unacceptably often, even.

all in all theres no reason that this should be my favorite film but it is. if nothing else it's made me look into the other actors involved and branch out with a to-watch list as long as my arm that will only get longer once i branch out from there. is it the perfect movie? no this film is mediocre at best. have i made a number of my friends sit down and watch it and listen to me yell incoherently about it? of course i have.

[connorsjorts]

beloved connorsjorts, I am new to the fandom! I was here in 2018 when the game came out, but I was also a kid. Grew up and have now realized how romantic the Hank and Connor route was.

Do you think it was on purpose?? Or did they accidentally insert incredibly gay vibes bc the buddy cop genre is inherently homoerotic or something??? I mean they had the Tracis so they aren’t against gay couples or something, but there’s a world of difference between gay side characters and gay main characters in gaming, if you know what I mean??? What does it all mean???

Anyways, love your fics!!! You slay every day.

Hi and welcome to the fandom!! I hope you’re having a great time, and thank you so much for your kind words about my fics 🥹💖💖

I really wanted to write an in-depth response to this, I wrote out bullet points and everything! But feeding my baby is literally a full-time job rn and it would have taken an embarrassingly long time to turn those bullet points into something coherent considering that this ask has already been sitting in my inbox for a week 🫠

So, in the interest of ensuring that I actually answer your question: The short version is that while David Cage is unfortunately homophobic, imo that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t use a queer narrative for his own gain 🤷🏻‍♀️ He already did something similar by making the game an allegory for race—he uses social issues to make his stories seem Important. So I think it’s plausible that Connor’s story revolves around intentional queer subtext, and that yes, Hank plays a “love interest” role on some level. But because gay men make Cage uncomfortable and he didn’t actually want his Cool(?) White Man character to be queer, we’re left with remnants of this idea on the thematic and structural level only. Which like, thank god, in terms of the story—the man is not subtle, can you IMAGINE how over the top it would be if he had followed through.

Fig 1: Dramatic reenactment of the Eden Club in a version of the game where Connor Detroit is allowed to be gay

I feel like this is an unpopular opinion (I think most people think it’s just 100% accidental) but if anyone wants me to plead my case in Old Man Yaoi v. That Coward David Cage lmk. Otherwise I’ll be busy plunking out my next Human Disaster Connor fic 😌 Thanks for your question!!!

[just-prime]

Ahsoka is so slow I could cry. She was trained by Anakin and presumably Obi-wan and several other Jedi, and Rosario can hardly do an actual lightsaber twirl, let alone make me believe she could survive Ventress, Maul, Grievous, or Vader, survive order 66, or run in a way that looks fast. Bo-Katan moves faster, Shin moves faster, Sabine moves faster, Ezra moves faster, even Ewan's lazy twirls while walking around and not actively engaged in battle in the prequels were roughly as fast as Rosario's in an actual duel.

It's also canon that in this era, in a less prequels flashy version of standard Jedi abilities, a Jedi can leap SEVERAL feet. Luke in ROTJ- even GROGU can jump higher, while Rosario's feet are consistently glued to the ground. Her choreography and speed are so inconsistent with this established era and people keep writing it off and praising it as her fighting like a samurai now, even though it makes NO sense for her to, given who trained her. She isn't A New Hope Obi-wan, nor sad cave dwelling Obi-wan who hasn't stretched or lifted a weapon in a decade, and a 44 year old Jedi is still supposed to be in their prime.

I truly wonder if part of it is that they can't keep her lekku on properly if she does a flip, and they are shorter because they were meant to be more practical, but I'm really not seeing a character agile enough to need stunt modified lekku.

If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated and each passing week demonstrates this more and more.

I'm sorry to anon into your inbox like this, but your post about the last episode has been so refreshing, and I've felt like I've been watching a completely different show than other people and don't know how they considered any of the actors ready. (Rosario has said she was training during filming). Thank you for your brutally honest take, you're spot on on all counts.

Couple of things.

A) I agree with everything you just said. Always feel free to come and rant into my asks.

B) I HAVE BEEN ANTI TINY LEKKU SINCE MANDO S2. It's laughable that we've seen cosplayers with more Rebels accurate headpieces. And of course everyone defends it with the 'it wouldn't be fair to the stunt person to have them try and do flips in that' and it's like NEWSFLASH Ahsoka isn't doing flips anyway!!! And sure, they probably stuck Rosario in a 5 week sword training class, but she's clearly not had to do any serious combat training given how clunky her fights are. And again, this was also a problem back in Mando s2, only she was in the middle of a foggy woods, so it was easier to hide the fact that she is incompetent when it comes to fight choreography.

C) "If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated" Exactly. This is why every passing day I am increasingly pissed that this show killed and ate the animated Rebels sequel series that was in fucking development. Everything about this show, from Ahsoka, to Hera (hell, even TBoBF cameos like Cad Banes) prove that Disney is not willing to shell out for a decent makeup and/or CG designer. No shade to the artists that are currently working on it, they are doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. What I mean is they didn't have anyone on set that was in a high enough positions to say 'Hey, have any of you heard of contouring?' Like, just looking at the alien makeup of the OT...which somehow holds up better than state of the art Disney budget makeup. It's just fucking embarrassing at this point. There is no reason everyone should look as flat as they do, but it's no surprise that they do when mary elizabeth winstead is celebrating that her makeup only took an hour. Sure, it's understandable that you don't want to be sitting in the makeup chair every morning of hours on end, but in the end you are an actor who signed up to play an alien...Suck it up buttercup.

D) I totally understand how hard it is to be not liking this show right now. The amount of people who've told me that "well, clearly it's just not made for you" after I point out a simple fact that a character is out of character is painful. Looking at twitter after each episode as everyone seems to think Filoni is creating the second coming is painful. Because it really does feel like we're watching a different show than them.

Okay, I think I covered everything. Thank you again for your kind words and your wonderful rant!!!

[hippiegoth97]

Hi! I don't know if you do requests right now because you're probably working on a lot of upcoming projects, so don't feel pressured to write my request. I just can't get this idea out of my head; it's been on my mind for almost a week now. So, who better to ask than my favorite writer?! Anyways, reader recently came out as bisexual and is now in her first relationship with a woman, Chrissy, who's also bisexual. She is still new to the sexual experience with a woman, so Chrissy helps her out. I hope that's enough information for you to work with 💜

A/N: Okay, this has been sitting in my inbox forever, and my other projects unfortunately got in the way. But it's here, finally! I hope you enjoy it, I've never written Chrissy this way before! And I haven't written as much WLW fic as I'd like, so hopefully this doesn't suck! Thanks again for requesting, and *blush* thanks for saying I'm your favorite, it means a lot 💜

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, fem!bisexual!reader, bisexual!chrissy cunningham, fluff, LGBTQ+ themes, coming out, light angst, past relationships, oral sex, fingering

“Just relax, baby. Let me make you feel good.” Chrissy says as she looms over you on the couch in her apartment. Her eyes peer into yours, confident and reassuring. Your comfortable smile matches her own, the two of you having downed a nice meal of pasta and red wine before cozying up to watch a movie you'd rented. Of course, the film became far less interesting than each other's mouths rather quickly. And now, she's got you safely caged in, her body slotted between your thighs as her gaze offers you the world.

You've been seeing each other for a couple months after an initial blind date,  courtesy of your friends. That went as awkward as one could imagine, complete with fumbling hands and a drink spilled on someone’s blouse. But once the ball got rolling, sparks began to fly between you in no time at all. Chrissy is unbelievably sweet, and kind. She genuinely cares about your needs. And you do everything you can to be the same for her. 

You haven't always dated women, Chrissy is actually the first woman you've ever been with. Well, beyond the occasional drunken party make-out with Robin. It took you far too long to figure out you are indeed bisexual, denying your feelings and pretending. But at a certain point, it all clicked. You like girls as much as you like boys, and that scared the hell out of you when you first pieced it together. And it scared you even more to tell your friends about it.

You're pacing back and forth near the front door, waiting for your friends to arrive. You've invited them over under the guise of hanging out and having drinks. A typical Friday night. They have no idea what the real reason is, and how terrified you are. Tonight, you plan to come out of the closet.

You know you shouldn't be this freaked out. You really don't have anything to worry about when it comes to your group of friends. Robin is gay, Eddie (your ex) is bi himself and now dating Steve (also bi, obviously). And Nancy, Jonathan, and Argyle are the most supportive people in the world to all of them. You know they'll love you no matter what, that they'll be happy for you. But you can't help being a nervous wreck regardless, you've always been a chronic worrier. 

Before you have time to fake being sick and call the whole thing off, the doorbell rings. “Fuck.” You mutter, smoothing down your shirt and running your hands over your hair to straighten up. You open the door, finding five smiling faces waiting for you. Steve's got a couple six packs in his grip, with Eddie gripping a bottle of whiskey while his other arm rests around Steve's waist. “Hey guys, come in.” You smile nice and wide, opening the door further to let them inside.

“Hey, Y/N. How's it going?” Robin asks, pulling you into a hug with her hands full of chip bags.

“Great, now that you're all here.” You say, genuinely meaning it. The second you’ve seen them all standing there in the entryway, you know everything is going to be fine. These wonderful people are your family, after everything you've been through together.

“Always happy to be around, sweetheart.” Eddie chimes in, helping Steve set the booze down on your kitchen counter just off the entrance to your apartment. Even though you're not together anymore, Eddie still drops the sweet names he used to call you. It's nice to be on such good terms with him, your break-up actually went pretty well. You cared about each other, and had a lot in common. But things just weren't working, and you decided you'd be better off as friends. Besides, he's never been happier now that he has Steve. And fuck knows Steve is totally over the moon to have his love after a long line of absolute duds.

“Thanks, Eds.” You reply, immediately grabbing the bottle of liquor to pour some into a glass. 

“Eager to get the party started, huh?” Jonathan asks, giving you an odd glance. It usually takes a wee bit of playful peer pressure to get you to drink up, and here you are beating them all to the punch.

“Yeah. Why not?” You answer casually, knocking back a shot's worth before filling the glass halfway. You don't even bother with ice, you need the full sting of the alcohol to loosen your lips a little. Everyone else gets their drinks, and you all make your way to the couch and chairs in your humble living room. Nancy sits on Jonathan's lap on the sofa, Robin and Argyle taking the space beside them. Steve and Eddie take chairs side by side, while you stay standing. 

“Something wrong, Y/N?” Steve questions, noticing your fingers anxiously tapping on your glass. Now that you're standing in front of them, your confidence is resting on shaky ground.

“Uh, yeah. I just, um…h-have something I've been wanting to tell you guys.” You start, eyes darting between them and the floor. 

“You're not knocked up are you?” Eddie jokes, earning a smack from Steve. “Ow! Sorry, kidding.” He puts his hands up defensively, ignoring the disapproving glare from his boyfriend.

“It's fine. And no, it's not that.” You let out a dry giggle, partially wishing it really was something that simple. 

“Ooh, does someone have a new boy toy?” Nancy pipes up, drawing ‘oohs’ from the others.

“Nah, he'd be hangin’ off her arm right now if she did.” Argyle chuckles. The rest of them laugh, too, further detracting from what you're trying to do here. You grip your glass tighter as they go back and forth making comments and poking fun. You know they mean well, and you love them to pieces. But you need a damn second to say this before you change your mind.

“That's not it, alright!?” You snap, shutting them up. The group looks at you with wide eyes, and you sigh. “Sorry. It's just really important that I tell you guys this. It's been weighing on me for a while, and I need you to listen.”  

“It's fine, angel. We shouldn't have interrupted. Tell us what's goin’ on.” Eddie says apologetically, gesturing to give you the floor. 

“Okay.” You pause, taking a deep breath. “I'm just gonna…come out and say it.” You scoff at your own unintended pun. “I'm…” You clear your throat, and spit it out already. “...bisexual.” You finish, holding your breath now as the room is still silent.

“Is that all?” Steve asks, raising an eyebrow. You frown, and he elaborates. “Sorry, I just thought we knew this already.” He shrugs.

“What? No!” You cross your arms, getting defensive. You search the eyes of your other friends, finding no amount of surprise in them whatsoever. “You mean to tell me everybody knew except for me?” You ask in annoyance.

“To be honest, princess? We thought you did, too.” Eddie replies, bearing an awkward expression.

“Well, I didn't, so…” You say meekly, overwhelmingly embarrassed. They all knew. It makes you wonder, if perhaps there's some big, obnoxious neon sign on your forehead that says ‘QUEER’ on it. Bright and flashing for everyone to see, except for you. “God, I’m a fucking idiot.” You scoff again, shaking your head. You down the rest of your drink, storming off to the kitchen for another. 

“Y/N.” Robin calls after you, getting up from her seat to follow you. The others are only a step behind, on a mission to comfort you. Rob meets you at the counter, putting her hand on your shoulder as you pour a larger glass this time. You hesitantly meet her gaze, wondering what she'll say. “Y/N, you're not an idiot. Okay? We know how hard figuring this out is. Well, most of us, anyway.” She gets a small laugh from the others at that, as well as you. “Look, maybe we knew before you did, but that's not a bad thing. We've been where you are. Hiding, denying, feeling confused and afraid. But we love you exactly as you are, no matter what.” She pulls you in for a tight hug, and you gladly squeeze her back with all your might. 

“You're stuck with us, babydoll. Us queers have to stick together.” Eddie adds, making you laugh through your happy tears. He joins in the hug, followed by the rest of your wonderful friends. 

“Thanks, guys. I'm so lucky to call you my friends, my family. I love you all so much.” You say affectionately, muffled against Robin's shoulder.

“We love you too, man.” Argyle speaks on everyone's behalf, earning silent nods as they surround you in a comforting huddle.

“You okay, Y/N? You went somewhere else for a minute there.” Chrissy pulls you out of your own head, concern staining the smile on her face.

“Yeah. I'm fine. Where were we?” You answer, focusing on sharing this moment with her. 

“Well…” She smirks, lowering herself to kiss your lips. It's soft and warm, and heat pools in your belly. “...I was gonna go down on my girlfriend.” Another kiss, firmer this time, but still just as loving. “Is that what you want, baby?” She purrs, waiting for your permission.

“Yes.” You whisper back, earning her mouth on yours once again. Chrissy slips her tongue past your lips, tangling with your own. Quiet moans leave you both, the temperature in the room quickly rising. Her fingers nimbly open the buttons on your blouse, the fabric parting to reveal your bra. Her hands trail up your waist and over your ribs, meeting the plush cups covering your breasts. She's not shy about squeezing them together, getting a real feel for the size and shape of them. “Chris.” You moan as her lips leave yours to find your neck instead. 

Chrissy’s movements are completely self-assured. Simultaneously keeping you at ease, and driving you wild with arousal. You've never felt more comfortable getting intimate with someone than you do right now. Every kiss and touch feels like the best decision ever made, all by her hand. Though it's far too early to say it out loud, it's certain that you're falling in love with her. “Sit up, I wanna see more of my gorgeous girl.” Chrissy coos, backing off to let you up. You do as she asks, and she gently sheds you of your shirt before reaching around to your back. The clasp of your bra unhooks as if by magic, the straps falling slack from your shoulders. She gingerly removes the piece of underwear from you, revealing your pert mounds, nipples stiffened in the centers. “God, you're so pretty.” Chrissy exhales, finding your gaze again. 

“Thanks.” You blush, bashfully looking up at her through your lashes. The way she's admiring you with her eyes, it's like you're a mythical goddess she's vying to worship. No man has ever looked at you this way, not even Eddie, who was definitely the best of them. It's as if you're truly being seen for the very first time. “Baby…” You let out a small giggle, having to turn away as her stare burns into you with the power of a thousand smiling suns.

“Oh, honey. Don't look away.” Chrissy tuts as she guides you to face her again, her soft fingers leading your chin. “You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met. Can you really blame me for getting lost in your image?” She says earnestly, the words charging the air with intense sexual electricity. It's official, you're about one step away from proposing if she keeps this up. 

“I guess not.” You chuckle, unsure what else to say. Without another word, Chrissy leads you to lie down again. She follows you downward, her lips finding your collarbone next. She takes your bare breasts in her hands, sweetly massaging them in her palms. Her thin fingers and thumbs lovingly work your nipples, earning more quiet moans from you. Her mouth travels further along, meeting the top of your chest. The kisses she leaves are silky and warm, dialing up the simmering heat inside of you at a steady pace. 

Chrissy keeps going, her hands leaving your tits to be replaced by her eager mouth. She kisses every inch she can reach, making your head feel light. Her hands reach further down your body, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding the zipper down its track. She slips inside the opening, finding what she imagines are matching panties. She presses on, no hesitation as she maneuvers underneath the luxe fabric to locate your needy clit. 

“Fuck.” You moan as Chrissy's fingertips whisper over the sensitive bud.

“Oh, you're so wet, honey...”  She smiles against your skin, pleased to know how good she's making you feel. She swirls your slick around, toying between your folds, circling your weeping hole. Her lips continue to worship your tits, licking and sucking to keep the pretty sounds spilling out of you. Your thigh happens to be between her legs in this position, and she can't help grinding against it as she's becoming rather worked up herself. She sighs into your flesh at the friction, your head spinning even more at the angelic sound.

“Feels so good, baby.” You say softly, cradling her head in your hand. Her strawberry blonde hair is in a ponytail, it almost always is, giving you the perfect view of her gorgeous face. Her plush lips and succulent tongue toil over your left nipple, her eyes blissfully closed. You can feel her breath fanning hotly across your skin, hear the soft moans as she slowly continues to grind on your leg, while her hand keeps riling you up inside your pants. After a few moments of being entranced by her, Chrissy slips two fingers into your soaked cunt. “Oh, god…” You whimper as she fills you up, curling her digits to hit your g-spot. The motion is slow and repetitive, teasing you before the main event. 

She pulls her lips away from your addictive flesh, cupping your cheek. “I can't wait to taste how sweet you are.” She says softly, shifting herself off of your thigh to rest between your legs. Her hands reach for the waistband of your jeans, pulling them down along with your panties. You're left completely exposed to her now, knees tented to reveal your soaked pussy. Chrissy's smile grows at the sight, a twinkle of lust in her eyes as her gaze shifts between your face and cunt. “You ready for me, Y/N?” She asks, one final chance to make sure you're ready for this.

“Yes. Please.” You reply, without a care in the world for how needy you sound. A breathy giggle leaves her at that, and she maneuvers herself above where you desire her most. Her eyes flutter at the scent of you, musky and inviting. It's tempting for her to kiss your inner thighs first, drive you a teensy bit more insane before giving you what you want. But the unabashed begging in your expression makes her think better of it. Instead, she leans in, and licks a thick, wet stripe from your entrance to your clit. “Oh, fuck…” You gasp loudly, clutching at the couch cushions with your hands. It would be obvious to say you've been eaten out many times before, but nothing like this. It's like Chrissy’s tongue was made for you, setting your insides ablaze with a single stroke. You've never experienced anything so intense before, it almost makes you feel like you've gone crazy, or been dosed with some unknown drug.

“That feel good, baby?” She asks, gingerly gripping your thighs to hold you in place. She's both surprised and amused that you tried so hard not to squirm or buck your hips from one simple touch.

“Yes. So fucking good, Chris. Better than anything I've ever felt before.” The words pour out of you as if on command, all sense of control leaving your already sweating body. 

“Yeah? Good thing I'm just getting started.” She says lowly, more dark and seductive than you've ever heard from her previously. It nearly sends your eyes rolling back into your head. That is, until her tongue returns between your folds where it belongs. 

“Fucking christ…” You moan as she carefully circles around your sensitive bud, occasionally licking downwards to find every last sensitive nerve at your entrance. It takes everything in you not to grind into her face, or pin her down with your hands. Instead, one hand grasps the end of the couch cushion, while the other claws for the armrest above your head. It's all you can do to keep yourself even slightly together, and focus on the immense pleasure Chrissy gives you.

“So sweet, baby. Such pretty noises, too.” She praises between passionate licks. 

You can’t offer much in reply besides your shameless moans, hands squeezing the plush of the couch as she drives you near the edge. It won’t take much longer at all, it’s almost embarrassing how quickly Chrissy has worked you up so close to climax. Her tongue prods around the spot that sends your knees buckling every time, making your thighs jerk in her grip. “Fuck.” You gasp, hoping she’ll keep touching you…

“Right there?” Chrissy asks in a sultry tone, repeating the motion to get an answer out of you.

“Yeah, fuck, right there. Don’t stop.” You answer breathlessly, sweat gathering on your brow, and in the bends of your knees. You’re practically digging holes into the upholstery of the sofa at this point, nails clawing so deep when you wish they were buried in Chrissy’s silky locks instead. Self-control wanes from you, and you can’t stop twitching and mewling with every stroke of her tongue against your pussy. 

“So close already, baby?” She asks, struggling to hold your legs still while she eats you out. 

“Mhm, don’t stop..please, wanna…wanna cum.” You say desperately to her, dangling over the precipice of complete and utter bliss now. All she has to do is cut you loose and let you fall. You can’t hold back anymore, your hands taking control of her head before you even register what you’re doing. There’s a gnawing need deep inside yourself, and you have to help Chrissy relieve it. She moans against you at your forcefulness, allowing you to take some control. Your fingers are weaved deep inside her hair, your hips rolling furiously into her pretty face. “So close, so close…” You whimper, panting like a feral animal. Your insides start to quiver as your orgasm comes into view, bright twinkling stars threatening to flood your vision. Chrissy pushes you that much further by keeping your pace, working your weak spot and your clit in tandem. “Oh, god, oh, oh, OH…” Your moans grow louder as your high ramps up, and one perfectly placed stroke of Chrissy’s tongue sends you toppling over the edge. “Chris一 fuck!” You cry out as your thighs tremble in her grip, hips bucking without rhyme or reason as you cum hard on her face. 

“Mm.” Chrissy moans as she drinks up your juices, her eyes glued to the beautiful expression on your face in this moment. Eyes screwed closed, mouth agape in ecstasy, skin glistening with sweat as pleasure rips through you. It’s an expression she’s only seen once thus far, but it’s one she’ll strive to see again and again for as long as she knows you. She strokes your thighs gently as you slowly come down from your high, planting a warm kiss to your hip before pulling away. “How was that, honey?” She asks, words dripping with honey as she lays herself on top of you. Her weight rests carefully over yours, drawing your lust-drenched eyes to find her gorgeous face gazing upon you with even more admiration than before, if that’s even possible.

“It was the best I’ve ever had, baby.” You say with a satisfied smile, lifting your head to give her a kiss. You hum at the taste of yourself, and the plush warmth of her lips. You pull away a moment after, lips still brushing against one another as the fire is reignited in your belly. “Your turn.” You add, soft and confident. You’re ready to take your first try at this, because with Chrissy, every single thing feels easy.

[7-wonders]

Our Very Own Greek Tragedy (Pt. 2 of 2)

Morpheus/Dream of the Endless x Reader

Summary: As the weeks begin to stretch on with no solution as to why you can't remember Morpheus and the Dreaming when you wake up, you begin to lose hope. Can yours be the rare tragedy with a happy ending?

Or, part two of "yes this is based on that post that I made about Reader and Morpheus being in a relationship in the Dreaming but then you don't remember your dreams when you wake up."

Word Count: 5.5k

Notes: Thank you guys so so so much for being patient with me as I dealt with one of the worst months I've ever been through, as well as your sweet messages. I cannot thank you enough for your support. I can only hope that, amidst the grief and the stress, this makes some sort of sense.

Let me know your thoughts! Feedback is always appreciated, likes, comments, and reblogs keep me going and make me happy, and my inbox is always open to chat about whatever!

Part One of Two

“...and for some reason, instead of choosing fight or flight, my body chose fight and flight.”

“Oh, no!”

“Oh, yes. So anyways, that’s how I got a five-year ban from the biggest haunted house in the city.” The man sitting across from you finishes telling his riot of a story about when he punched an actor playing Michael Myers in the face while simultaneously screaming and trying to run away, making you laugh harshly into the glass of water you’re attempting to take a sip out of.

Derek is 27, a software engineer who loves science fiction and photography. He’s handsome in a nerdy way, his big brown eyes hidden behind a pair of glasses and his brown hair simultaneously sophisticated and messy. Polite and with an understated sense of humor you’ve been laughing the entirety of tonight. Your friends have set you up on a date with him, insisting that he’s just your type and that you need to get out and meet new people.

And they’re right. Derek is traditionally your type, everything you’ve historically gone for in a potential partner. That’s why it’s so confusing that you’re really not that into him. He’s nice, to be sure, and you’re having fun, but in the way that you’d have fun when hanging out with one of your friends. It doesn’t feel right to call it a date.

You haven’t been feeling right the past couple of weeks, if you’re being honest with yourself. For some reason, it all seems to stem back to your sleep. Where before you would wake up everyday feeling refreshed and happy, now you find yourself defeated and upset before you can even get out of bed. It’s frustrating, even more so because you don’t know why it is that you’re feeling this way since you can’t remember whatever it is you’re dreaming about.

Maybe that’s why you’re surreptitiously checking the time on the clock above Derek’s shoulder, hoping that the next time you look, it will be an acceptable amount of time that you’ve been on this date and can suggest that it’s time for it to end. Maybe it’s just because you don’t feel a spark, which is too bad. You’ve enjoyed tonight, but on a strictly platonic level.

Eventually the date does come to an end. Derek drives you back to your home and even walks you to the door–a perfect gentleman, and normally a move you’d swoon over. Instead, you’re just feeling tired and more than a little bad at the fact that you don’t reciprocate the feelings you know that he has.

“I had a great time tonight,” Derek says, shyly shoving his hands into his coat pocket. He rocks back on his feet, trying to remain a respectable distance away.

“Yeah, it was fun!” You’re not lying to him; tonight was fun, just not romantically. 

When his eyes flick from yours to your lips and back again, you decide to beat him to what he’s inevitably going to start leaning in for and give him a kiss on the cheek. To his credit, he hides the disappointment very well.

“Let me know when you get home safely?” you ask.

He nods a little too enthusiastically. God, it’s gonna suck having to tell him that you don’t want to date him. “Absolutely. I’ll talk to you soon.”

You smile and wave goodbye at him as he walks back to his car. The moment you close the door, your cheerful facade drops and you sigh heavily. Well, you think, at least it’s over.

Derek later texts you as promised, and you respond with a smiley face emoji and wishes for sweet dreams before setting your phone to ‘do not disturb.’ Tomorrow, you decide before you fall asleep. You’ll rip the bandage off with him tomorrow.

When you open your eyes in the Dreaming, guilt immediately begins to eat at you. There it is, your nightly refresher as to why you’re so miserable as of late; because you can’t remember the love of your life, the King of Dreams and Ruler of the Nightmare Realm, unless you’re asleep and with him in said realm. The moment that you open your eyes back in the Waking, which is where you spend the majority of your time, it’s as if Dream of the Endless doesn’t exist. Hence, the date you allowed yourself to be set up on.

While you’re certainly not doing any of this on purpose, that doesn’t make it any better. You’ve basically just cheated on Dream and had no qualms about it since your stupid Waking body doesn’t know that you’re in love. Though…maybe, subconsciously, you do? That’s really the only reason you can think of as to why you were so turned off of everything about the evening’s events and your date. It doesn’t make you feel that much better, but knowing that there’s a chance that your very soul knows who it belongs to (just as the holder of your soul belongs to you) does help.

Regardless, the guilt leads you to not leave the library and actively seek Morpheus out like you usually would. You’re definitely not hiding from him when you grab one of Sylvia Plath’s unpublished novels and tuck yourself in a small alcove with a window giving you a view of the mountains that are home to both dreams and nightmares. No, you’re just…making yourself scarce and catching up on some reading you didn’t know you had been wanting to do. Besides, Morpheus is busy running a realm and being Endless. Surely he has more, and better, to do than hunt you down?

Apparently, you’re mistaken. Barely an hour (at least, you think it’s an hour; time is a fickle, funny thing in the Dreaming) passes before the hair on the back of your neck prickles, the air shifts, and Morpheus appears in front of you. The stars in his eyes, which have always been your true indicator as to how he’s feeling, twinkle with all of the joy that his barely-there smile hides. It makes your heart, heavy with the knowledge of your betrayal, ache.

“My starlight,” he greets, holding a hand out for you to take. 

Your knee pops when you stand, and you stifle a laugh at the horrified look on Morpheus’s face. It’s fun getting to see his reactions to the normal plights of humans, including joints that make odd noises.

“Hi.” You lean in to kiss him, and the look on his face after you do so tells you that nothing’s going to get by him.

“Something is wrong.”

Dammit. And just when you had decided on the course of pretending like everything was a-okay.

“What makes you say that?” you stammer.

“Your eyes.” His hand comes to your cheek, and his thumb strokes the skin under your eye. “You’re…sad. Uncertain. Why?”

Dammit.

Instead of answering, you throw your arms around him and bury your face into his chest. You can’t look at him, not when you whisper, “I went on a date.”

Morpheus hums, not hearing what you said. “What?”

“I said, I went on a date.”

He stiffens under your hold, and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. You pull away from him, holding your hands behind your back in an attempt to keep them from shaking so violently. They still continue to shake, but at least Morpheus doesn’t see it.

“I didn’t even like him!” you try to explain. “I went because my friends basically forced me on a date and I wanted to get them off my case. We had dinner, it was nice, then he drove me back home. That’s it. But then I woke up here and I’m so ashamed at what I did. I couldn’t keep something like this from you.”

Morpheus is silent as he tries to keep his composure, and you don’t blame him. You’d be mad too, even if there are extenuating circumstances that led to the aforementioned date. Though you want to keep talking and trying to explain yourself, you know that this would just lead to you continuing to dig a bigger hole for yourself, so you wait for him to make the first move.

When he does speak, he does so quietly. You’re staring out the window, too nervous to face him, but you can feel his gaze on you as he says, “You are not at fault here.” 

You scoff. He repeats this phrase so often lately that you wouldn’t be surprised if it becomes the new Dreaming slogan. You know he’s speaking truthfully, that he doesn’t hold any sort of contempt towards you for this. As he’s said to you so many times now, he can’t be mad at you when you quite literally don’t remember any part of the Dreaming when you wake up. You, however, can and will be extremely mad at yourself.

Days of research into why you don’t remember and how you could potentially remember has turned into weeks of research, which has now become months of research. And still, you’re not any closer to finding an answer to this question that’s plagued both you and Morpheus. Any of the rare potential solutions that you’ve come up with have been unfeasible: witches asked too high a price with no guarantee that anything they tried would work, Morpheus’s few mortal contacts could not find any lead to help, and the Dreaming’s library didn’t hold any answers.

The only real fix that anybody had come up with would be for you to move to the Dreaming permanently. While that was certainly a plan that you had, you also still enjoyed the life that you live in the Waking, and there would be loose ends for you to tie up in order to move. Morpheus would basically have to kidnap your unknowing, Waking self, and neither you nor he were willing to deal with the potential trauma of that, no matter how desperate you were becoming.

“Well it still feels a lot like I am,” you say, “especially when it’s causing you so much pain.”

“You are in pain as well,” Morpheus points out.

He’s right, of course. You really hate it when he’s right; and he’s right a lot. Another perk of being Endless, you suppose. That, or being alive for a really long time just gives you the natural ability to always know what to say.

“You’re not mad at me for basically cheating on you?” you ask. 

You’re not at all expecting Morpheus to laugh at your earnest question. Though you’ve heard his laugh before, it’s always a little disconcerting; harsh and grating, like it’s coming from someone who’s both never laughed and never heard a laugh. Even still, you love his awful, full-throated laugh. You just didn’t think that this situation would elicit such a reaction from him.

“I would hardly call one miserable evening spent with a male suitor who did not have any sort of chance with you ‘cheating,’ my love.” He seems awfully pleased about all of this, and while you’re happy for him, you’re also a little confused. “You said it yourself that your friends forced you to go, and that you had no interest in the man. I am jealous that I was not the one able to take you to dinner in the Waking, but there is nothing for you to feel any sort of guilt over.”

It’s certainly a relief to know that he doesn’t hold any grudge against you, nor does he see this as the same grievous error that you do. You’d feel a whole lot more relieved, however, if you didn’t have to worry about any of this at all and could just be happy with your love in both of your realms.

“What do we do?” you ask finally, today’s Waking events giving you a bad feeling about things to come.

“We continue to search, and in the meantime, we love each other as we always have.”

“You still want me?” You’re only half-joking, and he knows it. “Even with all of this trouble?”

“I want you in any way that I can have you. If, one day, you were to decide that our love was not meant to be, I would still be content with being a mere observer in your life.”

“I would never,” you say earnestly. “You know that, right? Sorry to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me.”

“And what an honor and a joy it is,” he says before leaning down to rest his forehead against yours.

The odds, you know, are insurmountable. But for now, here, in Morpheus’s arms, it feels a little more doable. 

•••

Morpheus remains in his throne room long after you’ve returned to the Waking. Though he did his best to take both your mind and his off of the troubles you’re facing, the awareness of said troubles always remains on the periphery. Now, he stares up at the galaxy that swirls above his head, hoping that the stars will hold some sort of answer within their constellations.

What if there is no solution? What if this is just the universe’s way of truly expressing its disdain for Morpheus; by giving him the love that he had only wished to have, just for his lover to be doomed not to remember him when not in the Dreaming? Some would call him dramatic, but he believes that, were this to be the case, he would not survive such a heartbreak. Now that he’s had you in his life, he simply cannot go on living any sort of an existence without you.

He’s teetering precariously on the edge of a dangerous thought spiral when Matthew lands on his throne with a caw, breaking him out of such morose thinking. “Boss, you got a minute?”

“What do you require, Matthew?” Morpheus asks.

“Lucienne is looking for you, she wants you to meet her in the library when you get the chance.”

It’s not as if he’s doing anything but brooding (moping, you would call it), so Morpheus stands from the stairs that he finds preferable to his throne when he’s not required to conduct official business and nods at his emissary. “Let us not keep her waiting, then.” 

Lucienne looks as though she’s been waiting for Morpheus to arrive since the moment she sent Matthew off to request an audience with him. She’s already looking down the long aisle that gives her a direct view of the main doors from her desk, and she stands in recognition when Morpheus and Matthew appear.

“Matthew said you were looking for me?”

“My Lord,” Lucienne greets. “Do you remember when Lady Constantine completed a task for you in 1794?” She has the tact to not say what that task was, knowing that giving more detail than necessary will do nothing but bring more heartbreak to Morpheus.

He nods. “Of course.”

“You had her drink from a spring near the Shores of Creation, so that she would remember the conversation she had with you about how to escape Robespierre. Might that same spring be an option for her Ladyship?”

Even in such dire circumstances, Morpheus still finds himself fighting a smile at the title Lucienne addresses you as. You hate being referred to so formally, and always insist to everyone that they just call you by your name if they need to address you. Most have adjusted to the request, but Lucienne still holds steadfast to traditional conventions.

“When I rebuilt the Dreaming, the spring did not come back. I know not why, nor do I know how it came to be all those years ago,” Morpheus explains.

“So we must attempt to find answers through other avenues. Perhaps we peek into the past?”

“Do we know any time travelers?” Matthew muses lightheartedly.

Morpheus shakes his head and says, “The last time traveler I knew, I have not seen in almost three hundred years.”

Matthew’s feathers ruffle as if he’s about to comment on how he was just making a joke and didn’t expect time travelers to actually be real, but Lucienne cuts in with an idea before he can speak. “The Fates could potentially help.”

“As you said to me once before, the Fates speak in riddles. I do not believe they would be particularly insightful in a matter such as this.”

She nods, and thinks for a moment more. “Your sister has continually reminded you that the family is willing to assist one another, given such assistance is asked for. Might Destiny be willing?”

His first instinct is to emphatically turn down this suggestion. But Lucienne is right; the Endless siblings (most of them, that is), for all their interpersonal troubles, are also more than willing to help out another member of the family should they ask. For most members of the family, their price for assisting with such a request would be far too steep. However…

He has two siblings that would be the most open to helping, and only one would do so solely based on a sense of duty. That same sibling would likely hold the most information about the past, which is the information that he needs. However, this could also be a dead end. For all that Morpheus insists on sticking to the rules that help to keep his realm in order, his older brother somehow makes Morpheus look like a rebellious teen when it comes to following rules.

It’s a gamble, but it seems to be pretty safe. With that in mind, Morpheus makes his decision. “As far as my siblings are concerned, Destiny is the one that would not require any sort of favor from me. If it is written in the Book that he is meant to help me, then he shall. Likewise, he will not help if that is what the Book commands.”

“It is likely the lowest stakes you are going to get here. And if Destiny cannot help, the Fates can serve as a backup plan,” Lucienne points out.

“I shall contact my brother, then.” He waits for Matthew to land on his shoulder before turning back to look at his librarian. “Thank you for your wisdom and assistance, Lucienne. It is…much appreciated.”

Lucienne flattens her lips against each other, but it does nothing to stop the smile that’s fighting to appear on her face. “You’re most welcome, my Lord.”

Morpheus nods and tries not to look as humbled as he feels. He really must stop taking Lucienne and her counsel for granted. How many times throughout the course of Lucienne’s long, long life spent as a creature of the Dreaming has she talked Morpheus off of the proverbial ledge?

As he walks into his gallery to request a meeting with his brother, the first frame, the one containing a large book, begins to glow. “Dream,” a voice says from the frame, “it is I, Destiny of the Endless. I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil, brother. Won’t you come through?”

This meeting was meant to happen, then.

“I will go alone, Matthew,” Morpheus directs. Though Matthew shifts uncomfortably, like he’s not quite sure he wants to let Morpheus do this without him, he jerks his head in a nod nonetheless.

“Good luck!” Matthew wishes before taking off through the open door and making his way back into the Dreaming proper. With a sigh, Morpheus rolls his shoulders back to make himself stand straight and proud as he steps through the portrait frame and out into his eldest sibling’s realm.

The Garden of Forking Ways is always a little disconcerting, no matter how many times Morpheus has visited the realm of Destiny of the Endless. There are an infinite number of paths that one might take, so many that it becomes almost dizzying to look at, and Morpheus imagines it would be quite easy to become forever lost in this never-ending labyrinth. Thankfully, his brother has been expecting him, and is there the moment that Morpheus appears.

“Well-met, Destiny,” Dream greets.

Destiny stands as tall and imposing as ever, the hood of his cloak pulled low over his unseeing, milky eyes. Those that know him, which is really only his siblings, would argue that, though Destiny is blind, he, in fact, sees all, even that which everyone else cannot see with normal vision. 

When Dream arrives, Destiny lays a hand over the book that is forever chained to him. Evidently, the book has told him whatever it is he needed to know, for he nods and gestures Dream closer to him.

“My brother, I thank you for answering my call.” This is as warm as Destiny will ever get; Morpheus, however, has had an eternity to get used to these mannerisms, and knows that this is uncharacteristically tender coming from Destiny.

“You call on the family so little, and I can hardly recall the last time you summoned me individually. What is the matter?”

“Father Time visited my realm some time ago. He said that he had a boon for you, one that was granted as some recompense for your imprisonment. Father, being who he is, could not remember if your boon would help you in the past, present, or future. At least, I believed that he could not remember, for when I asked which it was, he simply said ‘yes’ before taking his leave.”

Morpheus would be lying if he were to say that he didn’t believe he deserved some sort of restitution from the universe or the Creator for all that he had gone through. Still, he never imagined that said amends would be coming from Father Time, who, at best, has only ever shown a vague disinterest in the lives of his children.

(He would also be lying if he were to say that he wasn’t at least a little jealous that their father had deigned to bless one of his children with a rare visit. Of course it was Destiny; the eldest, the wisest, the favorite. He thought that he had long-since come to terms with his family and their strange dynamics, but something about being directly confronted with such a fact has him feeling every bit the middle child that he is.)

From within his robes, Destiny produces a vial which he holds out towards his brother between his thumb and forefinger. Morpheus stares at the pink liquid within and wonders if he should really get his hopes up, or if this is just simply a cruel joke. But no, it’s not. He can feel the dreamstuff that the liquid is made out of, for he is also dreamstuff, and the dreamstuff is he. Like recognizes like.

“I now understand what he meant, and I believe you will as well. Do you know what this is?”

Of course he knows what it is. How could he not, when, for all intents and purposes, it appears to be of his realm? “Water from the spring that used to run near the Shores of Creation?”

Destiny nods, and Morpheus feels his chest tighten. “Thus, his comments make perfect sense now. The past, being that this spring no longer flows in your realm. Presently, you are looking for a solution. With this, your future will be achieved, one way or another.”

He very much agrees with that hypothesis, though the last statement does cause him to pause. “What do you mean, brother? ‘One way or another’?”

“I have said what is to be said.”

To be fair, it’s more than what Destiny would typically say in such a situation, and Morpheus is grateful for it. Still, he remains wary; when has his family ever been clear in their actions without any sort of ulterior motive? “And it is mine? There are no…stipulations, or deals that I must adhere to?”

“It was given freely, for you to use as you wish. A gift, and nothing more.”

For the first time in weeks, Morpheus feels like he can breathe freely. “Thank you, Destiny. Truly.”

“I wish luck to you and your bride. I shall see you soon, when realms meet and the old converges with the new.”

Morpheus doesn’t bother trying to decipher his brother’s cryptic words. What will be, will be, and only once it’s happened will the connection to Destiny’s prophecy make sense.

His own gallery appears before him in a flash, Destiny having sent his brother back to his own realm upon their business being concluded. The vial of spring water still remains in his hand, and he closes his hand around it tightly to remind himself that it’s here and real. The solution that they’ve been searching for, housed in such a small container that he almost worries that he’ll misplace it. 

For the rest of the day, he can only halfheartedly complete the tasks that he had intended to finish. His mind is so distracted that, at one point, he’s pretty sure that he gave The Corinthian (remade without certain traits that made the first iteration a failed project) permission to take a day trip to the Waking. That will surely have to be addressed later, but it can wait. It has to wait. The only thing that he can think clearly about is the small bottle currently sitting in his pocket, which might finally hold the key to your problems.

Morpheus can feel you pass through the barrier separating your realm from his almost as easily as he can feel Matthew do the same. So when you finally, finally fall asleep, he’s there in the library at the exact same moment as you. When you see him, you jump in fright, obviously not expecting him to be right in front of you.

“Give a little warning next time you feel the need to try and send me into a heart attack!” Regardless of your feigned chagrin, you kiss him in greeting before smiling at him.

“Hopefully you’ll forgive me when I tell you that I have good news.”

“What kind of good news?”

Morpheus feels as though every atom in his body is vibrating from the excitement, so much so that he glances down at his hands to see if they’re physically shaking (they’re not). “I appear to have been granted a boon from my father.”

You look bewildered, but it’s not towards what Morpheus had been expecting you to be confused about. “You have a dad?”

“Time.”

“We’ll focus on that later,” you say, shaking your head as if to draw yourself away from this new fact. “What did he give you?”

“Long ago, a spring ran through the Dreaming. The waters of this spring, when consumed, allowed the drinker to remember what had happened within the Dreaming as easily as if they were recalling their day in the Waking. After my imprisonment, when I rebuilt my realm, the spring was absent, for reasons unknown to me.

“Father told my brother, Destiny, that I was owed recompense for my capture, and that the gift he entrusted Destiny to give to me was such payment.” Morpheus reaches into the pocket on the outside of his coat, the only one with lining not made of the universe, and pulls out the glass vial. “The gift was water from the spring, water that I did not believe would ever be in the Dreaming again.”

“So, if I drink this, then…” You don’t say what you’re thinking, not wanting to get your hopes up. Morpheus, having been in your shoes mere hours before, knows exactly how you’re feeling.

“You should be able to remember everything about the Dreaming, about me, when you wake up.” Morpheus hands you the glass container, pressing it gently into your palm. “I will not force you to drink it, however. The choice is yours.”

You scoff and tease, “Do all of the declarations of love and fidelity mean nothing to you?”

The top of the vial is pried off with the nail of your thumb, and you take an experimental sniff of the liquid inside. Once it’s passed whatever test you’ve just administered, you toss your head back and take it as though it’s a shot of liquor. Morpheus doesn’t ever recall actually being one to take a shot, but one sees their fair share of creatures imbibing on all manner of alcohol when one converses with the likes of Faerie and gods.

The actual act of you drinking the water is anticlimactic, and the disappointment shows clearly on your face when you say, “I don’t feel any different.” Still, Morpheus is not discouraged.

“Though it has been about three hundred years since the spring was last used, I do not recall any instant symptoms to show that it had worked. Unfortunately, the only thing we can do is wait.”

Despite his reassurance, you still pout. “Well, that sucks.”

“I am quite sure that we will find some way to pass the time until you wake,” Morpheus says, as if you’ve forgotten that you can quite literally do whatever you want when in the Dreaming. “In the meantime, there is something that I wish to give you.”

“Something else besides magic water?”

“Close your eyes.”

You do as he asks, of course. He moves to stand behind you, reaching into the air and pulling down the gift that he has been intending to give you. His long fingers work to fasten a clasp after he lays the chain around your neck, and when he finishes, he lays his hands on your shoulders. Taking that as a signal, you open your eyes again and look down.

A beautiful silver necklace rests just under the hollow of your throat. He watches as you hold the charm in your hand and run your thumb down the notches of the vertebrae-like trunk. Once you realize that it’s his sigil you hold, you turn in his grasp to meet his eyes.

“Morpheus, this is–” You’re stunned at the significance of such a gift. While he had discussed his desire to give you a wedding ring, being aware of the mortal custom for married couples to wear such jewelry, for Morpheus, this is his version of such a token that signifies devotion and partnership.

“It is yours, and shall remain on your neck when you return to the Waking. My hope is that you will remember me when you wake. If that is the case, you need only call for me while holding my sigil, and I will hear you.”

You kiss him repeatedly in thanks until his head feels like it’s spinning and he starts to think that he understands what mortal dizziness must feel like. “Thank you, truly. I’ve never received such a meaningful gift before.”

“Let us hope you can actually use it come tomorrow. Now, I believe I promised that I would let you win our next chess match?” He had promised such a thing after you had begged him to teach you how to play and then witnessed your subsequent frustration upon continually losing to a being who has played the game since its invention.

“Just announce it to everybody that I suck at chess, why don’t you,” you say fondly before taking his offered hand and letting him do his best to help find some way to pass the time until you wake.

•••

When you open your eyes and catalog the mid-morning sun filtering in through a crack in your curtains, you notice that this is the best that you’ve felt after waking up for weeks now. You roll over, hoping to catch a couple more hours of sleep since it’s the weekend and you have nowhere to be until the afternoon. A sharp poking on your chest has you aborting the idea of laying on your stomach, and you sit up instead to see what it is that’s disrupted your plan.

Around your neck lies a necklace that you most definitely did not go to bed wearing. The charm is like nothing you’ve seen before; if you had to guess, you’d call it some weird, mosquito-like creature. Your thumb traces the spiny trunk as you turn it this way and that to study it, and you watch the light glint in the two rubies that you think are meant to be eyes. A bolt of familiarity runs through you, but you’re not sure why.

Then, it hits you. This is Morpheus’s sigil that you’re wearing–a miniature figure of his helm, his main tool of office. 

Morpheus, the love of your life. 

Morpheus, the man who you normally don’t remember when you wake up.

“Morpheus!” you gasp, holding the necklace against your skin with both hands. “My love, I hold the necklace with your sigil on it, which you told me to use to call for you. Can you hear me?”

The seconds stretch out longer than any you’ve ever experienced as you wait agonizingly to see if your summoning worked. Then, the hair on the back of your neck prickles, the air shifts, and a smile grows to match the one that the man with starry eyes that appears standing before you wears.

“You called?”

•••

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[neongreenllama]

You said Antifa Wolfstarbucks and who am I to disagre????? Here are some random unorganised thoughts, just pure word vomit straight from my brain into your inbox!! you're welcome/I'm sorry!!

So Sirius and James probably go to protests all the time, they're such a good team (thinking of that drabble you wrote for the trick or treat ask a while ago <3). But one time they get separated at a protest and Sirius randomly bumps into this guy who's just dancing to Bella Ciao, eyes closed, like the world around him doesn't exist. As established, Sirius is gone for him, listens to Cordula Grün on repeat, we know the drill. Sirius and James eventually find each other again and Sirius can't shut up about the guy he just saw, and how perfect and hot he is. I think Sirius and James are already in a relationship at that point, but they're open and love telling each other about their crushes and other partners/dates. Maybe they're even relationship anarchists? 🖤

So anyways a week or so later they're at a soli party and Sirius is busy playing table football against Peter and James is just out there being a social butterfly, socializing with everyone at the party becoming bffs with anyone who doesn't run away quickly enough, and then he sees Remus, sitting in a corner, reading Karl Marx because he's not like other commies, he actually reads Marx and he needs everyone to know it, you know? James casually walks over to Remus and starts a conversation about Marx, and at first Remus takes one look at James and sighs, thinking he's just another rich guy who doesn't get it but the longer they talk the more he realizes James is actually kind of smart and knows what he's talking about? AND he's cute?? But then James's boyfriend comes over and gives off the WEIRDEST vibes ever, poking James in the ribs, raising his eyebrows and telepathically communicating something to James that Remus doesn't understand at all. James's boyfriend may be the hottest person Remus has ever seen but he's definitely giving off super weird and awkward vibes when he pulls James to the side and says, a bit too loudly, "James, das ist Cordula Grün!!!!" whatever the fuck that means, anarchist weirdos, speaking in code.

Anyways James is very excited by this revelation and goes to buy them all some more beers and maybe a round of Pfeffi, and then another and then another, and James and his boyfriend are now sitting next to Remus on the couch, his little communist manifesto book long forgotten, now being used as a coaster for the Sterni bottle. Anyways, the party eventually dies down but they're not done with their political discussions, reform vs revolution isn't something that can be settled over just 3 drinks, so James casually mentions that his and Sirius's flat is near by, they could stop by a Späti for some more drinks and maybe some snacks or other stuff and continue this at home?

And Remus is so oblivious, of course he goes with them to talk some more about politics, nothing else, what else would these two extremely hot guys who have been casually touching him all evening (in a purely platonic, very friendly way!!!) want from him? Sure, they were all joking about having a threesome and Sirius actually picked up condoms on their way home but they were only joking, they would never actually be into Remus? Sirius and James probably just needed condoms anyways so it just made sense that Sirius bought them when they were in the store. And if Sirius looked at Remus and asked him which brand he preferred that was purely so he didn't feel excluded when third wheeling a couple, which was so nice of him, looking out for his very platonic new friend. Remus is a bit sad they were only joking about the threesome because he really thinks Sirius and James are both extremely hot, AND they actually get Marx? They're basically his dream guys, but *sigh* they would never actually go for someone like Remus, who is he kidding?

So they get to their apartment, and Remus immediately goes to sit at the kitchen table, they're here to settle the age old reform vs revolution debate after all, but James and Sirius just give him a weird look, and James casually suggests the couch in the living room might be a bit more comfy? And Sirius puts out some candles, which he probably only does because his eyes are tired, so he needs soft lighting, that must be why. It's so funny, because he actually says "let me put on some candles for mood lighting, to make it a bit more romantic for us", and Remus just laughs, he loves Sirius's sense of humor, that guy is so funny!! He even kissed him on the mouth when he said it, just a quick little peck and then he got all flustered and red in the face, probably because James was watching them with a grin. They're such good new friends, Remus really likes them and hopes he will get over his crushes quickly so he can actually become friends with them!

Remus is so happy when he sees they have all the books of Das Kapital in their flat, and he stands in front of the bookshelves, looking fondly at his hero, Karl Marx, when James comes up behind him and gives him a back massage, which is so nice of him, Remus did mention he carried a lot of tension in his back, and James is such a nice guy and already a good friend for taking care of him like that.

Sirius puts on music [sidenote: wolfstarbucks playlist? there are SO MANY songs called Liebe zu Dritt, it took me a while to find the one I was thinking of LOL!] and Remus can't NOT dance, it's just such a deep instinct, he hears good music - he has to dance! The lyrics are really funny to him, again another classic example of Sirius's sense of humor!! And the lyrics even mention communism, so he feels very seen. James has gone from massaging his back to just holding his hips and swaying to the music with him and when remus looks back because he wants to compliment Sirius's music choices he sees them making out?? And at first he's a bit taken aback, because that's kind of rude to make him feel like such a third wheel but then Sirius grabs him and they all dance together and he honestly also thinks it's kind of hot that James and Sirius are so open with their love, and he loves watching them, so really, he doesn't mind if they occasionally kiss while they all dance. They keep giving him these looks though, and if he didn't know that they're way out of his league he would almost think they're prompting him to flirt back and kiss one of them? But surely he's mistaken, they couldn't possibly be into him, they're way too hot!!

NOT YOU SENDING ME AN ENTIRE FIC IN MY ASK BOX

Never apologize for your word vomit! (You call it unorganized thoughts but it's an entire fic) And it's Wolfstarbucks!!! WOLFSTARBUCKS EVERYONE STOP SCROLLING!!!! You have no idea how much I love this!!! I don't even know what to say this is perfect begnning to end

I love the Prongsfoot and their amazing communication and being completely open with each other and trusting and 🥺

Ad Remus "I'm not like the other girls" Lupin! And being completely oblivious the whole time!!?? Honeyyyyy, they're so obvious 😭😭😭 The candles and the dancing and the COndOmS bdjsksksjlsjdjd I can't

AND WHAT THEN??? CAT WHAT HAPPENS THEN WHAT ARE YOU DOING STOPPING RIGHT THERE?!! 😭

Will Remus get it eventually? Or will he be say "well it was nice" and go home and everyone ends up totally disappointed? Will they see each other again? Or will they fuck and Remus remains oblivious the whole time? "Just friends doing each other a favor"? "They didn't want me to feel left out"??? Will they start dating and Remus will never know? What happens when he does figure it out? How happy will he be that those two hot amazing guys want him? How will they go to protests in the future? I NEED ANSWERS! If you ever decide to write a second part to this I will love you forever

[clairelsonao3]

Just wanted to tell you that you're an absolute doll, you've made the writeblr community an even more wonderful place since you got here, and you are loved and appreciated. This is your opportunity to (should you so desire) ramble about anything that's on your mind, WIP-related or otherwise. 💕

🥹🥹🥹 Thank you!!! Honestly, I was so shocked and happy to see this in my inbox. The only anons I've gotten previously have been chain letters and hate mail, and so my heart actually SANK when I saw this was an anon. But I don't think this is a chain letter and it's definitely not hate mail, so you absolutely made my day/week/month!

I think I started this blog in March, which makes it over six months now. And it's hard to imagine my life without it. The funny thing is (and I think I've mentioned this before), the week I joined, trying to innocently make friends by joining in some event focused on showcasing our WIPs that purported to be open to anyone, and I had the pleasure of being "greeted" by a couple of "hosts" who hadn't read my work, didn't understand the first thing about it, and took it upon themselves to try to "call me out" for something that I hadn't even done. I was so upset that I was this close to shutting down my account because I thought I wasn't welcome here and it would just get me more of the same.

But I stayed, and I'm so glad I did because I understand now that was an anomaly and simply massively bad luck to encounter that. 99% of my other interactions with people here have been positive, and the support I've found for both my work and myself has been beyond my wildest dreams.

Writing is not easy. This is hard, hard work we do. We, especially those of us who post our work publicly, are (metaphorically) slicing out large chunks of our hearts and souls and presenting them on a platter for people to evaluate and judge. Sometimes it feels like more than just our work. It feels like ourselves. And sometimes I get insecure and anxious. "Oh no, do people like such-and-such person better than me? Is their work better than mine? Is everyone going to abandon me to sit at a different lunch table and whisper and laugh and pass nasty notes about me behind my back?"

Middle school fucked me up good.🤣

I have a very strong hunch that I"m not the only one who deals with these types of feelings sometimes. Initially, I wasn't even going to talk about this, but then I was like, well, it might help someone.

Of course, it gets worse when your WIP is being difficult, too. Well, I sometimes think, this isn't working. Might as well take my toys, shut down my blog, abandon my work, and go home, simply in the interest of self-preservation. (I'm NOT doing this; I don't want anyone to worry!)

But I know that this urge is irrational, as are my fears. And that nothing I do -- especially not sitting and worrying and imagining ridiculous, catastrophic scenarios -- is going to have any effect on the situation, whatever it is. I can't make anyone like me. But what I can do is make sure that I send positivity into the world instead of negativity, and eventually, somehow, the universe will even out, maybe, kind of.

Anyway, all of this is a roundabout way of saying that I know yesterday was technically Worldbuilding Wednesday, and I wanted to send out asks, but then I realized, you know? I don't even really like worldbuilding all that much. 🤣 There are other aspects of writing that interest me much more.

And, to me, the most positive thing I can get is a personalized ask about my WIP. It makes me feel seen, acknowledged, loved, and that my work matters. I don't know, but I can only assume that other people feel the same way. So I sent some.

For those whose WIPs I'm not as familiar with yet, I combed through their blog for info about them, and that took some extra time, which meant I wasn't able to send out as many as I wanted. But that's okay because I'll send out more soon.

Anyway, I'm not sure what the ultimate point is to any of this, but that's what's on my mind. Thank you, anon. You're a doll, too. 💕

[indestinatus]

hi!!! first I wanna say I found you through X / twitter because of your tiva fics and girl... I'm sure you're a ncis writer in disguise. they're so good. I devoured your whole catalogue in like... a week. second, I'm a fic writer myself. and I was wondering if you have any tips for newbies like me to get the voices of these 20+ years characters right. anyway... huge fan!!! 💓

omg anon, that is so sweet :') 💗 thank you so much!

this ask has been sitting in my inbox for the last couple of days because I couldn't deal with answering this properly (like who am I in the great scope of things???) but one thing I know for certain is that I love these characters dearly and that is more than half of it

I think fanfiction, similar to any other type of art, gets better the more the practice, so maybe just read and then write write write? Awful advice (I know) but it was my delusion that stuck me in writing these characters (for 5 years now wtf) and now I'm very aware my newest works are easier to read than my older stuff haha

More specific advice: Tony is always joking. Ziva is always observing. McGee is always trying to do things the correct way. Gibbs doesn't talk, always ordering. Ducky is very endearing. Palmer is bad at jokes. Abby (idk I haven't written her in a while) is constantly excited.

all my insight about these characters in a couple of phrases (omg I'm the worst at this) but I do hope we can read future stories from you (if there's any already please send them to me!!!) and I could you help somehow :) thank you so much!!!

[apprenticestanheight]

Kind of similar to that last platonic request but could you do something where apprentice reader comes out as transmasc to the other apprentices? Thank you!

Coming out to the various apprentices hcs

Hi!! This has been sitting in my inbox for more than a month, which I am SO SORRY ABOUT! Stuff has been all over the place and trying to find work in the past week or so has been a freaking NIGHTMARE so a lot is on my plate in the mental area right now but realistically that's not much of an excuse so again, I am so sorry it's taken me this long!

I'm not the greatest at writing coming out scenes (I can't think of one of my characters who, even if they've been in a straight presenting relationship, has not been queer in some way since I started writing, which makes that sentence ironic) but I did my best with the several I've written/explained here! As is evident by the title, I wrote this out as headcanons, which I hope is okay! Also didn't include logan (watched like, an hour of jigsaw?? maybe?? hated it. hated him. respectfully) which I hope is all right.

Fic type- this is very fluffy!

warnings- none other than the fact that this wasn’t edited before posting (oops)

ALLLLLLL RIGHT!!

You probably just like--I feel like coming out to them individually is the way to go because if you do it with all of them present it'll kind of be like--it'll--something will feel a little bit off because there's some animosity between Amanda and Mark and their reactions will have some variation. Plus, it's just easier anyway because, while you are with them individually a lot of the time, the four of you are together very, very rarely, and typically only when John asks you all to be somewhere at the same time.

So you come out to Amanda first and she takes it REALLY, REALLY WELL!!

The first thing that she does is offer you one of the guys sweaters she keeps in the back of her closet--they're baggy, warm and typically what she'll wear in winter because jersey gets cold during the season.

She also asks you what your preferred name and pronouns are and then takes to them like she's snapped her fingers and your birth name and previous pronouns have left her memory. She is really, really sweet about it and so understanding--as far as the apprentices go, I feel like she reacts the best and handles it the best because she IS queer and has queer friends so she gets it to an extent.

Lawrence and Amandas reactions are similar! He mentions he has a couple of shirts and sweaters and stuff that he doesn't really wear anymore and offers them to you while also asking if you want coffee or tea because you decided to come out while he was just at home (you're working in--idk,, pharmaceuticals?? and so you work close by anyway and Lawrence also wants your opinion on trap stuff so hey! Your meeting has two purposes!)

and then he asks you what your preferred name and pronouns are and takes to them pretty quickly! Once you've left with coffee in a to-go mug and several shirts, sweatpants, hoodies and cardigans and just--clothes that Lawrence doesn't wear anymore that either already fit or can be altered so that they do, Lawrence practices so that he makes sure not to fuck it up because he knows that you're having told him about how you identify is really important and a really special kind of thing and the idea of messing up by calling you the name you used to go by or using the pronouns that make you dysphoric makes him feel terrible right out the gate.

Hoffman has the attitude of someone who's like,, super chill about that kind of thing! again, queer himself (you cannot tell me that he and strahm were not fucking on the DL. I refuse to believe otherwise) and very understanding about how difficult coming out can be.

He asks you what your preferred name and pronouns are and takes to them fairly quickly! He messes up like, once?? twice maybe before he's like "I need to practice using the name and pronouns because fucking it up is not needed--dysphoria seems like it sucks and I don't want him to be dysphoric because of me." so then he practices it mentally while he's working and kind of like,, under his breath while he sets traps up and has it down within that week.

Also gets you a checkerboard cake that has three layers and has the trans flag colors because he feels bad about the times he messed your pronouns up. You absolutely devoured that cake after a really tough day and it was delicious (he got strahm to bake it because as much as I love him, I do not think he could bake a cake without burning it)

All in all, their reactions are different but they do love you and they make sure that you know that.

[stobinesque]

WIP Wednesday!

Tagged by @eriquin and @steves-strapcollection, thank you!!

THE RULES

In a reblog (or new post w/ rules attached), post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to post!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can’t share from (for example, an event fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post. If you tag me in your post, I will send you an ask request!

THE WIPS

Jeff is Steve's Bi Awakening AU (fwiw I already have two of these sitting in my inbox from a couple weeks ago)

wigwag [Steve's Big Gay Sex Adventure]

Wayfinder [S4 Fix-it, Lucas POV]

phryctoria bonus chapter 7 (marginalia and annotations of How To Have Sex in an Epidemic)

THE (no pressure) TAGS

@devondespresso @starryeyedjanai @xenon-demon @inairbinad @hellsfireclub @delta-piscium @steddielations @thefreakandthehair @skjachukson @steventhusiast -- and anyone else who wants to participate!

THE SNIPPET

uhhhh, I'm pretty sure most of the writing I've done in the past 7 days has already been shared in various asks (or my steddie microfic), so have a sneak peek at chapter 5 of phryctoria, which I spent a good chunk of today revising.

Robin yawns again, stretching her arms high above her head. “Absolutely worth it,” she says, sounding a bit smug.

Steve shakes his head, but can’t bite back the smile she brings to his face. He clicks back into a conscious awareness of their surroundings, and realizes they’re passing by Weathertop. (Try as he might to deny it, the kids’ names for locations around Hawkins have fixed themselves in his mind.) He pulls off and parks the beamer on the side of the road, circling around the front to pull Robin out of the passenger seat. “C’mon, Bobbin, we’ve got a hill to climb.”

Halfway up, Robin turns to him and starts flapping a hand against his chest. “Hey, hey! How’s that song go? The hills are alive, dah-da-dah daaah dah, you know?”

Steve smirks. “Aren’t your ears supposed to be little geniuses? Robs, the next lines are literally the title of the movie.”

“Pretty sure it was a musical first.”

“This does not actually help your case, you know that, right?”

“Whatever, dingus. Just tell me how the song goes.”

“You sure you wanna hear me sing?”

“Okay, you’ll notice how I didn’t say ‘sing how it goes for me,’ you could just tell me the words.”

“No, no, now you’re going to be subjected to the musical stylings of the Harrington family singers, because,” Steve leans into her space and starts singing, sickly sweet, “My heart wants to sing every soooong it hears.” His head is almost fully resting against Robin’s shoulder as he looks up at her with a shit eating grin.

“Oh, my god, get off me,” she says, shoving at him while she laughs.

He lets himself be pushed away, taking a couple of dramatic, stumbling steps away from her before righting himself and drifting back into her space. “You know the next lines have always been my favorite though?”

“Do you have the whole song memorized?!”

“...yeah?” Steve frowns at her. “Robs, it’s one of my favorite movies! I thought that’s why you asked!”

Robin shakes her head, looking at him a little dumbstruck. “Nope, I’m pretty sure I would have remembered that little Harrington factoid.”

“Well…yeah. My mom really loved it, so I guess I just watched it a lot growing up? Especially when my dad was out of town—before she started going on the trips with him—because then we could sing along.”

Robin opens her mouth to say something, before seeming to make the conscious decision not to approach the whole ‘you couldn’t sing along to the movie about not being allowed to sing?’ thing with a ten foot pole, and snapping her mouth shut again. “Huh.” She takes a couple more striding steps forward with a pensive look on her face. “So...how does the next part go?”

He smiles at her, and even without being able to see his own face he can tell that it’s radiant. “My heart…wants to beat like the wings of the birds that rise from the lake to the trees.” He looks at her, and he can feel the way his gaze has become just a little too intense.

“Birds, huh?” She knocks his shoulder with her own, a gentle smile on her face. “Yep. Always loved ‘em,” he says, his heart feeling a little gooey in his chest.

[pftones3482]

Hi, I just want to say that I've been feeling really ill today, and reading your pnf fanfics is what got me through the day! (I literally went through your entire anthology on ao3, even the oneshot collection 😅😅)

I absolutely love the way you write perry and candace especially, since they're my favourite characters. I could've literally read a novel about the human perry one, probably because I'm a sucker for identity angst (the body swap ep is my favourite for this reason!)

Anyway, I just thought I'd let you know how much I love your fics! The way you write their family dynamic is perfect, I wish there were more fics like yours. I follow you on here but I've been too scared to interact with you apart from liking your posts, so here's an ask I guess!

Thanks again for the amazing fics 💜💜

This has been sitting in my inbox for a couple days now cause it's just super sweet and I wanted to keep looking at it. I hope you're feeling better, and I'm really really happy you enjoyed my writing!

I definitely want to fiddle around a little more with the My Best Friend's Platypus universe because it was super fun to write, I've just been in a tiny bit of a slump the last two weeks or so. But I'm progressing through a few other fics slowly but surely, so keep your eye out for those!

Also I'm like one of the least scary people, I promise, I love when people interact with me <3

[the-teddy-bear-butch]

hey Пчёлка! (sorry for the unoriginality but it's literally 3am 😅)

IT SNOWED TODAY!!!! not a lot but i'm still excited :D

I gotta answer the favourite ice cream flavour question from the ask game first because I've found out something very interesting.

Ok so i'm about to say something very weird and apparently very Canadian, but my favourite ice cream flavour is tiger tail(tiger tiger, tiger, tiger stripe. I've seen many variations) ANYway this is gonna sound like a weird combo if you haven't tried it but it's basically orange ice cream with black licorice ice cream swirled throughout it (weird ik) but while I was looking up the actual proper name of the ice cream I found out it's a Canadian only thing, not only that but it's a regional flavour so only certain parts of Canada has it???

anyway I fell down a loop hole and now need to know what you call the metal shopping carts at the store, knitted caps that you wear during winter, and also what do you call you 1 dollar coins? (buggy, tuque, and loonie for me)

November kinda sucked but it's the last week (were'd all the time go?) I started a new job this week which is really exciting

DUDE I WAS JUST ABOUT TO START PRIORY OT THE ORANGE TREE! it's been sitting on my bookshelf for way too long

I finally seen legally blonde and it was sooooo good, I watched in with a group so i'll probably need to re-watch it later, oh well ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

IT isn't actually that scary unless you don't like clowns, in which case it might not be your piece of cake

man weather is so weird. one time at the end of august I remember it started to snow while we were driving home not for very long but still strange. I had you use the converter thingy to understand 70°F but 21°C IS UNREASONABLE FOR FALL! THAT SOUNDS TERRIBLE. Right now its -1°C with the low for tomorrow(today now) at -13°C which i'm kinda dreading.

it's not really important but I did want to say when I started talking to you I was using she/they(i think i was?) but now i'm using they/them so that's cool I guess 👍

regale me with your random LOTR facts I only knew 2 of the last facts so if you have more i'd love to hear them!

I also liked to mix up spices when cooking as a kid. Most of the time it didn't work well but one time I found out that if you're making a sweet carrot cake (or cakes like that) and you're making cream cheese frosting, adding a bit of garam masala to the frosting adds a bit of a kick and cuts the sweetness in a non overpowering way!

i'm so glad I can further continue my 'everyone I talk to must listen to alvvays' agenda. I don't think I have a favourite song on the album but I do love Pressed and Belinda Says. Also turns out that Blue Rev is a Canadian only drink made Ontario.

y'know what's homophobic to me specifically? Both my favourite bands have only 1 show here and it's in Toronto (very far from me) IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER. Toronto winters aren't particularly nice.

Music thoughts from the last couple of days are really old french songs (the classics from like Lucienne Boyer and Edith Piaf, that kind of music) they all kinda remind me of the comforting orange of street lamps in the dark and drawing before going to bed

signed someone who's literally so close to falling asleep

-el

IM SO SORRY MY INBOX INTIMIDATES ME AND SOMETIMES I JUST IGNORE IT

Hello my darlin’ El!! My favorite Canadian! My favorite anon!

Nothing to apologize for, my dear. That nickname is probably my favorite ever, I’ll never get tired of it

SNOW, that’s so cool!!! We actually got a little bit here in the last couple weeks too! Barely any, but something!! Just a ✨dusting✨

Okay so that sounds so strange and I HAVE to try it. If I ever visit Canada, I am searching this out 👀 Idk if it’s regional, but we have a snow cone flavor called tiger’s blood! It’s kind of like a fruit punch sort of flavor. I was more of a cotton candy kid. Or the weirdo who got banana flavor

Regional dialects are so fucking cool!!! For us, it’s shopping cart, beanie, and penny!idk what it is but tuque is just such a fun word. Very pleasing to say, feels nice, idk. Maybe I’m just a weirdo LMAO. I’m trying to think of some of the weirder regional words, but my brain is so empty right now.

Oh congrats on the new job!!! How is it going?? I’m sorry your November was rough, I hope December treated you more kindly! It’s been a rollercoaster for me, but I have a feeling 2023 will be a good year for me. I’m being stubbornly optimistic 🫡

Speaking of!!! Happy new year! Do you have any resolutions??

Did you start Priory? If you have, what do you think?? It’s high on my list, but I recently got One Last Stop and Gideon the Ninth, so I bumped it down. I’ve GOT to read OLS so I can read the Ronance au, and Gideon the Ninth is just,,, lesbian necromancers in space and I’ve been obsessed with it despite not reading it ever

Oklahoma weather my beloathed! She’s a wicked she-devil!! We’ve gone from a pleasant 21°C to -29°C wind chills in the span of a week!! I love it soooooooo much!!! (Kill me please.) I hope your weather has been tamer and you’re staying warm up north!!

Oh that’s so cool dude!! Good to know!! I’ll make sure I remember <33 They/them pronouns kinda hit different man. I’ve swapped mine officially from she/they to they/she. Not a huge difference but something in my chest feels so much lighter with they 🥰 Gender fuckery is fun

More silly LOTR facts, eh? Well, J*ke G*llenhall auditioned for the role of Frodo Baggins! Supposedly it was one of the worst auditions! Christopher Lee, Saruman, is the only actor to have met JRR Tolkien himself! Believe it or not, Nicolas Cage was the original pick to play Aragorn! I still think Viggo Mortensen is one of the best casting choices of all time tho, sorry Nick

Oh I’ve never heard of that! I’m writing it down for future baking purposes 🫡 I have recently discovered that garlic powder and onion powder are my best friends and I will put that shit on everything

Incredible choices! I need to give the album another listen. Maybe I can Ronanceify a song in your honor <33

That’s terrible!!! I am so very sorry <33 I get the feeling man, even a lot of US tours just,,, skip over Oklahoma. I’m sooooooooo bitter about Noah Kahan not stopping by somewhere I can see him. The closest show is a state away, 4 hour drive with current gas and hotel prices? YIKES. But! I got Paramore tickets and I WILL lose my entire shit that day

Definitely will check those out! Personal music thoughts for me,, still obsessing over the entire Stick Season album, but The View Between Villages especially. Been really into the hot gay girl shit/lesbian villain arc kind of genre. Devil Is A Woman by Cloudy June? Incredible

With warmth and sincere apologies for the weight,

- Max/Lo

[shiningstages]

@jardinae - 🌻 speak thy mind freely .

new ask game send me a 🌻 and ill just tell you whatever the fuck i want

this ask has been sitting in my inbox for forever...........still don't know exactly what i want to ramble about though.

ummmmm retail sucks. working in it, i mean. i'm definitely in the camp of "be nice to your retail workers" / "if you think retail is so easy why don't you work in it?", just because the customers i deal with are either super understanding or sweet, or super negative / haughty / full-of-themselves when i'm helping them. it helps that i act how i want ( very cute~ ) unless you get me mad, but i've also gained a sort of confidence and seriousness from working in retail? but i'm also just done with it and am so sleepy vfggfgchfcfchnc

also i wanna write here!!!!!!!! so bad!!!!!!!!! but because of work the energy has been nonexistent, especially since i work in the later hours nowadays, and that just drains me even more since i'm a night owl and wanna like. do things. at night. so i stay up until 2am when i get home around 11pm from an 8/9 hour shift. and get more sleepy. (when i start school again dude i swear......25 hours a week max; i need more days to myself)

back to writing, i haven't forgotten about........some of the ideas i've had hjgfhghgkhgjh i'm gonna make that atlas gbf oc!!!!!! that's like at the forefront of my mind, but going through replicard sandbox (for the first time hehe) i'm like "...........should i make this guy like an opposite of The World (says girl who hasn't even finished the story in arcacum however it's spelled aaaaa)" because that Would be funny. but then i'm also like "if i made this guy At All, it would be at least a little bit of world building importance in him, and that energy is Not present" because it's atlas........we all remember the tale of atlas yes? maybe????? (has to look it up again)

ANYWAYS i also wanna make a starter call at some point. i have a lot i need to get done outside of here and work (get AC in car fixed, get a couple tires replaced Eventually, same thing with the battery, get my transfers / application for other university done (most important to me rn), get my hair cut (will probably happen first), do all my laundry / do a closet cleanout Again, clean the rest of my room, etc.) BUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i wanna be here because it's fun and nice and calm here ggjhgjfhgfghfjcf calm for me anyways!!!!!! tumblr is...........tumblr, as we all know, but i've gotten a lot of memories and joy out of it, and i wanna write and be here!!!!!!!!! so i'm gonna look at my drafts, see what i can do there when i have time......then starter call / i'll just run headfirst into someone's askbox hfhfgcghfjgghcfg

ALSO TO END OFF AS I WAS WRITING A WASP GOT IN THE KITCHEN AND I FREAKED but i was gonna try and be brave and kill it because my dad's on a call, AND THEN MY DAD KILLED IT FOR ME WHILE HE WAS ON A CALL; WHAT A HERO!!!!!!!!!!! okay that's it; now i have to get dressed for work fggfdfghjghgcvjg

[meltwonu]

25. “What did you just say?”

notes; sugar-daddy!mingyu, sugar-baby!reader, dom!mingyu, but also lowkey mafia!gyu, dirty talk, degradation, blow jobs, hair pulling, mentions of violence. YOWWW only one more installation of the sugar daddy cycle before we move onto the next! ✨ And I’ve already decided what it’ll be~~~ heheheh~~🥴😈 also next week, I’m going to take Monday and maybe Wednesday to update my masterlists and catch up to inbox msgs so I won’t be starting the next cycle until after then! 😮‍💨🙏  My masterlists haven’t been updated since nov so I think it’s time lol. Anyway, as always, thank you soo much for requesting! Enjoy! ❤️‍🔥💕

*queued post.

Mingyu shows up at your small apartment with multiple cuts and bruises - something that you were, unfortunately, used to by now.

“I swear, why do you do this… Can’t you handle business like a normal CEO...” You mutter, mostly to yourself than him as he scoffs under his breath.

“Hey, it’s not my fault those guys try to scam me out of millions. I thought I could trust Jeonghan in a business setting but I can’t even do that. Got my ass shot over some bullshit.”

You purse your lips as you tend to his wounds; glad that most of them were superficial and that he wasn’t severely hurt.

“W–why’d you come here though? Why my apartment and not your penthouse? Wouldn’t that have been b-better than my tiny place?”

His sultry eyes meet your own that are already swimming in lust and Mingyu knows exactly the effect he has on you when he smirks.

“Why not? I could bandage myself up but I like it when you do it. Almost makes us feel… domestic.” He licks his lips watching you gulp – bingo.

“Y-you wouldn’t be paying me for my time if we were a couple…” You mutter.

“What did you just say?”

“W-what? Nothing. I just said you like fucking me after, is all.”

Mingyu grins, canines showing when he starts to push you down onto your knees after you finish wrapping his torso.

“You’re right, I do. And so do you, right, babygirl?”

Mingyu sits on the edge of your bed – torso covered in bandages as you kneel in front of him.

“God, you’re so fucking cute like this. On your knees, choking my cock, and pleasuring me like the good ‘lil cocksleeve you are for me.”

You moan around his length; eyelashes wet with tears with how much he fills your mouth and slides down your throat each time you bob your head and work more and more of him inside.

“Bet that ‘lil cunt of yours is so wet, isn’t it? Just ready to take my cock~”

Whimpering, you try to rub your thighs together to alleviate some of the tension that was building up in your body.

This was typical of Mingyu.

He would find new business partners and then find himself having to ‘deal with them’ outside of normal business settings. Then he would find himself under your care as you tended to his wounds before he fucked you into the bedsheets and took his frustrations out until the two of you were tired.

“I wanna cum down your throat first, though. I think I deserve that much, don’t you? I’ve had such a hard day~”

He laughs mockingly as you swallow around him; eyes crossing as you watch his cock thrust in and out of your mouth.

His fingertips tangle into your hair, tugging harshly until you wince and mewl around his length.

“Mmngh…”

“Be a good girl and relax your throat for me~”

Mingyu tightens his grip on your hair just before he starts to thrust up into your mouth — fucking your face and using your mouth to his liking as he chases his pleasure.

“Mmnh, fuck… You wanna know what really pissed me off about Jeonghan, babygirl? Even more so than he trying to scam me?”

You gag and sputter around his cock in response.

“He asked me about you. Said you got even prettier lately and asked what you were up to.”

He growls, cock throbbing as the waves of pleasure start to wash over his tense body.

“Maybe it was my fault I drew my gun first, huh?”

You let out a clipped whine just as Mingyu starts to cum — rivulets of the sticky substance sliding down your throat as you do your best to swallow it all down.

Some of it manages to escape your lips; the warm cum dripping down onto the floor and onto your lap as you work him through his high.

“Ah, shit, looks like my bandages came undone, babygirl~ Guess we’ll have to start from the top again, huh?”

[bubblyhoney]

can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk

places i used to go

warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

words: 2191

A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd

inbox/requests: open

-

The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.

“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.

“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.

“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.

“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”

You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.

You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.

“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”

“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.

“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.

The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.

“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.

“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.

“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.

“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.

“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.

“Are you—?”

“What?” You reply right back.

“Nothing.”

Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.

“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.

“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”

You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.

“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.

“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.

The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.

“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.

“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”

“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”

“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.

Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.

Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.

“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.

“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.

You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.

“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.

“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.

“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.

The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.

“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.

You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.

“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”

You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”

He just smirks.

“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”

“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”

He just shrugs and continues down the side street.

“Is this the park you were talking about?”

He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.

“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.

“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”

“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”

It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.

“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.

“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.

You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.

“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.

“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.

You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.

“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.

You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.

You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.

-

A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think

[ithebookhoarder]

Hi so I just read your coming out to the Avengers as bi fic and IT WAS AMAZING

So I was wondering if you could write something along the lines of dating Maria now but coming out to her as asexual. That would be amazing, if not no worries.

Coming out as Asexual (Maria Hill x Reader)

A/N: Ok. So. I am sooooooo sorry for how long this ask has been sitting in my inbox, but as it's Ace Week, it seemed an apt time to write it! I'm also honoured you asked. Sending love to my Ace pals and peoples.

Thanks so much for your comments - you're so sweet @nyx-aira. Hope you like it.

Masterlist:

----

Now, first off, considering the crazy things Maria has had to deal with in her time at SHIELD, your coming out to her as Asexual is not a big deal.

Well, it’s a big deal to her in that you obviously feel comfortable enough around her to tell her something so personal.

That’s huge and makes her heart go all fluttery.

But a big deal that causes her to have a melt down and possibly an hour of shooting things? This is not that kind.

After all, alien invaders? Big deal. Dancing, sentient, alien trees? Big deal. Fury without coffee before a meeting with the Avengers? Big deal.

They’re all things Maria doesn’t immediately know how to handle, but you? Your relationship? Nothing in her eyes has changed.

She loves you. She respects you. She understands you.

This is just another part of who you are, and that means Maria accepts it with a mere nod, hum, and possibly a couple quick questions for clarification.

As she teases, she’s an agent and works best with as much intelligence as possible. Or as much as you’re willing to share.

And anything else? Well, she’s happy to do some of her own intelligence gathering too if it will make you feel comfortable and happy.

Apparently SHIELD has some weird databases that she can find her way into …

Why? Well, because you make her feel those things. Happy. Comfortable. Safe.

That’s why she loves you so much.

You also put up with her crazy schedules with barely a moan, which makes you a saint.

You’re also the first to nag her to remember to pack a toothbrush and sunscreen whenever she has to rush off somewhere for a mission.

“But it’s Siberia?”

“There’s sun in Siberia, dumb ass. Snow reflects it more intensely - You’ll still burn if you’re not careful!”

“I’m always careful!”

“Says the idiot who almost walked into a door this morning!”

Maria refrains from pointing out you’d distracted her and almost caused said incident, but anyway…

Once you’ve also told her, she then follows it up with a reassurance that she’ll love you no matter what, and definitely no matter what level of physical intimacy you’re comfortable with.

If holding hands is your limit, that’s cool. If you like cuddling, kissing, or maybe other activities then she can accommodate that too.

To be honest, Maria herself is not the most affectionate of people. Not in public anyway. So, she gets it. Boundaries are important.

(Most people at work don’t even think they’ve seen her smile… there’s just some rumours amongst the more senior agents that it’s even possible)

That makes you very giddy, knowing you’re the only one to see her like that at all.

Even then, when it’s the two of you she seems more keen on holding hands or pressing kisses against your head or cheek, than trying to undress you.

It might take a bit of communication and adjustment but at the end of the day you’re both willing to put the effort in.

Maria would also be quick to shut down any comments or jokes by the others that made you uncomfortable (mostly from Tony, but that’s just his nature. He’s not trying to be mean - 90% of his jokes are somehow sexual)

Your relationship is private and she’ll keep it that way.

But if you are comfortable telling people? Then hell, she’ll support that too.

She’ll also threaten to shoot anyone who even thinks about making comments about asexuality not being a thing.

“It’s LGBTQIA+, asshole. Yeah. That’s right. A for Asexual, not assholes like you.”

Long story short, you coming out is probably one of the best things to happen to your relationship - but getting to see Maria wearing an Asexual pride flag at Pride is just a very good benefit.