#I love sharing my thoughts about stuff like this to anyone who's interested in hearing them lol

[subby-muffin]

I think the best thing about me is that I both do and don’t have a type.

Like I have so many types that it basically doesn’t mean anything anymore.

(That’s what happens when your demisexual/romantic and therefore everyone is kinda the same to me until I’m attracted to them… that is to say I’ll think you’re really cool and love platonically until the moment my brain decides I like you more than that)

[swan-of-sunrise]

OK but out of all the characters why do you think they chose Peggy - dresses in her ICONIC Agent Carter outfit for that little promo?

I actually have a little theory about it that I spent a half an hour ranting about to my mom, so thank you for giving me a chance to unleash it upon all of my beautiful followers!

Okay, so the announcement said that Rogers: The Musical would be a one-act production and because of CAL-OSHA regulations, the Hyperion Theatre in DCA cannot show anything longer than an hour. That means they'll have less than an hour to put on a show about Steve’s life, so I predict that they'll split the show into two parts: the 1940s and 2012.

It'll start with Steve receiving the serum/becoming Captain America and fast-track the events of The First Avenger with a musical number (similar to how Hamilton presents battles and passages of time through song); this is where I predict Peggy will have a thematically significant number, which is why I think they made the purposeful decision to use her in the marketing. The halfway point will have Steve being frozen and waking up in 2012, and I have a feeling that the second half of the show will be about him adapting to his new life/fast-tracking the events of The Avengers, culminating in the show-stopping finale "Save The City". (I have a hunch that Peggy might appear in this half of the show as some sort of figment of Steve’s imagination, perhaps as a visual representation of his inability to let go of his past).

I don't think that they'll show any events past the ending of the first Avengers film because anything after that is too convoluted to squeeze into an hour-long show/too many new characters would need to be introduced and "Save The City" is the only song that the audience is already familiar with, so they'll wanna end the show on the highest note possible. If anything, they might have a reprise of an earlier number with Steve and Peggy, where he acknowledges that he's where he needs to be and says goodbye to her (idk if they even wanna get into Peggy still being alive in 2012 or not lol).

This might be me being crazy or way too desperate for more Peggy Carter representation lol but I've got a gut-feeling that they didn't use Peggy in the marketing for nothing. Buena Vista Street and its surrounding area is modeled after 1920s Los Angeles, so the marketing team might’ve just thought "Well, Peggy Carter was in Los Angeles in 1947, wouldn't it be cute if we used her in the marketing?" but conversely, why didn't they have Clint and Kate there instead, since the musical was first depicted in their show? Definitely take all of this with a grain on salt, I'm just a Disney nerd with a degree in Performing Arts and History, but I definitely think that Peggy's inclusion was purposeful! 💖

[tinyfantasminha]

I don't want to keep clogging my blog with vent posts but uh... I guess this is a more general concern/observation

But it's getting real hard to stay motivated in fandom spaces when there's little compensation, and annoying occurrences are more frequent than good ones.

Mainly there's been less engagement/people showing interest in creators and their art (such as sending asks, making comments and reblogging with tags) and MORE parasocial interactions. This goes for both artists and writers.

Over this year I've noticed a vast disinterest within my public in general. Asks about ocs, my art, or just nice simple comments of ''I love your art'' has been getting more and more scarce. My follower number is bigger than 2-3 years ago sure and I get more likes on my posts but they are feeling more like just numbers and statistics than actual people who supposedly like my stuff.

And while people being parasocial with creators has always been a thing, I feel like it's gotten way worse... in general? People sending personal pictures out of the blue in hopes of being validated, unwanted psychological advice or assumptions about the creator without any established connection first ( <- these happened to me in the same week.) ventdump, just insensitive/lacking of common sense comments in general, unreasonable demands (mostly with writers)... I wondered at first if it was just me, but a handful of mutuals/acquaintances who are artists and writers seems to be going through it as well.

It's annoying. It's tough. It's getting exhausting. Creators pour so much of themselves into their work—countless hours, effort, and passion, all to share something meaningful or entertaining with others (and for FREE) The LEAST anyone can do is show respect, even if opinions differ. When a writer posts a fanfic, don't just say ''omg post next chapter!'', when an artist posts a drawing of their favorite character, don't just say ''omg draw (character) next!'' as if they're faceless content machines that are expected to churn out more '''content''' for you without acknowledgment, encouragement, or appreciation.

''I want to support creators but I don't know what to say and I feel intimidated by their talent so I just lurk silently :((('' I swear to you, no creator (at least not the majority) is making up an intimidating persona to discourage you from interacting with them. They WANT your comments. A single ''I love your art/writing/videos'' or even something as silly as ''I want to eat your art'' is enough to keep a creator sighing dreamily for WEEKS. It doesn't have to be deep! It's heartfelt and that's what it matters!! (Just remember to keep it relevant and thoughtful... It takes just a bit of common sense NOT to comment things like ''this looks like (another character)'' or ''this but with (another unrelated ship/character/show)''. No one wants to hear comparisons or unrelated ideas when they’ve poured their soul into something.)

In fact, the ''I like your art but I think you're intimidating'' feels more hurtful than flattering. It makes me feel like I'm doing something wrong, acting wrong. 💀

If you love that fanfic that changed your brain psyche forever and want to gush about it, go tell the writer. If you loved so much a piece of art that you saved it a million times in your phone and can't stop thinking about it, go tell the artist. Push away the ''they probably won't care about my comment/it won't make a difference'' thoughts. DO IT NOW. You won't know when they might go inactive forever or deactivate. You can't know if that is the last piece they will ever post. Make sure you show appreciation to creators NOW, while they are still here. While they're still not being replaced by AI.

[kavlitzlver]

2007 tom and f!reader go to the same school blah blah blah and then they do it in a classroom when the classes are over OR hcs about how they go to the same school both sfw and nsfw thank u

OKAY I LOVE THIS IDEA i can work with this, just hope you like it <33

be quiet.

Tom Kaulitz x Fem!reader

summary: You and Tom go to the same school together and secretly have been friends with benefits for quite some time now, neither of your other band members or anyone else at school knows, but seeing each other in school all the time and not fuck is harder than you both thought….

warnings : rough sex, p in v sex, fingering, oral sex

——————————————————

I feel his hand on my lap, slowly moving towards my inner thigh, his thumb stroking the soft skin of my legs that peeked through the tight black skirt I was wearing. “Tom..” I mumble as i nudge him, he grinned at my widened eyes as i scanned the room for any curious looks from our classmates, scared that someone might notice. It was so weird that no one noticed the looks Tom and I gave each other recently, how we behaved less like best friends but more like a couple, I feel like he didn’t even notice it himself. We’ve been sleeping with each other for a few months now, one day he’s my best friend and we’re goofing around like always, the next his hand is wrapped around my neck while he’s deep inside me. It was confusing.

“Been too long y/n….need you” he whispered into my ear, causing a shiver to run down my spine, those words alone were enough to just take him right here and there, to send me over the edge in the middle of class.

“After school ‘kay?” I take his hand and place it back down on the table, nudging him in the shoulder “We’re in the middle of-“

“Y/n. Might wanna share what you and Tom are talking about? Sounds interesting” the teacher interrupted us, making me flinch away from him, I shook my head and focussed back on the lesson. I saw Bill turning around to us and giving me a silly look, I knew that he knew something was going on, it was Bill, he sensed those things. “After school at my place.” I say to Tom, not even looking at him when I felt his hand back on my thigh, he was so needy, so horny, all the damn time, I cross my legs, automatically making it impossible for him to arouse me, I could hear his sigh as he tried to focus back on the lesson.

—————————————————

Math class was over, I started packing up my stuff and was about to leave the room when I felt a tight grip around my waist. “Wait a sec.” Tom smirked, pulling me back to our seats, “Lets skip Biology hm?” he had that lustful grin on his face, his hands tightened, his tongue playing with his lip ring, I couldn’t say no, not to this look, not to him staring me up and down like that. “Can’t wait till after school..”

“You guys coming?” Bill stopped mid way, looking at us with crossed arms and raised eyebrows, i clear my throat. “Go ahead, we skip” Tom responded in a confident voice, knowing Bill would never skip a class in the last week of school. Bill nodded disappointedly, heading outside the classroom with Georg and Gustav, who looked just as confused.

I watched as Tom walked to the entry of the room, closing the door and locking it after making sure no one had seen us. I was taking off my jacket when I felt his two warm hands on my waist, his fingers digging into my soft skin, pulling me back in a swift motion, he presses me close to him, showing me how hard he is as he started kissing my neck. I was tense, unsure if that was really a good idea, wouldn’t we get in huge trouble when someone catches us?

“Tom I-“ he turns me around in a quick motion, my words being interrupted by a rough kiss, his hands wandered down to my thighs, gripping my legs and lifting me up on one of the tables. “You look so good in that skirt…so fucking good” his raspy whisper send shivers down my spine, he groaned into my neck as he grinded against my core through the soft material of my skirt. I let myself fall into the moment, shaking off every concern I had when I found my way into his jeans, unbuttoning them with the other and taking out the belt through the loops in a rough motion, throwing it somewhere on the floor.

The grin on his face as I started to slowly run my fingers along his length was unbearable, the way his eyes turned so lustful, he was making me insane, I get a hold onto his cock and start moving my hand back and forth, causing his grin to turn into a gasp, his head leaned back.

I take his pants off, letting them pool at his feet when I get off the table and down on my knees, my hands placed on his waist, my tongue liking the tip before I almost swallow him whole, the room now filled with his groans as he grabbed my hair into a ponytail. His moans like music to my ears, a grin formed on my face as I saw the pleasure I caused him. “Fuck…..”

“Get up….need to hurry baby” I shivered when he called me that, he never did before, I do as he said and sat back down on the table, i didn’t even bother taking of my skirt when Toms finger already played with the thin material of my panties, pulling them to the side and entering his middle finger into me in a swift motion, leaving me a moaning mess. He curled his finger just the right way to hit my g spot, his dreads falling into my face as he sucked on the soft skin of my neck, leaving marks just as always.

“Tom we need to hurry…” Moans cut off my speech, he nodded and exited my core, a gasp leaving my mouth as he licked my juices off his finger, positioning himself before my entrance. He entered me roughly, his hands on my waist as he pushed into me hard, not even stopping so I could adjust. “just like that..” he groaned, digging his fingers into my flesh. He quickened his pace even more, mouth open as he moaned in pleasure, his heartbeat racing just as mine as he kissed me roughly, his tongue intertwining with mine. I broke the kiss as i couldn’t contain my whimpers, sensing that i’m close to reaching my peak, “gonna cum..”

“I’m not done.” he grabbed me by my neck with one hand, the other now found a way under my skirt, his thumb circling around my clit when my legs began to tense, a satisfied smirk resting on his face as he witnessed the effect he had on me. My eyes were shut, mouth open as one moan escaped after the other when suddenly we heard someone trying to open the door.

Tom stayed inside me, but slowed down his movements as he continued to move in and out, his hand now roughly placed on my mouth to stop me from moaning. It seemed like whoever wanted to enter was now gone and Tom quickened up his pace again, rubbing my clit with his thumb and buttoning me completely until I was a moaning mess and reached my high. Tom was near the end too when his movements became sloppier and he finally released himself.

“Good girl…so…so good” he mumbled as our foreheads touched, “mhm…” i nod trying to catch my breath. I watched as Tom put his pants back on, handing me a paper towel to clean myself up before he kissed my neck one last time. He brushed my hair behind my back when a grin appeared on his face “hickeys look good on you.” I slapped him on the shoulder, my hand immediately on my neck when I ran to the mirror in the front of the classroom.

“I told you to stop doing that”

He opened the classroom door, completely ignoring my complain, “let’s go…before someone sees us”

——————————————————

Tom and I waited outside the school for the rest, seeing Bill, Georg and Gustav walk out the door, laughing about something.

“You guys wouldn’t believe what Sophie heard in one of the classrooms-“ I looked at Gustav with raised eyebrows, “Two people were having sex in the last lesson!” Georg continued where Gustav started, laughing his ass off just like the rest when Tom gave me a playful look, smirking at me. I faked my reaction, gasping when I kicked Tom in the chest.

“What?! Who would do that?!”

“Someone like Tom would…” Bill winked at his twin, I was right, he definitely knew.

[heartfullofleeches]

Ride or Die

Yan 🌽star + Stoner Reader

Summary: After a deal gone wrong, you text your roommate for help.

[Mentions of Weed]

-

Thursdays are pizza night.

It isn't much in the grander scheme of things, but to Brie it is the domesticity of the relationship blossoming between you. Not exactly just friends, yet still barely pushing the limits of the platonic bond you already shared before moving in. You've kissed him before, allowed him to sleep in your bed- Then again, the "kiss" was a conducting force for a mouthful of smoke you gave fair warning for him to prepare himself for; the night in your room being the outcome of him spitting up a lung moments later.

Brie didn't know what to do anymore.. Continue this little game of cat and mouse, praying somewhere deep down you feel the same way about him. Or move onto someone else, never able to give them the entirety of his heart because he knows a part of it will always belong to you.

"Why can't I cry anywhere else but the produce isle!" Brie bitterly whispers to himself as he swabs the corners of his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater. Your sweater to be more precise. He'd rather not have a repeat of last week- That sweet lady was only trying to console him, but his face gets red as the tomatoes he used for his sauce crying over what may never be.

Whatever.

As far as Brie was aware, you didn't have a partner nor anyone you were really interested in, and you practically told each other everything. Maybe somewhere along the line, he could find happiness in this in-between stage in your relationship. Even if you weren't his partner, he still had you as a shoulder to cry on and the best roommate he could ask for.

"Get over yourself, Brie- You're going to make them the greasts pizza they've ever had, and if they haven't already fallen in love with you - they'll met someone who's a shitty cook and realize what they're missing!"

Isn't that the dream? These days, it feels like you're the only thought on his mind. He can hear your voice now.

"Brie? Brieeeee~ Pick up or I'll use your full government. Heh, you know I'm messing with you. But, seriously, pick up."

Oh. That's... your ringtone. The message was one of the first voicemails you left him when he purchased a new phone. He's missed plenty of calls from you hearing it out to completion.

"You rang, babe?"

That got a good chuckle out of you the first time. It was a total blunder on Brie's end, but you insisted he keep the nickname if he wanted to. There's no jovial air coming from your end of the line. Not even a snicker as your voice picks up over the silence.

"I need your help."

Never in your years long friendship had he heard you sound so serious before. There were glimpses - swiftly desected by your infections laughter or the change of topic, but never like this.

"I'm, I'm on my way." Brie switches his phone over to his left ear, propping it up with his shoulder. "What's wrong? Are you sick? Did you hurt yourself?"

"I think I killed a guy."

The line goes dead.

Brie gazes upwards at the tiled ceiling, phone slipping from his grasp as his thumb hoovers where the end call button once was. He regains his grip on the device as a text message comes in.

Its a picture of the body. Sprawled out with their arms and legs angled in different directions.

He can't catch his breath. Brie has always tried to drill it into your thick skull he'd do anything for you no matter what - and he meant it. Taking someone's life... It's unforgivable in most people's eyes. Especially the law's. If you got caught. If he lost you- What would that mean for him? The future you had together?

Racing through the aisles like a chicken without its head, Brie makes several stops on his way to the cash register. Cleaning, household goods, cutlery. He grabs items as soon as they're checked out and stuffs them into his backpack as he pays, evading his ritual of fishing through his wallet for the exact cash and change.

Brie isn't crazy enough to run red lights. He does, however, forget his seatbeat as he floors his car home; flying just beneath the legal speed limit for the area. He speeds up the tiny flight of stares leading to your apartment - bursting through the already unlocked front door.

"Babe! Baby, in here- I brought bleach, and trash bags, and- and.... These knives should be sharp enough to cut up their limbs- We can even move closer to my parents if we have to!"

Tripping over his own words and feet, Brie dumps the the contents of his backpack on the living room floor. It's then he notices how clean the floor actually is. No blood stains, no evidence of a fight. His eyes search the room, falling upon you in an unbothered state - seated on the couch next to a shivering man nervously sipping from a glass of water.

"Brie!" Standing, you make short work of the distance between you as you swarm Brie with a firm hug. "Missed you, pretty boy. You're back a little sooner than I expected not gonna lie."

Adrenaline depleting, Brie points over your shoulder at the stranger. "I thought he was..."

"He? Oh, right!- Brie, this is Nicky. Nicky, this is Brie. He came to buy some of my stash since his med card just expired and he doesn't like buying full price. Normally I would've done it elsewhere since I don't want to bring strangers into your space, but he's heading out of town once he leaves.... If he still can."

Nicky offers a timid wave to Brie, placing his cup down seconds before collapsing on the couch.

"Don't worry, he should be fine after a little nap."

Air flows freely through Brie's lungs as he clings onto you. You aren't a murderer. There isn't anything jeopardizing things between you- besides himself.

"You're such a jerk."

Pulling away from your embrace, Brie was torn between slapping or kissing you as you grin back at him. "What? Didn't actually think I killed the guy, did you?"

"Yes?! Because of your little prank I wasn't able to get everything I needed for dinner! I was ready to throw my entire life away for you! And it's all just a big joke to you!"

"Thanks, Brie."

Tension building behind his eyes, a soft kiss to his forehead keeps the tears at bay just a little longer.

"It's nice to have someone I can depend on for anything. That's rare to come by these days. If you're ever in the same situation, but for real- you know who to call."

Sniffling, Brie rests his head on your arm.

"You're damn right I do."

[spdrwdw]

Art by Shuploc

Pairing: knight! Miguel x princess!reader

Warnings: some fluff, some angst, no use of y/n

Summary: You were the princess of your kingdom, and Miguel was a knight. What first started off with innocent glances and little gifts turned into something more. However, with the roles you to play in society, your love for each other has an expiration.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: I have been thinking about making this into a series or something based on this fic. Let me know if anyone is interested in that. Thank you to the anon who requested this! You guys have really been helping me write. I am still working on my other requests. Sorry if I have been slow in writing. It's that time of year when it's just so busy. If you would like to be tagged in any of my fics let me know. Or, you can simply turn on your notifications for my page and get notified whenever I post. Also, this hasn't been edited so apologies for any grammatical errors.

Check out my masterlist for more of my stuff

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

At first, it was innocent glances. Peeking through lashes before looking away shyly, hiding behind your fan as to not meet his gaze. However, it proved to be a challenge when you had caught his interest. 

Soon enough, you started receiving little gifts. It never was addressed to whom it was from, but you knew they were from him. 

The gifts and stolen glances continued for weeks until one day, the knight decided to approach you. 

You never had him so close to you before, and while you knew he was rather tall, you didn’t know he was that tall! The way he towered over you sort of intimidated you, however, your uneasiness faltered when he gave you a gentle smile and bowed to you. 

You gave him a gentle smile back, however, not uttering a word to him. He didn’t mind, though. He still took the time to glance your way.

Encounters such as these became more common, and it had gotten to the point where Miguel would actually escort you to places. Wherever it was you wanted to go. You always asked for him, if he was available, and when he was, he would always say yes. 

He would always stay two paces behind you, even if he had to walk slower. While you didn’t talk to each other much, he would still greet you, calling you ‘princesa’. You didn’t know why, but you always felt butterflies in your stomach whenever you heard him speak. His voice was so smooth, like butter, a bit husky at times, but still a voice that you would love to listen to every single day. 

It would be a couple weeks later that you both began to hold conversation. It would be during one of your afternoon walks around the castle gardens. Miguel began the conversation, talking about the flowers as you both passed by them, and tell you how they reminded him of his late mother. You also learned that day that his younger brother was currently in training to become a full fledged knight. You could hear the pride in his voice. 

A couple months had then passed. Winter had arrived. And that was the first time he stole a kiss from you from behind a tree trunk.  While it wasn’t the first kiss you’ve had, it was the first time you felt sparks. The first time you felt something. Something igniting inside of you. You knew you weren’t going to be able to shake him off of you.

And, that wasn’t a good thing. 

Still, neither of you could help yourselves. You both had grown closer, shared secrets, told each other stories of one another. Miguel had not only become someone whom you snuck glances and kisses with, he had become your friend. 

And, you wish you could become something more. 

“There is something on your mind princesa. What is it that is troubling you?” Miguel asked as the two of you strolled through the kingdom. As always, he kept two paces behind you. 

You simply shook your head, shaking away the thoughts that plagued your mind. Glancing over at him, you gave Miguel a warm smile. 

“It’s nothing. Really,” you assured him. 

He could tell you were lying, however, he didn’t dare question you. 

As the seasons changed and time went by and the two of you continued to grow and change, so did your feelings for each other. 

No longer were they stolen kisses or innocent strolls through the kingdom, but, there were also more intimate moments as well. 

Whether at the horses’ stable, somewhere hidden in the gardens, or even in your private chambers, you two shared intimate moments.

Your relationship had to be kept secret, of course. Miguel was simply a knight- while a very high ranking one, his duty was to protect the kingdom and the crown. And you were the kingdom’s princess, and the one who will eventually be wearing the crown Miguel had sworn to protect. 

“I hear that your father will be hosting a ball within the coming months,” Miguel commented as the two of you laid naked in his bed, limbs tangled together. 

You simply let out a hum, not really wanting to think about it. Your father was hosting a ball in an attempt to get all of the eligible princes and the like to meet you. You knew the time would eventually come, in which you would have to look for a husband to marry. You were to become queen of your kingdom, and you were to have a crowned prince and bear heirs. 

However, you didn’t want to marry any one of those men who will be attending that ball. You wanted to be with Miguel. 

Miguel turned to look at you, his hand gently gripping your chin so you’d turn to meet his gaze. 

“There is something on your mind, princesa. I wish you would let me in.”

Letting out a sigh, you nodded your head. “Y-yes. Yes there is. I just. It’s about the ball. It’s my father’s attempt to find someone for me to marry.”

You glanced over at him, trying to read his expression. Miguel was good at hiding his feelings and keeping a stoic expression. He was a trained knight, after all. And one of the best. 

“Of course. It is time for you to start thinking about marriage. It is your duty as princess to not only become ruler to our kingdom, but to have a crowned prince at your side and have heirs.”

You frowned at his words. You knew that. But, you didn’t want to. 

“And..what will happen..to us?” You then questioned.

 You didn’t want to end what you had with Miguel. He had not only become a good friend, but an amazing lover.

 And, you had fallen in love with him. But, you didn’t know whether to tell him or not. Of course, it was best if you didn’t. It would only end up breaking you even more if you admitted your feelings to him. Besides, you were sure Miguel didn’t feel the same way, right? You were the princess. Any man would’ve been lucky to have gotten with you. At least, that’s what you assumed. 

You were not aware that Miguel had indeed developed feelings for you, and that he was determined to keep them hidden from you. There was no need for the unnecessary heartbreak. However, watching you leave him was going to be heartbreaking enough as it is. It was best for him to take this love that he had for you and take it to the grave with him. You would forget him in due time. Miguel would most likely perish in war, and you would live the rest of your days ruling a kingdom and raising your heirs alongside your husband. 

“I don’t know..”Miguel finally answered after a moment of silence clouded the room. 

“We would most likely simply go back to how things were before.”

“But, I don’t want that,” you stated, sitting up slightly, covering your bosom with his covers. 

“It isn’t about what you want, princesa. It’s about what your duty as princess and future queen holds. There was never meant to be anything between us. You and I must both be aware of that. We can keep whatever we have going on for only so long. After that…I will go back to being a mere presence that is ordered to protect you.”

You looked down at his hand that rested beside you, grabbing it. It was so much larger than yours. The skin was rough; a sign of wear from training and battle. It’s one of the things you loved about him. His battle scars decorated his body, and you don’t know why but, you loved feeling every curve of them. 

“At the end of the day..none of this would’ve worked out. You and I both know that. Princesa, look at me,” Miguel sat up now, taking both of you hands in his. 

“We can never work out. You and I are from different backgrounds. Different social classes. You are of royalty. And I am a simple commoner. Our worlds were never meant to clash.” 

“But, they did,” you whispered, looking up at him. You could feel a lump in your throat. You didn’t want to say goodbye to this. To Miguel. To your love for him. 

“We can’t just pretend nothing ever happened, Miguel. I know you may not…feel the same way about me as I feel about you, but, I can’t just let this go,” you swallowed. 

“You will forget about me, princesa. You will. Your mind will be filled with other things as well as your time and your bed,” he told you, giving your hands a gentle squeeze before lifting them to his lips and kissing between the knuckles. 

“I will always be dutifully loyal to you. I will never be far from your side. And-“ he paused for a moment, averting his gaze from you. 

“My heart will belong to you, princesa. Even after we both move on, it will belong to you. Our time together will be something I keep and cherish until my very last breath,” he whispered, looking back to you. 

You stared at him for a moment, feeling your eyes glossing over. You didn’t want to let him go. You couldn’t. 

“So will mine!” You then blurted out. 

“My heart. My love. My everything! Every bit of me will always belong to you.”

Miguel shook his head, “No, princesa. You need to move on. You can’t be clouded by things that will be of disservice to you. Do you understand me?”

You shook your head in return as you got out of the bed, out of his warmth. 

“How can you just tell me to forget about you? Do you think this was all just for fun?” 

You knew he was right. You were well aware that they could never be. No matter how much she wanted it. She had to move on. Heck, she should’ve never even accepted his advances in the first place. 

“Of course not!” 

“Then why do you think that I can forget you just like that? Miguel. You pursued me. You sent me gifts.”

“I know. And that was a grave mistake on my part. I was not thinking. I was young and naive, then. Had I actually given it thought…I would’ve never done it,” he frowned, shaking his head. 

“So, this was all a mistake to you?” You glared at him.

“Of course not. I cherish all the times we spent together. This wasn’t all just for fun. It wasn’t because I was simply bored or I wanted to because I felt the need to waste your time. What I felt for you..what I feel for you..is real. This-” he motioned to the both of you, “-this is real to me. My feelings for you are genuine. They are real. And that is why I must let you go, mi princesa. Because, if I keep this up for much longer I don’t know if I will be able to handle the heartache.” 

You couldn’t help but to let the tears that filled your eyes spill over. You have known this man for a couple of years now. You had shared secrets, told stories of one another, shared dreams and shared each other’s beds. 

Miguel whispered your name, reaching out to you, yet you moved away from him. He couldn’t help but to frown, feeling his heart sink at you rejecting him. 

“Perhaps you are right. We should end things now..right now that I am able,” your lower lip quivered. 

You loved this man. You were in love with him. Truly. Madly. It just wasn’t fair. 

“Perhaps you are correct,” Miguel simply whispered. 

So, this was it, then. This was the end of it all. Miguel was truly a wonderful experience. You had learned so much from him. He had grown to be someone who you could trust, and you will continue to trust until the very end. 

You began gathering your clothes and proceeded to get dressed, with Miguel doing the same. 

“Shall I escort you home?” Miguel offered. 

You simply shook your head before remembering the time of day it was. It would be unwise to not have an escort. 

“Actually..yes. Please,” you nodded, getting the last bit of clothing on before waiting for him. 

The walk back to the castle was quiet. Too quiet. It was rather eerie, and you did not like it at all. There was no hand holding, no flirty glances, nothing. Just the sound of your footsteps on the cobblestone path. 

You wanted to burst into tears. How could life be so cruel? Your life was meant to be like in the fairytales where you get to marry who you love and happily ever after! You were the princess in those stories. 

And yet, no one knew the truth. The children who listened to the stories. The adults who would tell it to their children. The cruel truth that fairytales weren’t real.

Once you reached the castle, Miguel’s steps went into a halt. This was where he would drop you off. It was too risky for him to enter inside with you at this time of night. 

You didn’t want to say goodbye. Who knew if you would ever see him again. Well, of course you would but, not in the same light. He would no longer be your Miguel. He would simply be a knight whose duty is to protect the crown. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispered to you, reaching over to grab your hand, however, stopping just as his fingers brushed yours. 

You weren’t sure whether to trust his words or not. But, when he took a step back and bowed to you, that’s when you knew. 

It was over. 

☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡. o .｡.

tags: @migueloharastruelove , @camzzn

[yourcutelittlegayfriend]

hi hope your having a good day!

do you have any headcanons for a yandere Clark Kent, I just think he's neat

Hi! I have slightly great day actually but I hope yours is much better!

In regards to Headcannons about Sups yes, Superman really is a pretty great character loved the guy since I saw him on TV but kinda scared about how they keep making evil superman these days, anyway lemme just open my old notes and please forgive me for typos this isn't really proofread much.

Yandere Clark Kent/SuperMan

HeadCannons

[General, Platonic and Romantic]

General

In the terms of a yandere Clark I think he's somewhat-

Obsessive - loves to pick up even the tiniest things you do or the little stuff that makes you -You! especially with that perfect vision that can literally see for miles.

Example: The tiny baby hairs that curls at your nape when you tie your hair up, The habit you do when something catches your eye or interest and even the slight twitch of your muscle when you're about to do something.

Controlling - but I say he let's you have some freedom, this golden boy is raised by the Kents to hold his temper when things doesn't go his way-

Like when you disagree with what he wants he will then try to hear out your reason first and maybe work something out, it breaks his heart to see you angry, distress or just sad.

But if it's been life or death? your life and wellbeing on the line? There's no talking your way out of this, his words are final.

Hero Complex - He thinks its his responsibility to protect and save you from everything, He's Superman, Man of Steel and a Hero, Yes of course you can get groceries for yourself but atleast let him come with you, you don't know what some people are planning or what goes inside their head until you just find yourself at the end of the barrel of a gun.

[Platonic]

As a Yandere Platonic it's like just in a very over protective family.

Whether you're like a parental figure, a sibling or even like his own child, He'll become to protective over you.

If he ever has the chance to show you of he will but not to the point of telling anyone everything about you, they'll know who you are, your name , what you are or relation to him and what you do but that's it, he'll try to avoid anymore discussion or talks about you, he gets to keep that informations to himself.

Like how you really like your puppy and you want everyone to know you have one but you won't let them pet it or even just look at them in general, it's your puppy, you're not obligated to share them to people.

Very family Oriented guy, he likes to have his family close to him and celebrate any important events with everyone, memories are precious and he wants to keep them forever, we have this thing here -a culture you might say- where in some families it's not really required or force upon the children to move out and become independent sometimes it's still okay to live under the same roof with your grandparents, parents, siblings, in laws, along with your wife and children and your siblings children (dear lord u don't know how true this is in my country)

I like to think that if you want to be a bit independent to Clark, he'll be like 'Oh! I understand so I thought about this instead'-

and literally build either a separate house that reaches his parents farm house in one full walk or extended the house where you get your own space and still be with the family.

He coddles you even more when you don't have superpowers or is a kryptonian, He freaks out when your hurt and acts like you'll die from a little scratch after falling, still kept baby proofing the house even if you become an adult

You can use accidents or possible injuries as a leverage but you can never talk or joke about kys because he will literally get angry with you and gives you lecture about how important your life is.

[Romantic]

As a romantic yandere I think he's a bit on the Hopeless Romantic side.

Believes in love at first sight or soulmates and continue to fall more and more in love with you day by day, thinks about how romantic it is to swoop in and save you as Superman, likes to pop out everytime you stand on your balcony and sneak up on you and how you fit right in his arms as he carries you in the sky with you and him alone above everything and everyone.

Will give you gifts that has more sentimental value than the price tag, like the scarf his Ma made even meals and treats for you, simple things maybe art supplies or notebook for journaling and if he can get a good raise he'll get you that jewelry that brings out your beauty, he loves to see anything he gifts to you on your person a bit like marking on you that kind of stuff.

Doesn't really like Poly-relationship, he's not really against it but He likes to keep you to himself, you're both made for each other and he likes to keep it that way.

Family - adding this again but really wants to get married to you soon after like what 2-3 dates? wants you to move in and become a stay at home spouse where you'll spend more time with his folks and maybe take care of the kids.

Is dying to see you round and prego like goodness lord you are even hotter to him when you stand there either cooking or walking around with your hand on your hip and the other under that bump may or may not.

If you're willing in this relationship maybe 2-3 kids? if not forced pregnancy might become possible.

And if you can't have kids it's alright adoption is available, he would still look like a highschool boy in love when you hold a baby or a tiny kid in your arms

I'm a bit soft on my Yandere stuff so a bit srry for that

And that's all I got for the Big Man supes, I hope you like this and I hope did this right, been writing this one at 3am, Thanks for the ask btw.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hi!! I love your writing!! Would it be possible for your thoughts on Ford/stan with a girlfriend who is a therapist or psychiatrist? (I’m studying psychology so this is a totally self indulgent ask!) thank you!! 🫶🏼

A/n: Ok! I'm sorry these took long

Stan/Ford pines x therapist!reader

Ford Pines:

Ford is instantly intrigued by your profession. He’s always been interested in how the human brain works, and having a girlfriend who understands the mind on such a deep level excites his curiosity.

He loves asking you questions about psychology, sometimes treating your discussions like he’s learning from a textbook.

“So, if someone were to experience prolonged exposure to isolation, how do you think that would affect their psyche?”

Ford absolutely loves to hear your insights on everything from mental health to obscure psychological theories, often adding his own knowledge of psychology.

Ford greatly values your calming presence. As someone who has gone through trauma from his interdimensional travels, Ford finds comfort in how you can guide him through his anxieties and ground him during his moments of overthinking. It’s not that he’s asking for therapy, but the way you talk and listen to him brings him a lot of peace.

Sometimes Ford gets lost in his head, overanalyzing everything or diving too deep into his research, and you’re the one who pulls him back. You know just how to approach his worries without invalidating them, and he’s beyond grateful for that.

“You always know exactly what to say to bring me back to reality. How do you do it?”

He’s particularly interested in your take on the psychological impact of interdimensional travel or exposure to anomalous phenomena.

He’ll often turn to you for discussions about the mind’s adaptability and resilience. You’ve become his go-to person for talking about the human condition in the context of the strange.

Ford is also incredibly supportive of your career and education. If you’re studying or need quiet time to work, he’ll make sure you have the perfect environment to focus. He’s always ready to offer encouragement when you’re feeling stressed.

“I know it’s a lot, but if anyone can do this, it’s you. I’ve never seen someone so dedicated to understanding the complexities of the mind.”

Ford loves sharing intellectual moments with you, like reading papers or discussing recent psychological studies. Sometimes, he even helps you with your work by giving you unique perspectives from his travels, and in turn, you help him manage the more stressful parts of his past.

Stan Pines:

Stan doesn’t fully get what a therapist or psychiatrist does at first (he’s used to handling things by “toughing it out”) but he quickly comes to appreciate how insightful you are.

“So, you talk to people about their problems? Gotta hand it to ya, you’ve got a lot of patience. I can barely deal with the customers.”

Stan is amazed at how you can listen to other people’s issues all day and still come home well. He’s constantly in awe of how much you care for others and how you help people through their darkest moments.

“You’ve gotta be some kinda saint to listen to people’s problems all day and not go crazy yourself.”

He loves that you don’t push him to talk, but when he does, you listen attentively. You’ve taught him that it’s okay to share his feelings without making him feel weak. Sometimes he’s caught off guard by how much better he feels after talking to you.

“Huh, I guess it’s not so bad… all this feelings stuff. You really know how to make a guy feel better.”

Stan appreciates your ability to see through his tough-guy act. You can read him like a book, and while it’s a little intimidating, it’s also a relief. You pick up on the small things, like when he’s more stressed than usual or when something’s bothering him.

“How do you always know what’s goin’ on in my head? It’s like you’re a mind reader or somethin’. Say how bout we put that to use in the shack? I'm joking, unless you want to.”

He loves to brag about your career, even if he doesn’t always understand it.

“Yeah, my girl’s a therapist. Helps people sort out their problems. She’s smart as hell. I dunno how she does it, but it’s pretty impressive.”

If you’re ever feeling overwhelmed by your work, Stan is the first to encourage you to take a break. He might not know all the details of your job, but he knows how important it is for you to recharge. He’ll pull you away from your books or laptop and suggest watching a movie or doing something fun together.

“You’ve been workin’ hard all day. Come on, let’s kick back and relax. You deserve it.”

He’s a little protective of you, especially if you’ve had a rough day. If you come home stressed after dealing with a difficult client, Stan will be there to comfort you in his own way, whether that’s making you laugh, cooking a simple meal, or just sitting beside you.

Stan will occasionally ask for advice, though he’ll frame it casually. “So, let’s say someone I know has a lotta stuff from their past they don’t like talkin’ about. What’d you say to help ‘em out?” He trusts you more than he’ll admit and values your wisdom, even if he’s not always ready to face his own feelings head-on.

A/n: you give them therapy they need, the end ^^

[morgana-larkin]

Me againnnn lmao I have another request could u do Melissa x reader where reader is normally quiet but someone brought up their special interest and everyone is kinda weirded out coz reader gets so happy and starts talking about it and sharing facts and stuff but no one except Melissa knows reader is autistic and someone says something mean to reader and she gets upset and Melissa comforts reader and also stands up for her (as always no pressure I’m so so so happy! u r the first person that iv come across who writes fics about Melissa and autistic reader I get so happy when I see a notification from u i literally jump up and down with happiness and your fics really help me to accept im autistic coz I’m still trying to come to terms with it anyway hope u r doing well🫶)

OMG YES! Info dumping! I love it. And I’m so glad my fics are helping you. Feel free as well to message me directly if you ever want. So my other obsession besides Lisa Ann Walter, is Doctor Who and Jodie Whittaker, so of course I chose to have the reader talk about her as the Doctor… I regret nothing 😊. I went a little extra at the end but I’m too gay for Melissa to care. Anyway, I enjoyed writing this so thank you for the prompt and I hope you like it! As always, not edited in the slightest.

For everyone, feel free to keep sending me prompts, and I was thinking about writing a one shot about Cheesy as there’s not enough imo. Let me know if I should or not.

Title based off the song from Shrek 3 and the Italian word stronzo means asshole.

Thank You for Letting Me Be Myself

Warnings: someone is mean to reader, reader struggling with having autism(small part)

Words: 2.3k

You’re sitting in the break room at the table with Barb and Melissa. You get up to get a coffee and when you do you hear someone starting to talk about Doctor Who and you perk up.

You turn around to see Jacob, Mr. Morton and another teacher talking about it. “You guys watch Doctor Who?” You say and they stop talking and look up at you. Normally you’re quiet and don’t really say much as you’re recharging before you go and have to teach your kiddos again.

“Yes, do you watch it?” Jacob asks you and you nod with a big smile. Melissa looks up at you and sees your smile and she can’t help but smile herself. She’s had a crush on you since about 4 months after you started and it’s almost been 9 months that you’re working here.

“Well come here and share your thoughts about it.” Jacob says and you walk over to them, coffee in hand.

“What exactly is your discussion about?” You ask them.

“About the first female doctor, the 13th doctor.” Mr. Morton says and you keep smiling.

“She’s my favourite doctor! Like she’s so enthusiastic and passionate and she just loves everything about what she does! And she’s so funny too, it’s just a joy to watch Jodie play her!” You start and they look at you confused, wondering why you’ve always been quiet but now you’re talkative.

The truth is, you're autistic and the only one that knows is Melissa and she promised not to tell anyone since it’s your secret not hers. You told her because you felt like you kept missing social cues or taking things too literally, so you wanted someone in your corner to help you and she had no problem doing that for you. She looks at you talking so passionately about your favourite show with a smile and heart eyes before going back to her phone, secretly still listening to you.

“And her Tardis is so amazing, oh and her companion’s compliment her so well, and her outfit looks amazing. Did you know that Jodie helped decide on the outfit to support the LGBTQ community since she’s a huge ally. And also…” and you keep going on for about 5 minutes about how much you love the 13th doctor and her era on Doctor Who. Until the other teacher, you don’t know their name, the one Mr. Morton and Jacob were talking too, says something.

“OMG! Would you please shut up!” He says and you quickly shut your mouth. “I preferred it when you didn’t speak at all.” He says, glaring at you. And you look down at the ground, embarrassed before running out of there.

Melissa looked up when he started speaking and is now getting up and walking over to them. “Hey! Don’t talk to her like that. You should count yourself lucky that I won’t contact one of my guys on you.” She says and looks at Jacob. “Why didn’t you say anything?!?” She says to him “or you?” She says to Mr. Morton.

“Sorry Melissa, it all happened so fast.” Mr. Morton says and Jacob nods in agreement.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” She says to the teacher that was mean to you.

“Hey, we were just sitting here talking about it until she cuts in and starts talking about everything that we weren’t even discussing. And she wouldn’t stop talking.” The teacher says , only making a deeper hole for himself. Melissa glares at him.

“I don’t care what you think! There’s better ways to do that!” She says to him.

“She shouldn’t have talked so much and knew that it was too much.” He says, still trying to defend himself.

“She’s autistic you stronzo!” She yells at him and then realises that she just told your secret and has wide eyes. All 3 of them look at her speechless, now understanding that you got excited and were info dumping and didn’t mean to talk so much. Melissa turns around and walks out of the break room and goes to find you.

She ends up finding you in your classroom crying on your chair, hugging your legs. She knocks on the door, “hey y/n it’s me, just wanted to come check on you.” She tells you.

You get up and unlock the door then open it. Melissa’s heart breaks a bit when she sees you. Eyes puffy, red and watery, tear stained cheeks and red nose from you blowing your nose.

“Oh hun.” She says and you walk back to your chair hugging your legs again. Melissa walks in and closes and locks the door then walks over to your desk. “Hey, he was an ass, he shouldn’t have said that to you.” Melissa tells you and crouches down and you look at her.

“No, he’s right, I was talking too much. I shouldn’t have gotten involved in their conversation. I just got so excited,” you tell her and you sniffle a bit.

“Hun, it’s understandable, I know how much you love Doctor Who. You have nothing to be ashamed about.” She tells you and grabs your hand. “Btw I might have accidentally told them that you’re autistic. As in I told them and called that teacher a stronzo for you.” She tells you. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to slip out, I just got angry that he was mean to you.” She says, rubbing your hand with her thumb.

“It’s ok, they would have found out eventually. But this is another reason I don’t engage in conversations, cause I might talk too much.” You tell her. Melissa gets up and opens her arms out.

“Come here.” She tells you and motions to hug her. You put your feet down on the ground and then hug her waist since you’re still sitting in your chair. “Why don’t we go back in there, finish lunch. And then after school you can come to my place and I can make you some food and we can watch whatever you want.” She suggests and you look at her surprised.

“Really?” You ask her and she nods. “I would love that.” You tell her and she smiles. She helps you up and then unlocks the door and opens it for you. You both walk out and she sees you’re nervous about going back. She puts an arm wrapped around your back and her other hand on the arm closes to her and rubs it, providing comfort for you.

You get back in and when you enter everyone stops and looks up at you. Melissa can feel you immediately tense up. “What are all youse looking at?” She says and glares at everyone. Everyone immediately looks back down to their phone or food and continues what they were doing. Melissa leads you back to the table where Barb is and Barb gives you a comforting smile.

The teacher that was mean to you gets up and comes over to you. Melissa sees him coming over and glares at him, almost daring him to hurt you again. He has his head hanging a bit, looking embarrassed and stands beside you and you look up at him.

“Hey y/n, I just wanted to apologize to you. I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, I’m sorry.” He tells you and you nod your head at him. You’re too overwhelmed right now and can’t speak. You finish your lunch without saying another word and Melissa keeps glancing at you, worried about you.

You finish up the day quietly. You get the kids to work on their book report so that it’s silent and you don’t have to talk much. At the end of the day, when your last student was picked up you glance over at Melissa down the hall. You taught first grade so your classrooms are close together.

You can’t help but stare at her. She’s bending over and offering one of her students a high five before waving bye to them to go with their parent. You decide to leave now while she’s distracted, you think that maybe it wasn’t the best to get Melissa involved in your situation and shouldn’t have told her you’re autistic. So many people have had to accommodate you or help you and you feel like you should be able to do it yourself now that you’re an adult.

Melissa sees you look at her with a sad expression on your face before leaving. She can’t help but feel like maybe you won’t come over to her place now. When her last student is leaving with their parent a couple minutes later, she practically books it to the parking lot but sees your car is already gone.

She drives home and gets to work on cooking dinner, hoping you’d show. But then she gets a text from you saying that you won’t be able to make it tonight, and she sighs. She researched autism when you told her a few months ago and she knows that when autistic people get overwhelmed, they hide themselves away. She offered for you to come to her place to de-stress with food and tv, so she does the next best thing. After she finished cooking, she packed it into a container, and brought it with her to your place. She went and knocked on your door.

You answered it not too long later with leggings and loose shirt on. “Melissa? What are you doing here?” You ask her.

“Well since you won’t come over to my place, I thought I’d come to you.” She says with a warm smile and you now feel even more guilty for cancelling on her. “I brought over food I made. So either we can eat here or we can go back to my place. Choice is up to you.” She tells you with a shrug. You decide to go to her place and when you get there she gives you your favourite hoodie of hers and you sit on the couch. You’ve been to her place before and you told her that the plastic felt weird to sit on and she removed it the next day so that you’re comfortable when you go there. “Hey, you don’t have to speak but I just want to know that you’re ok.” She says and you nod. She gives you a plate of the food and you see that it’s her spaghetti and meatballs dish. Your favourite food of hers and you smile at her. She joins you on the couch, sitting next to you and then hands you the remote so you can decide what to watch, you decide on Shrek 3.

You watch the movie while eating, with Melissa right next to you, you in her hoodie, and you finally feel like you’re calming down. You put your head on her shoulder after you put your empty plate on the coffee table and she wraps her arm around you. You continue the movie, quoting some of the lines, and when it plays the ending scene with puss and donkey singing thank you, Melissa gets an idea. She guides you up and leads you to the empty space beside her couch and starts dancing with you. When the chorus comes on she sings it to you “I wanna thank you for lettin me be myself…again” She sings and you laugh. When she says the line again, she spins you while singing. The second chorus comes up “come on sing it with me.” She tells you.

The both of you sing it while dancing “I WANNA THANK YOU FOR LETTIN ME BE MYSELF…AGAIN.” You both sing at the top of your lungs. When it ends you’re both laughing and she hugs you.

“Thank you for letting me be myself.” You tell her and she looks at you with a warm smile and places a lock of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek.

“It’s not a problem hun, it doesn’t matter to me that you’re autistic you know. You just think differently, and that's alright.”

You look in her eyes and you lean forward and kiss her. Melissa kisses you back and moves her hand from your cheek to the back of your head and places her left hand on your waist. You pull back and look at her with a smile.

“You kissed me back.” You say to her and she nods. “Why?”

“Because I like you. I have for a few months now.” She tells you.

“For how long?” You ask her and she thinks about it.

“Around the new year.” And you look at her in shock.

“But that’s after I told you I was autistic.” You tell her, putting the pieces together. “You knew I was autistic and you still like me?” You question her.

“How would you being autistic make me not like you?” She asks you, confused.

“Because I’m different than other people and have struggles because of it.” You tell her like it’s obvious.

“So? Everyone is different in their own way and everyone has their own struggles.” She tells you. “For example, I have trouble letting people in, because of trust issues. And I can have a short temper too.” She says and you look at her with so much love in your eyes. You kiss her again and she doesn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

When the person says “you may kiss the bride” , she doesn’t hesitate to give you a kiss then either. With a huge smile, she brings you closer to her and gives you a kiss, as wife and wife.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

Let me know if you want to be added! 🙂

[j-jinxee]

FIRST TIME ☆

TYPE - Lucifer x Reader

WARNINGS - service top Lucifer, p in v, petnames, swearing, daddy kink, breeding kink if you squint, I think that's all of them??

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

"Really?" Lucifer looked up at you like he had just fallen in love all over again. "You really want me to be your first?" You've never had sex with anyone in hell, even in your human life it only happened maybe 3 times. You've explained to your friends how most people just never interested you enough to want to go that far. To put it simply, you were never one for a cheap lay, but Lucifer had stolen your heart years ago.

Of course you had thought about it plenty times before, but you always second guessed yourself with this stuff, so you brushed it aside and waited for the right time. Little did you know, the right time was never when you expected it. It was late, around 2am, no light entered your shared bedroom apart from the dim glow of the red sky. You and Luci were next to one another in bed, quietly talking about various subjects, rarely anything important, you just liked listening to eachother. You honestly couldn't recall how you got on the topic of first times, but here you were.

"Well I'd obviously want you to be my first in Hell Luci" you told him while smiling sweetly.

"Really?" He gazed up at you with such love.

"Of course, who else would it be?" You questioned, giggling at how honoured he felt, even though you two had been together for roughly 2 years now.

"You really want me to be your first?" He couldn't hide his smile, you could hear the sheer amount of adoration in his voice.

"Yes baby, why wouldn't I?" You two never broke eye contact while starting to sit up.

"I don't know I just- I'm glad it's me" The highlights in his eyes were heart shaped, and your hands stayed clasped together as he shifted to fully face you.

"I'm so lucky" He said, barely a whisper as he captured your lips with his. He was now situated ontop of you, his left hand slowly went down from your hip to your thigh, while yours rested on his jawline.

You let yourself fall into the moment, quietly moaning into the kiss, and feeling him smile against your lips. His right hand wandered underneath your baggy shirt, playing with the lining of your black lace bra. He broke the kiss for a moment, looking you in the eyes for permission, you gave him a slight nod before connecting your lips again.

He unclipped your bra with ease, even if he used sorcery, it was still hot. Your hands glided down his chest to unbutton his waistcoat, while his made feather light friction to your folds. You still had your shorts on, but they were thin, and Lucifer could already feel everything through them.

He didn't want to separate your lips again so soon, so with a snap of his fingers, your shirt and shorts vanished off your body. Feeling the cool air hit your sensitive bud, before the sensation being replaced with Lucifer's fingers. "Let me know if anything hurts, ok baby?" He looked up at you through half lidded eyes, eyes that were full of nothing but lust.

He carefully dragged your body downwards so you were fully lying down, god he looked so pretty above you like this. His fingers slowly glided up and down your slit, the pace making you squirm, but you didn't know what to say. Lucifer could see the effect he had on you, "shh, don't worry darling, I'll make you feel good" his tongue immediately entering your mouth as his fingers brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Your mind was already fogged, and he wasn't even inside you yet. Your hands raked through his hair as the coil inside you got tighter and tighter. The intensity of the moment had you sweating already, and this was only his fingers. Before you knew it, the coil snapped and left you moaning into his mouth while clenching around nothing.

Lucifer worked you through the high gently, calming you down by kissing your neck and collarbone. "Now baby, I don't want to overwork you..." he spoke, "I know I can hold out, I'm just not sure you can." His voice sent chills down your spine, making you smile. You swear his eyes were glowing red at this point, not because of anger like most people saw, no. This look was only to be seen by you.

"Please Luci, I need you now- please"

"Ok baby, just- please let me know if anything hurts" he was so loving, wanting to give you nothing but pleasure.

His boxers already had a wet patch from all the pre leaking out of his tip, you inched them off his hips and started palming his length. "fffuck babe- be careful" he teased before positioning himself at your entrance. His hands holding your waist for leverage as he slowly pushed into you, watching your tight little slit swallow his cock made his pupils dilate more than you've ever seen.

You squirmed at the feeling of being stretched, but you knew he would stop if he saw you show any signs of discomfort, so you just awaited the pleasure. He shifted his hands to clasp yours instead, holding your hands down by either side of your head. Giving you time to adjust, he slowly started to move, not faltering his eye contact.

He thrusted antagonisingly slow, hurting you was his worst nightmare, but you couldn't take this. "Please- ah! Please faster!" You pleaded.

"A-are you sure angel? I don't wan-"

"Fuck me harder! please! I need you"

You threw all dignity out the window, you'd beg for his dick if you had to. That riled him up to the point he wanted to go faster too, so he did. Thrusting into you hard and fast, his eyes progressively glowing brighter and brighter as he witnessed the beautiful sight before him. "ff-fuck angel! So tight, like you were made for me."

His talk got you closer and closer, causing you to say whatever came to mind. "Ah- Fuck! So good, daddy!" ...that caught him off guard.

"Ohh~ fuck baby, you know me so well" he nearly came on the spot hearing you call him daddy, while also relieved that he didn't have to tell you that he absolutely lovedddd it.

His thrusts became more animalistic by the second, unhooking your legs from around his waist and pushing them to your chest. Fucking deeper and deeper inside you. You felt like passing out right then, his cock reaching places you were sure didn't exist before.

"Shitshitshit! Ah- Luci! I'm close"

"Me too baby- cum for me, cum on my cock"

You pulled him down by his unbuttoned waistcoat and captured his lips with yours once more. Feeling his tongue invade your mouth as you both came to climax. Thick ropes of his hot, white cum shot up into your womb as you came undone for him. He made you into a fucked out mess, while also treating you like a porcelain doll. He pulled out but used his fingers to shove his cum back inside of you, rambling on about how he'd love to see you pregnant, how he wanted a child with you, even if he knew there was a very small chance of it actually happening.

Luci layed down next to you, holding you close and whispering soft praises in your ear. You could already hear the bath running, perks of having a boyfriend who uses sorcery. You could tell he was the one, no one had ever treated you like this, and you'd never loved anyone like this before.

"Thankyou baby, I love you"

"I love you too, my beautiful angel"

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

RAHHH this took so long wtf lmfao 💀 I hope y'all like it tho 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I don't rlly have much to say here so yuh

Side note tho, I'm so obsessed w Lucifers voice when he says "but hey! A hotel, fun" in episode 5 like UGH his voice is just so 🙏🏻🙏🏻

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 15

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Ale ran around the lawn of Crown Castle’s gardens, his fluffy fur similar to freshly-baked sponge cake flowing with his movement.

Kate: The weather is nice and it’s fun running around with Ale.

Ellis: Hehe, it is fun. Kate’s happy face is cute.

Liam: Since Kate and Ale came, we’ve had more time for stuff like this.

Ellis: Yeah, you’re right.

(Ever since I’ve started helping out with looking after Ale, I’ve naturally been able to spend more time with everyone outside of missions)

When I squinted at the bright sunlight, I caught a figure through a window.

(Ah, Roger!)

When our eyes met, I waved at him in his room.

(...I hope I’m not making some kind of face. Am I smile naturally?)

(Ah, but he could hear my heartbeat from there if he wanted to…Calm down, calm down)

I acted as if everything was the same as usual, but my mind was full of memories from last night.

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: If I were to fall in love, then I’d want us to fall together.

Because of that, I won’t ever confess that I like you until you believe that love exists.

~~ End flashback ~~

(I did pretty much just admit that I liked Roger)

By the time I noticed how the drug named Roger made its way into my body, it was already too late.

However…it didn’t matter how much I liked Roger if it was unrequited.

(Yeah. I want Roger to like me back)

Kate: …Looks like I’m more selfish than I thought.

Liam: Hehe, you’re talking out loud. Is it about Roger?

Kate: …How did you know?

Liam: If anyone didn’t, then they’re seriously ill. They should be sent to a hospital for being so clueless.

(I guess it’s that obvious…)

I looked away in embarrassment and Liam smiled beautifully like a rose.

Kate: I boasted that I’d be able to teach him about romantic love, but ended up falling for him…I’m so frustrated and embarrassed.

I don’t know why I can freely admit my feelings to anyone but Roger himself.

Liam: It can’t be helped. The human heart’s the most unpredictable thing in the world. It’d be so much easier if your heart followed your brain.

Liam’s eyes were downcast as he smiled. It felt like he wanted to abandon everything, like he was touching death’s fingers.

~~ Flashback ~~

Roger: Would it be good or evil to make curses disappear from this world?

You don’t have to answer me now. When it comes to you, let me know.

~~ End flashback ~~

(...The more I learned about the Cursed, the less I was able to answer the question)

Alec and Roger’s past, Lance’s death, Ellis who was next handed the Briar Bushes curse, and Liam before me.

(Values change so rapidly that it’s puzzling)

(But I shouldn’t stop thinking about it)

Liam: I’d like to see it. Roger being so smitten with you, I mean.

I’d like to see it too.

I hope it happens.

I’ll do my best. +4 +4

Kate: Then I’ll do my best!

Liam: Yeah, that’s the spirit. Unlike me, Roger’s a rational one. That’s why it’d be interesting to see someone like him be madly in love.

Kate: Hehe, was that a wicked look just now?

Liam: I’m cursed with being led by my own curiosity. So you’ll have to excuse my wicked interest.

(I don’t know if you can make curses disappear)

(I wonder if that’s a good thing. However…)

Kate: I promise when Roger’s smitten with me, I’ll let you know.

Sometimes it’s the small promises that are important to live for.

Liam: I’m looking forward to it.

As I smiled back at Liam, Ale and Ellis came back from playing.

(Ah, that’s right)

Kate: Um, do you know a place where I can get some beautiful flowers? I thought you two would be familiar with what’s popular.

Liam: Of course, but are they a present for someone?

Kate: You heard about how a Cursed One named Lance died the other day, right? I heard he was buried at a public cemetery and wanted to go leave some flowers.

(Lance won’t ever come back…so I hope he can rest peacefully)

Ellis: Then how about sharing the flowers from Victor’s garden? He grows flowers as a hobby. I saw him walking around with flowers this morning and I’m sure he’ll share them if you ask.

Kate: Hehe, I wasn’t aware. I’ll go ask him then.

Liam: That’s fine, but I’m worried about you going to the cemetery all by yourself. Lately, young people have been getting attacked or going missing.

Ellis: Do you mean the incidents Victor and Will are investigating?

(I do remember the barkeep saying something like that)

Unfortunately these incidents weren’t uncommon in Britain given its large population.

There is as much darkness as there are people.

(It could be related to how the girl Lance liked was killed)

Liam: I wish I could go with you but I have rehearsal…

Ellis: Sorry. I have work at Jude’s company.

Liam: Ah, Harrison might be free this afternoon.

Kate: I can’t be a bother to everyone! I’ll be fine going alone. I’ll just take Crown’s carriage to the cemetery and come back before it gets dark.

Liam: Oh? Then I guess we don’t need to worry too much.

Ale: Arf arf.

Kate: Ah, seems like Ale will be coming with me.

Ellis: Then take care of Kate, Ale.

Ale: Woof.

--

Victor had gladly shared his flowers with me and now Ale and I were being rocked around in a carriage.

When I glanced out the window, the carriage stopped not too far from the cemetery.

(Huh? But the cemetery’s still a bit of a ways down)

The coachman got off his seat, opened the door, and signed to me.

(“The road ahead…is too narrow for a carriage to take to the cemetery…”)

I somehow managed to read the sign language that I had just recently learned and tore a page out of my notebook to write a reply.

“Thank you. Please wait here, I’ll be back soon.”

I passed the paper to the coachman and alighted the carriage.

--

The sky started turning red as dusk approached.

(The cemetery’s really close. I’ll be in and out in no time)

We walked down the path leading to the cemetery.

For a while, the only sound was the grass being blown by the wind until— 

Ale: Arf arf arf.

Ale, who was walking ahead of me, suddenly turned and started barking.

Kate: Ale, what’s…

The bouquet fell from my arms.

I felt a cloth smelling like chemicals press against my nose and lost consciousness— 

--

Elbert: …

Elbert wandered around the castle looking for something, his face paler than ever.

Then—

Roger: Yo, El. Have you seen the ‘lil lady around? I wanted to get her to do some work for me, but haven’t seen her for a while.

Having found who he was looking for, Elbert rushed over to Roger.

Elbert: Roger. Listen to me calmly. It’s possible that Kate was kidnapped.

Roger: Kate? What do you mean?

Ellis: What you just said, is it true…?

They turned around and saw Jude and Ellis who had just come back from work.

Jude: The princess got kidnapped? By who?

Elbert: I’m not sure. Earlier in the garden, a coachman came up to me looking terribly disturbed. He said that he dropped Kate off not far from the cemetery, but no matter how long he waited, she never came back. He went to go look for her, but only found Ale. Here, he gave me this.

He handed Roger a piece of paper with “I’ll be back soon” written in Kate’s handwriting.

Roger: …

Ellis: Kate wanted to go leave flowers on the grave of the Cursed One who passed a few days ago. She said she’d take a carriage and be back before sundown, so she’d be fine.

Jude: That’s Saint Cemetery. Got a road so narrow that carriages pass through. Somethin’ must’ve the moment she got out.

Elbert: We don’t know what happened, but we can’t waste any time. What do we do, Roger?

Roger: …

There was nothing reflected in Roger’s eyes.

Elbert: …Roger?

Elbert waved his hand in front of Roger’s face and the latter blinked in surprise.

Roger: …

Ellis: Roger, are you okay?

Roger: Yeah…sorry. Just…a little shaken.

Elbert and Ellis: …(°ロ°)

Roger took a deep breath as if to calm himself, eyes now focused.

Roger: This likely has something to do with the recent incidents. Let’s tell Victor first and then gather the rest of Crown.

--

When news of Kate’s disappearance broke, all of Crown assembled.

Victor: Her Majesty gathers information from the masses. If Kate was kidnapped, then it’s believed to be related to the incidents.

Ellis: …So it is related to the incidents targeting young people. But why?

Jude: Human traffickin’, kidnappin’, murder for fun, there’s all sorts of reasons.

Victor: As you’re aware, Will and I have been looking into the culprit. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to identify them yet. However, based on where the victims have gone missing, we’ve been able to identify possible bases.

He spread a map of London out on the table.

Four areas were circled in red—

Victor: If Kate was kidnapped, she could be in any of these locations.

Roger: …

Victor: We don’t have time to waste. Crown will split into four teams and search each location.

Jude: I’ll be collectin’ a huge reward when I find the princess.

--

Jude: You’re up, ya dumb dog. Lead us to our dumb Fairytale Keeper.

Roger: Ale, I’m counting on you.

Ale: Woof.

A team of Roger, Jude, and Ale boarded a carriage and were now passing through a dense forest.

— Suddenly, the piercing sound of horses neighing was heard and the carriage screeched to a stop.

Roger: What the…?

Nica: Wie geht es dir (How do you do), Crown? Pardon me.

There was a polite knock on the carriage door and one of “Vogel’s” twins boarded the carriage.

Roger: You…

Nica: I just saw the Queen’s aide looking pale*. I heard Robin has gone missing?

Roger: If you already know, then get out. We don’t have time for you.

Nica: Don’t want to. Did the good doctor forget that we’re here to deepen our friendship? I’m telling you I’ll help you. I might be of some use?

Jude: …Oi, quack. We gotta move.

Roger: If you don’t wanna get kicked out then behave, older twin.

Nica: Allerdings (Of course), I’ll behave.

The carriage started moving again— 

Only Nica was happily petting Ale in his lap, as if he were on his way to a holiday resort.

His POV | Next

-

*Alternatively, red with anger. 血相を変えた was used, which in a literal sense, means ‘to change facial expression or color’. It’s contextual and in this case, Victor could be either.

[nausicaamusiclover20]

Hi Nausicaa)) I was rewatching Freddie’s memorial concert and had a crazy idea. It’s pretty weird but I hope you will consider making a story? Also it’s super long I’m so sorry 😢

Reader is an Amy Winehouse-style (I love her so much she’s definitely my favorite female singer) singer and her debut album was really liked by Freddie and they even had a collaboration, and after that her career skyrocketed and she’s gotten many Grammy’s etc despite being quite young. So she’s invited to be a part of the line up for the show and has to sing “who wants to live forever” and James is supposed to play rhythm guitar for that. And cause she’s much more mainstream, he initially doesn’t really like her but of course does his part, cause he doesn’t want to cause a scene. At rehearsal, everyone is in awe of her as she’s got a great sense of humor, self irony, etc. - except for James. And when Slash or Joe Elliot joke that they are jealous of him cause he’s gonna perform with her, he just brushes it off saying that she’s just another “overrated singer for sad chicks” and then tells Lars that she probably slept with a producer to get a record deal. Unfortunately, she accidentally overheard all of that but she doesn’t tell anyone cause she’s doesn’t want to ruin such an important day. And she even listened to Metallica’s stuff ( even developed a crush on James) and wanted to talk with him but not anymore.

Next day, at the concert the performance is a total success, everyone is super happy. And when hearing her sing in front of a huge crowd James realizes how great her voice is and what a great performer she is. So he tries to ask her out after the show is over, but since she overheard him saying rather unpleasant things about her a day before she thinks that he’s trying to humiliate or prank her and tells him that she actually liked him. But since he thinks she’s got no talent and slept with people to get where she is now, reader wants nothing to do with James.

And I was thinking - maybe Brian from Queen notices his distress and James doesn’t go into details but tells him he screwed up. So Brian actually goes and asks the reader to hear James out, and she agrees, out of respect for Brian. James, really bad with emotions, apologizes and next day they have breakfast together?

If you don’t like the idea, can you please just post the ask saying that you are not interested? I feel bad throwing such a huge request at you but I’ve read your stories and if anyone can turn my vague idea in a story - that can only be you. Thank you ❤️

First of all, I thank you so much for your trust, it means a lot to me what you’ve said. I hope you like it❤

Behind the appearances

The rehearsal space buzzed with energy. I’d spent the last few days trying to calm my nerves about performing alongside rock legends at the Queen tribute concert. My career had skyrocketed in the past few years, and though I’d won Grammys and collaborated with icons, this felt like a different league entirely. It wasn’t just my admiration for Freddie and the band—this was my chance to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with the greats.

But not everyone seemed thrilled about it.

James Hetfield, the rhythm guitarist for my performance of “Who Wants to Live Forever,” was distant. I’d caught him rolling his eyes a few times during rehearsals, his whole demeanor screaming that he wanted to be anywhere but here.

It stung more than I cared to admit. I’d grown up listening to Metallica, and James was one of the reasons I started writing music in the first place. To share a stage with him was supposed to be a dream come true, but he seemed intent on treating me like I didn’t belong.

Still, I pushed those thoughts aside and threw myself into the music. I wasn’t going to let one grumpy guitarist ruin this experience.

During a break, Slash sauntered over, grinning as he plucked at his guitar. "You know, James, some of us are jealous of you. Not everyone gets to play with her."

Joe Elliot chimed in, slapping James on the back. "Yeah, lucky bastard. She’s got the voice, the charm, and she’s easy on the eyes too."

I laughed awkwardly, feeling my cheeks heat. James, however, just shrugged them off, muttering, "She’s just another singer." His tone was dismissive, and the guys exchanged a look, clearly amused by his gruffness.

“Well, don’t let that stick up your ass ruin your day,” Slash teased, earning a chuckle from Joe.

James rolled his eyes and walked off, leaving me standing there with a mix of embarrassment and irritation. Was he always like this, or had I done something to annoy him without realizing it?

The sinking feeling in my stomach grew worse when I heard him talking to Lars. I’d only gone backstage to grab my water bottle, but their conversation was hard to miss.

Lars nudged him with a knowing smirk. "What do you think of Y/N?"

James scoffed. "She’s just another overrated singer for sad chicks," he said dismissively.

Lars chuckled, though it sounded uncomfortable. “Come on, man. She’s good.”

“Yeah? Bet she slept with some producer to get that record deal,” James replied, his tone dripping with scorn.

I froze. My hands clenched around the bottle as his words settled like lead in my chest. I’d worked so damn hard to get here, poured my heart and soul into my music, and that was what he thought of me?

Part of me wanted to confront him, to demand why he’d say something so cruel, but another part knew it wasn’t worth it. This was one of the biggest nights of my career. I wasn’t about to let James Hetfield ruin it.

The next evening, the concert hall was packed. The energy from the crowd was electric, and I could feel their anticipation as I walked onto the stage. When the opening notes of “Who Wants to Live Forever” echoed through the venue, I poured every ounce of emotion into the song. Freddie deserved nothing less, and neither did the audience.

The lights bathed the stage in a soft glow, and as I sang, I let my voice rise and fall with the haunting melody. The orchestra swelled behind me, their notes blending seamlessly with James’s steady rhythm guitar. For a moment, it felt like the entire world had stopped to listen. The audience’s silence was palpable, a testament to the power of the song.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw James watching me as he played. His expression was unreadable, but for once, it wasn’t cold or dismissive. Not that it mattered. I’d given up trying to impress him.

The performance ended with thunderous applause, and backstage, everyone was celebrating. Slash gave me a high five, Joe hugged me, and even Brian May told me I’d done Freddie proud. It should’ve been the perfect night.

But then James approached me.

“Hey,” he said, his voice quieter than I expected.

I turned, my smile faltering. “What do you want?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. “I just… I wanted to say you were amazing out there. I didn’t realize how talented you are.”

I blinked, my heart twisting. Was he serious? After everything he’d said?

“You didn’t realize?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. “That’s funny, because yesterday you made it pretty clear what you think of me. Or did you forget saying I’m an overrated singer who slept with a producer to get here?”

His face paled. “You heard that?”

“Yeah, I did. And for the record, I never slept with any producer, everything I got it’s only because of my hard work.  I wanted to talk to you, because you’ve always been one of my favorite singers. I also wanted to talk to you,  to get to know you. But now?” I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I want nothing to do with you.”

I walked away before he could respond.

I thought that was the end of it, but later that night, Brian May found me sitting alone in one of the dressing rooms. He gave me a kind smile, pulling up a chair.

“You were phenomenal tonight,” he said.

“Thank you,” I replied softly.

He hesitated before continuing. “I spoke to James. He’s… well, he’s realized he made a mess of things. He wouldn’t tell me exactly what happened, but he’s clearly beating himself up over it.”

“Good,” I said flatly, though my heart wasn’t in it.

Brian chuckled. “I don’t blame you for being upset. But James isn’t the best with words, and he’s not used to admitting when he’s wrong. He asked me to see if you’d give him a chance to explain.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, Brian. He really hurt me.”

“I know,” he said gently. “But sometimes, people surprise you. At least hear him out. If you don’t like what he has to say, you never have to speak to him again.”

The next day, I met James in the hotel cafe. He looked nervous, which was oddly comforting. At least I wasn’t the only one feeling awkward.

“Thanks for coming,” he said as I sat down.

“Brian insisted,” I replied, crossing my arms. “So talk.”

He nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry for what I said. It was unfair and cruel, and you didn’t deserve that. The truth is, I was… jealous. You’ve accomplished so much so quickly, and I let my insecurities get the better of me. Instead of respecting you for your talent, I tried to tear you down. I’m really, really sorry.”

His honesty caught me off guard. I studied him, trying to gauge if he was being sincere. He looked genuinely remorseful, his eyes meeting mine without hesitation.

“Okay,” I said finally. “I’ll accept your apology. But if you ever talk about me like that again, we’re done. Got it?”

He nodded quickly. “Got it.”

We ended up staying for breakfast, and as the conversation shifted to music and life on the road, I saw a different side of James. He was funny, self-deprecating, and surprisingly kind. I couldn’t resist slipping in a bit of my usual humor.

“So, Mr. Hetfield,” I teased, “is that your version of a heartfelt apology? Because I’d give it a solid six out of ten. Room for improvement.”

He smirked, his confidence creeping back. “Six out of ten? I’ll have to work harder next time. But you’ve got to admit, I made you laugh.”

“A little,” I said, holding up my fingers to show a small gap. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

We talked about everything—music, touring, even the weirdest fan encounters we’d had. James opened up about the challenges of staying grounded in the music industry, and I shared my own stories of navigating sudden fame. It felt easy, natural, and for the first time since the rehearsals started, I genuinely enjoyed his company.

As we finished our coffee, I hesitated, then leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for breakfast,” I said softly.

He blinked, clearly startled, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the faint pink tint rising to his cheeks. “Can we meet again?” he asked, his voice more tentative than I expected. “I really enjoyed spending time with you. You’re… an interesting girl.”

It was my turn to blush. I ducked my head, feeling my cheeks heat. “Sure,” I said, smiling. “I’d love to. I had a great time too.”

As we stood to leave, he held the door open for me, and I couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe—this was the start of something new.

[transmascposi]

I feel really isolated because I hardly see any trans masculine positivity posts,,,, The only posts I see,, that are even shared by my own friends,,, are those that are complaining about trans mascs and how we're evil, ugly, and ruining the trans community,,,, I don't know what I did wrong besides simply exist as a trans masculine person,,, I still face misogyny and now I'm facing transphobia from my own friends,,, I even had to block somebody who said 'I have never found trans males to be sexually attractive' and instead of people telling them that's transphobic everyone was agreeing with them,,, I don't know where to turn anymore because everyone hates trans men so badly,,,, plus it's interesting that ppl will say how much they hate trans men but then fetishize our bodies,,,

I feel you. It's so lonely and difficult sometimes. It can feel like the whole world hates you. But I promise it's not like that. There's a lot of people who love us, really.

I'm sorry this is happening to you. You didn't do anything wrong. And even if you did, it wouldn't justify this treatment. You are valid and amazing and you bring so much beauty to the world and to the queer community. I had to cut off a few internet friends who hated on trans men and I don't regret it one bit. If they hate trans masculine people, I suggest cutting these people off. They are not good friends to you.

My advice is to try to spend less time online. The hate is much more concentrated here, and it's much more openly vicious. We certainly do have bad things happening to us in real life, but from my experience at least, the hate online is on another level. There are encounters that we can't really prevent in real life, but you can control the majority of your interactions online. I suggest avoiding the hate as much as you can, even if it means not spending time on your favorite platform. It can seem like I'm stating the obvious and I probably am, but at the same time, when I struggled a lot with online hate on trans mascs, I would keep spending time in trans masc spaces on tumblr that are full of this hate. I think we have the tendency to dwell in the hate, for whatever reason. To reblog it to argue with it, to keep repeating the same points to people who don't care about the truth, to try to counter the lie that trans mascs have it easy by witnessing the hate as a getcha. I'm not saying that you do this necessarily, but I definitely did it.

My second advice is to go out and meet people who understand and support you. A wonderful way to do that is activism. If you can, join your local trans activist group! You don't have to have inspiring speeches on big podiums and argue with people. You can help with small practical tasks — those people are very much needed and appreciated! Or you can find your local queer events and go there. It can be intimidating at first, especially if you go alone, but there's always someone a little bit lost at these events. People get it. Again, it definitely can be very difficult, but try to talk to some trans people there. Or anyone, really. You will find out that there's a lot of people who support and get us. And people who might not fully understand yet, but they want to try and they want to help. Even these imperfect encounters will warm your heart enough to forget a little about all the hate, even just for a moment. And being in activist circles and hearing people say your exact thoughts out loud — oh man it's SO satisfying. These people don't even have to be your friends. I'm trying to be an activist and there are people who I have fun with and who give me a sense of community — yet I don't meet them outside of activism stuff because I know we aren't a good match to be friends. And yet, their existence in my life brings me a lot of warmth. Building community is the key, really.

I wish you the best of luck and strength and I hope you will feel better soon.

[zaebeecee]

It's Nothing Serious

Secret Santa 2024 ••

Alastor and Anthony have been sharing a dorm for over a year. When Alastor comes up with a project for his social psychology class, it's only natural that he would ask Anthony for his help; after all, who else does he trust more? And besides, it isn't like fake dating has ever gone off the rails in the past, right?

Content: fake relationship, human versions, everyone is old enough to do the stuff mentioned within, drinking, trans Angel Dust, HRT involving needles, fluff and corny romance shit, implied spicyness, a whole lot of characters for a one-shot, Christmas-adjacent situations

•••

Here's my gift for the lovely @luciferfemme for the RadioDust 2024 Secret Santa gift exchange! Fun fact: they made the post that was my primary inspiration for Loveless Bond, for which I remain deeply grateful. Anyway, here you are, darling. Hope you like it!

•••

Six feet tall. Thirty-six years old. Outdated photo of him and his fraternity buddies as the only picture on his profile.

Swipe left on that one.

Five foot eleven. Twenty-nine. Fishing picture, fishing picture, fishing picture, just a dog, fishing picture.

Cute dog, but I don’t wanna hear how big his last catch was all through dinner. Left.

No fats, femmes, or Asians.

Fuck you, buddy. How do I mark a guy as ‘hate’?

Twenty-one.

Like Hell you are, you could be my father.

“Looks like pretty slim pickings in the dating market these days.”

“Holy shit!” Anthony jerked in surprise, nearly throwing his phone right into his dorm mate’s face as he spun around and slipped off the couch. He landed on his ass with a sharp yelp, which only made the guy above him start laughing harder. “Where the fuck did you come from?!”

“Louisiana,” Alastor said with a wide grin, his arms loosely folded on the back of their couch as he leaned over to watch Anthony pull himself up off the floor.

“Ha ha, asshole,” Anthony grumbled. “I thought you were at the library.”

“I was,” Alastor said, straightening up and rounding the couch to plop down next to the other young man. “But it’s the beginning of the semester, Angel, I hardly have that much work to do.”

Anthony snorted. “Since when have you ever gone to the library for legitimate reasons?”

Alastor’s smile sharpened that way it did whenever he was plotting something, and Anthony frowned, leaning away instinctively. In the year that they had known each other, Anthony—Angel Dust, to his close friends—had learned how to interpret many of Alastor’s more enigmatic expressions. When they had first met at the start of Anthony’s first semester at college, introduced to each other as new students who would be sharing a dorm, Alastor had immediately made quite an impression: he was handsome, he was mysterious, he was scary, and he was incredibly unavailable (as made perfectly clear by his laughter when Anthony’s first words to him had been some sort of proposition). It hadn’t taken Anthony long to realize that Alastor simply wasn’t interested in anyone or anything that way; however, it quickly became obvious that it was nothing like homophobia or prudishness, as he had no shortage of time to listen to complaints about the men Anthony was seeing nor lack of scathing opinions on each one of those men.

By the end of the first semester, Anthony and Alastor had become very close friends, to the point that they willingly agreed to remain together in the Spring. Now, in Anthony’s third semester, he had been given the option to move off-campus into an apartment or a house, but he’d elected to stay so that Alastor (who was on scholarship and unable to afford to live outside the dorms) wouldn’t have to get used to a new roomie.

Alastor had been surprised when Anthony told him this, but he had recovered quickly and said something to the effect of ‘I knew you would’. But he was happy about it, and no amount of smug posturing would convince Anthony otherwise.

“So, are we on the hunt for a new beau already?” Alastor asked, leaning around as though trying to look at Anthony’s phone again. The screen was off, but Anthony pulled it against his chest anyway. “I would think you’d be more concerned with your studies this semester, considering how abysmal you failed Calculus this past Spring.”

“Shut up,” Anthony said. “I ain’t lookin’ for a boyfriend, and I ain’t even after a hookup, necessarily. Just seein’ how the pool’s changed in the past few months. Ain’t gotten any better.”

Alastor scoffed, leaning one arm on the back of the couch and smirking at him. “I told you, most anyone you’ll find on those apps are going to be scum, because anyone who’s worth dating won’t be resorting to relying on them.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and turning his head away. “I’m not gonna give you the satisfaction of callin’ you right.” Alastor didn’t answer. “Wipe that stupid grin off your face.”

“You aren’t even looking at me.”

“I can feel it.” Anthony picked up one of their mismatched couch pillows and smacked Alastor in the side of the head with it. The other boy cackled, shielding himself ineffectually with his arms. “Besides, it’s lookin’ like layin’ off the scene will be for the best right now. Feels like half the guys on here are chasers, and the other half got some kinda ‘you’d better not be trans if you message me’ disclaimer right at the top. I don’t wanna deal with that shit right now.”

“Hm.” Alastor’s smile changed to something Anthony might have called a little bit sympathetic, but then, he shrugged. “Their loss,” he said. “Seems like they’d simply feel insecure about you having more testosterone than them.” Anthony laughed, and Alastor’s grin returned. “If you’re going to be off the market anyway, I suppose I should do what I can to make sure you don’t get lonely.”

Anthony smirked, wiggling his eyebrows briefly. “You propositioning me, Al?”

“What– no, stop that,” Alastor said quickly, color rising to his face as he pointed a single threatening finger and ignored Anthony’s cackle. “What I’m saying,” he said, loudly enough that Anthony’s laughter died down, “is that I have a project this semester, and I think it’s something you could help me with, if you’re amenable.”

“Does this involve me losin’ a finger or somethin’?”

“There is a non-zero chance, but it’s highly unlikely.”

Anthony frowned. “...I ain’t agreein’ to nothin’ until you tell me what it is.”

“Fine,” Alastor said, rolling his eyes. “I’m taking a class for my social psych minor this semester, Social Influence and Behavior. Essentially, studying the way that people react to others in social settings and the ways changes in one individual might influence changes in another.”

“We both know I ain’t got a clue what the fuck you’re talkin’ about.”

Alastor leveled him with a look. “How one or two people acting weird can make the people around them act weird.”

“Oh, okay. I follow.”

“I thought you might. We were tasked with conducting an informal study over the course of the semester, the subject of which is up to our discretion. I thought you would be perfect to help me out with mine, since it’s… well. It’s fucking with our social circle and seeing how they respond.”

Anthony giggled. “Ooh, that sounds fun. A semester-long prank. Sure, I’m down, what are you thinkin’?”

Either Alastor suddenly looked a little bashful, or Anthony was imagining things. “Well, that’s… part of the reason I wanted to ask you, rather than anyone else,” he said, his voice as hesitant as Alastor’s ever got. “Most of my behavior isn’t considered unusual for me, and I was having trouble thinking of something I could do that the others would view as out of the ordinary. The best option that I landed on was dating someone.”

Anthony’s eyebrows went up. “Dating someone?”

“You see?” Alastor gestured at him with one hand. “You’re surprised by the mere suggestion! It would be perfect!”

“So… wait.” Anthony held his own hands up. “Wait wait wait. Are you asking– I mean, what are you asking?”

“Don’t worry, it wouldn’t be really dating,” Alastor said, and Anthony wasn’t sure if he felt relieved or not. “But you and I really are quite different, and I’m given to understand that sort of thing is subject to quite a bit of social scrutiny, not to mention the idea of me in a relationship is certain to absolutely baffle everyone who has ever met me. And it has the added benefit of the fact that I trust you implicitly and am fully aware that you would not take advantage of this position to my detriment, in addition to the fact that I can rely on you for answers to any questions I might have about how to proceed after a time.”

Anthony was silent for a moment. On the one hand, it was incredibly funny, imagining how their friends would respond to the idea of them being in a relationship. On the other hand, while Anthony would never admit it, he’d been fostering an incredibly annoying crush on Alastor for the past several months and it was only getting worse, a fact that most of their friends (particularly Husk and Cherry) were very adamant Anthony needed to stop immediately. On the other other hand (and didn’t he wish he had more than two sometimes), he couldn’t help feeling deeply touched that of everyone Alastor knew, Anthony was the one that he trusted enough to rely on for this.

Plus, this might get Valentino to leave me alone, so that’s another upside.

“Yeah, sure,” Anthony finally said. “Why the fuck not?”

Alastor did that thing that he did when he was both surprised and excited, the thing that made Anthony imagine he had two big animal ears that had just perked up on the top of his head. “Really?”

“Really,” Anthony laughed. “Sounds like fun, as long as you can handle it.”

Alastor’s expression shifted into a frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Should be pretty obvious,” Anthony said with a shrug. “The only way this is gonna work is if we don’t act outta character, right?” Alastor nodded. “So… that means you’ve gotta put up with physical contact from me.”

The very idea made Alastor’s body stiffen up visibly. “...you’re talking about public affection.”

“PDA, yeah.” Anthony tilted his head. “Look, nobody’s gonna believe I’m datin’ someone I never lay a finger on, and they won’t buy that you’re actually in a relationship with anyone if you won’t ever let them touch you. You know how physical I am, so if you weren’t willin’ to put up with that, why would we go out at all?”

Alastor sighed, relaxing. “...you make a fair point,” he said. “But I will be setting ground rules, and you will be respecting them.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got you, Smiles,” Anthony said. “Don’t worry, I ain’t gonna do nothin’ to make you uncomfortable intentionally, and I ain’t gonna do nothin’ without your consent. Just lettin’ you know that if you wanna sell this, we’re gonna have to commit.” He shrugged. “It’s like acting. Think of it as blocking.”

“...right,” Alastor said. “I can do that.”

“Cool. So…” Anthony hesitated. “Uh… when were you wanting to start?”

“As soon as possible.”

•••

“Good morning, everyone!”

The responses ranged from enthusiastic (Charlie) to barely a grunt of acknowledgement (Husk) as Alastor slung his bag over the back of a chair and lowered himself into it. Niffty leaned across the table, pushing a cup of coffee in front of him. “Here,” she said. “We ordered already. We got you your usual.”

“You’re a peach,” Alastor said, patting Niffty on the top of her head and picking up the coffee cup. She smiled, sinking back into her seat. The morning was crisp with just a touch of the scent of autumn in the air, barely detectable under the bouquet of smells coming from the cafe. While Alastor had always preferred studying on his own, he had to admit that he didn’t exactly mind getting roped into this little study group that Charlie insisted on hosting every Saturday morning. They always sat around the same large table together, Charlie paid for everyone with her father’s money (and Alastor didn’t mind wasting that), and it usually devolved into something more fun than simple school work.

“Where’s Angel?” Charlie asked. “He’s coming, right?”

“He’d better be, I ordered the bitch pancakes,” Cherry said.

“It’s a morning study session.” Pentious brushed his long hair back over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow at the table as a whole. “I don’t think Angel’s seen this side of an ante meridiem hour since he left high school and I’m not positive why any of you keep thinking he will.”

Husk snorted. “It’s a tossup,” he said. “He’ll either show up for free food or avoid it because it means work.”

“He’ll be here,” Alastor said. “Don’t worry.”

Rosie laughed. “What, did you wake him up before you left?”

“I threw things on him until he yelled at me, if that’s what you’re asking.”

No one was giving him any kind of unusual look (as far as he could determine), which was something of a relief; it meant that, no matter how Alastor might have been feeling in the moment, the others at the table weren’t suspicious of anything. It wasn’t that Alastor was nervous—what reason did he have to be nervous? It was only Anthony, and they had known each other for over a year at this point—but, as the one with no experience on how romantic relationships were supposed to be conducted at various points, he was incredibly uncertain as to what he was supposed to expect. Anthony had promised him, repeatedly, that he would do his best to keep from making Alastor uncomfortable while simultaneously doing his part to make their little scheme believable, but that told him absolutely nothing about what Anthony might actually do.

Of course, the fact did remain that he trusted Anthony. When they had first met, Alastor had noted his friendliness, and the moment he registered that it was flirting and had expressed his personal distaste for such things, Anthony had stopped immediately. In fact, outside of a handful of exceptions (bumping into each other in their tiny kitchen, grabbing Alastor by the hand when his bad leg gave out and he nearly fell down the stairs outside the library, that one time he’d helped with a particularly stubborn cuff button that Alastor simply could not fasten one-handed), Anthony had taken pains not to make any physical contact with Alastor whatsoever. Despite his friend’s reputation around campus and in various social circles, Alastor had always found him respectful with his hands, even if he had no idea how to control his mouth.

“Oh, there he is! Hi, Angel!” Charlie said, interrupting Alastor’s thoughts. She raised her hand and he followed the line of her gaze to Anthony, who returned the wave with one hand before he lowered it to stifle a yawn. He headed for the table, letting his bag drop onto the floor and slumping into the chair next to Alastor.

“Morning, princess,” Alastor said with a smirk, watching Anthony scrub his face with both hands. “Long night?”

“Nnh. Sleepy. Coffee.”

Niffty began sliding another coffee across the table, but she froze the moment Anthony leaned over and laid his head on Alastor’s shoulder. Alastor jumped slightly, but Anthony remained still, giving him time to adjust to the sensation without giving away their game immediately. It actually wasn’t that bad, after the initial shock of the touch; as a matter of fact, Anthony was actually pretty gentle as he leaned against him, and the white hair brushing against Alastor’s cheek was soft, but not in a way that tickled or irritated.

Is this what it feels like? I can do this.

Alastor leaned to the side as well, pressing his cheek against the top of Anthony’s head before the other young man could move away. “Well, sha, if you’d gotten up when I told you I was getting ready, you could have walked with me and had coffee sooner.”

“Okay, Mr. My Hair And Clothes Always Look Perfect With Zero Effort. Some of us actually have to work to look presentable.”

“…uhm… here, Angel, we got you coffee too,” Niffty finally said, pushing the mug towards him. She was still staring wide-eyed, and Alastor was fairly positive she hadn’t blinked once.

“Oh my god, you’re perfect.”

While Anthony sat up to wrap both hands around the mug and take a careful sip, Alastor took the opportunity to take a quick glance around. Everyone was staring, a variety of expressions on their faces, but no matter what they were thinking it was quite clear that everyone was confused. Alastor kept his usual smile in place; it was really hard not to laugh when Charlie started to ask a tentative question only to get cut off by the arrival of their food.

Alastor turned his head again at a tugging on his sleeve. “Yes, sha?”

“What’d you get?” Anthony asked, his gaze fixed on Alastor’s bowl of pecan oatmeal like he had no idea what it was.

Immediately, he was hit with sudden inspiration. Instead of answering, Alastor got a small mouthful on his spoon and held it up. “Want some?”

Anthony nodded before opening his mouth, instantly reminding Alastor of a baby bird. Alastor fed him the spoonful (he had seen insufferable couples do that in public before), and Anthony ate it happily, humming one of those little songs he hummed when he thought something tasted really good.

“…so…” Charlie finally said. Alastor looked her direction, and was gratified to see that Husk was staring, his mouth slightly open and his face frozen in an expression of confusion that didn’t know if it wanted to be angry or not. “What, um… what’s going on with you two?”

“Going on?” Alastor asked, his smile widening. “My dear Charlie, whatever makes you think there’s something going on?”

“You don’t share food,” Vaggie said, gesturing between them sharply, her brow furrowed.

Rosie held one hand up, her wrist going limp instantly. “You two aren’t actually… y’know…”

“Of course they aren’t,” Cherri said immediately.

“They aren’t what?” Pentious asked, looking around the table quickly. “What? What’s happening?”

Alastor shrugged, looking at Anthony. “You want to tell them?”

“I like makin’ them wonder.” Anthony giggled a little before rolling his eyes. “Okay, fine. Yeah, we’re datin’, you wanna make somethin’ of it?”

Instantly, Niffty muffled a squeal with her hands, and Husk quite confidently said, “Bullshit,” while Cherri almost shrieked the word ‘bitch’ in shock before vaulting out of her chair and running over to start berating Anthony for not calling her (though why he would have was beyond Alastor; he’d have to ask once they were alone).

“When did this happen?” Charlie asked, her eyes wide and her voice doing that ‘I’m about to burst with excitement’ vibrating thing it did before she burst into happy tears.

“Last night,” Alastor said. “I’m sorry, were we supposed to take out space for an announcement in the campus newsletter?”

“No, no, of course not!” Charlie said, waving her hands in front of her face. “I just— I’m happy for you!”

“…thank you?”

“Ignore them, darling,” Rosie said with a casual wave of her hand. “I’ll simply say it’s about fucking time and let it drop.”

Alastor narrowed his eyes at her, which just made her smile grow. “What is about fucking time, exactly?”

“No no, too late, I dropped it. Niffty knows what I mean.”

He turned to squint at Niffty, who still had her hands clasped over her mouth and was nodding furiously. Alastor narrowed his eyes further. “…have we been the subject of gossip?”

“Uh, duh,” Niffty said finally. “And if you weren’t always so damn mysterious, we wouldn’t have to do that!”

As Alastor was processing this, he felt a knuckle thump his shoulder. He turned to look up at Husk, who was looking down at him with an unreadable expression. “Can I talk to you?”

Alastor glanced down at where Husk had tapped him, then back up; normally, that was enough to get him to back down, but he didn’t budge. “Of course.”

He excused himself and followed Husk out the front door, then around to the side of the building where they couldn’t be observed. Once out of sight, Husk turned to him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“At the moment? Being systematically prevented from consuming my most important meal of the day.”

“Cut the shit, Alastor. You know what I mean.”

Alastor held his hands out as he shrugged. “I don’t understand why you’re being so difficult, Husker. Angel is a perfectly delightful young man. Is there something so wrong with someone wishing to pursue a relationship with him?”

“Normally, no,” Husk said, raising an eyebrow. “But this is you that we’re talking about. You aren’t capable of doing things without ulterior motives.”

“You know me so well.” Alastor didn’t let his smile slip. “What’s next, going to tell me that if I break his heart you’ll break my kneecaps?”

Husk scoffed. “No. Angel’s gonna be in arm’s reach of you, he’ll kill you just fine by himself. But if you’re playing some kind of game, you really might want to rethink this, because while we won’t interfere with whatever he decides to do on his own, his siblings might.”

Oh. Shit. I didn’t think about them.

Anthony’s twin sister, Maria, and older brother, Bernardino—affectionately known as “Molly” and “Arackniss” in their little circle— were textbook examples of avoiding even the pretense of subtlety. While much of Anthony’s speech and behavior could be written off as just him being from New York, Molly had been described as “a Long Island princess who might have a gun in her purse at any given moment”, and Arackniss always sounded like he was a sentence away from threatening to give someone a pair of cement shoes. Alastor wasn’t afraid of them, of course; no, he had only ever feared one person in his life, and that honor belonged to his beloved mother. However, Anthony had made it painfully clear that, whatever issues he had with his siblings (particularly Arackniss), they were his problems and anyone who fucked with his siblings would be very unlikely to see the next morning.

Alastor wasn’t afraid of Anthony, either, but that didn’t change the fact that the thought of upsetting him was deeply unpleasant.

Apparently, he had been quiet too long, because Husk’s expression flattened out into something closer to derisive disbelief. “You didn’t even think about it, did you?”

“I deeply appreciate your concern, Husker,” Alastor said, skirting around the question and laying his hands on either of Husk’s shoulders. “But you have nothing at all to fret about! I know exactly what I’m doing, and Anthony is perfectly capable of handling his family on his own.”

Husk sighed, rolling his eyes. “Your funeral, brother.”

When they returned to the table, Anthony gave Alastor a curious look, but Alastor waved to him, their signal for ‘I’ll tell you later’ when either of them had gossip that needed to be discussed privately. The conversation redirected itself almost immediately, for which Alastor was grateful. He enjoyed being the center of attention, of course, but being barraged with questions made it infinitely harder to just sit and observe his surroundings. That was, after all, the point of all of this.

As they were all getting up to leave, Anthony said, “C’mon, babe. I need some new threads and you said you’d give me your most cuttin’ and brutal opinions.”

Alastor had said nothing of the sort, but he knew coded language when he heard it. “Of course, sha.” He waved to the others, all of whom were staring as they left the cafe together and began walking in the direction of the nearby shopping center. Once they were far enough away and Alastor had determined they weren’t being tailed, he allowed himself a small cackle. “That went well.”

Anthony giggled. “Shit, no kidding. I expected a reaction, but fuck. …hehe.”

Alastor frowned at him. “…what?”

“Butt fuck,” Anthony repeated.

Perplexed, Alastor continued to stare until recognition hit him. “You are hopelessly foul and I hope you walk in front of an oncoming bus.”

This time, Anthony’s laugh was full and genuine. “I’m draggin’ you with me, bitch!” He then directed that smile onto Alastor. “So… I know you didn’t actually agree to shop with me, but d’you mind comin’ anyway? I’ll buy you a soft pretzel.”

Somewhere deep inside, Alastor thought, You don’t have to bribe me, sha. I can’t say no when you give me that smile.

It was a ridiculous thought, but it was far from the first time it had crossed Alastor’s mind, so he dismissed it. “Oh, very well,” he said, playing up the visage of being put-upon enough that no one could mistake it for true reluctance. “I suppose I had nothing else to do, anyway.”

This was going to be a lot of fun, Alastor decided. He couldn’t wait to see everyone’s faces when they learned the whole thing had been a ruse.

•••

Word travels real fuckin’ fast, apparently.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell us!”

Anthony rolled his eyes visibly as he continued putting away the clothes Alastor had helped him pick out. Molly and Arackniss had been waiting outside their dorm room when they returned, and the moment Alastor registered their presence, he suddenly remembered he had something to do in the library and ran away (like a goddamn coward) before either of them noticed him. Naturally, they had started badgering Anthony instantly, following him into the dorm and hardly pausing for breath, let alone any kind of explanation.

Molly wrapped her arms around her legs, glaring up at him. “What, you think you can just not tell us and we won’t find out? That it?”

“If that’s what it was, I wouldn’t never text either of you,” Anthony said, carefully cutting the tag off of a shirt he had decided he wouldn’t be returning. “I was gonna tell you.”

Arackniss scoffed, not straightening up from where he was leaning against the wall next to Anthony’s closet. “Sure you were, Tony,” he said sarcastically.

“I was!” Anthony countered, flinging an empty shopping bag at his brother. “It happened late last night, I had study bullshit this morning, ain’t like I’ve been keepin’ it for weeks or somethin’.”

He could practically hear his siblings exchanging looks behind his back as he put hangars up in his closet. “...you went to a study session,” Molly said finally.

“Yeah.”

“You. Went to a study session.”

“Yes,” Anthony said, carefully controlling his voice so he wasn’t snapping at her. “You’re actin’ like I ain’t never studied a day in my life.”

“Well… not on purpose, anyway,” Arackniss said.

Before Anthony could counter, Molly said, “Didn’t you say he don’t do… y’know. Sex and stuff?”

Anthony frowned at her over his shoulder. “...yeah,” he said. “Not that it’s any of your business. What’s your point?”

“Well…” Molly looked at Arackniss.

He picked up on whatever signal it was, taking over from her. “Tony, you ain’t never dated anybody in your life, and now you’re sayin’ you’re exclusive with a guy who doesn’t even like sex?”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “I don’t care,” he said. “He told me he don’t mind if I keep up my cam work, and anyway, ain’t there more to a relationship than just fuckin’ all the time?”

“Well… yeah,” Arackniss said.

“We’re just surprised you think that,” Molly added.

Anthony turned to them and held up his hands. ‘Y’know what? Fuck both of you,” he said; he didn’t put any real heat in the words, and just looking at their expressions told him they didn’t take it seriously. “I like him, and he likes me, and I don’t give a shit about anything else. And even if it wasn’t for that, I’d stay with him just to piss you off.”

Molly actually giggled at that. “Sounds about right. And I’m guessin’ the aneurysm Ma’d have about you bringin’ home a boyfriend—”

“Who’s both southern and black,” Arackniss interjected.

“—don’t hurt your decision none, either.”

Anthony cackled. “She’s gonna be so pissed, and don’t get me started on Pop.”

“Well, they won’t disown you,” Arackniss said thoughtfully. “I was fuckin’ certain they would when you started your transition. Pops still asks me if you’ve stopped ‘that testosterone shit’ every time we  talk.”

Anthony raised his eyebrow. “And?”

“I say no. And then I call you Tony and he hangs up on me.”

He snorted, grinning. If he actually liked his parents, that would have been incredibly painful to hear. Instead, while his parents’ actions made him mad, listening to how his siblings handled it always filled him with a sense of bitter satisfaction. “Ain’t you the best big brother.”

“You fuckin’ know it.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” Molly asked. “You got bad taste in men, Tony, and a guy like him…”

“I’m sure,” Anthony said. He meant it, too, but in a much different way than either Molly or Arackniss were taking it. Did he really like Alastor enough to put up with this?

…yeah. He did. And that wasn’t going to cause any problems in the future, because he wouldn’t let it. He valued Alastor’s trust and friendship too much to let it.

•••

Alastor had known there would be… reactions, to put it mildly, when news got out that he and Anthony were ‘dating’. In fact, he had been counting on it; otherwise, how was he going to get any sort of data for his project? He simply hadn’t been expecting so many reactions to be quite so visceral or loud.

That study breakfast had only been the first social hurdle. Over the next month, he’d been yelled at by Vox (who’d had a strangely passionate reaction to the news, and for the life of him, Alastor couldn’t figure out why he was so upset), threatened with extreme bodily harm by Valentino, stalked through the library and the rest of the campus by Blitzø and his three little cohorts, aggressively grilled by both Molly and Arackniss, and been stared at by Zestial with an intensity he could feel from the other side of the quad.

It was still funny, of course, but for some reason, it was also sort of… bothering him? Annoying him? He wasn’t sure the phrase that best communicated how he was feeling, just that there was something unpleasant about everyone behaving as though he wasn’t good enough to be Anthony’s boyfriend. Fake relationship or not, it was hard not to take that kind of thing personally.

Maybe that was why, in mid October, he finally broke down and grabbed his phone to make a call.

He was laying on his bed with his head at the foot, turned onto his side with his phone resting on the side of his head without either hand keeping it in place. It freed them up to allow him to pick at the cheap comforter he broke out once it started getting too cold in the building. The phone rang twice in his ear before he heard a click, followed by the soft, comforting sound of a controlled alto voice. “Hello, Alastor.”

“Hi, maman,” Alastor said, unable to keep a smile off his face. “Catch you at a bad time?”

“Nah. Just gettin’ some packages ready for the store this week,” she answered. Just the sound of her Louisiana drawl was soothing after so many unpleasant conversations. “Somethin’s botherin’ you.”

It wasn’t a question, but Alastor still asked, “What makes you think something is wrong?”

“You never call this late unless you got somethin’ on your mind, kiddo.”

He sighed. Either she was too perceptive or he was growing too predictable. It might have been both, for all he knew. “I… did something, and I wanted to tell you about it.”

There was a soft, distant thud, and he could tell his mother had just put down whatever was in her hand. “I’m not gettin’ another letter from your school,” she said; it was almost a question, but it might as well have been a threat.

“No, no, nothing like that.” Alastor hesitated, pulling on a thread in his comforter until it snapped. “I… asked someone out.”

A very long pause followed that, long enough that he almost asked if she was still there. “Is that so?” his mother asked finally. “You went on a date?”

Alastor shook his head, even though she couldn’t hear it. “It’s complicated, but no. I mean we’re dating.”

“I see.” Another pause. “It’s Anthony, isn’t it?”

Alastor put his hand on his phone and sat up. “How the hell—”

“Oh, please, Alastor.” He could sense her rolling her eyes at him. “After everythin’ you’ve told me ‘bout that boy, I knew if you’d be askin’ anyone out, it’d be him.”

He wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. He wanted to say that it was a fake relationship, or… something, he didn’t know what. “...do you think I’m making a mistake?” he asked instead.

“Who knows?” He could hear her chopping something on a cutting board. “But I’ve told you before and I’ll tell you again, you can’t wait to know if everythin’ you’re gonna do is gonna end up goin’ well. Maybe it’s a mistake. Maybe it’s not. You won’t know until you do it.”

That was a good point, but Alastor wasn’t going to tell her that.

“Are you happy?”

Was he? Alastor thought for a long moment. It wasn’t something he had really considered, always having considered himself fairly content with his life so long as his decisions were just that: his own decisions. Did that mean he was happy? “...yeah,” he said, his voice soft with the realization that he wasn’t lying. “I am.”

“That’s all I care about. I’m happy for you, baby.”

The rest of the conversation was fairly standard, Alastor asking about how things were back home and his mother asking about his studies. When they said goodbye, he realized he actually felt a lot better. He hadn’t realized how much he needed just a little bit of approval. Everything seemed considerably lighter as he got up and left his small room, heading over to knock on Anthony’s door. “Hey, Angel,” he called. “You in there?”

“Yep. C’mon in, ain’t locked.”

Alastor let himself in, opening the door to see Anthony sitting in the middle of his bed with his medication box open in front of him. “Oh. HRT. Bad time?”

Anthony shook his head, drawing his dose out of the bottle. “Nah, s’long as you don’t mind watchin’ me stab myself.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem.” When Anthony gestured to the bed, Alastor sat down, looking over his supplies. “Need any help?”

Anthony glanced at him. “...you any good at givin’ shots?”

“I… have done it before,” Alastor hedged. “Why?”

“Because gettin’ it in my arm hurts less, but I gotta hold the skin taut, so I can’t do it by myself. Usually gotta do it in the thigh and sometimes it bleeds a lot.”

Alastor tilted his head. “...would you like me to give you your shot?”

“If you don’t mind, yeah.”

“You trust me to do that?”

Anthony raised an eyebrow at him. “If you hurt me on purpose, I’ll stab you with my drawin’ needle myself.”

Alastor chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Anthony showed him the proper place to stab, and Alastor held the skin as taut as he could, carefully slipping the needle straight into the muscle just below his shoulder. Anthony sucked in a breath, but he didn’t make any noise of pain, so Alastor made sure he wasn’t drawing blood before he slowly pushed the plunger down. Anthony made another sound, one that made Alastor feel a little strange, and he aggressively pushed the thought out of his mind as he removed the needle. “All done. Bandage?”

“Here,” Anthony said, offering one out to him. “Thanks.”

“Of course.” Alastor removed the little round adhesive bandage and carefully covered the puncture wound. Then, on something of a whim, he leaned forward and kissed the spot. “There you go.”

When he sat up, Anthony was actually blushing. “Uh… thanks,” he said, his voice uncertain.

Alastor felt his own face heating up. Why did I do that? He refused to let it show in his expression or voice, just smiling as he stood up. “You have early class tomorrow. You should get to bed.”

Anthony groaned. “I can’t believe you talked me into taking an 8 AM class,” he complained, not for the first time. “You’re the literal worst.”

Alastor’s smile widened. “I am, aren’t I?”

Anthony flipped him off and Alastor laughed as he left the room, closing the door behind him. He leaned against it for just a second, his hand still wrapped around the handle.

The fuck is wrong with me?

•••

A week after the HRT incident—Anthony wasn’t sure what else he should call it—he found himself in Alastor’s room, both of them sitting on his bed and idly playing gin without paying much attention to it. The cards were just something to do with their hands, most of their conversation focused on the latest gossip and talking about the various upcoming Halloween activities, such as several campus parties, the parade, and the massive haunted house that was always open the whole of Halloween week.

“You gonna go do anythin’ this year?” Anthony asked.

“I never do,” Alastor said, drawing a card from the deck and tossing one down.

Anthony smirked. “That’s why I’m askin’ this year. You wanna?”

He’d expected Alastor to buck at the suggestion, but instead, he looked thoughtful. “What did you have in mind?”

“Haunted house and Charlie’s party,” Anthony said. “Thought maybe, if you were down, we could do a couple’s costume and really weird people out.”

That actually made Alastor perk up. “Yes, absolutely, we’re doing that.”

Anthony laughed. “Great. We’ll go shoppin’ for stuff tomorrow, then.”

The silence that followed was thoughtful. Anthony had known Alastor had something on his mind for the whole evening (for the past week, really), but he wasn’t sure how to ask. It turned out he didn’t have to, though, because Alastor finally spoke again after almost ten minutes of playing cards in silence. “You’ve dated people before, right?”

“Hm? Yeah, kinda,” Anthony said. “Nothin’ that lasted more than a couple’a months, tho. Why?”

Alastor went into a much shorter thoughtful silence. If Anthony didn’t know better, he’d say he was hesitating. “Do you…” Alastor began, then shook his head and started over. “What do you usually do when you’re dating someone? And you don’t have to spare me details just because of my delicate constitution.”

Anthony grinned at that. “Well… we go out, like you and I’ve been doin’. But the dates ain’t usually so frequent.”

Alastor frowned. “Your boyfriends ignored you?” he asked, actually sounding a little bit pissed off on his behalf.

“No, no. I mean… not exactly,” Anthony hedged. “More we didn’t… leave that often.”

“...Angel. I already told you, you don’t have to spare me details.”

“Okay, okay,” Anthony said. “We spent a whole lot more time either makin’ out or fuckin’ than we did goin’ out to dinner or whatever.”

Alastor was quiet for a moment. “...I see,” he said. “And that was… fun, to you?”

“Sure,” Anthony said with a shrug. “You know I like sex. I like kissin’, too. I mean, as long as the guy’s good at it,” he added with a faint sneer. “Why d’you ask?”

“Curiosity. Also, a desire to keep people from catching on,” Alastor said. “I mean… I had noticed those bruises on your neck after you had a successful night out.”

“I never cared if someone saw that I got hickies.” Anthony frowned at him. “...what are you sayin’, exactly?”

Alastor looked somewhat embarrassed. “Simply that it was incredibly common for you to have them, and if you continue to… not… won’t some people start getting suspicious?”

Anthony wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take this. “Alastor, people know you ain’t into this kinda thing. I don’t think people are gonna be suspicious because you didn’t spontaneously grow a libido.” Oddly, Alastor looked even more embarrassed, and now Anthony was positive he wasn’t aware of it. The other young man was actually ducking his head into his shoulders somewhat, and he was avoiding meeting Anthony’s eyes more than usual. Anthony hesitated, but… Fuck it, he thought. He told me to be direct. “Alastor, are you curious about makin’ out or somethin’?”

Alastor threw his hands up before he put his head in his hands, staring down at the cards in the discard pile. “I don’t know,” he groaned. “You’re confusing.”

“Me? The fuck did I do?”

“I don’t know,” Alastor repeated, more insistently. “I’d truly never contemplated this kind of thing before, but I… yes, I suppose I’m curious.” The aggressive way he said it made Anthony pretty sure he had to force it out.

“...you wanna make out?” Anthony asked, trying his best not to sound too hopeful.

Alastor laughed a little, but he didn’t raise his head. “I believe you said you enjoy that provided the guy is good at it, right?”

“You sayin’ you’re a bad kisser or somethin’?”

“I really wouldn’t know,” Alastor said dryly, raising his eyes just enough to give Anthony a single quirked eyebrow.

Anthony shrugged. “If you ain’t done it before, then you can’t say you’re not good.”

Alastor stared at him, like he wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “...you know, most people are bad at things the first time they do them.”

“Depends on how fast a learner they are.” When Alastor looked uncomfortable again, Anthony said, “I got a better idea.” Alastor raised his head once more as Anthony moved back to lean against Alastor’s pillow and headboard, then motioned to Alastor to come closer. “C’mere.”

Frowning, Alastor scooted over to him. “What, precisely, are we doing?”

“Cuddles.” When his best friend made a predictably skeptical face, Anthony continued, “All innocent, I promise. Hands above clothes. Won’t even touch your hair if you don’t want me to. Just a test to see how you feel about the closeness.”

“...well… alright.” When Alastor moved next to him, Anthony helped him get settled. They ended up with Anthony still on his back, one arm around Alastor’s shoulders, and Alastor on his side with his head on Anthony’s shoulder-chest-area and arm across his abdomen.

At first, Alastor was predictably stiff, holding himself like he was either ready to spring up at any second or like he was afraid of putting too much weight on Anthony. After a few moments, however, he began relaxing, and Anthony took the opportunity to place his hand on Alastor’s upper arm and carefully run his hand down to his elbow, then up to his shoulder, then back, making sure the touch was firm enough not to trigger unpleasant physical sensation. “How’s that?”

“Mmn,” Alastor said. There was a long pause. “Your sweater is soft.”

“Yep. You comfy?”

“Mhm.”

In minutes, all of Anthony’s fears of chasing Alastor off were replaced with the thought of never being able to get up ever again as his dorm mate gradually became almost dead weight on top of him. He managed to fish his phone out of his pocket, then found a decent YouTube playlist and set the phone up with its pop socket on Alastor’s little bedside table so they had something to do that didn’t require movement.

After nearly an hour, Alastor stopped responding to Anthony. He looked down and couldn’t resist smiling when he noticed that Alastor had fallen asleep, his cheek pressed against Anthony’s chest and his glasses threatening to fall off. Anthony carefully took the frames off his friend’s face, folded them, and set them on the table. He thought about slipping out and going back to his own room, but the moment he tried to move, Alastor’s grip tightened.

Ah well. Fuck it.

It really was comfortable, after all.

•••

It got to the point that they were cuddling every time they were alone.

At first, Alastor had felt the compulsion to make up excuses for his behavior—it was cold, it was more practical so they could read the same book, they were both tired and they could each lay on the couch that way—but eventually he stopped trying. The fact of the matter was simple: he liked it. Anthony never questioned him, thankfully, but he couldn’t help wondering if he was behaving too strangely. After all, this wasn’t supposed to be a real relationship, and sometimes Alastor felt like he was taking advantage of the situation. He had simply never really been in a position to be so close to someone on such a regular basis, particularly not someone he wanted to be close to, and now that Anthony had opened the door… Alastor had discovered he really, really liked the contact.

Snow was falling gently as the two of them left the dormitory together, the moonlight casting silvery light off the blankets of white all around them, illuminating their walk off campus and to the small neighborhood where Charlie, Vaggie, Niffty, and Cherri were all renting a house together. Alastor couldn’t help laughing as Anthony shivered, pulling his hat down over his ears and his scarf up over his face before tucking his hands into the pockets of his huge white coat. “Cold?” he asked mildly.

“Fuckin’ freezing,” Anthony answered.

“You’d think you’d be used to the cold,” Alastor observed; he was cold, too, but he was certainly handling it better than his friend. “Yankee and all that.”

“Yeah well it doesn’t work like that.”

Alastor chuckled. “I’m sure they’ll have cider and you can warm yourself up.”

“Mmn.” Anthony looked at him, curiosity obvious on every inch of what was visible of his face. “Semester ends next week.”

“That it does. You going home?”

“Only if I can’t come up with an excuse to go somewhere else,” Anthony said. “You?”

“Can’t,” Alastor said. “Don’t have the money to travel. The dean’s letting me stay in the dorm over the break. I don’t think I’m the only one who’s staying, anyway.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay with you,” Anthony said. “Unless you’re just dying to have the place to yourself.”

Alastor glanced at him, surprised. “Oh… no, not particularly,” he said. “You know I get bored when I’m left on my own for too long, anyway.”

Anthony laughed. “You’d go through all my shit.”

“I don’t know where half of your belongings have been. No thank you.”

“Shut up,” Anthony said, punching Alastor lightly in the shoulder. “...your project is due next week, I guess?”

Alastor hadn’t let himself think about it very much. “Yeah. I need to finish writing it this weekend.”

“Boring.”

There was something else Anthony wanted to ask, Alastor could almost taste it. He could probably guess what it was, too.

Are we going to tell people it was a prank tonight?

Alastor was glad he didn’t ask, because honestly, he wasn’t sure what answer he would have given.

The house was decorated to an almost nauseating degree with lights, winter-themed foliage, and various lawn decorations of both the inflatable and the non-inflatable varieties. The door was open before they got a chance to knock, and Charlie (beaming from ear to ear as usual) waved them in. “Hi guys! Come on in, come on, it’s freezing outside!”

“You said it,” Anthony said, stepping in past her and pulling off his hat and scarf. His cheeks and nose were all pink, and Alastor had the bizarre thought that it was very cute. “Sorry we’re late.”

“Oh, no, you aren’t,” Charlie said as she took both of their outerwear and hung them up. “Everybody’s in either the living room or the kitchen, and my dad’s here, and I already made him promise to behave so you’d better also behave or I’ll do something drastic,” she added, pointing at Alastor’s nose.

He felt himself go cross-eyed before he nipped lightly at the air towards her finger, making her withdraw her hand. “Like what?”

“Like telling your boyfriend on you,” Charlie said decisively.

Alastor wasn’t sure what to say to that. He settled on, “My, haven’t we grown unreasonably cruel.”

“I’ll beat him up for you, sweetheart, don’t worry,” Anthony said, giving Alastor a wink.

They headed into the room where the Yule party was just getting into swing. Alastor took a moment to absorb the scene: Husk, Cherri, Niffty, and Blitzø were in front of some kind of complicated-looking board game, but they looked more like they were arguing over it than actually playing, while Stolas sat behind Blitzø looking through the rules pamphlet like he was trying to make sense of it; Pentious was sitting in front of Vaggie’s record player, holding up different records to Millie and Moxxie (who were occupying the same chair) like he was getting opinions on what to play next; Vaggie and Luna were at the island connecting the kitchen to the living room and appeared to be doing Jell-O shots; and from the sound of things, everyone else was in the kitchen, which suited Alastor just fine.

He followed Anthony to the center of the room, returning greetings as they were noticed, but they didn’t get far before Rosie appeared and thrust cups of hot cider into both of their hands. “Here, you both look frozen to death,” she said.

“Thank you, my dear,” Alastor said. “How’s the drama this evening?”

“Woefully undramatic,” she said, looking incredibly disappointed. “But I’m sure something will crop up for us to talk about for the next month.”

Anthony grinned. “It better. That’s the only reason I come to this shit.” He leaned closer to her and added in a lower voice, “Then again, maybe someone should just make some drama.”

Rosie leaned in the same distance and responded in the same tone, “If I get my way, I will be.”

“Ooh, dish, what?”

She grinned. “Gonna sleep with Charlie’s dad.” Alastor immediately choked on his cider, and before he could form words, she waved. “Ta, boys,” she trilled, heading back for the kitchen.

“Rosie!” Alastor snapped at her retreating back. “You are a hussy!”

“No, darling, I’m a harlot!”

In spite of the warnings, threats, and threats disguised as warnings, the evening progressed rather smoothly. Niffty was imposing strict limits on the drinking to prevent anyone from getting out of control (“Do not wreck this house, we are renting it!”), which meant the arguing never went too far and no fights broke out, not even from Cherri. When Alastor and Lucifer finally did lay eyes on each other, it was from across the room, but with Anthony and Charlie to steer them away from each other, he didn’t get a chance to do more than tauntingly smirk at the pompous asshole. There were some other people there that Alastor didn’t know—apparently, they were Lucifer’s work friends, but Charlie referred to them as aunts and uncles, so he wasn’t sure what to think—but he managed to avoid interacting too much with strangers, which was usually the reason he didn’t go to parties.

Roughly three hours later, after people had eaten and were milling around again, Alastor found himself sitting on a couch with Blitzø on one side of him and Millie on the other, deep in a conversation about (of all things) French Impressionist film and halfway through his fourth glass of cider when he felt Blitzø nudge his arm with his elbow. “What?” he asked, looking down at him.

“Look,” was his only answer, nodding to somewhere on the other side of the room.

Alastor obliged, his eyes landing on Anthony, who was talking with Niffty (about her clothes, judging by both of their body language). “...it’s Angel,” he said, perplexed. “What’s your point?”

Blitzø rolled his eyes. “God, you’re a fucking dumbass,” he said. “Look, will you?”

He still had no idea what the other guy was on about when Millie went, “Ooooh, I see,” and immediately started giggling.

“What?” Alastor asked, when neither of them explained.

Almost immediately, he felt someone lean against the couch. “Hey, honey,” Moxxie said, leaning down to kiss Millie on the head. “What’s so funny?”

“Look,” Millie said unhelpfully, pointing subtly over at where Anthony and Niffty were standing.

Moxxie squinted at him. “I have no idea what you’re– oh, no, I see.”

“For fuck’s sake,” Alastor said, looking at Moxxie. “What are you three talking about?”

Fortunately for him, Moxxie was basically incapable of not sharing information when he knew something. “Look over his head.”

Alastor sighed, looked at Anthony, then looked up, and– Oh, he thought, color rising to his cheeks. “...isn’t mistletoe a little… corny?”

“Nah, I think it’s romantic,” Millie said, clasping her hands together at her chest. “Besides, y’know Charlie wouldn’t’a put it up if it weren’t supposed t’, y’know, inspire.”

Alastor rubbed the back of his neck, looking away. “I don’t– I mean, Angel probably wouldn’t… you know…”

“Are you kidding? You think Mr. PDA would get all embarrassed if you kissed him?” Blitzø asked skeptically. “Besides, he’s standing under it, he’s practically begging–”

“I swear t’ god Blitzø if you say he’s askin’ for it I will eat yer kneecaps.”

“Well, he is!”

“You could always just ask,” Moxxie told Alastor as the other two immediately started bickering about ‘appropriate language’. “And if you aren’t comfortable, obviously, don’t do it.”

Am I comfortable with something like this?

A few months ago, Alastor would have just laughed at the question, or given some kind of sarcastic form of ‘no’ if pressed to answer. But now… he didn’t know if he was or not, and he was finally realizing that he was never going to know if he was or wasn’t unless he actually tried something. He just nodded to Moxxie, finished the rest of his cider all at once, and thrust the empty glass at Blitzø. “This was your idea, so you have to hold this.”

“What– yeah, okay, man, go get some.”

Alastor ignored him, getting to his feet and crossing the room to where Anthony was standing. The closer he got, the more clearly he could hear his voice; he was aware that his own thoughts were somewhat jumbled, but there was one thing he knew for absolute certain. It was something he had been thinking for days, a deeply sober sentiment that he knew the alcohol was not influencing one iota.

I don’t want him to go.

“Oh, hey, Al,” Anthony said, turning when he noticed him. “You’re not leavin’, are you?”

“No,” Alastor said, shaking his head. He thought to say something else, but he didn’t; he couldn’t do anything but just look at Anthony.

Apparently, this was odd. Anthony frowned, tilting his head. “...you okay?” he asked at length.

“What? Yeah. Yes,” Alastor corrected. “I’m fine. It’s just… I…” He wasn’t sure how to say it, and on reflex, he glanced up at the mistletoe again.

It wasn’t meant to direct Anthony’s own gaze, but it did, and the moment he registered the little bit of green decor, his cheeks flooded with pink. “...oh.”

Alastor was only vaguely aware of Niffty scurrying away, giggling. Anthony looked back down at him, both of them at a loss for words. Alastor wasn’t used to his speech failing him, because his words were how he had always navigated through life. It was how he had gotten himself out of trouble, and sometimes into it, for many years. But now… what was he supposed to say?

Anthony wasn’t speaking either. But he also wasn’t moving. Alastor didn’t know what to make of it. All he knew was that all of this thinking was making it worse, so instead of thinking, he would just do something.

When he first leaned forward and kissed Anthony, the other young man gasped, as though so much buildup still hadn’t prepared him. Before Alastor could even think about moving away, Anthony flung his arms around Alastor’s shoulders and pulled him closer. Even though they didn’t part lips, even Anthony was out of breath when they parted, and Alastor was fairly certain both of their faces were on fire.

He only noticed the room was silent when someone yelled, “Hell yeah!” which triggered either laughter or vehement shushing from most everyone else in the room. Anthony immediately started giggling, burying his face in Alastor’s shoulder.

Alastor couldn’t bring himself to look at the rest of the room. It wasn’t just because it was embarrassing, it was because the sight of Anthony flushed so pink and overcome with laughter was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. “...are you ready to go?” he murmured.

“Mhm,” Anthony said into Alastor’s shoulder, nodding.

No one seemed terribly surprised when they took their leave, bundling back up in their coats and heading out into the snow once more. The walk back felt both longer than it ever had and so short it was as though it passed in a blink. They were outside the dorms when Alastor took Anthony’s sleeve. “Wait,” he said.

“Y-yeah?” Anthony asked, turning to look at him.

Immediately, Alastor didn’t want to say anything, so he forced out the first words he could without giving himself time to process or second-guess. “Be my boyfriend. I mean… really. My actual boyfriend.”

This time, Anthony was the one who kissed him.

An hour later, they were in Alastor’s room, coats and hats haphazardly scattered on the floor and Anthony’s back against the wall. Alastor grabbed his wrists and pinned them, covering Anthony’s mouth with his own.

Judging by the sounds Anthony was making, he was a fast learner when it came to this kind of thing.

When they parted, Anthony tilted his head back, exposing the line of his neck, and Alastor was unable to resist leaning down enough to kiss his throat. He could feel Anthony’s groan reverberating through his own lips. “Oh, god, yeah,” Anthony moaned. “That’s so good…”

Something about those words, the way Anthony said them, sent a shiver through Alastor’s body. Before he could second-guess it, he bit down on Anthony’s neck, making him cry out and arch his back to press their chests together. Alastor released him. “Too much?” he panted.

“No, no no, fuck no, don’t stop…!”

Alastor bit down again, and Anthony whined, the sound turning into a sort of sharp moan as Alastor began scraping his teeth against his skin. As he began sucking a bruise into his flesh, he discovered that the rougher he was, the more Anthony seemed to like it; by the time he moved away to admire his work, the side of Anthony’s neck was covered in marks ranging from pink to dark red to something bordering on purple.

Anthony was breathing hard. “Fuck, Alastor, you’re so good…!”

Alastor didn’t know what it was, but when Anthony said that, it made him feel like he was going to go insane if he didn’t do… something, he just didn’t know what. He practically growled as he grabbed Anthony around the waist, and his best friend let out an inelegant squeak as he was lifted off the ground and practically flung onto Alastor’s bed. Alastor wasn’t sure how he would feel about this later, but he knew what he wanted now, and what he wanted was to keep making Anthony make those noises.

He stumbled slightly when he kicked his shoes off, but he managed to keep his feet until he could get onto the bed and crawl on top of Anthony, pinning him down and kissing him again. The night devolved into a haze of sensation and emotion, punctuated by Anthony’s whispered encouragement and moans. Alastor wasn’t sure if he was making noise or not—he was too busy listening to Anthony’s sounds to really focus on what he himself was doing—but if the way he felt when Anthony actually moaned the words “you’re such a good boy” in his ear was anything to go by, he was pretty sure he didn’t want to know what kind of noises he was making.

Eventually, he wasn’t able to form any kind of coherent thought beyond, I’m going to have to rewrite my entire paper.

[waddingham]

rebecca wants a pet

this is just a silly little ditty but here <3

Amongst all these things and more, he has learned that she does not do subtlety. Her opinions, thoughts, wants are shared unflinchingly, in a way he admires as someone who tends towards pleasing others over himself. She doesn't demand and criticize but simply shares herself with him – her opinion is always a prompt to hear his, her thoughts are little hands reaching out to know and be known by him, her wants passed along in hopes of him wanting too. And she makes it easy to respond in kind.

There's probably half a million things he's learned about Rebecca Welton in the first year of living with her. Big things and small things – she can destroy a bowl of berries and nuts in a matter of seconds. She has an almost frightening ability to hold her alcohol. She does a tiny bit of yoga everyday and those minutes of solitude are important to her. She loves him voraciously, would do just about anything for anyone in her club, and doesn't believe she will ever uncomplicate her relationship with her mother.

And because she so rarely employs subtlety, he doesn't think it's anything notable at all when she finds a new minor interest. 

"Look at this."

He turns his eyes from the TV to her, stretching an arm along the cushion as she scoots closer along the couch. She angles her phone so he can see – it's a video of a tabby cat with a mouthful of leaves, chirping as it crosses someone's yard. He grins at it, chuckling as it drops them and sits with satisfaction next to its contribution.

"She brings them a little pile of leaves everyday," Rebecca chuckles.

"Look at her go. Doin' her part."

"She's a good girl."

"Lot better than a mouthful of mice," he remarks.

She gives him a horrified look. 

"What?" he chuckles. "You never had a cat?"

"No," she says, shaking her head. "Have you?"

"There was an outdoor cat when I was growing up that hung around our house. My mom hated it 'cause she's scared to death of mice and loves the birds and he would come around with either one or the other dead in his mouth and leave it. Tryin' to get on her good side, I guess." 

She stares at him. "That's disgusting."

He laughs a little bit, tilting his head. "Yeah. He brought a bird up on the stoop once, still movin', and Mama was so mad, she smacked the back of his head for him to drop it. And he did. And then another little bird came flutterin' out of his mouth and flew off."

She shakes her head, a smile pulling at her mouth. "You're full of shit."

"I am not," he laughs. "Saw it with my own eyes. He was a big fella."

She snorts, looking back down at her phone. She stays close, leaning against his side as she scrolls on. 

It takes him a while to take notice of the running theme. They send all kinds of silly stuff back and forth – videos and pictures and jokes. She sends him screenshots of funny tweets she sees, sometimes about him or the team, sometimes just random things she thinks will amuse him.

But suddenly there's a very large uptick in cat videos. 

×××

She blames Keeley. It's Keeley's fault entirely.

She doesn't know what possessed her friends, if it was the influence of Phoebe or what, but they've adopted a cat – a beautiful, lithe, sleek one that could nearly be taken for a tiny leopard for its coloring. She's a lively little thing, playful and talkative, but she seems to adore Rebecca. When she goes over, she spends the length of her visit circling her feet or pacing her lap on the couch, purring like a fiend, pushing her head into Rebecca's palm.

And, goddammit, Rebecca likes it. She likes watching her prance around, flopping around on the floor for attention, just in general being entertaining and sweet. 

She sees them everywhere now – or at least is really noticing them as she scrolls through social media, seeing Leslie's sons posting videos of their new kitten and Keeley and Roy's little minx chasing her tail and random strangers with unnaturally gorgeous felines. 

She hasn't any idea how Ted feels about getting a pet. And normally she'd just tell him, have all her arguments outlined, or just recklessly show up with one one day, but they have quite literally just settled into living together. She doesn't want him to say yes just because she wants it and then hate it and hate taking care of it – she wants him to want it too. So she's going a little more insidious. Or trying to, sending out feelers by sending him cats and seeing what he says. 

She's not having much luck. He will aww and ooh, but doesn't express any disdain or desire to get one. Which isn't helping her.

"Who's idea was the cat?" she asks Keeley. 

"I wanted a dog and Roy wanted a cat," she says, stroking Camilla's back as she arches on the couch next to her. "But we settled on her 'cause she's so cool and active and spirited, she's like a low maintenance dog."

Keeley gives her a little grin. "You want one, don't you?"

"I do," Rebecca admits, scratching Camilla's neck as she crosses to her. 

"You guys should get one then," Keeley says. "They're so easy."

"I haven't asked Ted what he thinks yet," she says. 

"Well, I don't think he would refuse you anything, first of all," she says, sipping her wine. "And also how cute would he be with kittens all over him?"

"Stop," she says, tilting her head. "Or I'll show up at home with a box of them tomorrow."

Keeley giggles. "I think he would like a cat. Or a dog, but I would guess you–"

"I do not want a dog," Rebecca says. That's a lot more mess, care, and maintenance to jump right into when she's never even had a pet.

She hopes he wouldn't rather have a dog.

She supposes she's going to just have to bring it up outright – he's not catching on and she's already tired of trying to be slick about it.

×××

"Hey," he calls out when he hears the front door open. He gets one in response as she comes in, kicking her shoes off. She's earlier than he expected – she usually lingers late into the evening when she goes over to Keeley and Roy's.

He looks up at her from his sprawl on the couch as she rounds the sofa and immediately plants a knee between him and the cushions, crawling up and laying over him.

"You weren't gone long," he remarks as she settles herself against him, his arm landing on her back, her head on his middle.

"No," she sighs. "I left when Roy got back from his sister's. Keeley seemed…eager to be alone with him."

He chuckles, pushing his hand through her hair. "Well, cheers to them."

She giggles a little bit, rubbing a hand along his side over his t-shirt. She relaxes against him – the loveliest blanket he's ever had the pleasure to be covered with.

"I like their kitty," she remarks and he smiles.

"She's a lil' firecracker," he says. "Cracks me up."

She rolls her head until her chin is planted on his chest to look up at him. Her eyes are a little wide, eyebrows tipped up. 

"Can we get one?"

His smile grows as he tilts his head. He never would've taken her for a pet person.

"Sure," he says. He likes cats.

She almost scoffs, closing her eyes. 

"Of course you're going to be that easy about it."

He chuckles. "Do you want me to argue with you about it?"

"No, but I thought it would take at least a little convincing," she says and he squints at her a little bit. 

"Is that why you keep sending me cat stuff?"

She does scoff then, rolling her eyes. "Yes."

"Why?" he laughs. "What do you think I have against cats?"

"I don't know," she says, laying her head back down in exasperation. 

And since when does she do sneaky?

He chuckles again, smoothing a hand over her hair. 

"We'd have to go get some stuff," he muses. "But I remember Higgins saying he can't go to the pet store on Saturdays 'cause the shelter sets up with a bunch of kitties and he knows he'll go home with one. We could go then. Get the stuff and peek at the cats." 

"I already have everything saved to order online," she mumbles and he laughs.

"You could've just said something, Rebecca."

"I was trying to sniff you out first," she says. "But you gave me nothing."

"I'm sorry," he chuckles. "What kinda kitty do you want?"

"A soft one. Sweet one. Not so crazy as Camilla."

"Alright," he says. "Kitten?"

"I would like a kitten, I think," she says, lifting her head again to look at him. "Start from scratch."

"Okay, then," he smiles. "Sounds like fun."

×××

He didn't know what he expected when she said she had stuff saved, but he really shouldn't be surprised. The things that arrive over the next couple days look like something straight out of a housecat's dreams. A water drinking fountain and several very soft beds, toys, dishes, food that now has a shelf in the fridge, and, good lord, the litter box.

He just laughs when she sets it on the kitchen island. 

"It's automatic," she says, then lifts her hands, defending herself. "Do you want to do it? Because I don't."

He reads the side of the box, still grinning. "It connects to the WiFi?!”

"Oh, stop," she says. "Like I was going to skimp out on this."

"How much did this cost you?" he asks, looking up with a grin. 

"What does that matter?" she says innocently.

"C’mon, tell me," he says. 

"No."

He looks in the shipping box, spying an invoice and snatching it before she can stop him. 

"Give me that–"

"Seven hundred pounds?!" he says, laughing. "Oh my God, Rebecca."

"Stop," she says, swiping the paper from him, smiling at his teasing. 

"You know it's gonna poop in it right?" 

"Exactly. And then neither of us has to touch it."

"Now I feel like we're not adopting a cat but selecting one lucky winner to come live a life of luxury and refinement."

She laughs, wrapping her arms around the box, giving him a haughty look. 

"If you'll excuse me. I have a cat shitter to set up."

He chuckles, watching her go, but following after a few minutes to help her. 

×××

"I was excited, but now I'm just sad," she remarks as they walk through the narrow room. 

"Yeah," he laments. "Now I feel like adopting a nice round dozen or two."

"I think we'll have to start with one," she says, taking another step, giving the next cat its due attention. "Hello. Aren't you lovely?"

They wander through at a slow pace, having been told the kittens they have are at the far end of the room, but she stops at every cage, offering her fingers and compliments to each kitty. 

They don't make it to the far end – he didn't really expect them to. 

"Oh," Rebecca says, coming to a complete stop at a cage. "Oh, look at you."

The cat inside is a pale gray that fades into white at its paws and nose with long fur – not the longest they've seen, but longer than the shorthairs – curled up in the little bed in the corner.

"Oh, he's pretty," Ted says, stepping closer.

"How do you know it's a he?" she remarks, sticking her fingers into the cage, greeting the kitty. "Hello."

It lifts its head, peering at them with lovely gray blue eyes. He sticks his own fingers in, watching the cat take an interest, standing and stretching.

"Oh," Rebecca says sadly, and he turns to her, finding her reading the information card hooked on the cage. 

"Hmm?"

"'My loving owner died and I had nowhere to go'," she reads aloud. "'I'm an affectionate, easygoing kitty that enjoys lots of lap time.'"

She turns to him with a frown, then to the cat as they both feel him rub himself along their fingers. Ted curls his fingers into his soft fur, turning back to Rebecca, finding her watching the kitty with a little heartbreak in her eyes. 

"I like him," she says.

"I thought you wanted a kitten," he reminds her softly.

She doesn't respond, watching the little guy push his head against her knuckles. He steps around her, trading spots to read the rest of the card for himself.

"He's already ten years old," he says, sliding a hand over her back. He doesn't have a problem with it – he wouldn't mind an older cat, but she seemed set on a baby.

"I know," she says slowly, like she's realizing she's pretty much made up her mind. "But I think he deserves a nice retirement."

He smiles at her, watching the kitty sit close enough for Rebecca to brush her finger over the soft fur at his chest, primly adjusting his big white paws in front of him before curling his tail around. He peers at them, then lets out a soft little mow that has both of them chuckling.

"See, you agree, don't you?" she says. "You're a little sweetheart, huh? I didn't even look to see what your name is."

Ted looks, having skimmed over it too, smiling at what he finds. "Arthur."

"Arthur?" Rebecca chuckles. 

"What a name, huh? Who picked up this little guy as a sweet little puffball of a kitten, looked at him on the most exciting day of his life and then gave him the most old man name possible? I'm so sorry, buddy."

"Oh, stop," she says, scratching at Arthur's chin as she reassures him. "I think it's a great name. And I don't think Theodore has any room to talk."

He laughs fully at that, hearing Rebecca chuckle with him. "Well, that's me told," he says, squeezing her side, pulling her attention as she turns. "Should we see if somebody will open his cage up so we can meet him?"

She nods, giving him a bright smile.

×××

Of course they brought old Art home. And it doesn't even take two days before they're both absolutely smitten. 

He's taken to following them around curiously, as well as flopping and rolling against the shag rug in the living room. He'd been absolutely riveted by the dining room, chirping and chattering at the birds through the windows – to their endless amusement – and surveying the backyard as if it were new domain he's claimed. 

He's just adorable. And quickly growing very comfortable here. 

Clearly.

"Well, he didn't take long to settle in, did he?" he remarks.

Rebecca's laid out on the couch with Arthur stretched along her front, his head nestled against her chest, paws stretched toward her chin. He can hear the little guy purring from where he stands at the end of the couch as she strokes his fur from ears to tail, grinning with pure delight.

"And he found the best spot already."

She chuckles, bending her knees to make room for him to sit. Arthur lifts his head, eyes opening at being jostled. 

"Oh, relax," she mutters. "We share with Ted, alright?"

She lays her legs over his thighs as he chuckles. 

"I see you're having no trouble bonding with our new resident," he says as his arms stretches along the back of the sofa.

"Of course not," she almost coos, rubbing at Arthur's cheek. "And don't think I didn't see you carrying him around like a baby yesterday."

"Oh, c'mon. He was lookin' up at me and making the saddest little noise. And you know what, I ain't even gonna pretend I wouldn't die for him already."

She chuckles, holding Arthur's little face as he just purrs and purrs. "You hear that? You have Ted's eternal devotion."

"Christ, he looks more in love with you than I am," he muses.

She laughs at that, glancing up at him. "I'm pretty sure he's very happy to not be in that cage anymore."

Arthur stands at the disturbance, stretching his back before he traverses Rebecca's body to see what Ted has going on. 

"I think you made a good choice, darlin'," he says to Rebecca as Arthur just stands on Ted's thighs, pressing up into his hand as he strokes him. 

"I love him," she mutters.

He smiles as Arthur throws himself against Ted's abdomen, rolling in his lap.

"Me too."

×××

When she steps into the bedroom, she just has to grin.

Ted's lounging on the bed, scrolling his phone with Arthur cradled in his arm against his chest, dead asleep.

It's almost hilarious to think about now – that she was uncertain if he'd enjoy having a cat. More than half the times she comes upon him in the house, he's either holding or talking to Arthur. He carries him around like a little prince and he just purrs like a madman.

Maybe they didn't end up with a box of kittens, but it's still unbelievably cute. And she hates to disturb it, but, right now, she's going to.

She crawls up onto the bed, leaning on an elbow next to him.

"What's going on here?" she asks, scratching the top of Arthur's head, startling him if his little mrrp is anything to go by.

"He needed snuggled apparently," Ted says as he drops his phone next to him. "And I think I make a pretty good bed if I do say so myself."

"I can confirm," she nods. "But he might have to go."

Ted frowns at her, stroking Arthur's side almost protectively. "He's fine here." 

"Okay, but what if I'm trying to have sex with you?" she asks, watching Ted's brows lift again. 

"Ah, well, I think you're a little late," he says, gesturing to the cat. "I think I'm otherwise engaged for the evening."

She gives him a flat look, getting a little grin back. 

"Arthur, buddy, I think you're in danger," he whispers to the cat, who has no reaction whatsoever. Ted shifts him to get him up and he just lifts his head and glares at him, dead weight against his chest.

"Oh, c'mon man, don't do this to me," Ted chuckles as Rebecca pantomimes looking at a watch. "Look at her. Be a little wingman here, huh?"

He's unenthused as Ted lifts him up and leans to put him on the floor. 

"There," he says, immediately rolling into her until she's on her back, grinning up at him. 

"I'm all yours," he mutters against her neck, his hands immediately bunching her shirt to get to her skin. "Though you might have to work out a schedule with the little man."

She snickers, pulling him down hard against her with a leg, sliding her hands against his back as she catches his lips with hers. She hums as he grinds against her, the little fever in her core telling her this probably isn't going to be especially leisurely–

They both freeze at the sound of the sheets rustling. They look towards the end of the bed, where Arthur's jumped back up, ears pinned back, feet braced against the duvet. Before either of them can say anything, he dives forward, chasing nothing, then does a fast loop before freezing again. 

She can't help but snort when he looks back at them, eyes wild before he does another circle, then gets distracted with licking his leg.

"What is he doing?" Ted chuckles, then startles when Arthur spins and leaps at his toes.

"Oh, Jesus, man!"

She barks out a laugh as he jerks his foot away and she's in stitches as Arthur chases after it before finally doing another loop, leaping off the bed and sprinting out the door. 

"What the hell–" Ted laughs, turning back to her as she catches her breath, pulling him against her again.

"He's not the forgiving kind apparently."

"Who wanted a cat again?" he asks, his grinning mouth falling to her jaw.

"I did," she laughs. "And it was so worth it."

[sunnysidesevenup]

I am having Arlo/Neige thoughts again so. Here is some rambling and headcanons about their relationship!!!

tagging!! @jadelover69 @kirexa @lallopsyou @miriaocs @jovieinramshackle

- Arlo is originally only interested in photography but after talking with Neige so often, he ends up getting into film making. However all of his films end up weirdly sad at first and make Neige cry so he has to ban him from watching them lmao. Eventually he starts making happier things!!

- once they’re adults Neige ends up getting Arlo to do most of his photo shoots, mostly because Arlo prioritizes him being comfortable and happy and other people tend to not really care about his opinions as much.

- they go to the movies literally so often. so many movie nights. Neige is the BIGGEST fan and it’s infectious. they watch stuff and then talk about it for hours afterwards.

- when they first start dating Arlo is initially really nervous about coming off as too intense, and Neige IMMEDIATELY dispels that fear by buying him a bouquet of flowers for three dates in a row.

- they share clothes a lot, and Vil is SO MAD every time he has to see Neige’s sweater 😭

- previously thought to be incapable of hating anyone, Neige hates Arlo’s entire immediate family lmao

- following up on Neige thinking it would be fun to play a villain, he expresses this to Arlo once who says he can’t really picture him like that and would be interested to see if he could pull it off. Cue Neige jokingly acting out a villain character and Arlo immediately becoming so flustered he can’t speak. (He likes every version of Neige, but this one was just unexpected, okay?!)

- Arlo only takes photos of his own volition if he thinks things are beautiful, which usually means he never takes photos of people unless he’s asked to for a job. He doesn’t try to hide this, either.

- Neige invites him out to see cherry blossom trees at some point, and while he’s looking at them he hears a click and turns to see Arlo taking a picture of him. “Sorry, I just wanted to.” Arlo doesn’t realize it’s actually a big deal at first until Neige gets really flustered and happy about it.

- Neige gets asked in an interview once who his ideal partner would be, to which he answers “someone charming, sweet, and passionate!” Arlo immediately breaks a vase in pomefiore and then picks a fight with a third year lmao

- while NRC students tend to get pretty angry and chase out RSA students when they visit, Neige can visit all he wants because he’s with Arlo (who has a reputation similar to the Leech twins, just with a different vibe)

- Occasionally, when Vil is particularly annoyed, he’ll drag along Arlo to his joint shoots in hope that it will distract Neige. This works but also frequently backfires, because Neige then puts in extra effort.

- Neige is VERY public and vocal about how much he loves his boyfriend once they start dating (with Arlo’s permission, of course). He posts a ridiculous amount of pictures with the two of them, and nearly every time he has to talk in an interview he somehow manages to mention how much he loves Arlo 😭

- Arlo definitely cried over this a few times. He goes from never believing anyone at all will love him to having a partner who literally tells every single person at any opportunity how much he cares for him. It takes him a while to process it’s real.

- Despite no one thinking he would be, Arlo is a very, VERY supportive partner. Neige tells him about a charity or cause he’s trying to raise funds for and you KNOW he’s going to stand menacingly behind his boyfriend and glare at anyone who thinks the charity is pointless or stupid. You WILL donate.

- Neige now has scary dog privilege but the scary dog is actually the tiniest piranha merman ever. rip my boy for being 5’2. (He can still bite with razor sharp teeth with force 30 times his body weight though, so like. run?)