#I’ve waited this long I can wait a little longer

[nanenna]

Meeting the Mayor

Sleepy King Master Post

Mayor Masters had left their little group waiting for far too long. It was clearly a power move, something Batman expected of someone like Lex Luthor, not the mayor of a small town that had been all but swallowed up by the nearby larger city. It was so predictable that he even started a mental countdown on when they would be allowed to meet Masters. He was, of course, right.

On entering the mayor’s office, Masters was sitting behind his desk, an oily smile spread across his face. He didn’t even stand to greet them. “Good afternoon, it’s not every day…” Masters trailed off as his face scrunched up. “Strawberry shortcake! Did some youths play a prank on you?”

Batman glanced briefly towards his fellow League members, they looked just as confused as he was. Diana squared her shoulders, “What do you mean?”

“You don’t…” Masters frowned as he looked them over, “Nevermind, my mistake. What did you want to discuss?” The man smiled brightly as he leaned over and pressed a button on a small desk fan, the blades whirred to life.

Diana smiled just as brightly and just as fakely as she sat down in front of his desk. “We’re here to make sure you’re aware of the resources the Justice League has made available to any municipal body.”

Constantine took his cue and lounged in the chair next to Diana while Batman chose to loom over her shoulder.

“Resources?” Masters asked with a raised brow.

“Yes, we understand that attacks on a “super villain” level can leave a lot of collateral damage that smaller cities may struggle to repair, especially those that haven’t had to deal with such things before. The Justice League provides aid to anyone who applies.”

“Ah, how generous!” Masters gave a smile that made Batman’s skin crawl. “But I’m sure even you have limited funds, would not they be better left to those truly in need? As you’ve seen, our little town is doing just fine without your help.”

“And how is that?” Batman asked. “There’ve been reports of numerous attacks over the last two years, where is Amity Park getting the resources to repair the damage?”

“Believe it or not, ghosts are incorporeal and thus don’t cause as much collateral damage. Also, the appearance of ghosts has caused a spike in tourists, which has been quite the boost to our economy. And lastly, as the mayor is it not my civic duty to support my town, which I love so dearly? Of course I’ve been supplementing Amity’s budget, and I’ve been making sure to hire only local businesses to keep Amity Park’s money inside Amity Park.”

Batman narrowed his eyes. He chose not to mention that Vlad had only moved to Amity Park shortly before running for mayor, or that he had bought and combined a few local construction companies and has been using them exclusively. Certainly everything about the man was suspicious, but that wasn’t what they were here to talk about. Instead he pulled several pamphlets from his utility belt. “While you’ve been lucky so far, it would be in your best interests to be fully aware of the resources available to you and your fine town in case something larger scale happens.” Not that it hadn’t already, he couldn’t imagine anything larger scale than the entire town and neighboring city getting pulled into another dimension by an undead tyrant king.

While Batman and Diana painstakingly went over the pamphlets with Masters, who’s smile wilted more and more the longer they took, Constantine kept muttering under his breath and making motions with his hands where Masters couldn’t see them, staring intensely at the mayor the whole time. Batman was curious what he was seeing.

The wall suddenly burst, small bits of plaster and wood showering over Masters and the cape Batman had used to shield himself and his fellow League members.

“Vladdie!” A familiar voice called boisterously, “You won’t believe what happened! Oh, I didn’t know you had guests.”

Masters was brushing debris from his person as he spoke with clear disdain, “Yes, well, if you would use the door as. I’ve. Asked! Numerous time. This whole situation could be avoided.”

“Hello again,” Dr. Jack Fenton said cheerfully with a little wave. “What are you doing visiting Vladdie?”

“We were just ensuring Mayor Masters was aware of all the JL resources available to him,” Batman said as he let his cap fall back around his body.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Diana said brightly. “We also have support available for minors doing hero work, you wouldn’t happen to be able to get in contact with Phantom, would you?”

Dr. Madeline Fenton, along with both their children, approached as Diana asked her question. Masters’s eyes trailed over to the group before focusing back on the League members. “No, I’m afraid not. He’s a ghost, you know. Likely he spends most of his time in the Ghost Zone, only comes here to play around with his ghost friends and cause collateral damage.”

“Hey!” Danny said indignantly. “Phantom is a hero who’s working really hard to keep the town safe!”

“Yes yes,” Masters said while waving his hand at the family. “I know you and all your little friends think Phantom hung the moon and stars. Wait, shouldn’t you two be at school?”

“There was an incident,” Jack said proudly.

Masters sighed, “It wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with these fine people, would it?” He waved at the League members as he spoke.

“Good guess, Vladdie!”

“I thought so.” Masters swept the pamphlets into his desk drawer. “Well thank you very much for your concern, I shall make sure to keep these in case we ever do need assistance. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to contact someone about repairing my wall. Have a lovely day.” Masters stood and simply walked through the busted wall with the Fenton family.

Batman watched them leave through narrowed eyes.

“Not the oddest town I’ve been in,” Diana remarked thoughtfully.

Batman simply turned to look in Constantine’s direction.

“The mayor is also dead as a doornail, but fully alive.”

“He also clearly smelled your demon blood,” Batman added.

Constantine nodded. “I'm getting all kinds of odd readings off the mayor, no I'm not explaining it. Just know he's weird, but still not as weird as the kid, though he's close."

"Should we not follow them?" Diana asked.

"I put trackers and bugs on all of them," Batman replied.

"'Course you did, mate."

[urno1luv]

Change of Heart 1/2

i made this little fic a few months ago... cant believe im posting this now😭😭

mean girl minjeong x reader. pretty overdone but it's too gooddd😩nothing explicit just winter falling for you

💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💘

You had always been invisible to people like Minjeong.

She was the school’s queen bee, the one everyone gravitated toward, the girl whose smile could send anyone into a frenzy and whose stare could crush your confidence without a single word. You were nothing to her—just another nameless face in the halls of the school. Most of the time, you stayed out of her way, keeping your head down, avoiding eye contact, because if you looked at her for too long, you might end up the target of some cruel remark. It was easier to blend into the background.

But recently, things had changed.

At first, it was subtle—a glance, a flicker of interest that you couldn't quite place. You'd catch her eyes across the room in class, and instead of the usual cold, dismissive stare, she'd hold your gaze a moment longer, as if studying you. Sometimes, there would be a small, almost knowing smile, one that was too soft to belong to the same girl who'd humiliated you just a month ago.

Then, one day after class, she was there—waiting by your locker, arms crossed, leaning against the row of lockers as if she had all the time in the world. You froze, unsure whether to turn around and pretend you hadn’t seen her or face her directly.

She tilted her head, narrowing her eyes as she looked you over with a strange intensity. This was a different Minjeong. Without her usual entourage, her sharp features seemed more like a weapon than before, aimed directly at you.

"You're still avoiding me," she said, her voice quiet but dripping with a certain edge. "I thought you'd be smarter than that."

You shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to react. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Minjeong took a slow step toward you, her heels clicking ominously against the floor. "Don’t play dumb. I’ve been watching you, and I don’t like being ignored. You think you can just disappear in the crowd like everyone else? Not when I’m paying attention to you." Her voice dropped even lower, almost a whisper. "I’ve noticed you, and that means you don’t get to just blend in anymore."

The tension in the air was palpable. You couldn’t breathe, and for some reason, your heart raced faster with every word she said. Minjeong wasn’t threatening you—not exactly. But there was something in her tone that made you feel like there were no options for escape, no way to get out of this situation cleanly.

"I’m not interested in your games," you said quickly, trying to sound firm, even though your voice was trembling slightly.

Minjeong’s lips curled into a smirk, but it wasn’t one of amusement. It was sharper, more deliberate. “You think I’m playing games?” she murmured, stepping even closer, her body nearly pressed against yours. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just trying to figure you out. You’re different from everyone else here, and I can’t stand that. I need to know why. I need to know everything about you.”

You didn’t know how to respond. What did she want from you? Why was she suddenly so fixated on you?

Her eyes lingered on your face, unreadable, her breath just barely brushing against your skin. For a moment, you couldn’t even think straight.

“I don’t care what you think you know about me,” you stammered, your mind racing for something to say that would make her leave. “I’m not interested in being your—”

She cut you off with a soft laugh, and for a moment, you could almost feel the power shift. “You’re so desperate to push me away,” she said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “But you don’t get to do that. Not anymore.” Her voice was low, almost soothing, but the words felt like a warning. “You think I won’t notice? You think you can hide from me?” She leaned in closer, just enough so that your breath hitched in your throat. “I’ve been paying attention. And soon, you’ll realize you’re exactly where I want you to be.”

Her words hung in the air long after she finished speaking, the weight of them pressing against you. You didn’t know what was happening, but you could feel her watching you, feeling you, in a way that made every fiber of your being scream to run.

But you couldn’t. Because when Minjeong finally stepped back, her eyes didn’t leave yours. They lingered, studying you as if she was deciding whether to let you go… or keep you in her sights a little longer.

“I’ll see you around,” she said finally, but the way she said it left no doubt—she would be around. You couldn’t escape her.

And the worst part was, for some reason, you didn’t even want to??

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 3

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2

Chrissy Cunningham just slipped a note into someone’s locker. Robin doesn’t know whose, but it’s not Steve Harrington’s. She knows, because she’s had the absolute blessing of having him as her locker neighbor all year. And based on how often she’s seen Chrissy loitering in front of it with him, the gossip mill is right about their budding relationship.

Except Chrissy just slipped a note into someone else’s locker.

Robin watches her walk away, stomach curdling at Harrington’s name branded on her back. He might as well have raised a leg and pissed on her.

The hallway is largely vacant, everyone in their last periods of the day. Robin had been on her way to Pre-Calc after a quick stop at the restroom, but she’s scrapping that idea now: there’s a mystery afoot.

Robin hunches over the drinking fountain at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. She pushes the button but makes sure her mouth is well out of the stream of contaminated water. She’s not willing to risk botulism, not even for Chrissy.

The footsteps walk by without a pause, so she stands up, wiping the bit of splash-backed water off her cheek as she waits. After a few more false starts, and the clock ticking down to the end of the day, she’s almost ready to give it up as a bad job.

But then someone else starts stomping down the hall. She watches out of the corner of her eye, once again bent over the fountain, as Eddie Munson spins the dial on the locker and pulls it open. He immediately plucks an envelope out, pulls the tab open, and retrieves a pale-blue piece of paper.

Robin’s thumb slips on the button for the water–the abrupt absence of sound must tip him off because he turns to her, a scowl already on his face as he asks, “what are you looking at?” as he clutches the note tightly to his chest.

It’s too late. She’d already seen him smile down at it, blushing and twirling one of his curls around his fingers.

It sinks into her stomach until she’s sick, a pit to nurture and grow in the acid of her intestines. She can almost feel them writhing as Eddie’s scowl deepens into a glare the longer her silence goes on.

“Nothing,” she says, averting her eyes to bend down and pretend to tie her shoe.

Eddie huffs, and she listens to him stomp down the hall, as something wet and embarrassing begins pooling in her eyes.

She spends the rest of class hiding in the bathroom trying to get her shit together by brute force.

It doesn’t work; it never does.

***

After the random band girl had creeped on him in the halls, Eddie stuffed the letter into the pocket of his vest, half-read. The anticipation builds through the rest of the period and all the way home.

In the comfort of his bedroom he reopens the envelope and peers inside, giddy at the thought of reading the rest of the letter, this time a response to his own words. 

Should he light a candle? Dim the lights? Eddie hasn’t seen a romance movie in a long time, but this feels like the sort of moment to recreate a scene from one. He’s getting love letters. Plural. Him. Eddie of the Munson doctrine.

He doesn’t even own any candles.

       Eddie – 

       I’m not trying to bully you. I do actually really like you, and I wish I was brave enough to tell you. Brave like you. It doesn’t seem like you’re afraid of anything.

       It’s ok if you don’t know how to respond, I’m just glad you did at all. I read it at least ten times and keep it in my nightstand drawer.

       Sorry, that might be too much.

       Yours, Always,

       Your Secret Admirer

       P.S. You’re always the best part of my day. I’m just glad I can read it at all. I’ve seen your penmanship, and I was a little worried. :)

Eddie brushes his fingers against the sign-off, the pen such a light touch that he can barely feel the grooves in the paper beneath that immaculate ink.

“Yours, always,” he says, quietly in the privacy of his bedroom.

But, he’s not alone in this shoebox, so Uncle Wayne’s voice calls a too-loud, “what?” from where he’s probably still in his recliner, camped out in the living room.

“Mind your business, old man!” Eddie calls back, already lost in the land of daydreams by the time Wayne’s laugh travels back through the door he’d forgotten to close.

Wayne’s always been a good secret keeper, but this one’s too big to share. It feels weighty somehow, like it’s an overfilled water-balloon and telling Wayne, or Jeff, or anyone might fill it up to bursting.

He doesn’t want to pop this fragile thing, not when he doesn’t even have a face or a name.

He wants to know what her name sounds like on his tongue, the way her mouth purses as she carefully writes each of these little words. He wants to know what her skin feels like beneath his careful fingers.

He wants.

But, a Munson’s a Munson, and they can’t always get what they want, so he presses his pen to the paper and settles for what he can have. Not a name, maybe. Not yet, but some questions still deserve an answer, right?

*** 

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of setting a drop-off location,” Steve says, biting his nails the way his mom has always hated. He spits the bit of nail out onto the floor. Chrissy gives him a disgusted look. “What? I’m nervous!”

Nose still wrinkled, Chrissy mutters, “that’s no excuse to be a pig,” barely loud enough for him to hear.

Steve stuffs his hands beneath his armpits, scowling down at the linoleum as they make the increasingly familiar trek to the library. Before the past couple weeks, Steve could count the number of times he’d been in here on one hand, and every single one of them was because of Nancy.

Now, it feels like he and Chrissy are always camping out at one of the tables, crouching over notepads and whispering even if the library’s empty. Steve might not be the smartest guy around, but he’s not stupid; if anyone finds out about this, he’ll be lucky to make it out of town before someone kills him.

“Calm down,” Chrissy says, holding the door open for him. He steps past her, hands still crossed over his chest in what’s starting to feel increasingly like a self-soothing hug.

Chrissy must think the same because she wraps her tiny arm around his waist and leads him toward a familiar bookshelf. “He probably left it in the same place as last time.”

The word “probably” isn’t bringing him much comfort, but Chrissy doesn’t give him any more time to catastrophize before she’s pulling that same useless encyclopedia off the shelf and flipping it open. And there, tucked cozily into its pages, is another note in Eddie’s scrawl.

Steve smiles down at it before remembering their location. “You didn’t even check for witnesses,” Steve hisses.

He peers over her shoulder, eying the lone student in the research section who’s bent over a heavy tome, paying them no mind. He snaps out of it when Chrissy slaps the letter against his chest before tucking it into the pocket of Steve’s varsity jacket. She’s taken to wearing it almost religiously, even as all the other cheerleaders tease her mercilessly for it.

“Calm down,” she says, already striding away, off toward their usual table as Steve rushes to catch up. “If anyone sees, they’ll just think I’m his secret admirer.”

Logically, he knows that. But some part of him feels like everyone will take one look at his face and just know. And no matter how hard he tries, it’s not a feeling that’s easy to shake.

“Thanks, Chris,” he mumbles, bumping their shoulders together. She stumbles from the unexpected weight, but before Steve can help steady her, she’s bumping back into him with a happy laugh.

No matter how this all goes down, he can’t regret it, not when it brought the revelation that is Chrissy Cunningham into his life.

Settled into their usual chairs squeezed tightly together, she opens the letter and slides it closer to him. Steve’s eyes devour each word as she sits idly by, waiting for his response.

         Secret Admirer,

         Oh, how your words wound me! My penmanship is immaculate, I’ll have you know. But it doesn’t seem fair that you know enough about me to recognize my handwriting, and I can’t say the same.

         I understand if you don’t want to tell me your name, but what do you like to do for fun? What’s your favorite color? What do you dream about?

         Can you give me anything? You call me brave but sending me these letters is the bravest thing I can think of, and every day I get one of your letters is the best day I’ve ever had.

         Sincerely,

         Eddie

         P.S. I hope I dream of you tonight.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s sighing wistfully down at the page until he catches Chrissy hiding a smile behind her hand. He smacks her in the arm with a quiet, “shut up,” but his ears are already burning.

“Can I see?” she asks, and all the fondness floods back into him.

“Course,” he says, pushing it across. He watches her face avidly, heartbeat ratcheting up as he watches a smile bloom across her face.

“He’s sweet,” she says, smiling dreamily down at the page for a moment before looking up at him with waggling eyebrows he couldn’t have imagined seeing on her face even a week ago. “He wants to dream of you.”

Her voice warbles teasingly, and the warmth on his ears starts creeping onto his cheeks and down his neck. Unable to help himself, Steve shoves her arm again. “Shut up!”

All she does is laugh and latch onto him to keep herself upright.

“He wants to know you,” she says, still smiling, still teasing, but it’s okay when it’s her, not like Tommy’s cruel ribbing or Carol’s barbed words. “So, what do you want him to know?”

PART 4

[puck-luck]

Luke Hughes, clubs, 16 or 24 or 10

I chose #10 for this blurb because it was the least requested prompt for Luke :) @sidcrobsimp thank you for requesting <3

Warnings: edging, use of sex toys, overstim, soft!dom Luke WC: 820

Luke has a post-game ritual. Instead of going home, he comes to your apartment. Relatively early in your relationship, but after you’d given him a key to the apartment, he had caught you using your vibrator on yourself. His eyes had grown to the size of saucers and his pupils were blown out as he watched you hold the silicone toy to your clit and writhe against it.

After seeing how much it affected him, you started pleasuring yourself in front of Luke more often. He gets a kick out of telling you what to do exactly, although sometimes he likes to sit back and watch. 

Now, he’s come to expect it. When he comes over after playing his heart out, he wants to see you spread out on your bed with a buzzing sensation against your most sensitive parts. Today is no different.

Luke lets himself into your apartment and creeps down the hall, toeing off his shoes and losing his shirt along the way. He’s left in some joggers and his underwear, ready to drop those clothes as soon as he gets to the bedroom, grows abruptly hard, and feels confined by the fabric.

He can hear your little whimpers and gasps before he even enters the room. Before entering the room, Luke adjusts himself in his pants. He doesn’t want to look too excited yet, not when this has happened so many times before and he hasn’t even seen you.

When he pushes the door open, your legs are spread and your cunt is glistening. 

“Finally,” you groan, acknowledging Luke’s presence. You hit the button on the vibrator and Luke hears the pace increase. You slide the tip of the vibrator up your slit before settling it against your clit, where it was before.

“Don’t be greedy,” Luke says. “I didn’t tell you to go faster.”

“Is that what we’re doing today?” You ask breathlessly. “You want to be in charge?”

“Inside,” Luke tells you shortly. 

You’re quick to obey, filling yourself with the buzzing toy. 

“Fix the setting,” Luke adds, which you do. You know what he means– the constant vibration is fine when you’re tormenting your clit, but he prefers an intermittent pattern when you’re full. It keeps you on the edge for longer, teasing you the way Luke enjoys… because you’re always so whiny when you’re nearly there. “That’s my girl. Does it feel good? How long have you been playing with yourself?”

“Since your goal,” you inform him, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips jerk up, trying to chase the pleasure of the toy inside of you. 

Luke’s eyebrows fly towards his hairline. He scored in the second period. You’ve been at this for more than an hour.

“Did you come?” He asks.

You shake your head. “Wanted to wait for you.”

Ugh. Luke loves you. He rids himself of his pants and underwear, joining you on the bed. He brings his hands to your tits, pinching your nipples. 

You arch up into his touch, moaning loudly. You turn your face towards Luke, tilting your chin up to invite him to kiss you. 

He doesn’t. He pinches your nipples again, getting the same reaction. Luke smirks. “So close already? I’ve barely even touched you.”

“I’ve been doing this for ages,” you explain, confirming the timeline that Luke had already assumed. 

“Poor baby,” Luke simpers sarcastically. “Hold it. I’ll tell you when you can come.”

“Luke,” you protest.

“You wanted to wait for me,” Luke reminds you. “So wait until I give you permission.”

With that, he dips his head and starts to kiss over your breasts. Luke sucks bruises onto the skin of your tits, which will be hidden underneath your clothes in the coming days. Still, Luke will know they’re there, and that’s enough. 

Your fingers find his curls, twisting them tightly as you try to distract yourself from the sensation. 

As his tongue finds your nipple, his fingers start to circle your clit. You jolt against him, and Luke nibbles at the pebbling peak of your tit to berate you for moving. He makes things even more difficult for you by suckling at your breast harshly, fingers pinching your clit playfully.

Although Luke meant to tease you, he had underestimated just how close you were. From the way you seize up and clench his hair, hips twitching helplessly and pressing into his touch, Luke knows that you’ve involuntarily disobeyed his command to hold it. 

He grins into your chest. Now, you have to make up for the misgiving– coming again at Luke’s command. He’ll make you hold back as much as you can before finally allowing you that relief, accomplishing his plan by bringing you right to the peak and then taking it all away. His mistake was continuing to touch you when you already said you were so close– but he doesn’t regret it. He doesn’t think you will, either.

[sirsl1ttl3secretary]

I was thinking more like training me to dress sluttier wear more make up getting lip fillers etc and then start making me think about cock all the time so any time I’m alone in a room I can’t help but start rubbing my clit or playing with my nipples then as it progresses any time I’m in the house no matter if others are around I’ll be playing with myself then but you never acknowledge it making it as normal as sitting on my phone. Then as it goes further any time I’m awake all I can think about it playing with myself so I come to you and ask for help. That’s when you teach me the secret to help that feeling… the only way to stop it is to fill up my hole first with small toys like a bullet or a tiny little dildo making me get off on them for a month normalising me fucking myself in the house and car and anywhere else you want me too until I tell you that it’s stopped working or you catch me playing with myself in inappropriate public places then you buy me a new one a little longer and a little wider never admitting you got it me but leaving it on my bed to get home too this process lasts months just going up by half an inch in length and a quarter in width until I’m at your width then each month they just get longer till finally you give me a very special toy it’s s perfect copy of your cock from one of those make a dildo kits you make me use it for longer than the others so you know the effects of the silicone dildo have definitely long past and I’m so needy I’d do anything for release. That’s when you catch me wearing the dildo to school stuffed in my pussy held in place by my panties. We’re in the car almost at school when you find notice your cock becoming erect quickly. Finally… it’s time you think to yourself as you confront me my crop top shows so much underboob and cleavage it might as well not be there and my tiny mini skirt doesn’t do much to help hide what I’ve done. You pull into a nearby empty lay-by that’s just off the main road and leads down to a little parking area once we get there you tell me to open my legs which I do my puffy lips looking radiant in the early morning light. You move my panties to the side and rip out the dildo asking me what the hell I am doing. I pout and look confused before saying “filling my hole daddy” you throw it on the floor and firmly say “get out the car right now!” Without even putting my panties back in place I do as I’m told standing outside the car waiting for what will happen next when you walk round the car open the back door pulling me to the open door you say “this was a very naughty thing to do so now you will be punished. Stand with your legs straight and bend over so your body is lying flat on the seats and your ass is right up in the air. I do as I’m told the cold morning air swirling around my wet needy hole sending shivers through my body. You start to spread my legs a little wider opening my hole even further exposing me the the breeze before saying “your punishment is 5 slaps” you pull your hand back and get ready to spank me hard the tears of teasing taking over and come down hard on my left ass cheek “one” then again “two” now you swap to my right cheek “three” then you get an idea you go again on the right cheek “four” then pull my legs open lining your hand up with my clit before spanking it the hardest of all the hits “five” as soon as you make contact with my clit a moan erupts from my body it was an erotic deep begging moan “daddy I’ve been so naughty punish me again please daddy, I don’t think 5 was a big enough punishment I haven’t learnt my lesson please daddy… punish me harder” the words escape my body before my brain has even processed what’s happening making you chuckle and say “okay then baby if you insist” you spank my clit five more times each time making me wetter and wetter until you know it’s time. You undo your trousers and pull them down a little before bending over me to whisper in my ear “this is what it really means to fill your hole” as you pull on the elastic of your boxers your cock leaps out desperate to finally take what is yours

[softmaki]

c/w; gn reader, he calls you doll but it’s not gendered dw!, bit of ‘choking’ but not really, bit of manhandling, fwb dynamic, pent up leon, dry humping, a bit ooc so I’m sorry for that, very little dirty talk, if I missed any lmk!

thinking about roommate!leon, who you’ve somehow found yourself in a fwb situation with. you’re still unsure how this situation came to be. but you don’t find yourself complaining about that when you have your roommate come home from work, all frustrated and annoyed, and knowing you’re in for an interesting ride.

his hands find purchase tightly on your hips as soon as the door slams shut behind him and he manages to find you in your shared kitchen, lazily reading the back of a box from which your snacking on. your eyes widen in surprise at his urgency, pushing the box further away from yourself and swallowing thickly.

you don’t say anything. his hips push you into the counter as his own come behind you, a huff escaping his nose as his hands knead the flesh of your hips in his hands. the edge of the countertop digs into your skin, the coolness of the granite top biting in a soothing way. your palms flatten out against the countertop, pushing yourself straight up to feel his chest against your back. your head turns to the side, and your eyes lock with his own blue ones.

you know the cloudy look in those eyes. fuck, you know what’s gonna happen.

“is this okay?” his voice is rough. he’s impatient despite being so close, and even despite his frustration he wants to be sure you’re okay with him doing this. his hands grab harshly at your hips as he rolls his hips into you involuntarily, lips rosy and bruised from how hard he’s biting at them.

“yes.” breathless. it’s always been okay if it’s him.

he doesn’t wait for anything further. his lips crash onto yours, the angle awkward as your neck strains to the side enough to make the messy kiss feel relieving. it’s urgent, animalistic, and sloppy. one of his hands disconnects from its rightful place, a meek escaping your throat shortly before he grabs your neck with the stray hand and gently squeezes. it’s not enough to cut off the flow of blood, instead he rests his hand on you as if you’d disappear if he’s not holding you tight enough.

groaning against you, his lips detach from your own. that earns a disappointment whine from you, though your caught off guard as the hand on your throat moves to rest on the back of your neck. his hand pushes your neck down to bend you over the counter. his other hand leaves your hips and finds itself grabbing your arms and pinning them behind your back.

“y’don’t even know how long I’ve waited for this, doll.”

his breath is hot on the shell of your ear, and his words earn nothing less than a wanton moan out of you as his hips roll into your ass. the friction you both finally feel is what you assume heaven to be.

he’s rough and demanding. the pace of his hips only picks up the longer your held in this position. from the corner of your eye you can see his rugged face as his teeth leave marks on his lips, jaw falling open every few moments to release a quiet pant that makes you envious of the air that drinks in his sounds instead of your ears. the hand from your neck snakes down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up enough to grab at the soft skin below it instead, a guttural moan escaping his throat as his hips roll against you harsher.

“fuuuck, baby. need my cock in you now. fuckin missed this hole. can’t take it anymore, need’ya now.”

you’re tugged out of the hazy state the pleasurable friction left you in, finding yourself flipped onto your back on the counter with leon slotting himself between your legs. he doesn’t struggle with the belt in his fingers and the metal clanking of the buckle against the tiled floors reverberates in the kitchen.

your mouth salivates, hands rushing down to remove your own trousers.

a/n; long time no see, lovelies! i’m so sorry for the year long hiatus. if it was a crime to be erratic in posting i’d be in for life. this is super rushed and not checked, so if there’s any spelling errors lmk! i’ve been super starved of fic ideas or anything of the sort and feel like my writings not up to par. feel free to suggest anything I could work with, and if I disappear for another year or so please don’t hold it against me 😭🙏

[burntoutdaydreamer]

I’ve been seeing a lot of posts in the wake of the election, of people telling each other not to end their lives. I’ve reblogged a lot of them, but I wanted to give my two cents as well.

I remember what it was like to be suicidal. I remember how hard it was to not give up. So I wanted to share with you the words my therapist told me that ended up saving my life:

“I’m not going to tell you not to commit suicide. Because the truth is, that’s not my call to make. I can’t see what’s going on inside your head. You’re the only one who gets to decide whether your pain is something worth bearing. What I’m here to do is to move suicide from your Plan B to your Plan Z. And we’re going to work together to map out a game plan, so that you have a list of options you can run through before you have to resort to that Plan Z.”

And I remember why these words saved me. It was because for the first time in my life, someone was validating my struggle. Someone was recognizing just how hard it was for me to keep fighting, instead of telling me that I needed to keep on pushing through. And that validation was, ironically, what gave me the strength to keep going.

Your pain is real. Your pain is valid. You are the only one who gets to decide if it’s too much to bear. All I can say is that that pain is not guaranteed to last forever, even if your brain- and the news- is trying its hardest to convince you that it will.

You don’t owe it to anyone to stick around forever. But you do owe it to yourself to hang on a little longer, just to see if there’s an easier, less permanent way to end your pain. Because as long as you’re still breathing, that chance at a happier life is still there, even if it feels impossible right now. I should know, because I found it.

So take a deep breath. Make a promise to yourself to live just one more day. Just one. And the day after that, do the same. Keep doing it as long as you need to, or as long as you have the strength to. Because eventually there will come a day where you won’t have to make that bargain with yourself. Where you’ll actually want to live, rather than just living by default. It’s worth waiting around until then, even if that respite doesn’t last forever.

So find a reason to live just for today. It doesn’t have to be profound or meaningful. It could be as simple as wanting to catch up on your favorite show. It could be sheer fucking spite if it needs to be. The orange man could keel over and die tomorrow for all we know. Dude’s 78 after all- isn’t it worth sticking around to see if that happens?

One way or another, you won’t be hurting forever. There will be an end to your pain. Hopefully, you won’t need Plan Z to get to that point. But you will find peace again, I promise you that.

We will get through this. Together.

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

under the stars~ Pope heyward

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language.

You’re standing on a lonely dock, staring at the ocean stretching out in front of you. The full moon casts silver trails across the waves, the water glistening as it laps against the shore. The quiet of the night, with only the sound of the waves and the breeze tousling your hair, creates a magical and intimate atmosphere, and for a moment, you almost forget you’re not alone. Then, you hear footsteps behind you.

“I thought I’d find you here,” Pope says, with that sweet, sincere smile only he can pull off. He joins you and sits down by your side, leaving you momentarily speechless. He’s always been your friend—the one who listens without judging—and you didn’t expect to find him here, not at a time like this.

“You really can’t stay away from this place, can you?” you say, trying to lighten the sudden tension that’s settled between you two. He glances at you quickly, as though he’s searching for something hidden in your words.

“There are a lot of places I’d rather be,” he replies, and his gaze lingers on you a little too long. That silence, the soft light playing across his face and illuminating his eyes, seems to say something neither of you has ever dared to put into words.

You blush, looking down at your hands resting on the rough wooden planks of the dock. “We’ve always been friends, you and I,” you murmur, as if trying to remind both of you of your place in this story, though you’re not sure you really believe it yourself.

“It hasn’t always been enough for me,” he says quietly, his voice so soft that you almost don’t hear him. Then he moves a little closer, and you can feel the warmth of his skin next to yours.

“What are you trying to tell me, Pope?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitates, but in his eyes, you see a new determination, something you’ve never seen there before. “I’m saying that… every time I see you, every time you talk to me, there’s only one thing I can think about. I can’t help it. I’ve tried, really, but…”

The words hang in the air, and your heart races in your chest. Part of you wants to stop him, to remind him of everything complicated that’s happened among the Pogues, between your life and his. But there’s another part of you that can’t resist wanting to know what it would feel like.

“Pope…” you whisper, as he leans in a little closer.

Then, without any more hesitation, he looks straight into your eyes, and his face moves slowly toward yours. “I can’t keep holding back how I feel,” he murmurs just before his lips brush against yours.

The kiss is gentle, almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid of breaking something fragile between you. But then you feel his hands holding your face, and you realize this is something you’ve both been waiting for far longer than either of you ever wanted to admit.

And in that moment, under the starry sky and the sound of the waves, every thought fades, leaving only the two of you and that perfect moment you’ve both kept hidden inside.

The kiss intensifies, like an explosion held too long, and the whole world around you seems to dissolve. His lips are soft and slow, but there is a growing passion, something deep that leaves you breathless. Feel his hands gliding down your back and holding you with a delicacy but with a determination you had never felt before.

Then, without warning, Pope picks you up with surprising ease. His arms are strong and secure, and you can’t help but let go. In a moment, your legs are tied around his waist, trying to get closer still, as if you were afraid that the moment might vanish.

Your hands get lost in his hair, pulling it gently, as if to hold him there with you. He lets out a slight sigh, and the sound makes you shiver. His mouth moves with a new confidence, a passion that makes you tremble. Each kiss seems deeper, as if he was trying to imprint that moment in every fiber of his being.

Your body is wrapped in its warmth, and even the cold of night seems far away, as if only he could keep you safe. You are lost in that kiss, feeling its breath mixing with yours, the beats of your hearts that accelerate in unison.

Pope pauses for a moment, leaning his forehead against yours as he breathes deeply, almost incredulous of having you there so close. In a low, broken voice she whispers to you: "I don’t know how I have been able to resist you so far."

You smile, your face still glowing, and gently caress his face. "Then stop trying," you whisper to him, not letting go of his gaze.

And so, in that silent night, under the stars and the infinite sky, he lets you go completely to that moment, holding on to him as if it was the only thing that really matters.

You were kissing with a more ardent passion while you tried to raise his shirt and he immediately pulled it out throwing it on the ground and did the same thing with yours. In a moment you undressed and the same thing did with his clothes.

He sat down and pulled you on him while both of you groaned for touching your intimacy

You wanted more and you started rubbing at him while both groan in your mouths.

"You’re so beautiful" he said as you aligned to its length.

Pope sighed as he slowly pushed it all the way in, knowing full well that his cock was too long for one shot.

Pope could only come to you as he saw you grab his dick while you clung to his back and sighed.

"More" you said as you were getting hungry for his dick, he’s satisfied.

When you took all his cock in your pussy you kept it more on his shoulders while you moaned and started to move and bounce making both moans.

"So great... so beautiful" you said whining as Pope sighed for pleasure while increasing his impulses more and more.

Pope gently stroked your side and then dropped his hand on your ass and squeezed it as he took a nipple in your mouth. You began to groan as you moved your hips more and praised his name.

"Pope more" you said moaning and he satisfied you, banging his cock more violently into your pussy making you come.

Pope pulled his mouth off your tit to give it a squeeze and then kiss you while he hammered into you at a steady pace and came inside you.

"Best night of my life" you said and he chuckled nodding and then gently kissed your forehead.

[pancho-pinto]

I think we'll be okay

gift for @lampinnit for @mcyt-trick-or-treat!

Fandom: Dream SMP Words: 1,089 Rating: General Warnings: No Warnings Relationships: Tommy & Tubbo & Ranboo Additional Tags: Tommy-centric, Hanging Out Summary: Tommy hangs out with Tubbo and Ranboo, and nothing really happens. After everything, that's all they can ever want.

fic under cut

Tommy looks at the sky, watching the sun set slowly. 

Ranboo and Tubbo are arguing about something dumb behind him, and the breeze touches his face, drying the sweat on his skin. He can feel the strain on his muscles, the weight of his sword on his hand feels semi-nice. His leather armor is light, and for once, he did not fight for the chance to live another day. 

No, not today. 

At Tubbo’s insistence, they rummaged through abandoned chests, pushed through cobwebs and got dirty under their fingernails looking for spare leather pieces. Worn and old and stained, but enough to make some armor. Their swords were chipped and wobbly, dull from having been inside chests so long, but they did not mind as they pulled them out, raising it to the air in an act of defiance. 

Things change, and one day, things are no longer what they were before. 

It’s still a sword, Tubbo’s words echo as they slashed the air carelessly, Ranboo hurriedly jumping out of the way for safety. Despite everything, it’s still a sword. 

Without its shine or its sharpness, without enchantments or engravings to claim ownership, they are still swords. 

So they grabbed a handful, rattling in their arms as they made their way through ruins. Memories flood their minds, yet the melancholy is replaced with something nicer, sweeter, softer. 

Ranboo gushes over a series they have been writing. Tubbo nonchalantly mentions some machinery capable of reaching the center of the world. And Tommy… Tommy talks about his sheep, a little friend he made a while ago. 

He looks at the horizon and remembers his cottage, something small and easy to keep-up with. For himself and his sheep. And he finds, after a while, that being alone is not so bad. He finds his friends when he wants, no interceptions, no fights. Just a couple hours together to goof around and be stupid. Then he goes home, then he comes back, then he goes home at will. 

He finds breathing easier. He finds existing easier. 

But the sun dips further, and the sky darkens. 

Tonight they will not go home instantly, rather, at Niki’s invitation, they will join her and Jack for supper. 

They do that often too. A couple hours together to eat and be. 

He looks forward to those nights, especially. Sure, being stupid with Tubbo and Ranboo is always nice, but a hearty soup and some warm bread beats anything. All day Niki and Jack would have spent in the kitchen to prepare this meal, and Tommy cannot wait for it. 

“Hey, big man, you alright over there?” Tubbo calls, voice followed by some footsteps. Closer, closer, and Tommy finds himself not flinching. He has not flinched for a while, none of them have. 

“Uh, not that I don’t care, but if you need a moment, maybe you could wait until we get to Niki and Jack’s place?” Ranboo adds, his tone always laced with worry. But there is that purr of an enderman under his voice, jarringly worried as always. “You– You know, mobs will start spawning and, uh, we don’t really– we aren’t really armed for that. Or anything, really.”

“What do you mean?” Tubbo questions, and his sword slashes the air as he unsheaths it. “I’ve my sword! And TNT! We’ll be fine, Ranboo!”

“Absolutely not to the TNT!”

“It’s good. Convenient. Clears up a wide area in a short amount of time. Do you know how well it is at clearing up space? And– And you shouldn’t worry, I have plenty of practice. I am practically an expert at TNT now. A– A TNT techni- tech… technizioner? No, that’s not– TNT techi… cian? TNT technician. That’s it. That.” 

“If Niki– Oh, if Niki finds out we got injured on the way, she’ll be upset! Plus, that’s just plain reckless. And, and– And unnecessary!”

Tubbo thumps with a huff, and Ranboo replies with enderian whizzing. 

These days, Tommy finds that he does not want to insert himself, even in petty, inconsequential squabbles. He finds, too, that watching is enough. Even fun, at times. Ranboo and Tubbo just have clashing personalities, and he is sure he would not trade them for anything in the world. 

They are worth it, after all. Despite it all. 

Tommy sighs, putting on a show of exasperation as he finally turns back to see them in a glare stand-off, and quickly tries to put an annoyed frown. He tries to clench his jaw and grit his teeth, but it hurts too much to hold for more than a second. In place, he crosses his arms. 

“Do you have to fight every time we hang out?”

“It’s not a fight,” Tubbo states with confidence. 

Then Ranboo adds quickly, an almost practiced routine between them, “Just a mere disagreement that will get resolved quickly.”

He rolls in his eyes, then gestures with his head towards the path, “Yeah, right, sure.”

They walk on rickety boards, the path rotting at the edges, vines and weeds slowly crawling over it. But it is familiar, and this is nothing they think about twice anymore. Just a path, the route to take them from one place to another. 

Tommy falls a step behind, allowing himself to reminisce despite knowing he should not. Because the bad comes with the good, but he cannot have the good without the bad, and he knows he is not ready yet to face all the bad like this. There is too much, so much that happened over a very long time, right on this path, this very world. 

He moved away long ago. Ranboo has too. Tubbo is still near. Niki and Jack are still the closest, seemingly able to move on readily. One of these days, he needs to ask them how they have drawn the line so clearly. And one of these days, he hopes he can move on too. 

Maybe he should gather his things and move as far as he can, far in the horizon where no one has been before. A change of scenery, putting distance between his past life and his future life. Start from zero. 

That is an option. 

Go the distance and never look back, that is an option. 

But those are thoughts for another day. For now, he looks back over his shoulder, looking at the spot where their broken swords and ripped leather littered the ground. A final look for tonight, for a moment. 

The sun falling under the horizon behind their bench.

[paverics]

I went and found every single (I think) wlw movie or tv show listed on tubi. there are….lots, and probably still some that I missed. so join me as I list them

eva + candela, twin flame, blood beach betrayal, killer body count, lowlifes, three, kiss me, walk with me, adan, lip service, I can’t think straight, girl trash all night long, the affair, the sweetest kiss, my days of mercy, my first girl crush, good kisser, a song of a girl, flunk, anatomy of a love seen, my new girl crush, concerto for abigail, who am I now?, snapshots, stuff, a place we go to, her side of the bed, t11 incomplete, lockdown lovers, nina, claire of the moon, my last girl crush, looking for her, my normal, a flower box for rosie, girls like magic, me myself and her, august at twenty two, writing kim, the feels, the light touch, all about e, girl place, ellie and abbie and ellie's dead aunt, cry folx, wynonna earp vengence, but I’m a cheerleader, liberty’s secret, castaways, the miseducation of cameron post, sister my sister, you me her, professor Marston and the wonder women, clementine, boy meets girl, the secrets, princess cyd, the chambermaid Lynn, Christmas with love, waiting amber, the truth about Jane, moonlit winter, dawn her dad and the tractor, the last conception, losing chase, turned out, x, twisted marriage therapist, love augmented, trifecta, alliance, wish, the adored, the white book, orange blossoms, more than friends, the guest house, an unexpected love, palitan, you will be mine, between us, elena undone, a perfect ending, the girl king, seeking dolly parton, carmilla, seventeen, liz in september, the space between words,

for the record, most of these….are really bad. some of them are even downright fucking horrendous. but there’s lots of them. and they’re free. i said it before and i’ll say it again, tubi has the biggest range of wlw options i’ve ever seen. so in no particular order here are the ones I have seen and personally recommend:

dating amber: the ultimate mlm and wlw solidarity movie. gay irish teams beard each other. it’s a coming of age self discovery style movie

the truth about jane: very classic wlw movie. this probably saved lives and I mean that in the most genuine “representation matters” kind of way

boy meets girl: bisexual love triangle movies piss me off because usually there’s a clear choice, like one is an obvious piece of shit and the other is an angel but they still make ~the choice~ a big deal. — this one isn’t like that. I genuinely like all 3 of them, which is nice. the wlw part doesn’t really go anywhere on either side because they both end with men, but it’s a nice movie regardless

clementine: plot is bad. script is bad. sydney sweeney kisses a woman. 10/10

professor marston and the wonder women: guy who made wonder woman was a little freak and his two female partners continued living together and raising their kids after his death allegedly as partners but some have since come out and denied that they were in an intimate relationship

the miseducation of cameron post: gay conversion therapy but you can’t stop gay thoughts. good but depressing as hell

castaways: if you can ignore the vocal fry and the fact that this kind of has 2 separate movie plots jammed into one for some reason (apocalypse vs stranded on a desert island) then it’s actually pretty enjoyable. the first 50 minutes or so is sweet and romantic but then a man rocks up and quite literally ruins the safety, tranquility and most importantly the vibes

liberty’s secret: I’ll give you $5 if you can guess what secret liberty is keeping. full disclosure, this movie is a musical. I didn’t realise this when I first saw it and it took me longer than you’d think before I clocked it. after the third musical number, I got suspicious, and then I nearly pissed my pants laughing. preacher’s daughter goes on a political tour for republican party but the republican pr manager is a lesbian democrat. is it good? no. I only put in this section because of how much I enjoyed myself laughing at it being musical

but I’m a cheerleader: i don’t need to say anything. absolute classic. 10/10 no notes

wynonna earp vengence: i actually haven’t seen this and I stopped watching when xavier left. that’s right, baby. I wanted the straights only. I loved them and it hurt when my boy left. it’s probably ok though. I don’t know. people like it

all about e: it’s silly. it’s harmless. it’s kinda funny. there are bad movies in that list above and yes this is one of them, but it could have been worse

looking for her: it’s a christmas movie. gag, I know. this one isn’t that bad though. if my memory is right, it’s a fake dating christmas lesbian movie that ends happily. it’s fine

who am I now?: if good luck babe were a movie, I guess. almost drove me insane because the actors look familiar in ways I can’t explain but their imbd page is empty. anyway, whatever. sometimes you don’t know who you are and that’s fine but then by the time you figure it out, it’s too late. that’s fine too. life is a journey

girl trash all night long: this is the second musical on the list but shut up. I will physically fight any person with a bad thing to say about this. there’s a weirdly high number of actors who were also in the l word, for some reason? I don’t know why. anyway mandy Musgrave and Gabrielle christian were in the fucking trenches for lesbians and bisexuals before your faves ever were, before you were born, they were throwing bricks at stonewall babe. if you head south of nowhere then you arrive at thank you very much for your service ladies. I will put respect on your names even if nobody else does

I can’t think straight: another classic. I haven’t seen it for a long time but I remember it being more political than I originally remembered, but I was basically a kid when I watched it for the first time. most of the women in this movie are awful, whereas the men are wonderful, which is an unexpected turn.

lip service: once upon a time, the british tried to make our own version of the l word. it was somehow even worse. I’m only putting it on this list because I remember being 14 and sneaking it on the tv late at night when my parents were out. it only lasted 12 episodes in total before they binned it

kiss me: technically it’s not incest but if you have to start a sentence like that then it’s not going great. they’re adults. their parents are about to get married. they fall in love. I don’t know why one couldn’t have been like….a cousin’s neighbour instead

lowlifes: “i’d rather eat pussy than people,” says the girl who does both. is this movie good? no but also yes. it has my favourite line out of any movie ever and the whole coming out scene dialogue is just so great. does someone die? don’t ask me that again. it’s fun, it’s violent, it’s camp, it’s twisty and the acting is better than you’d expect it to be

If tubi has a million fans, I am one of them

If tubi has no fans, I am dead

If the world is against tubi, I am against the world

[julescarstairs]

Born to shitpost and scream about the first chapter of tlkof, forced to wait until it arrives in the mail

[cuddlebugmonster]

Hi can I offer you a baby Lou

He's a cutie! Just a lil guy! He also loves cuddles

Hello there !!!!!! what an absolute cutiepie !!!!!! Just a little guy <3<3<3<3 I hope he’s ok with meeting his half sister from another universe !! Pyonpyon also loves cuddles and especially cute babies <3<3<3

[abigail]

ok so. if anyone remembers the post I made the other day about finally healing my hand here is an update for you (well. for me to look back on really but .. yeah .. I’m sharing it with you all too hehe)

I just took off the dressing/bandage/thingy for the first time in a couple of days to properly clean and moisturise it etc and let my hand ‘breathe’ a bit tonight and uh.. I hadn’t properly seen the skin on my hand while it’s been on and then I was washing my hands feeling how much it’s healed as well as seeing it and I fully started crying… like.. it’s actually getting better ??? holy shit ???? it looks so much better and it feels so soft already too and yeah.. I feel like I’m in shock a little bit tbh

I thought it might work but I wasn’t certain,, like I wasn’t holding my breath because I’ve tried so many other things before that helped a little but not really and honestly the difference in such a short time with this new thing is crazy.. it’s still far off from being fully healed but fuck. I feel like I might actually get there someday now.. I’ve. never thought that before.. wow ok.. anyway goodnight :-) <3

[omotelie]

WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO

[caelum-in-the-avatarverse]

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available. 

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community. 

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company? 

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists. 

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom 

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

-

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits. 

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people. 

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it. 

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

[luveline]

i have a request for roommate!spencer where he's just miserable that no one remembered his birthday at work but when he gets home his roommate just welcomes him with the most thoughtful gift and a warm hug PLEASE

thank you for requesting! <3 fem!reader

The lights are off. The air conditioning blows a shade too cold. Spencer shrugs off his jacket and acknowledges that, despite his awful, aching day, it’s nice to be home. 

The living room is clean where it hadn’t been this morning when he left. If he had to clean it by himself, he’d die. It must’ve taken a good hour or longer, even the floor shines sparkling clean. 

“Hey?” he asks into the open air, wondering where you are. 

“Spencer!” you yelp from the kitchen, “Hey, what took you so long? It’s almost seven!” 

He sighs to himself with a great dash of self-pity. “I know. Had to stay and finish something. You cleaned?” 

“I had to! Quick, come in here, I need your help with something.” 

He doesn’t want to help, he wants to lay down in bed. Spencer wonders how a normal person, a normal boy, would feel after a day like today. He wonders if Morgan would go home and lay in bed and cry. He wonders if it could ever be possible for everyone to forget Morgan’s birthday. 

Spencer hangs his jacket on the rack and puts his bag by the shoes. He’s tempted to go to bed and pretend he hasn’t heard you, but he supposes he shouldn’t. He’d sort of been hoping you’d text him happy birthday, and but that never happened. He doesn’t think anybody in the world besides his mom knows what day it is today, and Spencer had to remind her, so. 

“Spence,” you say, your smile of a calibre he’s never witnessed, standing in front of the kitchen island with your hands behind your back, “I hope you know I’ve been waiting two whole hours for you to get back. Actually, I’ve been waiting all day, but you can’t be blamed for working. Okay. Are you ready?” 

“Am I ready? What did you want help with?” 

You step to the side, grinning, the sleeves of your nice blouse like big, soft petals around your wrists and against your thighs. “Tada!” you say, guiding his attention to the silver platter on the countertop, a chocolate cake at centre stage and stuck with candles, flames aglow. “I rushed to light them when I heard the door,” you tell him, and he can hear your breathlessness now, your excitement for him evident. “A lot of candles, you’re getting old! Too old for chocolate sprinkle. I should’ve got you something sophisticated.” 

“You got me a cake?” 

“It’s your birthday,” you say happily. “Happy birthday, Spencer. I got you some presents, too, but the cake is the best, it’s from the Leaven. How fancy is that?” 

“Will you sing?” he asks. 

He doesn’t know why he asks. He’s mostly kidding, but you smile shyly and beckon him toward you. “I’ll sing. Come stand over here.” 

You sing him happy birthday, and he blows out his candles, only ten candles altogether but enough to feel like a kid as the heat kisses his chin. 

“Okay, and I got you this,” you say, finally pulling both hands from behind your back, seemingly eager to move the focus from your performance.

It’s a bundle about as thick as an average novel. He knows it’ll be books before he opens it, because you know him, and it’s in your nature to give him your everything. 

He doesn’t look at them. He takes the package blindly and shoves it onto the counter, wrapping you in a hug so hard it makes your back click. “I’m sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t let go. You don’t make him. “Sorry, I just– I–” You’re the only one who remembered. “Thank you for the cake.” 

You hug him not quite as hard, but tight. “Hey, it’s okay. I love you, you’re my best friend ever, you can pop me like a roll of dough any day of the week.” You might be exaggerating. Spencer doesn’t know. “But especially today, you know. You can have anything you want.” 

Spencer should let go. Anything you want, you’d said. He hugs you until he’s sure you’re sick of him, your thumb pressing little circles into his shoulder, his arms tucked up under your armpits and around your back. “Thanks,” you murmur.

“What?” he asks. “For what?” 

“For such a good hug. And being a great roommate. And for not complaining about the candles.” 

“The candles are perfect.” 

You lean back in his arms. “Thank you. Now what do you want first, cake or dinner?” 

Spencer really wants another hug. “Um. Cake?” 

“Good choice, handsome.”

His cheeks are pink by the time he gets a slice, but it’s the best birthday cake he’s ever had.