#So they can run away from the gender police

[zenaidamacrouras1]

Yesterday I was at a store (trying to get my girlchild a new lunchbox that's "sparkly but green not pink" because she utterly obliterated current lunchbox by winding up and throwing it down a hill and then chasing after it on a regular basis for months but ANYWAY) and there were two humans that I would describe as "white middle class grandma" and "4 year old girlchild" and (as I was inspecting space themed lunchboxes to see if they have the structural integrity to hold up to my child who was reincarnated from a tornado and because the only sparkly option was not only pink but had cartoons of babies wearing highheels and stars are technically sparkly, yes?) I overheard the most aggressive gender training.

"i like these light up sneakers" (child)

"those are a baby size sweetie" (grandma)

"oh good we can get them for my baby"

"your baby brother is a boy and these are girl shoes"

Me: feels flames on the side of my face.

"I like this lunchbox"

"that has spiderman that's a boy lunchbox"

This went on. But here's the thing. I think they weren't even there to buy anything specific just wandering around the store with Grandma which is sweet enough but it turned into "arbitrary gender bootcamp" of gendering every inanimate object in the store.

I didn't say anything because I am either too civilized or too uncivilized in this stage of my decades long journey to hide that I am also a tornado poorly disguised as a human now forced to raise one distressingly accurate miniature replica of my trash panda self and one young fae prince whose aesthetic vision for his fashion goals can't be hampered by societal expectations but he's only five and I'm pretty sure at some point society is going to make him too shy to wear a princess dress over his dinosaur costume to the zoo and I will have to murder society.

But if you have small humans in your life, please just assume that anything without a brain can't have gender because if you don't you are fucking up that kid but more importantly (to me obviously) creating tiny militarized gender police that are going to insist on trying to make my kids feel like shit.

[hana-no-seiiki]

WHAT’S UP DANGER?

— [ CH 01 ] WITH GREAT ABILITY COMES GREAT ACCOUNTABILITY

pairings: yandere! various (batfam, spiderverse) x miles morales! reader

tw/cw: no yandere themes for this chapter, characters get aged up later on but are teens to young adults now, reader is gender neutral but characters refer to them with masculine terms (hijo, man, dude), spoilers for spiderverse movies. but ofc since this is a crossover it won’t be completely the same.

status: unedited

[masterlist] [next]

REPLY TO BE ADDED TO THE TAGLIST

���Mama, stop you’re covering me with your saliva—!” You groaned as you made a half-assed attempt at pushing your mother away.

It was the first day of your attendance at Gotham Visions and you weren’t the least bit nervous. Not at all. Totally. It wasn’t as if you were just thrusted into this situation with no choice whatsoever in addition to the pressure of your family’s wholeass livelihood on your shoulder. No. You were completely cool with this situation. In fact, you were so cool that you’re almost late to your first day of classes.

“But you look so adorable, mi hijo!” Your mother rubbed her face all over yours, messing up whatever you decided to put on.

“Papa what are you doing? Arrest this woman at once, for gross misconduct or whatever—“

“You do look adorable, and if I do I’d have to be fair and arrest you for vandalism.”

You freeze at your father’s not so subtle call out, before swiftly slithering away from your mother’s bear-like grip.

“Augh! I’m going to be late! Hasta luego!”

It was August. The start of a new school year for you. A new life away from your family and friends.

Gotham Visions University. A campus filled with elitists; fancy rich people. The cream of the crop. Your future school. Being a scholar there would have been fine, amazing even! If it wasn’t something you won through a lottery. You felt like a thief, an imposter. Going to a school for prodigies and rich kids as an average old joe is one thing, going to a school for prodigies and rich kid as a poor lottery student is another.

“[Y/N]! How you doing man? Lookin fancy. The uniform so fits ya.” A kid hangs his arm around you. If you were being completely honest you weren’t sure about his name, but you hung out often for basketball and other activities around the neighborhood. With the amount of people that knew you around the community, it was difficult keeping all those faces in your head so you often covered it up with nicknames.

“Psh. See ya next friday for shawarma?” You winked, cringing a little inside for your actions.

But to your utter surprise, the kid in turn blushes before giving you a massive grin. “You bet. My treat!”

And just a few seconds afterwards, he hits you at the back of the head before leaving, “Hey! Ow.”

“[Y/N]! Good luck on school dude! We’ll miss ya! Don’t be a stranger okay? We’re still friends even if he isn’t here.” He waves you goodbye before returning to your mutual posse of friends.

You wave back at them, your expression slowly turning into a solemn one. “I’ll miss ya guys too.”

Grabbing your trusty wireless headphones, you make your way down the block. Sticking random name-tags you drew this morning to distract yourself from the overflowing anxiety in your system.

Unfortunately, it never is a good idea to be so distracted when walking by yourself.

“Contra!” You hissed as your body hit the pavement. No doubt ruining your uniform that your mother painstakingly agonized over getting perfect and neat for your first day.

Then, the sound of a police siren entered your ears.

Can your day get any worse?

“What did I tell you about not looking both sides twice before crossing the streets?”

Your father’s sermon began.

This . . . was going to be a long ride.

“That I shouldn’t do it.” You replied, completely uninterested in the conversation and looking out from the window.

“You’re lucky it was me y’know! What if some deranged man decided to run you over?”

Your faced smooshed on your hand as your elbow rested on the window sill. “I’d send my cop of a father after them then.”

“Don’t act cute with me [Y/N].”

“But it works oh, so, well.”

Your father sighed, “It does.”

“But with great ability comes great accountability!

“Yeah yeah, that isn’t how the saying goes! . . . It was my bad it won’t happen ag…” Right as you were about to tune out of the interaction with your father once more you notice a bunch of people looking towards your direction.

People you knew.

And now they were taking pictures.

“Wow, aren’t you the popular kid?”

“Mier — Can’t you run the red light or shout at them or something? My poor privacy is being invaded!” You desperately tried to hide yourself with your hands but to no avail. The sounds of clicking only grow louder, and your father’s pace on the car slower.

“Yeah yeah~ not this cop.”

“Papa!”

Suddenly, the attention is ripped off of you as a loud crashing noise resounds from above. “Woah.”

Your dad flicked his tongue in annoyance as he checked the damages. “Those vigilantes! Red Hood is one thing, but that Spider-man partner of his. I swear. He just swings by without a care in the world. I just got this repaired last week!”

“I think he saved you from having to get yourself fixed as well. You know, in a hospital. The place with all the bills that just tears holes into your wallet.” You checked the situation outside, confirming the lack of interest in your situation as people crowded spider-man’s fight. “And myself from a mob too. That man’s a whole multitasker and a half.”

“If you ever get a sibling, remind me not to teach them cheek.”

“That if depends on you, yknow.” You gave your dad the smuggest grin you can muster.

Hey, if he’s going to make you face hell for the next few years you might as well give him a portion of it while you had the time.

The car halts, signaling your arrival at the aforementioned hell. “Study well. Our future depends on you, [Y/N]. Love ya.”

“I know.” You groaned, struggling a little to pull your baggage outside of the vehicle and leaving as soon as you got it secured within your grasp.

You are only able to take a few steps when your dad interrupts with the police car’s loudspeaker.

“Where’s my ‘I love you too, papa’ huh?”

“Papa! Seriously?” You screeched, unimaginably embarrassed beyond belief.

“I love you.”

“Right in front of my future peers?”

“I loovveee youuu.”

“On the first day of class?!”

“Mwah mwah—“

“I LOVE YOU TOO!” You relented. Making a sharp turn from facing the originator of your future bully’s material, towards the entrance of Gotham Visions.

Once you get in you make an attempt to greet the people there, but is cut off by their mocking voices referring and imitating the situation earlier.

The embarrassment fills you up once more and you fail to notice your path intersecting with another.

Directly bumping into people seriously knocks the wind out of a dude. That’s probably why those people in those ‘mangas’ he always made you read fell in love at first sight. They were just so light-headed that they couldn’t think clearly.

“P-pretty girl—“

“It’s nice to meet you too.” said pretty girl as she steadied your form. Noticeably less affected by the impact “You’re quite the looker yourself.”

“Ack, sorry! I just get nervous around- yeah.”

She giggled. Oh lord, even her laugh was pretty. “Lovely papa you got there.”

“Augh, you don’t have to remind me.” You pinched the bridge of your nose, slowly regaining your balance.

The bell rings. The real hell has officially begun.

Once pretty girl made sure you were alright, she began running off.

Wow, even the way she ran was pretty.

“W-w-wait, what’s your name?”

“Gwen!”

You sighed as left you behind in the crowd of students.

This wasn’t so bad, you thought. You made one acquaintance at the very least. Maybe your new life at this school would be better.

Your new life at Gotham Visions was, in fact, not getting better.

You were fumbling through the motions like a newborn thrown to the wolves. If you hadn’t built a relatively tight knit friendship with Gwen you were sure you would have ran away by now.

Everyone always ignored you when you greeted them. Your dormmate didn’t even see you as someone worthy to interact with and would often stay awake at ungodly hours doing whatever the hell he was doing on his laptop while you suffered from his ‘background music.’ Your parents only ever talked to you about academics when it was the last thing you wanted on your mind at weekends. You were always, always late to class.

You were practically falling apart at the seams.

You just . . . wanted everything to end. But you couldn’t bring yourself to defy your parents and so you brought it up to your studies. Purposely failing exams so you’d be kicked out soon enough.

“A zero. How terrible. A few more of those and you’ll have to kick me out huh?” You looked at your Physics teacher with a loosely smug look on your face. You hated Physics, the sciences and mathematics the most out of all subjects. Everything second you spent learning about it could have been spent drawing or doing something you actually adored.

You shrugged, “Maybe I’m just not right for this school.”

“If a person wearing a blindfold picked the answers on a multiple choice exam at random do you know what score they would get?”

“. . . Around 25%?”

“That’s right!” She flicked her pen towards you face before pressing the butt end of it to your paper.

“The only way they would get all the answers wrong . . . “ She then twirls around, marking your grade from 0 to 100 by placing the respective numbers to each side. “Is to know which answers are right.

“You’re trying to quit, and I’m not going to let you.” The smug look only your face slowly dissipates and transfers to her own visage. “Now I know you’ll probably try to worm yourself out of this which is why I’m calling in back-up.”

“Wayne.” The woman moved her gaze to your classmate. A strained smile on her lips as she stared him down.

You didn’t know the billionaire’s son that well, or any of your peers but Gwen for that matter. Just that he was as stuck up as his gelled up hair. Always sneering at you whenever you had to sit beside him with those uncannily pretty green eyes of his. You thought that it may have been your smell or something. Maybe he could tell how poor you are in comparison by your scent. But judging by the fact that he was just as much of a loner as you were if not more, you’re beginning to think otherwise.

“I’m assigning you two an essay, not on physics but on yourselves. What kind of person you want to be. I know you two are quite different in terms of personality and backgrounds, but I have a feeling it’ll all work out.” She walked behind the two of you, roughly placing her hands on both of your shoulders before squeezing you closer together. “And no, Damian. I’ll know if you decide to finish it all yourself. Don’t test me.”

“You two are dismissed!”

Damian takes one look at you and you can tell he’s listed a thousand things he disliked about you already. He re-secured his backpack prior to giving you one, heftily stern warning. “Listen, we’re going to meet at my house this weekend. 6pm. Don’t be late.”

“Sure! Where’s your . . .” and before you could even complete your question, he was gone. Just like that. “. . .house. . .”

You grabbed your own belongings with a moan; betting that the trust fund kid’s own probably costed a hundred if not a thousand more times than yours.

You swiftly go to your room. Mind completely empty and disassociated before an idea crosses your head.

You dial in the numbers on your phone before you could even think properly.

“Hey, Unc. Mind if I come over?”

No matter where you went. The route to your Uncle Aaron’s house was always in the back of your head. He was your true home. The only man who understood you — who made the effort to understand you.

You spot him on his couch, looking as cool and swag as ever with his legs spread a little bit apart. He laughed as you smooshed your face to his window before opening it and letting you tumble into his abode.

You lazily dropped the bag you brought filled with spray paint.

He patted your head and massaged your scalp, the stress you felt already noticed and acknowledged. “Sup little dude. You lookin’ down. Is this about . . .”

“What? No. I’ve already moved on—“You shook your head. In all honesty, the only good part about Gotham Visions was that it kept you distracted from grief. But before you could continue you spot a familiar image settled in a frame. Emotions started crashing down upon you like a tidal wave. “You . . . kept the picture.”

Aaron rubbed his thumb across your cheek as your eyes began watering, “You know I can bring you over to visit him. It’s pretty close by y’know.”

“I- I think I’m good. I came here to just chill out, y’know?”

“Let’s go, I know a spot we can let some of that pent up art juice out.”

A smile. A real one. Not one you forced on yourself whenever you met with your classmates, Gwen or your parents started to make a reprise on your face. You almost don’t remember the last time you did it because of your emotions and not due of the façade of being okay.

“See ya.”

You take one last look at the photo before rushing out with your uncle.

“Mig.”

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[andcars]

# 𝗙𝟭-𝗕𝗙 ─── GETTING CAUGHT STREET-RACING MASTERLIST . . . REQUEST ME . . . TAGLIST . . . AO3

IT'S NOT LIKE YOU to back down from your boyfriend's talents. you go ahead and start street-racing—you never promised to be good at it. but it is just embarassing for your boyfriend to find you in a police station. ───── MV33 LH44 DR3 GR63

TAGS . . . # gender neutral reader, street-racing, light angst, light couple arguments, all happy and sweet ending TYPE OF FIC . . . # headcanons, imagine LENGTH . . . # 1.4k words (around 300w each driver)

MAX VERSTAPPEN should be mad, he really should be, but somehow he isn't. He gets the call in the middle of the night and is half-awake as he listens to an officer rattle on how you got arrested—he listened to an officer rattle in italian in the early morning. whatever it is that he just said went one ear and to another.

"i'm sorry?" he sat up, rubbing at his eyes and hear how the officer changed to English. okay, you got arrested for street racing in italy. in fucking italy. he's being asked to go in person to bail you out. in italy. at 3am. okay. fuck.

as much as he doesn’t want someone to wake up to drive the jet, he isn’t so much keen on driving either. max pays the pilot early and double the moment he sees him, feeling really bad.

he should be totally pissed, he should be. but you’re leaning against the bars pouting as you see him. he doesn’t want to be upset at you, but he feels like he should be.

he sighs and pays your bail. you’re still pouting when you see him, not saying a single word. “will you at least tell me you’re sorry?” he asks, trying to get something out of you. it doesn’t work. “schatje (sweetheart), i had to wake up our pilot for this. at least say sorry to him.”

poor guy. when you get let out, the first thing you do is apologize to monsieur garnier. he’s very kind about it. though, max was right, he did have to wake up early. you're not about to be much of a burden to a man like him.

max doesn't stay mad at you either. it's like he's incapable of it off-track. when both of you are dead tired on the bed, he just pets you asleep. “if you want to race, don’t get caught,” he said, only half awake. “and maybe don’t do it too much like me.”

LEWIS HAMILTON is embarrassed to have gotten the news from social media. it was no more than an hour ago when he checked twitter (he would never call it x) to your arrest. headlines: ‘LEWIS HAMILTON’S LOVER ARRESTED FOR STREET RACING’. the media didn’t even bother to mention your own name.

you bail yourself on your own and come home to an upset lewis. it’s the race weekend, he should be focusing on the race. instead, he can’t stop thinking about your race. one that, of course, you never told him about.

“how long has this been going on?” he asks first.

you shrug, collapsing on the hotel couch. “a few months now.”

“months—“ he gasps into his hands, running them over his head. “and i only found out now?”

you shrug and turn away from him. “it’s my life,” you argue, “and it’s not like i’m the only one with a dirty history in racing.”

you’re bringing up spygate, he knows that. he calms himself before he could say anything hurtful towards you. “i do it in a safe environment—“

“people die during races, lewis”

“—and i play it safe!” lewis has to walk away from this building argument. “baby, i love you, but i don’t think you can compare formula one racing to street-racing. i need you to promise you won’t do this again.”

sure, street-racing is a fun hobby. and you’re still right about formula one racing being just as dangerous. but there’s some things you have to work on in a relationship. finding a middle ground. you sigh, turning to him, “i’ll only race if you can come then.”

he thinks he’s going to have a heart attack.

DANIEL RICCIARDO wouldn’t say he’s a bad influence. however, it’s not like he’s innocent when it comes to this new hobby of yours either. yeah, he never told you to go ahead and start racing like a madman like he was with max on a redbull. but the message was still the same.

the message, of course, simply being: ‘i always wanted to try street-racing. i bet you’d look good doing it.’

it’s on your third race that you got arrested. you phone him yourself and he arrives in the police station with a worried face. he’s not upset, he’s fucking relieved you’re alive.

he asks the officer what happened and is hit in the gut with the fact that you went street-racing. you don’t even look at him to see the disappointed look on his face. it’s embarrassing. you did this just to look cool in your boyfriend’s eyes and it failed. you thought you had more time to improve.

you’re bailed and you and him walk out. “so…” he trails, voice surprisingly calm, “why’d you get arrested?”

weird question. “street-racing?”

he laughs and you finally look at him. he’s just got this stupid smile on his face as he looks at you. “no, i know you got arrested for street-racing, baby. i just wanna know what did you do to get caught?”

a grunt left you as you remember how it went. “one of those fuckers i race with fucking drove me to the side of the road. almost crashed into the river, but i didn’t. the cops manage to arrest only me.”

“aw,” he places an arm around your shoulder and pats your head. “you think they’ll be scared if an f1 driver were to race with them? i gotta make sure you’re protected somehow.”

there’s really just so many things daniel can surprise you with. you don’t know how he managed to surprise you with this too. “you do know we’re like couple of steps away from a police station, right?”

he shrugs. “it’s unfair if only you can be the one to brag that your lover races.”

“i don’t think you can actually brag to anyone that i illegally race, daniel.” he laughs and already is planning how to keep you safe while you enjoy your dangerous little hobby.

GEORGE RUSSELL got the news from a fan. a fan. he can't name a more embarassing moment than someone asking him if he approves of his partner's street-racing. you told him you wouldn't be able to make it to the race because you were with your family. you were not, in fact, with your family.

he arrives at the police station and you're walking back and forth in a cell with some of your buddies. he's red faced as he talks to the police officers and pays for your bail. his heart churns a little when he hears that you're also being fined for destruction of public property. holy shit.

"george—" you try to talk to him but he continues to walk in front of you. a sigh leaves you. "come on, george, i'm really sorry."

he doesn't say anything. however, he does open the door for you to get in. you're not one to turn down the littlest bit of mercy from your boyfriend.

it's unclear to you how you're supposed to fix all of this. you didn't think it was that big of a deal! it's that you made a small mistake, and one of the guys got a little bit too competitive. of course, it was never in the plan to make george find out about this little hobby of yours.

it's at home when he finally talks to you. he asks you, "are you okay?"

"yes," you don't pick a fight with him about how he only asks that now. "i'm okay."

"good," he drops his anger quickly as he embraces you. "why didn't you tell me?"

burying your face in his shoulder, you're hesitating to tell him. "i don't know..."

he calls your name and you give in. "it's just that i wanted to be like you, in a way. but i'm too fucking old for karting now, i doubt anyone would take me in."

gently, he pulls you away to caress your face. he looks at you like you've done no wrong, like an utter angel in his eyes. he tells you, "baby, if you wanted to go racing then we could go racing. hell, maybe i could pay someone to give us a circuit for a while and we can go karting ourselves."

"it's not the same—"

"of course it's not the same," he cuts you off. "because it's gonna be you and me. not you and some random people that are probably out for blood. it's you, who loves me. and me, who loves you. we'll both be safe and i can be there to watch you win."

your heart hurts from how much george loves you. a smile comes to you and he immediately kisses your forehead. you tell him, "you'll never let me win."

he laughs, "yeah, i won't."

🗒 𝗣𝗔𝗣𝗘𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗜𝗟 . . . i am alive ~ anyways. here's a funky little thing. i love the idea of street-racing so bad even though i have no knowledge about it other than drive fast recklessly. also ! i'm opening up a prompt list soon for requests so if you have any ideas for prompts (dialogues and tags), feel free to send it over to my inbox or comment ! ˎˊ˗ ᝰ.

──── 📨 @delululeclerc @coconut-dreamz

you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! ── by andcars ⟡

[caffeineandsociety]

The more I think about it the more I suspect that a lot of the reason people are resistant to the concept of transandrophobia is that to accept it would make it harder to avoid reckoning with the way we treat men of color, and hell, POC in general.

I know part of it is just...a long-running misunderstanding of intersectionality as "the intersection of various axes of oppression, in which Privileged Identities are irrelevant or even take away from it" rather than "the intersection of all aspects of a person's identity to form a whole that may look very different from someone else who shares a singular trait, or unexpectedly similar to someone who doesn't", and thus reading the concept as "ACKSHUALLY it's WOMEN who oppress MEN and so WE'RE the ones with TWO Oppression Points, not those stupid and shallow and overprivileged trans women!"

But I cannot help but suspect that a lot of people really fucking don't WANT to break away from that misinterpretation because it would mean having to reckon SPECIFICALLY with how that misinterpretation has hurt POC. How it reinforces all the ideas that lead to the brutalization of MOC. How some "anti-racist" people on this site would absolutely have sided against Emmett Till had they lived in that time with the same mindset - that it's not a coincidence that the decline of Black tumblr became so sharp around the George Floyd protests. How they only care about how Black and brown women are masculinized and transvestigated so far as they can hold them up as "collateral damage" evidence of why we should leave white trans people alone.

And honestly, I HOPE that as this exclusionism wave dies down, it doesn't just come with the recognition of the risks that white transmascs face, or white transmascs claiming the increased risks of police brutality as their own struggle first and foremost; I want it to be a fucking leg-up to acknowledging the way gender intersects with MULTIPLE other factors INCLUDING RACE.

I know that "popping the bubble" - grappling with the fact that the way you've misunderstood something has hurt people - is painful. I get it. But you have to fucking do it because the alternative is "keep hurting other people."

[loveandmurders]

Hello🖤

If you're accepting requests i may have a fun idea. I've had this scenario in my head for a while but dont have the writing skills for it.

So basically billy, stu and reader (all three were ghostface) escaped from the police and while on the run (let's ignore geography for this) they come across a kind (but a bit strange) man who carries roadkill on the back of his truck and he kindly gives them a ride to the nearest town - Ambrose. Slasher shenanigans ensue

The reader can be gn, the gender doesnt really matter. You can choose if you want to write a blurb, headcannon and stuff

Im sorry if this too much to ask and you can tottaly ignore this

Hello, love sorry it took me so long to get to your request, but here you are! Hope you'll enjoy <3

SOME INTERESTING HOLIDAYS (Ghostface x GN!reader)

Warnings: no proof reading, mentions of sexual activities, of blood and violence

-You hadn’t thought things would go so out of hand. But now the more you thought about it, the more obvious it was that your plan wasn’t a flawless one… you actually forgot the essential (like in most horror movies): a good ending - especially for the killers.

-You killed everyone - no final girl for once.

-And your two lovers would have enjoyed playing with you in the blood of their victims and glory of the victory, but you quickly realised you had to leave before the cops could find you.

-So here you were, with your two lovers - Billy and Stu - running away as far as possible and as quick as possible from Woodsboro.

-Billy was a little bit annoyed he was forced to leave the city. He hadn’t really thought of the consequences of all of this, and maybe it was also why he was feeling so upset. He was supposed to be a mastermind.

-Stu was laughing, he was so proud of what happened and adrenaline was still pumping into his veins. His hands were happily roaming your body as Billy was driving.

-As long as your boys were safe, you were happy too. You kissed Stu with fierce passion until you heard Billy groan.

-You sent him a little look, quite curious about why he was so grumpy now. “Don’t distract me” Billy finally said and both Stu and yourself started to laugh and to tease him.

-Your life was a dangerous one and you didn’t even know what you were going to do with yourself now, but as long as you were all together, you didn’t really care.

-The three of you drove for days and weeks; you were starting to get bored actually, and there was no plan on when to stop or even where. Until you saw some advertisements for a “House of Wax”.

-Billy didn’t want to stop for this but you whined so much - and Stu supported you - so he finally gave in. He rolled his eyes and reminded the two of you you were children.

-It was then you met a truck on the other side of the road. The driver stopped at your level and lowered down his window “All good?” he asked you in a very heavy southern accent. You peered into the truck and could see roadkills, but the man looked sweet.

-You knew you all looked innocent as well though; so you knew better than to judge a book by its cover.

-Billy explained to the man that you were on holiday and you wanted to visit the House of Wax since you saw the advertisements. He also asked if there was a motel nearby. 

-The man - Lester - said there was no motel near the House of Wax, that you would need to go into another town for that. However, the museum was a really interesting place. It appeared that his late mother and brother were taking care of it.

-You all politely thanked Lester and agreed to follow behind his truck to not get lost on the roads. The man was nice but you all felt something was… amiss.

-When you arrived in Ambrose, you all exchanged a look.

-“If that’s not a killer on the run dream…” Billy muttered as he looked around “No one could find us here” he continued.

-“But there is no motel around either.” you hummed “And it really looks… deserted. I didn’t even see Ambrose on the plans when we looked at the last gas station.” you added “How could people still live here?”

-“Well you'll quickly know it, because we’ll try to stay here, at least for a little while. No one can find us.” Billy replied and you pouted.

-“We’ll get bored here” you whined but the boys gave you a look full of promise; how could you get bored when they were around?

-You all got out of the car and thanked Lester again. He also introduced you to his big brother, Bo.

-Bo instantly watched you all with great interest. You were young, you were hot and he was certain you would all look amazing in the House of Wax.

-No need to say that the twins were very surprised about how good you were when they tried to kill you, and that you were now the ones trying to kill them. With Lester, you were clearly on equal strength.

-You had discovered that the town was empty apart from the Sinclairs and the wax statues and you started to understand that it was like a massive deadly trap. But you were good with your knives and you actually were crazy enough to enjoy it. It was like a workout for the three of you.

-At some point, you managed to jump on Vincent and to put a knife under his chin. Bo aimed at you, Billy aimed at Bo with a gun he found and Stu blocked Lester from coming closer.

-“Alright, alright, how ‘bout we talk ‘bout this?” Bo finally offered. He noticed that Vincent didn’t try to get away from you, so it meant his twin could tell you would slice his throat open if he tried anything.

-“You’re the ones who attacked us” Billy argued back.

-“Is it like a playground for killers?” you hummed and Stu smirked.

-“Who the fuck are ya?” Lester frowned.

-“Who we are doesn’t matter, what matters is that we are killers. Just like you. But right now, Y/N is the best of us and they are going to kill your brother if you don’t let us go” Billy replied and you looked up at Bo with a dark smile, drawing a little bit of blood from Vincent.

-Bo instantly lowered his gun, put it on the ground and Lester moved away a little as well. They both put their hands up. You exchanged a look with Billy and Stu before moving from Vincent. You were all facing each other now, wondering what to do next.

-The Sinclairs had never met people like them, especially not people so brutal, so smart and so dangerous than you all. They felt curiosity, even more when Billy wrapped an arm around your waist and you moved your head on Stu’s shoulder. You looked like the lovers of Death. So young and so good looking, and yet so deadly.

-“Ya’re on the run” Bo hummed “And ya were lookin’ for somewhere to stay” he guessed. Vincent signed something to his brothers. Lester didn’t seem too happy about it and Bo thought his twin was losing it.

-“What did he say?” you asked with an arched eyebrow. No one answered you and it annoyed the boys “They asked you a question” Billy growled.

-“Vincent’s invitin’ ya over… he’s really interested in ya’ll” Bo finally replied.

-You were always the one enjoying playing with fire the more so you quickly moved closer and shook hands with Vincent.

-“I’d like that. I’m Y/N, nice to meet you, I guess” you smirked.

-Vincent and you got along pretty instantly, even though you didn’t know ASL. He wrote to you so you could communicate. Your shared love for knives helped a lot as a discussion starter. And then, your love to sneak around and kill people. And then, your love for every kind of art. You wanted to hide in Ambrose now and Vincent was more than eager to welcome you here. It would be nice to have people around who were understanding his way of life. And there were so many houses that could be your new home, at least for as long as you needed to hide away.

-Bo and Billy weren’t too happy about it, because it wasn’t part of the plan, because they couldn’t trust anyone, because they would need to be even more careful than usual so their favourite people wouldn’t get hurt.

-Stu was happy if you were happy, even if he was a little bit jealous of the attention you were giving to Vincent, at first. So he joined the two of you in your conversation, and he actually started to have fun as well. Lester noticed how Vincent seemed to be relaxed and it warmed his heart. It never happened before that his brother was so at ease around strangers.

-You all ate together in Sinclair's house. Bo stayed quite silent, observing you all, just like Billy. At some point, he asked: “So what, ya ain’t surprised my brother’s wearin’ a mask?” he asked. He just wanted for you to say something that would upset Vincent so they would kill you all in your sleep.

-But the three of you just shrugged “You’re kidding, masks are super cool. We’ll show you ours tomorrow” you smiled and the boys nodded “What’s a killer without a mask anyway?” Billy agreed “It’s classic horror” he added “Yeah so lame of you, Bo, to not wear any mask, by the way. You could have been the masked twins, ugh such a missed opportunity” Stu continued.

-Lester started to laugh and he thought he quite liked you all. You were some fresh air in Ambrose, fun and crazy. He knew it was the beginning of a new era for his family.

-Bo was bewildered but he guessed you weren’t so bad then. You had been polite with Lester and you weren’t judging his twin, so you could stay. Maybe he would even learn to love you.

-Vincent was eager to keep you all in Ambrose, forever. Maybe you could even help the Sinclairs build the future. You were going to be part of the family, he could feel it because you were different from usual people.

-You were monsters, too.

[johnbrand]

Normal, SC

With @mrrharper

Officer Justin O’Shaughnessy reluctantly hopped into his patrol vehicle. He had been transferred out of South Carolina’s capital to the tiny town of Normal, population definitely under a thousand. When Justin had enlisted to the new town, he had not dreamt of it being so traditional. Less than 45 minutes away, Columbia had a thriving queer community that Justin and his boyfriend were well involved in. Even their police force was welcoming. But this new position in Normal felt anything but.

Before Officer O’Shaughnessy had even entered the building, he already received sideways glances. He appeared nothing like the other overly manly men there, his more androgynous appearance colliding with the two genders established by the town. But through his worry, Justin did feel a sense of pride by bringing a bit of diversity to the town, at least in terms of sexuality. And now here he was, on his first assignment with his new patrol route.

Unaccustomed to the height of his new vehicle–a literal truck rather than the typical sedan–Justin took a deep breath before grabbing the keys. His job was easy today. The Chief wanted him to get adjusted to town, harmonize himself with it. “Things work a little differently around ‘ere,” the Chief’s Southern twang sticking out a bit at the end. “The quicker you learn to fit in and be like all the other men, the better.”

It took Justin a moment to figure out how to get the truck started, after all he drove a Prius–wait, a foreign car? Heck no, he only drove American vehicles. Shaking his head, Justin started the engine and pulled out of the station. He was feeling confident, the Chief’s words flashing through his mind as he began his patrol.

Unsurprisingly, there were not that many streets in town to check out. The main road, the side roads, the business versus residential roads. It was not anything like Columbia, that beautiful, expansive, expensive, crowded, woke wasteland. Nah, Justin liked the speed of this town a lot better. It was quaint and slow, everything moved at its own pace. It was not influenced by those protests or silly parades.

After a while, Justin decided to pull over to stretch. His body was already aching, although he could not explain why. He had kept himself slim over the years through marathons and–running? Justin chuckled to himself. Yeah right! He worked out at the local gym everyday, pumping each of his muscle groups to their fullest capacity. He wanted to be big after all, just like all the other guys on the force. So he must have been sore from the nightmare of a workout Chief had dumped on him earlier to get a gauge of his abilities. Justin had perfectly met the average.

Justin peered at the time from his dashboard when he reentered the truck, noticing it was already time for his lunch break. Excited, he pulled out his bag and started grabbing items. Tomato sandwich, baked veggie chips, hummus…wait, was this his lunch? He went through the items again. Thick club sandwich with extra meat, two bags of potato chips, can of cheap beer. Yeah, that seemed a lot more appropriate. A real man needed to eat a real man’s lunch after all. Justin was relieved his wife had not packed him some vegetarian or vegan bull crap.

Justin paused for a moment, demolishing his meal before starting the truck up again. He had a wife? Well sure he did! Just about every man in town had one. He fiddled with his ring finger subconsciously as he daydreamt about his beautiful bride. Eventually, Justin began fiddling with the plumper, bloated “finger” in his pants too as he daydreamt about his beautiful bride. What was her name again? Marcus…Markie…Margie! Lovely, pregnant Margie.

Justin refocused on the job at hand, he was to become a father soon after all. All the other men in the small town were already dads, and he was slacking! He was about to turn 24 and had no kids to show for it. Luckily, he was spared with some mature masculine features. Justin had grown out a beard as soon as he could, and a fluffy mat of body hair only accentuated this fact. Of course, he was not mature all the time. He had no problem roughhousing and dutch-ovening the other officers–it was just men being men after all!

Justin laughed to himself, waving to a few men as he passed by them. It was funny how all the men in Normal looked pretty similar. Even Justin was fitting the mold. All a couple of inches over six feet; those packed, muscular builds sustained by home cooked Southern meals from the misses; dressed in either similar work clothes, home clothes, or church clothes. Their interests and morals were so well-aligned too. It was like the town had its own personal standard for everyone to follow.

Registering the time once more, Justin sighed…Jared sighed disappointedly as his shift had once again come to an end. Pulling back into his spot in the station’s parking lot, he was not surprised to see all the other almost identical officers fraternizing. 

“Hey O’Shaughnessy, you comin’ to the bar for some beer with us?” one of them shouted.

“You betch’I’m comin’!” Jared confirmed in the same deep, Southern twang. Hopefully the missus would not mind too dearly, he was just being normal after all!

[random-databank]

Childhood Friends (Seth Lowell x Reader)

Hello, thank you for the request! Seth is one of my favorites but I also don't know much about his character, so I enjoyed writing this and learning more about him. Sorry it took so long!

Contains: gender neutral reader, could be platonic or romantic

The coffee shop in Lumina Square was a regular stop for you- it was spacious, the coffee was good, and you could stay there to get some work done if necessary.

You sipped your coffee and scrolled through your phone, opening the Knock Knock app. Most posts were of your friends and family, plus the occasional advertisement and Public Security post. In any other society, following the social media account of the local police would seem strange, but with the danger of the Hollows and new (usually illegal) factions popping up almost every other week, keeping up to date with the law enforcement was almost a necessity.

You paused at a group picture of several Pubsec officers, seeing a face you could’ve sworn was familiar to you. A cat Thiren in a Pubsec uniform… you couldn’t place it, but you’d definitely seen him somewhere. Maybe while he was on duty?

You clicked on the post to read the caption and were greeted with: Our newest members of the Criminal Investigation Special Response Team! The post was pretty old, and it listed several names you didn’t recognize, finishing with Seth Lowell.

Seth… Lowell?

Your eyes widened as you realized where you’d heard the name. Your families had been friends, and you and Seth were close until the fall of the old capital and the necessary relocation of both your families- what was left of them, at least. After that, you’d lost contact, and seen no indication that Seth and his family had ended up in New Eridu or even alive.

You opened your photo gallery, scrolling as far back as you could, and found some pictures of the two of you. Luckily, you’d kept them backed up on the cloud before the disaster.

Little Seth and you, each grinning proudly and holding large sticks.

An “action shot” of the both of you fighting. In your imaginations, those sticks had probably been powerful swords.

A blurred shot of you dropping the stick and Seth running to you, with a slight streak of red visible on your face. Most likely taken by accident.

Another shot of the two of you, this time with your arms around each other and a Starlight Knights bandage on your cheek.

The sun was starting to peek out from behind the sheet of clouds, burning them away in what usually signaled the start of mid-morning. You looked up from your phone and your stroll down memory lane. It was time to leave.

You were still a bit distracted as you started to clean up your table, mentally adding “find Seth again” to your to-do list as you went to leave and there was absolutely no way.

White hair, fluffy ears and tail, and a Pubsec uniform. What were the odds?

Oh, well. You could put off leaving for a little longer.

“Excuse me, officer. Seth Lowell, right?” you asked, approaching him and hoping he wasn’t working.

The Thiren turned around, noticing but not recognizing you if his face was any indication. “Hi, that’s me. I’m not on duty at the moment, so if you have a concern that can wait, I’d recommend visiting the station.”

“No, actually, I was hoping you were off duty. We were friends in the past, and I didn’t know where you went after the fall of the old capital, so I wanted to, um…“ You showed him your phone, photo app still open to the pictures from your childhood. “Do you remember me?”

Clearly he did, if the way his eyebrows shot up and his face broke into a smile were any indication. You were suddenly pulled into a tight hug, but before you could reciprocate, he released you just as fast. “Sorry, I’m sorry!” he exclaimed, his tail swishing awkwardly from side to side. “I was looking for you too, but I couldn’t find anything…”

“It’s ok, I’m glad to see you too. Um… do you have to be anywhere soon?” you asked. “If not, maybe we can catch up a bit.” You gestured towards the stairs, which led to an upper level of outdoor seating.

Seth accepted eagerly- he would have offered if you hadn’t beat him to it, and he didn’t have to report to the station for a little while. You grabbed his arm and lightly tugged him along.

“Oh, by the way!” Seth seemed almost brimming with excitement. “Do you remember when we used to play pretend? I always wanted to be the hero, and there was that one time you pretended to be a villain with my brother, but…” 

The two of you continued talking into the morning, reminiscing and sharing stories of how you’d changed since your separation. Seth’s dedication was amazing, and seeing him as a Pubsec officer just as he said he’d be all those years ago made you incredibly proud. It felt like time had barely passed before Seth had to leave for work. He didn’t seem that worried, but you encouraged him along, not wanting him to be late on your account. Before you parted ways, you made sure to exchange contact information.

After all, it wouldn’t do to lose him again.

[taleeater]

Fragile Part 2

Generation: Bayverse TMNT

Tmnt x Reader Fanfic

Pronouns: Gender Neutral (except ‘dudette’ and ‘princess’)

Warnings: guns, blood, injury, panic attack, not proof read

Part 1

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

The next time you open your eyes, you see a white paneled ceiling. For a horrifying moment, you believe you are back in the lab, and bolt up in bed. An icepack that was resting on your bruised shoulder comically gets flung across the room.

Frantically looking around, you see the inside of a hospital room. But your panic only subsides marginally. You know you are not safe here. You throw off your bed sheets and swing your legs over the side of the bed. But you almost fall off the edge when you suddenly feel the suffocating weight of exhaustion on your limbs. You had been running for your life all night.

You look down and see that you’ve been changed into a hospital gown with a pair of thin papery shorts, and a bracelet on your wrist that reads a name. “Jane Doe”. You rip it off and discard it. A large bandage was stuck to your knee where you had scraped it, and thick gauze were wrapped around your feet. You noted that your arm where the purple mutant had pinched you was heavily sore. You shivered with the familiarity of it. Like the soreness after receiving an injection.

You wondered marginally how much time had passed, and glancing out the open window you saw the sun was getting close to peaking over the horizon. By your guess, you’d barely been out more than 2 hours. You needed to leave. Now. You reach for the IV in your arm, but before you can rip it out, a large thump at the window startles you.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

There in the window sat the large form of one of the turtle mutants. The one with the blue bandana, Leo- your hazy memory recalls. So they were the ones who had brought you here.

“I can’t stay here, I need to go.” You rip out the IV anyways, making the mutant flinch sympathetically. A small trickle of blood traveled down your arm. He gets down from his perch on the windowsill and comes to stand in front of you. He moves to put his hands on your shoulders but hesitates when you flinch away from the touch.

“It’s okay now, they can’t find you. Donnie took out the tracking chip. There are police guards stationed outside-“

“That’s worse!” You didn’t mean to shout, but your anxiety was peaking again.

Leo looked at you with concern.

“They’re going to know to look for me here. The hospital is not safe. The police are not safe. I have to get out of here right now.” You tried to stand up but your legs felt like jelly and you stumbled. A large strong arm caught you around your waist and held you up.

“Now hold on just a minute, what do you mean?” He asked you seriously, lifting you up and setting you back on the bed.

“It’s the Foot. They’re in the police force. They’re tapped into the hospital security cameras. It’s only a matter of time before they find me! Dr Stockman always told me there was no place in this city I could hide from him. He-!” Suddenly a beeping in the room cut you off. You looked around for the source, and Leo quickly pulled a small cracked iPhone from his pocket.

He apologized to you, asking for a moment, and immediately answered the phone. He held the device up to his head as he looked at you sympathetically. But his expression turned serious.

“What?” He responded to the fast report coming in from the speaker. You could barely make out any words. That is, until you heard the last sentence.

“The Foot are inside the building!!!”

Leo’s and your eyes met in shocked panic. You suddenly hear a shout and a grunt from out in the hallway, the sound of the police on duty being subdued.

“We need to go.” Leo said to you, and without wasting anymore time he tucked away his phone and scooped you up just as the door slammed open.

You looped your arms around his neck and held on as he ran for the windowsill. You just barely caught a glance at the figures in black invading the room, pulling out guns and shooting at Leo’s retreating figure as he leapt out the open window. Bullets bounced off his shell.

The chilly air rushed you all at once and stung your bare skin. Then a loud clang and you were jostled as Leo grabbed onto the metal fire escape of the adjacent building.

“Come on fearless, we gotta go!” Shouted Raph from above.

Leo held you with one arm around your waist. “I’m going to need you to hold onto me really tight. Do you think you can do that for me?” He asked you firmly.

You nodded at him, and adjusted your hold tighter around his neck.

“Good. Let’s get you out of here.” He slowly released his hold around your waist, careful you wouldn’t fall, and quickly began scaling the fire escape up the side of the building. Once he got to the roof, he set you down among the other 3 mutants.

The Foot had retreated outside the hospital and some were piling into cars while others began entering the building, taking the stairs up to your location.

“They just won’t quit!” Shouted Donnie from where he was watching over the edge of the building.

“Whatarewegonnadowhatarewegonnado- ouch!” Raph smacked Mikey from where he was guarding the roof door.

“That’s enough Mikey!”

Leo stepped up. “We’re bringing them back to the lair.”

“What?!” The other three shouted in unison.

“We need to get a better grasp of what’s going on. There’s a lot we don’t know. And until we can figure out why Stockman is so desperate to get them back, and find them safe passage out of the city, we keep them safe. At home.” Leo said pointing his finger with finality.

Mikey whooped with excitement. “We’re having a human over!!!”

Donnie smiled.

“I don’t like this fearless.” Gruffed Raph.

“It’ll only be for a little while. They can stay in my room.” Leo assured Raph.

“Aw no fair! I want them to stay in my room!” Mikey complained.

Suddenly loud banging could be heard from the roof access door making him shriek comically. He braced the door and shouted. “They’re here!!”

“Time to move out.” Raph wasted no time and scooped you up like you weighed nothing, making you yelp in surprise. He ran for the edge of the building, you grabbed around his neck and braced yourself, and he leapt off the edge of the building. You buried your face against his chest so you didn’t look down.

Raph snorted. “You holding on tight enough, princess?”

“Me next! Me next!” Begged Mikey as he landed beside you on the next rooftop.

The four of them leaped from rooftop to rooftop, keeping away from the main roads where the Foot in cars tried to follow. The sun was almost up. Eventually you came upon a back alleyway that the mutant turtles quickly descended into, Leo using his katana to loosen and knock away the sewer cover. You were deeply confused until suddenly Raph jumped into the hole and you were assaulted by the sour rotting smell of the New York City sewers. Raph held you while he slid down a sewer pipe, followed by whoops and cheers of the other three. A tell tale clatter of the metal lid being closed behind them.

For what seemed to be a few miles of sliding through pipes and jumping over large water basins and train tracks, they arrived at a wall. You thought they were stopping for a break, until Donnie stepped forward and pulled on a pipe that triggered the wall to open up into a large open room. You looked around in awe as Raph carried you in. There were street signs and neon lights and spray painted art all over the walls. You walked by a small kitchen and a living room with a couch that Mikey promptly flopped into. You saw Donnie trail his way muttering into a dark den full of blue computer screens. But Leo was leading the way towards a shadowed area in the back and you got nervous.

Raph squeezed where he was holding your thigh in reassurance, his expression stoic.

You arrived at a doorway covered by a piece of fabric with Japanese kanji scrawled across it in black ink.

“This is my room. It’s the most clean, so you can stay in here for now.” Leo said walking in and pulling back covers of the pristinely made bed.

Raph followed in and gently sat you down on the edge of the bed, and stepped back to stand against the wall with arms folded.

As soon as you sat on the bed, you truly felt the exhaustion weigh heavily on your body. You felt pain radiate down your legs into your bandaged feet. Tensed shoulders from the stress and bruises. And your eyes felt strained and sore from being on high alert for so long. So much had happened and the gravity of the day came crashing down on you.

The pain and tiredness must’ve been clear on your face, because Leo gave you an empathetic look.

“I’ll grab Donnie to patch up your arm before you go to sleep.” He stood up to leave but you stopped him.

“Where are you going to sleep?” You asked quietly.

Leo smiled kindly. “The couch. That is, if Mikey hasn’t already fallen asleep on it. I’ll be right back.”

Then it was just you and Raph.

It was silent as you looked at each other. Then the thought that had nagged at you earlier that night came back to you.

“How did you all escape?”

“Who?” Raph looked at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Dr Stockman. How did you get away?”

Now Raph just looked confused.

“Stockman was the one who ran away, not us.”

Suddenly Donnie entered the room with a med kit and Leo followed with a glass of water and an ice pack.

“Hey brainiac, check their head. They’re asking weird questions.”

That seemed to peak Leo’s attention.

“What kind of questions?”

“They asked ‘how we escaped Stockman’.”

Donnie flicked on the bedside table lamp and kneeled in front of you. He pulled out a little light from his pocket and checked your eyes.

“Well I don’t see any signs of a concussion. What did you mean by that exactly?” Donnie asked you, opening the med kit and taking out a packaged alcohol wipe and began to clean the blood off of your arm where the IV had been. You’d forgotten about that. You looked confused as well.

“Dr Stockman mutated the others in the lab, like Bebop and Rocksteady. I didn’t know there were other mutants outside. When did you escape?”

Donnie, Leo, and Raph all stopped and exchanged a look that you couldn’t read. This conversation was drawing on what little energy you had left.

“We weren’t mutated by Stockman. We’ve been like this for about 25 years now.” Donnie answered you.

Your eyes lit up.

“Then… how did you….?”

“That’s a conversation for another time.” Leo interjected.

Raph left the room, and you heard the sound of a smack outside the door followed by Mikey’s whispered “Ow!”

Donnie finished up dressing your arm while Leo supervised. You were starting to sway in place, eyelids heavy as you blinked to stay awake.

“I’ll change your bandages later. Sleep well.” Donnie said with a kind smile before taking the med kit and leaving the room.

“If you need anything, just call for me. I’ll be just outside, okay?” Leo said.

He came up to you as you laid down heavily in his bed, falling asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. But you were still awake enough to feel the cold press of the ice pack being placed on your bruised shoulder and the blanket being pulled up to your chin.

And then you slept.

A small meeting was called in the living room.

“What are we gonna tell dad?!?!” Mikey squawked and Raph and Donnie shushed him.

“I’m sure he’ll understand! They have no place else to go!”

Leo walked up behind them and joined.

“Donnie’s right. And we’ll text April later. Maybe she can bring them some clothes to wear.”

“Why don’t they just go stay with her?” Raph argued.

“We can’t put April in danger like that, she gets enough heat as it is. We can’t be sure the Foot won’t be tailing her now to find out where we’re keeping them!” Leo persuaded. Things were starting to get a little heated.

Raph confronted him. “And what about us? You heard them! We don’t know what Stockman did to them. They could be dangerous.” Raph and Leo got up in each other’s space. Mikey and Donnie jumped in to try and defuse the situation before a fight broke out.

“Woah woah hey! I think we’re all just a little tired, alright? Let’s all get some sleep.”

“Yeah! I’ll make pancakes! With extra syrup! Then we can talk things out with dudette in the morning. Sounds good?” Mikey bounced enthusiastically.

It was clear on everyone’s face they were all tired from being out until sunrise. So without further arguments, they all left for their own rooms for some much needed rest. Leo grabbing a blanket and promptly passing out on the couch.

Part 3

@itsberrydreemurstuff

@honeysuckleboy

@thecreat0r64

@eli-chris

[romanarose]

Banner by @winniethewife

Oscar Issac/Pedro Pascal Fan Art and Fiction Pride Event 2024

Hello friends!

Let's try this again and I'll try to be more clear to not invoke discourse. That being said, it is *my* event and if you'd like to run one a certain way, go nuts. However, this is how I'm doing it.

I had a lot of fun doing Dead Dove December and the Triple Frontier Anniversary Event so I decided I wanted to do an event for pride this year! I know it seems far away right now, especially given how many of us in north America are still cold af, but I wanna give everyone time!

Each week of pride will have a theme to write or draw for (you don't have to do all of them! Think of it like kinktober.) at the end, I will put out a masterlist (or multiple depending how many)so we can all share each other's work.

Why?

Oscar Isaac and Pedro Pascal are both allies to LGBT people, Pedro having played multiple queer rolls and having likened his sexuality to that of Prince Oberyn. Despite none of the characters being canon queer, Triple Frontier specifically lends itself to queer stories. Recently, theres been a rise in stories of Oscar characters in relationships or Pedro characters in relationships which I love.

What I'd really like to do is encourage people to think past x fem!reader or canon presentation of characters. I want to encourage gay, lesbian, bisexual relationships, trans readers, trans interpretations of characters etc. More content guidelines will be in the what section.

Where?

Primarily tumblr.com, our very own shithole hellsight. However, especially given tumblr's censorship vs. twitter, I am encouraging posting on twitter or wherever you'd like. If you post something elsewhere, send me a link or send me a post you made about it on tumblr and I'll promote the link.

Additionally if you only write on ao3, I'd love for you to participate too! Once again, just send the link!

When?

in order to do the week by week themes and hold all of June, there will be 6 weeks from May 26th-July 6th

Each week will have themes. I won't be policing the weeks and these so if you do the 1st week on july 3rd, that's fine. The themes are keeping in mind both artists and writers. I only got one artist for DDD, a great piece and I've love to see more! Ideas are just for spit balling, do your own take!

May 26th-June 1st: Coming out. Ideas: Coming out to family, lover, friend. Finding gender affirming clothes/hair, first pride

June 2nd-8th: Transitioning Ideas: Surgary, surgery scars, starting T or E, binding (safely!!!)

June 9th-15th: Sex/kissing First time together, first time with certain biology or the same sex, sweet kisses, smut showing scars,

June 16th-22nd: Food, fashion, fun

All things queer culture and culture of different religions, racial or country backgrounds, queer fashion, gender affirming clothes, Keshet (קשת), listening to Lady Gaga or Bruce Springsteen, watching a queer movie

June 23rd-29th: Struggles Rejection, reconciling faith and identity, missing family that rejected one, comfort, candlelight vigil, day of remembrance.

June 30th- July 6th:Strength Asserting ones or a partner/friend/family's pronouns, standing up against hate, being loudly and proudly yourself, pride events

Who?

Writers and artists in any form are welcome. I also want to encourage working with each other, writers and artists together!

For characters: Any Oscar Isaac or Pedro Pascal character has to at least be in the relationship. Other characters in universes can be done, such as FishBen.

Reader can be anyone, just properly tag! If you want to come out to Marc Spector as bisexual, do it!!! If you want Joel to take care of you after top surgery, do it!

YOU DO NOT NEED TO BE QUEER TO PARTICIPATE!

However! Please do your research if writing or drawing an identity not yours. There are trans, nonbinary, gay, lebian etc bloggers all over tumblr who write about their experience, please divert to first person testimonies rather than assumptions.

What?

A few rules

MUST contain more than male character x fem!reader. Male character x fem!reader x male character does not count unless the two male characters are romantically or sexually involved or one or the reader is trans. Any Q's, dm me!

This is not a dark event. I'm not going to be policing the content matter but I really want to primarily focus on the pride. However, as a bisexual, gender non-conforming person I know a lot of pain can still be involved. What we are not doing is suicide, death, self-harm, or non consensual activity. If you have questions or would like to make a case for something, just dm me!

This is not inherently NSFW, but there is absolutely NSFW allowed. Always tag everything properly.

The usual no's like bestiality, incest, underage nsfw etc

As far as minor characters, SFW MINOR CHARACTERS IS ALLOWED. You can write or draw lgbt themes because being LGBT is not inherently sexual. For example, teenage Santi coming out as trans to Frankie or your own version of Ellie and Joel's talk about Ellie and Dina kiss. That being said, I'd prefer to reserve this to teens. Again, any questions or ideas that don' quite fit into parameters, just ask!

As always, I am allowed to use my discretion. If I do not want to include something, I won't. However, I know that there are rifts in the fandom. I won't be excluding you out of personal bias. As long as I don't have you blocked and you haven't plagerized or done something really bad to people, you'll be included. I'm not letting petty beefs get in the way. Harmful actions will, however. I need to protect my peace and keep

NO REAL PERSON FANFICTION. Do not write about Oscar Isaac or Pedro pascal being gay or trans and do not make any assumptions about their sexuality or gender identity. Oscar is happily married to a woman and Pedro has expressed his sexuality is like that of Oberyn Martell but has not elaborated much further, nor should he have to. Just leave ‘em be. You can speculate elsewhere but that’s not what this event is for.

How?

Simply tag me, @romanarose and use the #OscarPedroPrideEvent2024 please please please use BOTH so it's easier for me to find!!!

When the event is over, much like DDD I will compiled them into a masterlist and posted. This is a chance for every blog, big and small, to get a moment in the sun and to share each others works! Remember, reblogging, comments, and interacting is what makes this a community! I want to create an environment that is welcoming and we all help each other.

Please feel free to reach out to me for any questions or clarification!

However, if you go issues with me writing men kissing, chracters being trans, queer readers etc, I'm not really open to debate.

~A nonbinary bisexual <3

[mooooonnnzz]

Can you write head-cannons for miles on how you think reader would find out/how he would tell them about him being spiderman? I absolutely adore the way you write miles!!

I’m Spiderman! Surprise…? // Miles Morales x reader

hcs of you finding about miles which ultimately leads to him telling you his “secret”!

✰ gender neutral reader as always!! 

✰ the hcs r pretty lengthy 😭 my badd

✰ would u even consider this as hc?? 🤨 IDK

✰ THANKS FOR THE REQUEST HOPE U ENJOY <33

✰ requests r still open!!

»»————-　★　————-««

🕷️ Your suspicions of Miles being Spiderman were merely rooted on baseless assumptions. Him arriving late to certain events, him replying late to your message and other stupid reasons that couldn’t be considered real concrete evidence without any hard core proof. You didn’t care that much to look into it, so you never took time out of your day to figure out who’s under the mask. Though, an incident that somewhat solidified the idea of Miles being Spiderman was when you and him were walking down the crowded streets of New York city. You were chattering to him about something that had taken your interest, not paying attention to what was in front of you, when Miles spidey senses tingled. Wandering his eyes throughout the mass of people, his attention zeroed in on a man who was running away from the police. The man barreled through the crowd and pushed past people with no remorse, running through the busy street with immense speed. He was about to run into you and without even thinking, Miles swiftly stood in front of you and wrapped his arm around you protectively. Miles took advantage of the crowd and without anyone noticing what he’d done, he webbed the guys feet together. He flopped onto the floor and dropped whatever he had clutched to his chest, allowing the police to retrieve the stolen item and arrest the man. You didn’t comment on the situation but the whole thing did make you raise a brow. Miles wasn’t as sneaky as he thought.

🕷️ His ultra quick reflexes were another thing that made you think he was Spiderman. He was just too quick with catching things. It was scarily impressive. You could be carrying multiple boxes, stumbling your way through the door when you’d trip, the boxes spilling out of your arms. Miles would grab the boxes and with ease and place them on the table. When you call him out for his inhuman reflexes, he shrugs them off and tells a horrible lie. He said that he was just “born with them.” You obviously didn’t believe it but you never pried further.

🕷️ His sudden strength was another tick in the box. You didn’t know Miles was still trying to get accustomed to his superstrength and there were so many instances where he’d break something without even meaning to. He usually tosses things over to you when he’s a little too lazy to walk over to you, but after a few accidents where he threw it a little harder than he intended it too, he learned to stop doing that for the time being. “Oooh, did I just do that?” He awkwardly chuckled while looking everywhere but at the TV remote that was impaled into the wall. You look at him in disbelief, eyes slowly drifting between Miles and the TV remote. “How…? Why…?” Miles is stuttering, trying to make an excuse and the one he sticks with is “I…work out…?” How believable.

🕷️One time when you were staying over, you found his suit laying out in the open on his bed. When you confronted him about it he threw his suit under his bed and told you he just likes dressing up as Spiderman. “So…you dress up as Spiderman for fun…?” Miles nods his head rapidly. “Do you go to comic-con?” The look of confusion is slapped across his face. “What’s comic-con?”

🕷️ When Miles was telling you his “deepest darkest secret” he was absolutely shitting his pants. You already pieced the mystery together long before he told you, you just wanted to wait for when Miles was ready to tell you himself. He texted you at the ass-crack of dawn, telling you that he was going to crash into your room for the time being. When he came over, instead of using the front door like a normal person he came in from your window. He crawled in and sheepishly smiled at you, shoving his hands into his pockets nervously. “I have something to tell you…” He whispers. You knew where this was going but you played along for the time being. “Promise this won’t change how you view me as a person.” You promised him by linking your pinky with him. “Promise you’ll still love me the same?” His voice was near cracking with the anxiety that was riling up in him. He looked devastatingly nervous and you can tell that the poor boy is stressed to the bone with the reveal he’s about to do. You assure him that nothing he’s about to say is going to change how you love or see him. Then he slips off his jacket and shows the Spiderman suit he was wearing underneath. “I’m Spiderman.” You look at him for a good minute, debating whether you should tell him you knew all along or act shocked. You chose the former. “I know.” Miles blinks then looks at you in disbelief. “How did you know?!” You had to let out a sigh at that. “You’re not good at hiding it.” Miles was embarrassed to say the least but he was happy that you accepted him either way. “Okay, so now that’s out of the way. Can you take me swinging?! It looks so fun when you do it.” He couldn’t say no and he swung around New York with you clutching his side, joyous shrills and laughter left you and Miles couldn’t be anymore happier.

i took forever to write this im like writing at a snail pace rn 😭 apologies i’m still writing a few other requests rn. thanks for all the support from my last fic you are all so sweet!! <33

[firegirl888101]

Insatiable Madness (5)

|Sagau Yandere Fatui Harbingers x Reader|

Don't you just love it when things don't go your way...?~

Reader is Gender Neutral!

"How pathetic!" You felt a punch, your head beginning to grow foggy with colours slowly dimming to grey.

"Please... no more..." You heard yourself beg.

Was that even you? You've never heard yourself so demoted before.

"Begging? Pfah! I haven't even broken a bone!" He scoffed in disgust, dropping your mess of a body on the floor.

"Balladeer? Lord Pierro says you're taking too-" "Oh."

"Tell him I've got my hands full at the moment, I've been itching for a punching bag all day!"

"You're aware of the plan, yes? The deal is to check everyone before shedding blood."

That's... strangely close to Arlecchino's voice. Has she come to save you? No, more importantly, why do both Arlecchino and Scaramouche's cosplayers sound like the real voice actor?

You heard the Scaramouche cosplayer sigh, then step away from your body. "Fine. Follow me, mortal. I'm being merciful."

"'Follow me'? You've beaten them half to death." She scoffed.

He rolled his eyes as he left the room.

"I apologise on his behalf, we're supposed to kill those who aren't 'The Decider' quick and painlessly."

You didn't reply, you felt an intense pain as she picked you up.

"Comfortable? This could be the last time you'll ever experience such a thing."

"I don't know how many of you there are, but every one of you should feel guilt."

"Guilt? I suppose you would think of it like that." She smiled to herself, shaking her head.

"I'm feeling quite merciful," She began. "If I were to describe a particular mortal to you, would you tell me all you know? Do not try to lie to me. I can assure you that if what you tell me is useful, I shall find a way to sneak you out."

You looked at her curiously, not daring to give an answer.

This is your chance, maybe you could give her what she wants then run to the police station yourself?

"The Tsaritsa has been searching for someone who can control what can't be seen for awhile now. I thought she was crazy, pining after someone like that."

"Do you know of someone who can easily be controlled? Such as a 'Blond-Haired-Traveller'?

Is she referring to the actual game? She's talking about Aether? Maybe Lumine? Agh, I don't know! You scrambled your head, trying to think of an answer.

"W-What has the main game got to do with you killing innocent people?" You quietly asked in fear.

"So you do know something..." She spoke to herself. "For what other reason would you ask your own question following my own?"

"..."

You didn't reply. You didn't know how to answer this psychopath dressed as one of your favourite characters.

"I'm still waiting. You'll run out of time if I walk through that door." She threatened, slowly moving towards the door which presumably has the rest of her harbinger friends.

"Are you talking about Aether or Lumine!?" You spoke quickly.

Arlecchino stopped in her tracks, and smiled sweetly at you. "That's much more like it." She laughed gently.

"I have no idea who 'Lumine' is. However, I appreciate you opening your heart and soul to me. You'll explain everything else to the others."

You paled.

"But I did what you asked!--"

"And I said I would 'find a way to sneak you out' if your information was useful. I never said when I would sneak you out. If luck is on your side, death will sneak you out before I have the chance to."

She then slammed the unisex bathroom door open, and presented you to the harbingers. Some covered in blood, while others clean as a priest.

"Ah, it seems we missed one." Dottore chuckled to himself, looking at you.

"P-Please! I won't say anything, let me leave I beg of you!" The man in front of him begged, his body in a crumpled mess.

Dottore was quick to slit his throat, the man's body falling to the ground and gradually becoming covered in his own blood.

He just... He really just killed him with no remorse...

"They're the one." Childe breathed out, dispelling his hydro weapons efficiently.

"You said that to three other mutts." Signora scoffed, sitting on one of the stools.

"I feel a familiar aura with this one!" He argued back to the woman.

"If they aren't 'The Decider', we'll have to assume they managed to escape." Capitano sighed to himself, kicking the body away from Dottore's feet.

Again with that title, who could that possibly--

Hold on a minute, do they think you're this supposed 'Decider'?

Is that what this is all about? They killed everyone in the entire building just because they were looking for you?

It's not even guaranteed that you're the person they want!

Arlecchino set you on your feet and held your arms behind your back. Your body immediately collapsed due to Scaramouche's beatings from earlier.

"Scaramouche I think you treated them a little too roughly..." Columbina giggled in her hands, watching you groan in pain as Arlecchino kept her hold on your body.

"I treated them how I treat everyone else, they're not special in any way."

That's uncalled for.

Dottore pressed the compass in his hands and watched as the light trail pointed at your heart.

"Good work, Knave and Balladeer, this is them." Dottore started, pocketing the compass as it is no longer needed.

"However... Scaramouche, your behaviour will be reported to The Tsaritsa. When she finds out you almost killed them..."

"How was I supposed to know this was them!?" He argued back.

"You use patience." Pantalone scolded, a calm smile present on his face.

Scaramouche stayed silent, and retreated.

"Well then, anything to say? You really thought you could hide from us?" Dottore turned to you, watching you slowly lift your head up.

"You're actually talking to me now?"

"Well, it was overdue." He coughed. "This world feels unstable, the elements are all over the place."

"What of it?"

"Her Majesty has ordered us to retrieve you and bring you to her palace. It would be wise to proceed with absolute mercy and peace."

You simply turned away.

"You killed my family just to 'take me away from my world'!?" You screamed.

"This is horrible, disgusting even! You all look around my age... well, except for the Pulcinella-poser over there..." You started.

"Did you all get so fucking high on those vapes that you can't think straight? You'll all regret what you've done when you come up from your supposed fantasy!"

"Fantasy?" Arlecchino questioned, ignoring your tantrum. "Vapes?" Sandrone muttered.

"We had to kill just to find you. You should be lucky we kept you alive." Capitano scolded.

"Oh, yeah, sure! I am sooooo thankful that not only a bunch of lunatics killed lots of people, but I'm also happy they did it just for me!" You sarcastically replied.

Now, all you have to do is keep them in here until the police arrive. You told them your exact location, the only thing that can go wrong is you dying in the process.

"They're acting like a child." Signora scoffed.

"Let them behave this way. They clearly know who Aether is, this adds onto the proof of the compass that they are the one." Arlecchino explained, eyeing you.

"Hey! So, I know you're probably not in the mood to talk to me, but..." The Childe cosplayer poked at you, your response hissing as he touches your wounds.

"Sorry!"

"Go away."

"No can do! There's a rumour that the one controlling the traveller knows the future... is that true? If so, do I become the strongest and take over the world?" He asked, a grin on his face.

Is this guy serious?

Sorry, I decided to pick Aether as the traveller in this since I think he's been confirmed to be the canon protaganist of the game?

Do let me know if I'm wrong and I'll change it.

Please don't expect too many happy, nice and generally fluffy scenes.

This is Yandere, a genre which should never, under any circumstance be considered normal. It's abusive, unhealthy and leads to a lot of victims facing awful conditions which they never should or ever have to endure no matter who they are.

This is fiction that I'm writing, meaning it's all taken light-heartedly IN A FICTIONAL SENSE.

If anyone, by chance, is currently in conditions where a loved-one or yourself has suddenly become distant and/or being hurt when away from eyes please get help. Talk to them, or if it's you, talk to someone you know you can trust.

If you can't talk to anyone, find authorities who can help you. Call 999, as it is in the U.K, or your local emergency service. They will always help you, and will never deny your rights or freedom.

Thanks for reading this, I hope all who's reading knows this information already, but I thought I'd include it since who knows when it comes to where you are in the world and whether your education programs taught critical information like this.

✨Elusive✨ Taglist!:

@valeriele3 @pale-value @pix-stuff @yumi-genshin-writer @yuii-v @itz-luna @annoying-mary @etherisy @khalhaimdad @haikyuusboringassmanager @magica-ren @sweatyexpertdeputyduck @booksandteaplusart @9140 @whatamidoing89 @raesleepyhead @nasidibakar @shikanosn @purpleamethystsblog @chihawari @esthelily @stuffyfrenchflowers

Quick Reminder Here! If you no longer want to be on the taglist that's completely fine; I take no offence whatsoever so please don't hesitate to tell me. ^^

[esf-art-and-design]

You wanna know something crazy?

I work for a LGBTQ+/Queer non-profit, I’ve had to sit in on training seminars on how to best support our community, how to create a space that is actually safe for everyone in the community, etc.

You wanna know the one thing that was emphasized by these professionals running these seminars (who are also a part of the community btw)

Telling queer people what their labels for their identity ought to be is extremely harmful.

Gatekeeping the community from other people who are figuring themselves out because of labels is harmful?! Shocker I know, but yes it is.

You know what this means right? It means that:

You don’t get to tell a guy experimenting with queer sex that he’s gay/bi/queer/etc if he ID’s as straight

You don’t get to tell a woman experimenting with queer sex that she’s lesbian/bi/queer/etc. if she ID’s as straight

You don’t get to tell aces who are hetero sexual/Romantic that they don’t belong in queer spaces

You don’t get to blame bi lesbians/m-spec women for creepy cishet men entering wlw spaces to hit on women (in an entitled way) (that’s called misogyny babes)

You don’t get to tell someone they are unlovable/not deserving of a relationship/etc. because of the label they use

You don’t get to tell people that actions invalidate their labels because “actions speak louder than words”

You don’t get to demand to know what labels someone uses because of their actions. (Or you don’t force someone to out themselves)

You don’t apply labels to someone from pure speculation (you could be outing someone and putting them in danger)

You don’t get to tell people their labels are “contradictory” or “don’t make sense” and demand they choose one label over the other

Other Labels cannot harm your own identity, and if you act like it can your wrong and harming the community

And ultimately, It means that according to actual professionals within the lgbtq non-profit space, the exclusionists in the community are wrong and are doing immeasurable harm.

Basically what I’m saying is that everyone is welcome here on my blog, policing identity is harmful, and yes, the exclusionists that told you that your identity is invalid or made fun of you for your identity we’re so fucking wrong.

Everyone who experiences sexual orientation, attraction, gender identity, and gender expression differently belongs within our community.

Gatekeeping only keeps people deserving of services away from the spaces where they can get those services. It keeps them away from peer support. And that’s not good, especially if you know the statistics for self harm and suicide within the community.

[rafaslittleboy]

can you write a small blurb of relative!sonny hiding you away at a family gathering and making out with you? love your writing so far!

tw: incest, age gap ), making out, sexual themes,, height difference, gender neutral reader.

Sonny would like to think he was a good guy, what police officer goes to law school to better learn to help people? He dedicates almost everyday of his life going to work with the odd chance that he could get hurt with all the scumbag people he deals with on a daily basis.

So it’s a rare treat when he comes back home, home being Staten Island and his parent’s too-large paid off house. And it’s an even better treat when you were there at the same time as him; as you grew up into the young adult you were, you grew apart and his job was so demanding that he couldn’t make as much time for his family anymore, including you.

But here you were, laughing with your older cousin Gina over something on your phones at the end of the dinner table. Your mother was at the stove with your aunts finishing up cooking the feast that she had spend almost two days on/m—anything to have her family fed and fighter.

It had been a while since

You could hear the kids laughing and running through the halls, the voices of the loud conversation heard from downstairs—but you didn’t focus on any of that. Your brother closing the lining closet door and looking down at you with a soft content smile.

“Been a while, huh?” Sonny spoke to you softly, his words only for you to hear.

“you work too much,” you smile at him, “and you never come back home.”

Sonny strokes your cheek with his thumb, his long fingers carded through the layers of the back of your hair. “Has there been anyone else?” He asks, and you know what he means.

Not since you last saw him, which was nearing eight months ago now. He made you promise not to go off replacing him with someone else, that he’d always be yours and you’d always be his.

“Hmm, I dunno, I know this one guy—his names Sonny, but he keeps ghosting me: saying he has too much work and stuff,” you roll your eyes.

“Ghosting you?” Sonny plays along, faking a shocked expression. “well, he ain’t worth it, is he?”

“Nope,” you smile, “but I know someone who is…”

Sonny smiles and bends his neck down to kiss you again, walking you backward a few steps so you’re against the wall as he made out with you. Still dressed from his very demanding job, his police badge dug into your stomach.

“yeah? ya wanna tell me who that is?” Sonny whispered against your lips.

“… you are,” you admit breathlessly and you couldn’t tear yourself away from his blue eyes. and sonny smiles, genuinely, and kisses you again, deepening the kiss by licking into your mouth.

sonny moaned as his hand slid down to your crotch and he just held his hand there, softly rubbing his fingers from time to time. if he had another quiet moment with you later on, he’d definitely make you cum either on his fingers or in his mouth.

you were like that, locked together and making out like immature teenagers in that closet for around five minutes before Serafina yelled that dinner was ready; and the rushed footsteps of the kids ran past the little hiding place you were both in.

Sonny broke apart from you and you could see his lips were swollen and wet from kissing you, his eyes were half lidded and pupils blown wide (you bet if you glanced down at his pelvic area that he would have a hard on, too).

“sit next to me at dinner?” he asked, stroking your cheek bone. you nodded and he kissed your lips one final time, lingering before opening the door.

[fairy-writes]

MERCY

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Trigun Stampede

Pairing(s): Vash the Stampede x Reader

Word Count: 0.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Pre-Canon, Established Relationships, Possible OOCness with Vash but I couldn’t get this idea out of my head

Notes: I HAVEN’T DONE THIS IN A WHILE

BUT CATCH MY DOCTOR WHO QUOTES

__________________________________________________________________________

It wasn’t often that you saw Vash angry.

In fact, in all the time you’d known him, you never remembered him actually getting angry. Irritated? Sure, but never like… this. 

Three days was enough to wear down the Humanoid Typhoon. 

It should have been simple: just keep your heads down and let the bandits currently hunting for Vash’s bounty pass on through the little town. 

It seemed easy enough. You’d done this a million times. You were practically pros! What would change now?

Oh, how you wished you could take those words back. 

“Vash, stop!” You plead and cry and tug at Vash’s coat as you try to keep him from shooting the man in front of him. He grits his teeth, but that doesn’t stop his finger from curling around the trigger. 

“I’m done negotiating.” He snaps, and you flinch back as if struck across the face. 

“We can talk this out! Just like you do every time! Vash, please!”

He rounds on you, keeping the gun pointed at the bandit.

“Every time I negotiate, every time I try to understand. Well, not today. No. Today, I honor the victims first. His, Nai’s, the humans, all the people who died because of MY mercy!”

Right…

The people who died. 

You can still hear a mother wailing for her dead child behind you, cradling his limp corpse in her arms as she begged whoever was listening to bring her baby back to her. 

You could tell Vash heard it too, because he ground his teeth together even more. His thumb pulled the hammer back on his gun, and he stepped closer to press the barrel to the bandit’s forehead.

The aforementioned bandit was shaking in his boots. His knees knocked together, and sweat dripped down his brow. His own gun had been batted away after shooting at Vash and you. Luckily, the bullets had lodged in Vash’s prosthetic arm instead of flesh. The arm itself was fine, if not sparking a little.

But that didn’t matter.

“Vash,” You began, slowly, calmly, like trying to calm a spooked animal. Vash turned to look at you, and you weren’t surprised to see tears starting to prick his eyes. 

He had always been the emotional one.

“Please, put the gun down. Have some mercy, and we can talk this out.” You tried, and his following words made your blood run cold.

“I’m so old now. I used to have so much mercy. But not anymore.” He snarled, and you flinched back. 

This wasn’t the Vash you knew and loved

What had happened to him?

One of the townsfolk stepped forward,

“Mr. Typhoon… Please. Put the gun down. We will arrest the bandit and hold him until the police can arrive. you’re scaring your love.” She said, and those words snapped Vash out of his violent stupor. He looked at you with new eyes, heartbroken and horrified.

You couldn’t stop him as he stepped away and fled,

You found him in the desert of No Man’s Land two days later.

Two days. Two days of relentless searching. Two days of worrying. Two days of Vash obviously beating himself up over everything. The bandit was apprehended, as was his little posse of criminals. So you were able to search for Vash safely.

You found him in a cave, bits of his arm strewn about as he tried to get the bullets unstuck. He was muttering and cursing under his breath, eventually throwing the tool in his hand toward the mouth of the cave where you stood.

You picked up the tool and approached him, kneeling by where he sat cross-legged and offering the tool.

“How’d you find me?” He said bitterly, and you offered a small smile,

“I know you.” You mumbled, and he scoffed,

“Apparently not. I’m turning into Nai. Merciless. Cold. And—”

“You aren’t. Your reign of terror would end at the sight of the first crying child, and you know it.” You cut him off gently, and he looked up at you, something glimmering in his eyes. You took that as an invitation to scoot closer, crossing your legs as you went. Your knee brushed his, and you could practically feel him shudder at the contact.

But you didn't comment on it.

You just used the tool to dislodge the bullets smashed into his arm and palm of his hand. You were gentle, not at all like he was moments ago. Soon enough, his arm was pieced back together, and he gripped your hand as you went to stand.

“Where are you going?” He asked, practically pleading with you to stay.

“Just getting my pack. I left it outside.” You said, and he sagged in relief.

He must’ve been lonely in those two days he was apart from you.

That night, you sat by the fire you built and tossed branches from debris into the fire. Vash sat next to you, his flesh hand on your thigh and his head on your shoulder. You let him have this. This sense of normalcy. This sense of love that you tried to build around him. 

Because he deserved that much. 

It wasn’t long before he turned to nose your neck, pressing a fleeting kiss there. You shivered and felt him smile against your skin.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.” He whispered eventually. You hummed,

“I forgive you… Just… Try not to do it again, okay?” You replied, and he pecked your cheek before squeezing your thigh.

“I promise.”

[yanderes-galore]

Micah or Javier scenario

🥀12. "The police can only protect you for so long."

<3

Honestly, Either one of them would be horrible to deal with. But Micah seems like the worst one.

Prompt Here

Yandere! Micah Bell Prompt 🥀 12

"The police can only protect you for so long."

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Micah being a creep, Threats, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Attempted kidnapping, Attempted forced relationship.

You didn't know much about Micah Bell...

Despite this, the outlaw seemed to know a lot about you.

The most you knew about Micah Bell was this... He was your "admirer". To some, the idea of having an admirer was straight out of a fantasy. Not for you.

Micah Bell was never someone you wanted to admire you. To you, he's an outlaw and a creep. You have no love for a man such as him.

That never stops him.

You've always caught Micah lurking about the corner of your eye. The outlaw always kept his eyes on you. No matter how much it creeped you out.

You could be shopping, he's there. Taking a stroll through your town, he's there. Even at night... when you go to rest in your home... Micah's right by your window.

Always watching...

Always waiting.

You've become a regular at the sheriff's office by this point. You described Micah's appearance to the sheriff and learned who he was. Now, you've been quite protected by the law.

It never seemed to stop Micah's pursuits.

Micah's been to jail. Many times, in fact. Someone always seems to bail him out. Which only allowed him to continue following you.

He'd follow you to saloons, stores, your home. All you can do is yell for the sheriff and lock yourself in your home. Micah always manages to sneak away once you do.

Sometimes he even leaves you one last parting letter or gift... Words full of depravity and jewelry of unknown origin. You always toss the letters and gifts now. You don't want to think of him.

You're always greeted with the haunting image of Micah. The outlaw always has a smug grin on his face. Even when you do interact with him in an attempt to threaten him...

He just muses about how much he likes the feisty type.

You've been trying to put aside money to buy a gun. You want to be able to defend yourself from an outlaw who seems to want something from you. Yet, whenever you put money aside... It disappears.

You're pretty sure Micah knows your plans.

You struggle to sleep one night, staring out the window of your home. Your thoughts constantly drift to Micah as you try to stay awake. Tonight... You saw nothing out your window.

But you did hear something around your home.

It's quiet but you can hear footsteps in the grass. You look out your window again... There's nothing you can see. Your heart thumps in your chest...

Not again.

Something hits your door. It doesn't sound like a knock. No, instead, it sounds like someone threw themselves into the door. You flinch, hearing a dark chuckle through the door.

"Darlin'... I'm so tired of just watching...." Micah drawls through the wood, another slam hitting your door. "Bout time I do something about how I feel for you...."

The door smashes open and you squeal. Micah stumbles into your home, looking around. You hide in your room, cowering behind the locked door.

"Did you get those gifts I sent ya?" Micah coos, searching your home. "Those pretty pocket watches? Stole those off some rich folk... They didn't need them when I was done with 'em...."

Another door in your home is knocked open, Micah searching the room carefully. He curses to himself when he doesn't find you... Soon looking for another room. You knock on your window, alerting someone outside to aid you.

"I could give you so much more than gifts, darlin'...." Micah purrs, stalking closer to your bedroom. "You're pretty... Been wanting you for a long while... Don't act like you don't enjoy my courting...."

Just as Micah breaks down your door, The outlaw sees you roll out of your window and begin running. Despite his frustration... Micah chuckles. A game of chase... You really know how to keep a man wanting.

You quickly get up from your feet and dart down the road for the Sheriff's office. You can hear Micah bust out your home and give chase. However, you never look back...

You just scream for help.

Soon enough, a lawmen patrol group catches sight of you. They immediately lock their gaze on Micah when you run behind them... pulling out their rifles. You're shaking like a leaf...

Even more so when you see Micah stop, glaring.

"You little minx...." Micah snarls, approaching closer.

"Hands up and surrender, you're coming with us." The lawmen patrol threats, making Micah reach for his revolver instinctively.

He's shot folks like this before.

"Relax... This is just a little spat between me and my sweetheart here...." Micah tries to defuse, glancing at you with anger.

"That so? You'll still be coming with us to make sure, mister." A lawman orders, making Micah pull his revolver.

"Like HELL I am!" Micah barks, his temper flaring when he really should've just given up. You flinch when the outlaw aims, only to be tackled to the ground. The revolver goes off... but it misses as Micah is disarmed and restrained with cuffs.

Micah struggles and growls like a wild animal under the lawman. His gaze quickly snaps to you and the second one, a grimace on his face. He was so close....

"The police can only protect you for so long, darlin'." Micah laughs, his tone a teasing threat. "I'll get out again... and when I do... you'll be ALL mine! Don't forget about me... I'll find you no matter where you run—!"

Micah's then gagged by a cloth, causing the outlaw to growl again. The lawman on top of Micah yanks him to his feet, holding him still as he begins to walk the outlaw to the jail. You watch them go... shuddering.

Even as the other outlaw comforts you... your gaze lingers on Micah...

Even now, you don't know much about Micah Bell...

But you do know one thing by this point after this encounter... He's a man who most likely keeps his word....

[incorrect-jojolands-quotes]

Hot take but I think what we saw in chapter 13 was necessary.

I don't think a lot of people realize how important it is for Araki to portray what he did, even if it extremely difficult to take in. Let me explain.

Araki has discussed about topics like racial and class disparity through both Steel Ball Run and Jojolion, but JOJOLands is different because the discussions are now very direct. We had Chapter 1 open up with police brutality and Chapter 13 open with intense bullying; both acts were committed by people of higher social standing/power and seemingly White (or white passing) and both are harming a dark-skinned queer individual. Not only that, remember that Hawai'i is an island stolen and colonized by the US and many indigenous individuals who were supposed to live and maintain kapu are being forced to endure housing problems, loss of culture, etc. due to gentrification and exploitation of its lands. 2020 was when we saw global protest towards the deaths of George Floyd and Breonna Taylor due to police brutality, which has spread as far as Japan in terms of demonstrations and rallies. Araki has made it clear that he tries to take real world experience into his writing, and this is no different. He is also no stranger to portraying law enforcement throughout his parts without glorifying or downplaying their behavior.

As a mutual of mine (who themselves identify as a black GNC individual based in US) has put it, those who identify or even appear as Black while identifying as trans-femme or women are subjected to some of the worse kinds of oppression possible in America. Queer women of Color are one of the most susceptible to sexual violence-- especially when they are young, and the darkness of their skin really plays into it. This is transmisogynoir; it is a hard pill to swallow and acknowledge, even if it feels excessive, and its a multilayer of oppression that connects a person's racial identity, gender, and sexuality as targets of discrimination. It's the fact that one is POC, a woman, AND queer that makes one a target--- not just one or the other. You can’t turn a blind eye to this because it happen constantly throughout America's history and American society even today, but you can't simply water it down or downplay it. In fact, many victims of transmisogynoir have no choice but to downplay their experiences because of their Black identities or because they appear too dark to be taken seriously; when they, especially if they are Black, try to hold people in power accountable, these individuals are suddenly labeled aggressive, indignant, etc. and they are further discriminated for attempting to speak up. Dragona downplaying the bullying isn't them just trying to avoid further conflict but a reflection of how many who were in similar situations like Dragona are forced to simply forgive and forget the trauma they have to endure. To downplay it ourselves is reinforcing the narrative that individuals like Dragona in real life should remain silent and endure their harassment rather than rightfully protect themselves and others from it.

Another thing to add is that the way Japan portrays and treats the LGBTQ community, particularly the trans community. In Japan, the process to legally change your gender is complicated and requires a lot of steps that include, but not limited to, being diagnosed with gender identity disorder, proving you have no kids/guardianships, and sterilization. This causes a lot of individuals to be forced to quickly transition as a means of getting their gender recognized, which takes away the time to let them explore at their own pace, and this is due to how the process can lead to hindering career and life opportunities that wouldn't be hindered had they already transitioned or stayed closeted. Many Japanese trans individuals unable to go through the process quickly either remain closeted or move away from Japan to transition at their own pace. So, as a result, the trans community and its struggles is not as noticed compared to outside of Japan. Another thing to add is that the trans community in Japanese media is often portrayed as comedic relief or a gag. Oftentimes, the trans character or character who diverts from gender conformity (i.e cross-dressing, acting more flamboyant) is the butt of the jokes. Some thing to note is that, when Dragona was first introduced, a lot of people thought that Araki put Dragona in simply for comedic purposes. I had people joke about how Dragona is just there because they believed Araki is trolling. Not only that, the racial issues that Japan has often results in jokes towards non-Japanese individuals in media, especially if they are of darker skin color.

So, Araki putting Dragona in these difficult situations is also meant to subvert expectations that his Japanese, and possibly Western, audience may be expecting. The expectation was to laugh and toss Dragona aside as a single-dimensional character, but Araki instead forced us to face the trauma through Dragona's experience head-on. We are made aware of Dragona's situation, how real and difficult the struggle is, and we end up emphasizing with it rather than laughing at it. Through this, we get a glimpse into real life experiences of trans POCs without it being downplayed and have it show how Dragona is a fleshed-out character with importance to the series. As some have put it, this chapter proved that Dragona isn't just a side character but arguably a complex individual on the same level of importance as Jodio. I don't think it would have been easy to have the same impact if another approach was taken.

While talking to others who identify as trans and/or GNC about their thoughts on the chapter, I was told by many of them that, while Dragona's experience hits close to home and was hard to digest, they appreciate seeing it being expressed and hope it will help other people understand their struggles. One noted how the introduction of Smooth Operators with the backstory as empowering, seeing the Stand as a symbol of surviving the trauma that comes with trans discrimination. I do find this a bit telling with how many people online who are against Araki's portrayal barely mention what trans/GNC people have said about it.

My main concern, as well as what I see people have rightfully critiqued, is the excessive trauma reinforcing the fetishization and violent voyeurism towards trans individuals; it also reinforces the problematic narrative that dysmorphia can only happen as a result of trauma and the trans experience can only be full of pain. There's also the issue that Dragona's experience also happened while they were under age and their harassment is similar to that of Lucy. It's a common trope in Western media to put marginalized people into these situations while upping the ante simply for clicks and pleasure, and even worse when the character portrayed is a minor. As I reiterate, it is a very uncomfortable chapter to read and I don't find it enjoyable at the slightest. Just because I understand why it is necessary doesn't mean I condone the approach done. I also understand Araki as a Japanese man can only relate and portray a queer American's experience to an extent. But, at the same time, the exposure was necessary because it gives us the awareness and a voice to trans people that is lacking within media even today. We need to be aware and acknowledge what our BIPOC trans community goes through as a means of being better humans--- and especially our younger community members. We need to make our society safer for them so they can thrive and have the respect they deserve. Oftentimes, that starts with how they are portrayed and how their experiences are portrayed. While it is still a journey and not every representation will be perfect, we can't simply toss it aside and bash those who try to show something realistic just because it is uncomfortable.

I only hope that Araki wrote Dragona and these scenes as a result of doing extensive research and reaching out to actual POC queer individuals, particularly transfemmes/women, to understand their experiences and have their blessings to use their words to shape Dragona. I feel like that would show that Araki was serious about discussing these issues through his characters rather than simply using Dragona's traumatic experience it for entertainment. I have higher expectations for Araki now, knowing that it may not be the last time he shows a character experience harassment and possibly have Dragona be harassed again, so I will keep my eyes open for this.