#and thus a closet freak

[vampfucker666]

have not drawn in five million years. star trek teeth and natasha i guess. do NOT ask me how teeth managed to get on a fucking starship i dont think she knows either 😭

[astrophileous]

ZARA MY LOVE MWAH SENDING THROUGH A REQUEST WOOOOOOO 😚😚😚

please give me spencer reid crumbs 🤲 maybe him seeing reader in a fancy dress for the first time 👀 and he’s like 😃 because she’s so pretty 🥴 and he’s been rendered speechless because oh my god that’s his girlfriend????? ARE YOU FEELING ME 😩😩

I FEEL YOU MA'AM!!! AND I GOTCHUUU DON'T WORRYYY 🫶🫶🫶 (y'all better thank avis the loml for sending in this request bcs this turned out better than I expected if I do say so myself 👀)

Warning(s): fem!reader, profanities, spencer being head over heels in love with his gf, kinda suggestive towards the end so pls minors just be mindful

This blurb was written as a part of the "Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K" celebration.

Zara's Birthday Bash and Road to 1K Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

"Are you laughing at me?"

"No one is laughing!"

"Right. You're saying that wasn't a snort that I just heard?"

"I just think you're being unreasonable."

"Unrea—? I'm not being unreasonable! Don't call me unreasonable!"

Spencer sighed out loud as he turned the car towards a quiet street, his eyes never straying off the road even if 90% of his attention had been domineered by your distressed voice resonating out of his speaker phone for the past fifteen minutes. Something crashed on the other end of the line, and Spencer nearly pressed his right foot all the way down on the brake pedal as he glanced worriedly at the device on the passenger's seat.

"Sweetheart? Everything okay over there?"

"Everything's fine! I'm okay, I'm okay!"

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm just—fuck. I bumped into some stuff. It's not a big deal."

"(Y/N)—" Spencer called out softly, "—why don't you take a deep breath for me, my love?"

"Spencer—"

"Just humor me, okay?" There was a lengthy pause before he heard you take several deep breaths through the phone. "Feel better now?"

"Maybe. A little bit. Yeah."

"Good." Spencer smiled, slowing his car down to a stop as he stared at the familiar building outside the window. "Because I'm pulling up to your place right now."

"What?!"

After a full more minute of you cursing the living daylights out of him, Spencer ended the call and grabbed the bouquet of flowers from the backseat before walking all the way up to your apartment on the third floor. The three-piece suit he donned felt stiff against his body. Nevertheless, it was the fanciest thing he owned in his closet, thus uncomfortable as he was, Spencer thought he'd endure it tonight for Rossi's sake.

It was a memorable night in the BAU's history, considering Rossi had just finished the first book he ever wrote after rejoining the team and was throwing a party to celebrate its launch. "It's a whole shindig," Rossi had announced. "Everyone's invited, so dress to impress. Don't forget to bring that lovely girl of yours, Reid."

You had only met the team once by this point—an accidental encounter that barely lasted ten minutes after you and your friends stumbled into the same restaurant where Spencer and his team just happened to be dining in—and Spencer couldn't be more ecstatic at the prospect of you finally getting to know his second family even closer. The invitation was merely an implied gesture that confirmed what Spencer already knew to be true: the team approved of you. They loved you.

Yet, as he extended the invite to you two weeks ago, Spencer was surprised to see you panic instead of the unadulterated joy that he had expected to witness when he went to deliver the news.

"Two weeks, you said? The party is in two weeks? Two weeks? I have nothing to wear!"

You had been freaking out over the party every single day since then. Upon further inspection, Spencer finally realized that this behavior stemmed from your fear of not being accepted by the team, which was illogical since Spencer had stated very clearly about how much they adored you.

"I didn't have the chance to prepare for a good first impression, Spencer. So whatever happens, everything has to be perfect for Rossi's party," you had reasoned.

Hence, Spencer could only watch you from the sideline as you ran around in a frenzy for the past couple of weeks. He listened patiently to each one of your manic ramblings and gave you reassurances whenever you needed it. Before he left for your place that night, he made sure to stop by his usual florist to purchase a big bouquet of your favorite flowers, hoping that the vibrant arrangement could offer some repose to your restlessness.

A couple of minutes later, Spencer found himself coming face to face with the view of a familiar door. His grip around the bouquet tightened as he knocked on the wood three times.

"Coming!" you exclaimed from inside the apartment.

When the door finally swung open, Spencer nearly collapsed as he felt the air being knocked completely out of his lungs.

Spencer realized, then, that in the ten months the two of you had been together, there had never been any special occasion where the two of you were required to dress to the nines. And as lovely as you always looked in Spencer's eyes, nothing could have prepared him for the sight of you standing in a luxurious dress, all dolled-up like the epitome of timeless beauty whose fairness they used to sing about back in the old days.

The material of the dress flowed and hugged your body in all the right places, giving Spencer a calculated peek to the vast skin underneath that he had mapped out countlessly in the past. The dress itself came in a color that complimented the natural gleam of your skintone. You looked radiant as you stood there with the dress and your makeup perfectly in place. Still, as stunning as you were at that moment, Spencer knew that the dress wouldn't be as captivating as it was had it been any other person wearing it instead of you.

"Spencer." The sound of his name in your enthralling voice brought Spencer back out of his stupor. "Can you wait a minute? I need to find my purse. I swear, I put it somewhere around here. And shoes! Shit. I haven't chosen what shoes to wear."

You flew around the apartment with the most anxious elegance Spencer had ever seen in a person. He wordlessly walked into the threshold and kicked the door shut behind him. You reappeared in front of Spencer barely five minutes later, holding a matching purse in your hand and standing four inches taller courtesy to the heels you were wearing.

"Okay, I'm ready!" you announced. "Spencer? Why are you looking at me like that? What, do I have something on my face? Crap, is it my lipstick?!"

Spencer stepped closer as you began rummaging through the tiny purse you were carrying. He gripped your wrist in his hand, stopping your ministrastions until you finally looked up at him.

"You look beautiful," Spencer admitted in a breathless murmur. "So gorgeous."

Without a word of warning, Spencer used his free hand to pull you closer by the waist, connecting his desperate lips with your sweet ones. You yelped against him before melting completely into his embrace, letting his tongue dominate your own as your delight erupted in a series of muffled whimpers. It felt as if hours had passed—your legs threatening to turn into jelly underneath you—when Spencer eventually pulled away, resting his forehead on top of yours as the two you tried to catch your breath.

"You have lipstick on your face." You laughed, wiping the reddish stain around Spencer's lips as your boyfriend chuckled wholeheartedly. "Not that I didn't appreciate the passionate display of affection, darling, but what was that for?"

"Nothing. I just love you so much."

"Uh-huh." You raised a pair of unimpressed eyebrows at him, your lips curving up one degree further when you saw what he was holding in his hand. "Is this for me?"

Spencer grinned as he presented the bouquet in your face. "Who else?"

You offered a quick thank you before rushing towards the kitchen where you relocated the flowers into a vase. Spencer followed closely behind, gaze never straying far from you as you pranced around the space fluidly.

"It's pretty." You hummed appreciatively as you set the vase on the kitchen peninsula. "Thank you, Spencer."

"Anything for you, sweetheart," he replied. Spencer's stare raked over your entire figure for the hundredth time in the last fifteen minutes, a twinkle in his eyes when he finally found your expectant gaze directed at him. "You know, the party venue isn't really far from here."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Spencer whispered, stealthily moving towards you as if he was a predator stalking its prey. "And the party doesn't start for another fifteen minutes anyway, so there's no reason for us to leave right away."

A familiar fire burned brighter behind your eyes with every inch of distance Spencer managed to consume. "Is that so?"

"Absolutely." He was standing in front of you now, fingers dancing up and down your arms calling for goosebumps to rise on their wake. "Besides, I don't think anyone would mind if we arrive a few minutes late, right? After all, it's not our party."

"No, it's not." You gasped when Spencer shoved your body towards him, your chest flush against his to the point where you could feel the thumping of his heart on top of yours. "Fuck, Spencer. Just kiss me."

Groaning, Spencer didn't waste a single second before he claimed your lips in a hungry kiss. Spencer's palms roamed every expanse of flesh he could reach, eager to hear you sing his praises in the form of enraptured moans and gasps that elicited a blazing flame inside his own body.

Needless to say, as much as Spencer loved seeing you in that dress, he didn't think there was any greater sight than watching it thrown haphazardly on the floor.

[highquality-not]

some sapphic deadclaws/poolverine headcanons (several of which feature in my fics) for people who enjoy women:

winnie is lactose intolerant and just pretends she isn't 89% of the time, which works out well because logan doesn't trust alternative milks

logan does not tolerate polyester well since she grew up when it didn't exist. she only wants natural fibers and will steal the nicer clothes from winnie's closet (and won't talk about it)

also logan really enjoys classical music, which winnie despises with a burning passion

logan doesn't know the word for bisexual and that's okay because she finds most men abhorrent. she's attracted to them yes but wouldn't date like 75% of them because they piss her off

winnie has played cbat while getting out the strap before

winnie has a whole selection of cute clothes but almost unilaterally wears the cursed & goofy ones around the house. logan gets whiplash every time winnie actually wears her nice clothes, especially on their first date

as canadians they are both contractually bound to not fully understand fahrenheit, and thus neither are ever prepared for the weather outside

also logan watches hockey

winnie grew up doing ballet and never shuts up about it

the developing queer community in the 20th century thrilled logan because she got to play around with different styles and gender presentations and find something that suited her amongst groups of people like her

the two of them are incorrigibly horny and have to move out of blind al's apartment together very quickly because they’re too fucking loud for like four hours at a time (they switch)

logan finds asmr really creepy and makes winnie turn it off, mostly because winnie only listens to boyfriend asmr

when the tva gives logan some id documents she uses them to immediately go get the most boring manual labour job. none of her coworkers know she's wolverine either, they just see that her girlfriend puts cute notes in her lunch

winnie had a mastectomy (or a top surgery or a reduction, i leave this up to interpretation in my fics) before her mutation started & still has the scars

they match each other's freak perfectly because they're two sides of the same coin :,)

[darkdemeter]

・issue/clipping #2・ SOLDAT'S REPRISE

⚤ Winter Soldier x Female Reader 18+ Psychological and sexual thriller — mention of previous supposed "dub-con" encounters, stalking, minor medication usage and trauma — paranoid reader — small SMUT scene, depicted as non/con sleep sex — unprotected sex — dark Winter Soldier — possible grammar/punctuation errors — I think that's it? ✎ 3.4k Things are getting out of hand. You feel like you're a ship slowly sinking into the dark depths below. You're being hunted, you just know it, but perhaps there is hope in the form of the friendly local deputy. Little do you know what the Winter Soldier is always watching your every move.

↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────

Nobody believes ghost stories. That’s the advantage he carries, you have found. He’s a ghost and thus, any mention of his haunting presence is absolved to the grave of a dismissed and silenced voice. A cry for help. 

You feel so alone here. This home that you founded for yourself, made an attempt to lead a life of normalcy and peace. A life where you weren’t spending your tired hours looking over your shoulder and praying that rounding the next corner wouldn’t be your last. 

He had invaded the sanctity of the very place you were meant to feel safe in. He robbed you of the only comfort you had to cling to after everything else went so wrong. 

Every shadow that creeps and waves past the drawn curtains sends you into a frenzy, feet shifting and muscles locking up with the flight or fight response kicking in as electrical surges through your skin, your gut churning and your heart rapping tight against your chest. Every inkling of something dark moving in the hallway has tears prickling the corner of your vision, imagining those cold blue eyes locked on you. Every closet, every corner — every room is now under siege of being a possible hiding place for him. 

You’re forced to undertake that terrible fucking feeling that your soul has jumped out and is latched like tar to your spine. 

Your doctor didn’t believe you. Nobody ever did. It made you feel alone in this town, this heavily pitched, “We’re a tight-knit community that cares for all its residents!”. Putting the product to the board really begins to measure up this so-called community and their nosey personality to happily peek into your life. Did they all know and were too scared for their own lives to help?

You couldn’t blame them, though you probably should. You just can’t. 

He can be anywhere. Even now…

In the broadness of daylight you still suffer the tiresome weight of fear that steeps over you, drawing you out into a state of exhaustion that leaves you further vulnerable. You just… sense him. He’s around though you can’t pinpoint his exact location, you just know deep down in your gut that he’s watching you right now while you walk through the streets.

The leathery scuffle of your boots are trimmed by the cause of a car horn blurting out. “Hey, watch where you’re going!” the driver yells, face red and scrunched up like a swollen balloon ready to pop. 

He slams his fist down on the horn again in a frightful warning. A loud, treacherous horn that signals the arrival of something dangerous, someone that can kill you – but he doesn’t. He moves like he intends to, but he never commits to the final strike. It’s like he gets aroused by the painful implication that he inflicts upon you. 

It’s sunny but the air is smothered by a strange aura of fog, cloudy but not entirely that you can still see several blocks up ahead. You can see the local diner. 

Just a little more. 

You hear the clobber of footsteps behind you, by your guess without arousing suspicion and looking, you’d estimate… 5 feet in distance, give or take?

He really did turn you into a little paranoid freak. They’re heavy, keeping a steady pace that thins out a constant line of anxiety, each step you take he mimics it with one that echoes in the bounds of your mind. Your heart rate thumps with a bruising beat, it’s beginning to put a straining ache on your ribs. 

It’s someone else.

It’s… it’s someone else…

It’s— it’s him, it’s him!

The footsteps pick up to heave a faster pace, the sickening pound of heavy combat boots floods your train of thought. You remember a time of running through the dingy lit halls in Hydra’s underground base. Their brain-fried dog easily keeping track of you no matter what corner you turned, what darkened environment you broke into in your haste to escape. 

“It’s a training montage. It will ensure that he can keep track of his target.” That was what Rumlow had said to you. 

You’re caught in a half spin, almost stumbling over on the sidewalk to meet him face to face, only to falter back when he looks at you with a furrowed decline to his features, confused by your reaction. 

“U-uh, sorry,” you mumble and lower your gaze down. It’s someone else. Dark brown eyes, sandy brown hair cut short and tousled.

He passes you easily to meet with a girl. She’s quite pretty, you don’t believe you’ve seen her around before but maybe you have. It gets hard to finalise and familiarise faces, names and their personalities when you holster yourself up in the town’s wooded outskirts. 

You like the privacy it gives you, however much it’s now put you at risk. 

The joined couple talk with a cheerful ambiance of their romance, happily flourishing and unawares of the troubles you face and they turn into a nearby shop to browse its contents. 

Meanwhile, you continue on towards the diner. 

It’s hard to enjoy a moment of fresh air when you know you’re being hunted, being stalked by a lowly predator that hides in plain sight. 

But by some divine intervention, you finally reach the parking lot of the diner. Weaving through the parked cars and across the wetted tarmac from the morning’s earlier spittle of rain, you hurry along like the obedient rabbit of his chase, hopping quickly to the false security of a burrow. 

You stop just mere feet away from the inviting pavement to see the car at your side. A smile almost spreads on your lips and a sigh escapes you, your shoulders unbunched from the tension they held. You enter the diner far more eagerly, still tinged by the bleeding trail of your fear but you now hold to hope. 

You avoid the eyes of the other customers that stare at you, feeling like you’re committing a walk of shame as you move with quickly paced rumbles steps, the thickened hide of your heels much louder in the soft bustle of the diner. 

You see him sitting in one of the center booths that line the window panes. A fresh refill of coffee steaming from his mug, a finished palette of breakfast and now munching in a rewarding muffin as he reads over what you assume to be his latest report. 

His shining deputy badge being your saving grace in this nightmare. 

He only looks up to meet your eyes that smile equally as his lips do, beautiful dark honey orbs glistening with a vibrancy that’s warm and inviting. 

“Hey, Y/N,” he says smoothly over the rim of his next sip of coffee. 

You shoot back quickly and out of breath. “Hi, Riley.”

His detective instincts kick in immediately, sensing something amiss by the dishevelled state of yourself. Eyes sunken in by dark circles yet sorely irritated and puffy from crying. Your breath is practically rabid as you breathe in and out with attacking panic. 

“What’s up, are you okay?”

“No, I’m not,” you answer shortly. His hand gestures for you to take the booth seat before him and you do, sliding down into it. “Riley, I need your help. I’m in trouble and I have nobody to turn to.”

He nods, tousled lengths of his sandy blonde hair move over his temples and forehead. His large arms cross over themselves and rest on the table. 

“Of course. What’s going on?” 

Your eyes fog over with that familiar heat of tears. You want to cry, to let it all out, finally finding an anchor at port in the safety Riley made you feel. Honestly he was the only good thing about this town. He was everything you needed. Maybe everything you wanted. If only you weren’t so terrified after the repercussions of your prior intimacy with the very man who now won’t leave you in peace. 

Your throat starts to choke, tightening until it hurts as you try to suppress the tears and theatrics. Riley’s brows furrow and he reaches a hand forward, a strong hand that guides and protects, and he takes hold of your quivering arm. His thumb absently strokes the slivered reveal of your wrist between your sleeve and glove. 

“Hey,” he whispers, “It’s alright. Deep breaths for me, that’s it, nice and slow. Talk to me, what’s going on?”

How his eyes solemnly swear that everything will be alright and that he will protect you. So why is it so hard to tell him? Is it shame that you’ll scare him away, that he’ll think you’re batshit crazy if you tell him—

“I’m being stalked.”

Something in the corner of his brow twitches, arching. A shiny spark emits in the pools of his dark eyes, catching the light from outside and revealing a vulnerable trigger that you think you misconstrued as something more than a concerned friend or an officer taking his job seriously. 

“Do you know by who?” he questions with a firm press of his voice. 

Shakily, you nod. “Yes.”

His eyes shift, the dark onyx pivoting left and right with a contemplative gate. Then, Riley looks back to you, almost silently pressing for you to answer. And it’s then that you hesitate. You stutter over your response, the words too heavy to speak and he understands. 

“How long has this been going on? Does anyone else know?”

You want to laugh and you half-heartedly do, the sound dry and cynical in your throat. Your back presses straight into the booth seat. “I-saw saw him a few nights ago in my home!” your voice is a sharp whisper, “and I told my doctor and— and she told me that I was hallucinating, that it was just a mental relapse and I—” 

Your body jerks forward as your hands cup your face, tears sting the line of your vision. You just want to live life normally. All you want is to be left in peace. Why couldn't the past just let you go?

“I— I don’t know what to do, Riley… I really don’t.”

The muscles beneath your skin contract and pull tightly, almost painfully so, your body begins to tremble with vibrating distress. “I feel like nobody believes me, I thought I could ask for your help or the Sheriff’s— Riley, I— can’t do this. I can’t…”

Your breathing becomes terribly shaken, sniffling as you attempt to calm yourself. Your body falls forward more and the instinct to crawl into a ball is powerfully overwhelming. You can feel the condensating judgment of the other diner dwellers, eyes shifting uncomfortably between you and their own business. The way that someone clears their throat loudly, stool squeaking under their weight and the ruffle of a newspaper obscuring one of the lonely patrons in the back booth, your blurry vision unable to comprehend the printed bold title or the gloved hands that hold it. 

You press your head against your folded arms that lay on the table, barely making out the quickened hush of Riley’s voice coaxing you. 

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His hand reaches out for you and it touches you, you feel the warmth of his hand against you. 

“I believe you.”

Your tear ridden eyes raise up to meet Riley’s eyes, a gasp hitched in your throat. You choke out softly. “Y-you do?”

“Yes.” He leans forward that bit closer. “And I will protect you.”

His words are a relief, a form of assurance to cling to like a lifeline. That’s all you wanted to hear. You try to mirror his smile before the waitress comes over, coffee pot held in her grip. 

“Need anything else, Deputy?” she asks and Riley motions to you with a nod of his stubbled chin. Cheeks flushed with a rosy tinge and eyes puffy, you wipe away the stray rivers of drying tears and lower your eyes away from the waitress.

“Just a coffee to go, her usual. Put it on my tab and uh…” Your heart almost skips a beat the way he looks to you, dimpled cheeks as he smiles a bit wider and his dark eyes seemingly aglow with a honeyed tint. “Some apple pie or that new chocolate chip muffin cake they got?”

“Thanks again, Riley,” you say, hand rumbling the paper back in your palm a distant tune as you take a small sip from your coffee. Already, you were beginning to feel better as you walked with Riley out to his car. 

“No problem. Told you I’d look out for ya when you first moved here, didn’t I?”

The memory of your first meeting brings a small smile to your lips, eyes once sunken and gloomy lighting up through the thin stream from the coffee cup. “Yeah. Still, I’m grateful for all you’re doing. I had hope but… I didn’t want to count on anything, you know, just in case you didn’t believe me.”

“Just know that you’re not alone. Anything, and I mean it, anything else happens or you don’t wanna be alone up there,” he says and pulls out his notepad and pen. He scribbles something down and hands the torn out page to you, his touch mingling against yours as you take it from between his fingers. “Just call me and I’ll be right over. Don’t worry about the hour or anything, on duty or off, I’ll find a way to you.”

The coffee and muffin cake, the caring personality, giving his private phone number to you; what could it all mean? For a split second you forget that you’re in the midst of a stalker case, that you are being haunted by the very manifestation of your past. Something in your brain offers you a second’s respite that this is just an ordinary meeting between two people, a regular occurrence that feels like a date. It’s nice to feel this sense of normalcy. 

But in staring at the digits of his number a little longer, that facade falls away, leaving you to remember why he was helping you; giving you so much attention. 

“Again, thank you.”

“I’ll also pass it on to the Sheriff and get his say on it. Find out what we can do to catch this guy.” 

You nod as though to agree, that there is a chance that they will catch him. You wish it were possible but with what you’ve seen, what you have come to know about the Winter Soldier… all capture of him is impossible. Even if they somehow manage to track him down, he’ll be gone before they can dream of getting him. 

He’s a ghost among men. 

“Do you think the Sheriff will believe it?” you ask Riley, watching carefully as he clicks his tongue and the skin under his eye wrinkles. 

“He’s dealt with a few cases like this before when he worked in the city. There haven't been many stalker cases here.” He shrugs then, looking around. “But even if he doesn’t, then just know you have me. I’ll make sure that you never have to worry about him again. You’re going to be okay. I’m here for you.”

That’s all he needed to hear. So, this Riley would now be an obstacle of justice in his way. Newspaper hiding the device sat on the table, the wired bud linked to his ear to listen to the bug he’d placed in your bag. 

He had to listen to the way Riley was sweet talking you, how he made you feel safe. Protected. Something burns a hole in his chest and makes his blood run hot at the sight of another man making you smile. He had to sit back as he offered to drive you back home and further insist when you at first refused, only to then give in. He had to watch from the cover of his position as you dare get into another man’s car after he opens his door for you. 

Of course, how could he blame him? You were a pretty little doll. But you were his pretty little doll. His little rabbit that he took great delight in chasing after, watching you whimper and fall apart under him, around him during those late and intimate hours. 

His bright, icy blue eyes grow darker, colder with hate and seething possessiveness. He won’t let a badge stand in his way. Six long years it’s taken him. He lost you once and he will make sure that you never leave him again. 

After Riley had dropped you off, you had made the rounds of alternating the security system and changed the digital pins. You did it every day to ensure that nothing was left to chance. 

When nightfall broke over the valley and you were left in a dark, snowy solitude by yourself, you drew all curtains to close, gritting your teeth at the chattering of the rings on the pole. 

You ignored the rattling tap of the tree branch you still haven’t managed to deal with. You did what work you could, tried to relax after making yourself some dinner and a warm beverage, all the while caught in a silent and haunting conflict.

You knew that Riley was just a call away. Anytime, anything you needed and he was there. But you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched by a predator. 

Now you lay in bed, fast asleep around the 12:15am after you took some of that medication to help you sleep. It did wonders for nights that felt restless. They just still seem to not impact the side effect of waking up with a scream in your throat at the cost of your nightmares. 

But tonight, it seems you’re granted respite. Your hips roll against something that in turn mimics the action against you. A soft, crackly whimper parts your lips and you feel a jolt of pleasure shoot through your abdomen, twisting blissfully and you moan aloud.

He loves the sounds you make for him in your sleep. They way that even when your conscious mind isn’t awake, your body complies to the pleasure he gives you. He doesn’t want to think about Riley having you like this. It only speeds up the ruthlessness of his thrusts that ring your cunt walls around his length, your slick coating him as he sheathes in and out, in and out fast and unfashionably quick. 

A mix of flesh and metal hold you down on the bed by your hips, fingers leaving a painful reminder on the supple there; a small puzzle piece for you to discover in the grand scheme of plan for you. 

You moan again but it’s cut up, jostled with a bubbly whine as you struggle to breathe air into your lungs. Your thighs tremble and squeeze tight around whatever force that pistons between them. Your voice chokes on a whimpered sound of a name.

His heart sinks…

Your walls clench around him when he hits that spot and you cry out, stirred from your dreams and the creaking of your bed is heard in the otherwise deafening silence. That and muffled, masculine pants.

Your vision is blurred by the cover of sleep but your reaction doesn't take long to take place. 

Your eyes are shot wide open and your mouth falls agape with a scream, “Solda— mmm! Mmfmm!”

His gloved hand shoots out to cover your mouth and nose, muffling the sound of your terrified screams and he forces his thrusts to quicken. He doesn’t pay any sort of worried attention to the reflective glisten of tears in your eyes, highlighting the colour of them beautifully. You cried so much from the pleasure he brought you to in those late hours that he can no longer tell the difference. He grunts at the way your slick and hot walls surround him. How he’s missed this. 

Your stomach churns and twists, but your body visibly shakes and your skin goes between cold flushed and heated surges as your cunt swallows every single inch he gives you. His pace has only increased, the bevel between his dark brows shows and nothing else you can see — want to see — is hidden by that mask. With a final groan he cums, pulling out just as the first spurts paint over your outer folds and clit, smearing across your lower belly. You feel like your body has become numb with fear. 

“He stays away from what’s mine… or he dies.”

THANKS FOR READING!

✎ no note from the author

on this issue's taglist, we've got: @kandis-mom @wintrsoldrluvr @mrsnikstan

[irishmammonagenda]

Catholic MC gets sent into hell! Maybe it was clickbait!! (part three)!!!

introduction, part one, part two, part three (you are here)

content warnings: implied AFAB MC, they/them pronouns used, ambiguous ending? kinda short

The council room was once more enveloped in an awkward silence. Lucifer barely masks the distate in his eyes as MC utters the words.

Beel, stops munching on his snack, giving a sad but innocent (or as innocent as a demon can be) smile, "His name's Belphie... well...Belphegor but we call him Belphie...He's up in the human world right now for his exchange program...so you wont be seeing him I don't think."

MC nods absentmindedly, Lucifer, for being the Avatar of the Gays...(Pride joke) was acting kinda sus. (gay joke)...either way, this was fever dream inducing.

Simeon smiles awkwardly, something felt...off.

Lucifer clears his throat..."Anyway, Mammon will be responsible for taking care of you." He says practically thrusting Mammon in Mc's face, which made sense seeing as the tan demon in question was trying to book it.

"Nuhuh!"

"Yuhuh." Lucifer mutters under his breath.

"Nuhuh!" MC chimes in.

"Shut up both of you!" Satan says, knowing him having an 'outburst' would stress Lucifer out more. He wasn't actually annoyed, in fact, he was quite amused.

MC looks around at the Demons, Angels and very shady man that's definitely from France and thus cannot be trusted. (Solomon is in no way french, and is offended by that notion.)

"Okay...Sorry for freaking out earlier...." MC mumbles to the group embarassedly.

"You're fine! No harm was done" Diavolo reassures them, though Simeon still can't shake the feeling.

And that's fair enough, as up above, above the shining ever-present Devildom Moon, above the ever changing realm of the humans, above their fluffy clouds and shiny sun, in the Celestial realm a certain Archangel kept watch, watching his brothers, both estranged and un, the Devildom Prince and Butler, as well as the shadiest man he has ever met (who is not french apparently) and a small, fragile human.

He was omnipresent, a fly on the wall if you may, careful not to move lest the Prince or the Butler notice him. Shouldn't've prayed to him so much in such a short span of time, little lamb.

After all, we all have our skeletons in our closets, perhaps in our attics, too.

[kirasworldofwords]

11, 43, 44, 30 :D

And because I know we both love Chestappen, have some of it. 🫶🏻

Prompt 30: Only one bed

The situation was ridiculous, really.

In the dead of night, Sergio lay wide awake, his teammate - and biggest crush to date - plastered against his back, deeply asleep and snoring away quietly. Max had both of his arms wrapped around the older Mexican, whose heart almost jumped out of his chest by then, it was beating that strong. Their legs were entangled with each other's, too.

How did they get into this situation again...? Oh, right. The hotel gave them a room with only a Queen sized bed in it due to wrongful booking beforehand. As compensation, as they said - the "compensation" being a better view and a bigger bathroom.

The whole time, Sergio wondered how he'd survive the night, knowing Max. The Dutchman was quite open about his queerness, wasn't afraid to stand up for himself and his rights at all. Sergio, on the other hand... was still deeply closeted. He knew he liked men, he liked Max in particular, but he could never say it out loud. God would hate him for it.

Thus, all he could do... was lay there. Wide awake and unable to fall asleep, not when there was this particularly handsome and tall Dutchman named Max Emilian Verstappen, triple world champion, spooning him as he slept soundly.

At some point, Max even subconsciously buried his nose in Sergio's hair and sighed deeply. The latter blushed wildly at this action, trying hard not to let it get to him or to freak out. But admittedly... that was much easier said - or thought - than done.

Max stirred all of a sudden, and Sergio flinched at the abrupt movement. He groaned, blinked slowly, and gave his teammate a tired yet also confused look.

"Checo...? Why are still up...?"

Upon hearing the sound of Max's tired voice, how deep, raspy and heavily accented it was, Sergio's heart skipped a beat. Max knew him too well, didn't he... He could tell, from the way Sergio breathed alone, that the Mexican was still awake - a part of the older man was unsettled by that fact, another adored feeling cared about.

"Ah, nothing, Maxy. Just thinking. Go back to sleep."

His mouth betrayed him when the nickname "Maxy" came out of it, making Sergio sound way more desperate than he intended himself to. And the triple world champion didn't seem to buy it either.

"You think too loud... Something's wrong."

... Was he that see-through...?

Sergio's toes curled and uncurled themselves underneath the sheets, eyes downcast with a worried and somewhat scared look in them. He sighed shakily and coiled into himself just the tiniest bit, yet enough so that Max noticed it.

"Me odiarías..." (You'd hate me)

Max hummed in response and nuzzled himself even closer to the smaller man, this time consciously and willingly so.

"I think you forgot that I speak some Spanish, too, thanks to you. I could never hate you, mate... If I did, we wouldn't even be teammates anymore by now. Don't want this to end in a Lewis and Britney kind of way after all, do we?"

A hand landed in Sergio's hair, threading through it carefully. Tears prickled in the corners of the older man's eyes at the touch he received from his crush, and he sighed shakily.

"I... I guess."

Behind him, the Dutchman shushed his teammate, holding him closer than ever before as he stroked his beautiful black curls.

"It's okay, Chequito, I know... We'll talk about this in the morning, okay, liefde? Let's get some rest for now."

Sergio nodded shyly, an almost imperceptible nod of agreement. His heart screamed in sheer happiness at the nicknames he received, though a pang of fear coursed through his chest, too. So Max indeed knew... And here Sergio was, thinking he hid it so well.

"Hiding it well" his ass.

"Claro."

He felt the tiny smile Max gave him, as well as the soft kiss in his hair that followed.

"Great. Sleep well, then. Houd van je."

Sergio didn't need a translator to know that Max basically just confessed to him, hope suddenly bubbling up in his chest and making him smile. He finally got comfortable in between Max's arms, pressing his back even closer to the younger Bull's chest, which allowed the older driver to feel Max's heartbeat against his back.

"Love you too, Maxy."

[vanfleeter]

My Love: Chapter 7

Characters: Jake Kiszka x Sara Warnings: 18+ || Gore. Vampires. Blood. Blood drinking. Mentions of death and murder. Fire. Burning. Angst. Physical violence. Self doubt. Crying. Tears. Yelling. Arguing. Smut. Sex. Penetrative sex. Cockblocking. Heated make out.

Only a few weeks have gone by since we brought Sara back home and ever since then she has kept herself locked in our bedroom. I’ve tried everything to get her to come out.

Sex.

Blood – human and animal.

Yet nothing has worked thus far. I hadn’t seen a vampire so reserved and so closed off. The guilt of all the humans she killed has been eating at her. And while I’ve been trying to help Sara and coax her out of the bedroom, Danny has been anticipating Nora’s return back home. He’s been getting their house cleaned and ready when she returns. One speck of dust and she’ll never let him hear the end of it. If there’s one thing to know about Nora is that she is a neat freak, even when she feeds. She never wastes a drop of blood and she never gets it anywhere else on her or her chosen victim.

I’m hoping having her here again, she’ll be able to help Sara too. Nora’s been in this kind of situation before, but maybe having another female around will get Sara to talk, or at least come out of the bedroom as a first step. Just something to get her out of her mind and focused on something else.

I tried to be sneaky and have Sam come over one day and infiltrate her mind with anything happy. That only resulted in her causing immense pain to him and him limping away and refusing to ever come near her again until she’s back to her regular self again.

Silently stepping into the room, I watch her as she still sits in front of the window. That’s all she does is sit at the window and stare out of it. What she’s even looking at, besides the same old trees, is beyond me. I slip into the closet and change clothes before going back out to the room and sitting on the side of the bed.

“Are you coming to bed?” I ask, as I have every night since we got back home.

Her eyes slowly leave the scenery outside and focus on me. I brace myself for whatever pain she decides she wants to inflict on me, but instead all I see is nothing in her eyes. Absolutely nothing. Did she flip her switch again? Instead of speaking, she just turns her eyes back to the window and drops her chin into the palm of her hand.

I take that as a no.

“Please come to bed?” I ask, trying again.

“Jake…” I move closer to the edge of the bed, hope festering in my chest. “Do you still love me?”

“Do I..” I slide off the bed and kneel beside her chair. “Of course I still love you.” I reach up and grab her chin in my hand so I can turn her head. “Why would you ask me that?”

“Because of what I did..” Her voice shakes and her eyes glisten with tears. “I’m your nightmare..”

“Sara, no..” I reach further up on my knees and draw her in for a kiss. “You didn’t have a choice..”

“How can you still love me?” A tear slips down her cheek and I rub my thumb over her skin to wipe it away.

“I can still love you because I know the real you, Sara. The intense feeling you have right now is remorse. If you didn’t care about what happened, then we'd be having an entirely different conversation.” I crack a small smile and reach back over to kiss her cheek.

“Will I ever go back to normal?” She asks. “How long will this feeling last?”

“It’s all dependent on you,” I say. “You’re in control of your emotions and your mind.” I stand to my feet and hold out my hand to her. “Come lay with me, please?” She meerily nods her head and pushes herself out of the chair.

Together we climb into bed and she instantly curls herself into my body. I still miss feeling the warmth that her body used to give off, I still miss feeling her heart beating. It still beats just differently. One thing though that hasn’t changed is the smell of strawberries. That little red fruit used to make her blood so sweet and so delicious when she was human.

I feel a cool touch to my groin making me flinch. Looking down I see Sara’s hand sliding over my thigh and grasping my length lightly in her hand. “I’ve missed you..” She whispers close to my ear.

“I missed you too,” I say, turning my head to look at her. She looks up at me with doey eyes and I feel myself completely falling to her mercy.

“May I?” She says as she starts to slide the waistband of my sweatpants down to release my now aching dick. I nod my head and she kisses my cheek before sliding her nightgown up her body and swinging her legs over my waist to straddle me. “And when I say that I missed you, I really mean it.”

I chuckle and knead my fingers into her ass. “I’ve really missed you too.”

Within seconds she’s completely sunk down on me, the feeling so intense as if it’s our first time together all over again. Her fingers dig into the skin of my chest as she slowly starts moving her hips. I can’t help but to thrust my hips upwards, driving myself deeper inside and making her moan loudly.

I’m so glad we aren’t still at my brothers’ place. I won’t be teased in the morning because of how loud she is.

I can’t resist the urge to flip us over so that now I’m on top and she’s below me. “For once, let me on top.” She laughs.

“I can’t help it,” I pant before leaning down to kiss her. “You know that I love being in control.”

“Well maybe sometimes, we should switch–” She flips us back over so that she’s straddling my waist again. She pins my arms down to the pillows above my head and gradually picks up the speed of swiveling her hips.

“Fuck.. Sara, don’t do that..”

“Aww, can’t handle not being in charge?”

“Of course.. I can..” I strain against her hold on me, fighting against the throbbing feeling of needing to release. “Fuck..”

I let my head back into the pillows as my orgasm washes over me, my body tensing beneath her. She’s still moving, not wanting to stop even as I feel her own release cover me. But soon she does stop and collapses onto my chest breathing heavily. I feel wetness pooling on my skin and I look down to see her tears leaving wet trails as they slide down my ribcage.

When becoming a vampire, every emotion is heightened, especially sadness. I’ve learned that sadness is the strongest one, and I guess now–so has she..

Carefully removing myself from inside of her, I slid her off from on top and onto the bed beside me. I turn to my side and pull her into my body.

“Why can’t I stop crying?” She says, her voice muffled against my chest. “This sucks worse than when I was human..” I chuckle and bend my head down to kiss her forehead. She swats at my chest before rolling away from me. “It’s not funny..”

“It kind of is,” I say as I prop myself up on my elbows. “Babe, I’ve told you this.. Your emotions are heightened when you transition, they always will be–but you have to learn how to control them.”

“But this sucks!” She cries as she pulls her knees up to her chest.

“This will get easier,” I tell her as I wrap my arms around her and pull her close.

“And if it doesn’t?” She says. “What if.. What if I turn into Sitovo and go bat shit crazy?”

“You won’t go crazy,” I say. “Not if I can help it.” Pulling away from her, I climb off the bed and grab hold of her legs to pull her to the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing?” She groans as I pull her off the bed.

“We are going to go hunt..”

“Jake.. I think I’ve had my fill of that..”

“Not humans.. Deer..”

“Ja-a-ake…” She whines. “After everything that I’ve been through, do you really think letting me kill Bambi is a good idea?”

I laugh and kiss her lips. “Just try it..”

“But it’s Bambi..” She pouts. “Can’t I just drink from a blood bag like the wimpy vampire that I am?”

“Wimpy?” I scoff. “Ha! You’re far from wimpy.” I wrap my arms around her and pull her close to me. “But I guess since you asked nicely, we can drink from a blood bag.”

“Drink,” I say, handing her a fresh bag of blood that I had retrieved from the cooler in the basement. “I’m going to go out back and take care of a few things.”

“Chris?” She questions as she pops open the bag. I nod my head and pull my hair back into a low bun. “How did you even manage to get his body back here?”

“It’s not that hard..” I say with a smirk.

One thing that I love about living in the middle of nowhere is that I can drag a body outside without any suspicious eyes on me while I do so. I always forget how heavy dead bodies can be. The aching in my shoulders doesn’t compare to the satisfaction that I have knowing that I finally ended Chris. For all these years I was stupid to believe that he ever cared. I was stupid to ever consider him a brother. I should have killed him a long ass time ago when I had the chance to do so.

We wouldn’t be in this predicament if he was already dead. Sara would still be human, still have the option to live a normal life. Of course the Onyx would still be after her, but at least I’d still have a shot to convince them otherwise. Convince them to keep her alive.

I always knew my time with her was limited, she knew that too. If I had to give her up, I would have with no hesitation if it meant keeping her safe. As much as it would have pained me to again lose someone that I love, I would know that she was safe and she could live a life of peace and of love.

The fire ignites after I throw a lit match on top of it. The warmth of the fire heated my body, only causing memories of feeling Sara’s warm body against mine.

Picking up his body, I toss it into the flames. First his clothes catch fire followed by his hair. His eyes are still wide open from when I killed him. Flashes of the day run through my mind as I watch the flames engulf his body completely. I had never seen a lick of fear in his eyes until that day. Never once has he ever shown fear but seeing it clear as day in his eyes, I felt power surge through me like I never have before. For once in the nearly five hundred years of my life, I finally felt strong and I finally felt like I was worth something.

I stayed outside, watching the flames burn until there was nothing left except for the ashes of his body and the kindle of the wood. Putting out what was left in the pit, I turn to look back at the house. Flickering light illuminates the bedroom window. A smile spreads across my face and I make my way back inside.

Getting up to the bedroom, I slowly push open the door and peer inside. Sitting on the bed with her legs crossed in front of her, she looks at me with a devilish grin on her face.

“Feeling better?” I ask as I walk up to the end of the bed.

“I will,” She says as she crawls along the bed. “But it seems like you need a release..”

“Baby, I got mine earlier.” I say.

Her hands skim across the exposed skin of my torso, beneath the unbuttoned fabric of my shirt. “Mmm, but that was for me, and you know it.”

“Did it help?” I say as she brings her hands back around my waist and tugs on the string of my sweatpants.

“A little,” She says. “I’m trying to be in control of my emotions and how I feel.”

“So you’re channeling it all into sex?”

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Most definitely not..”

I tilt her chin up and connect my lips to hers. Sliding my hands down her body, I grab the bottom of her nightgown and pull it up and over her head. Our tongues wrestle when we reconnect and she pushes my shirt off my shoulders and down my arms.

I got her laid out on the bed when suddenly the bedroom door flew open. “Woah! Hello!” Sam bellows out a laugh as I scramble to get my shirt wrapped around Sara’s naked body.

“Knock much?” I growl as I spin to face him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Apparently barging in on you for the second time,” He laughs. “Maybe you should start locking your front door. Anyways, we need you downstairs.”

“Why?”

“Just trust me..” He says before leaving the room and closing the door with him.

“Oh this better be good,” I say as I go over to the dresser and pull out different clothes for Sara. She gives me a look and I cock my eyebrow. “Uh uh, the last thing I want is for your lady bits to be on display for my brothers..”

“My lady bits?” She scoffs and rolls her eyes. “So possessive.”

I smile and press my lips to her forehead. “Sam already pushed his limits once, I’m not letting him test the waters again.” I can see her smirk from below the bridge of my nose and I slap my hand across her ass making her gasp. “Don’t even think about it. Now get changed and meet us downstairs.”

Upon entering the living room, I find not only my brothers seated around the room, but Ellis leaning against the mantelpiece and lighting a cigarette with the burning fire. “I do have a lighter,” I say as I take a seat beside Josh on one of the couches.

“This seemed cooler,” Ellis chuckles. “Anyways, you’re probably wondering why I’m here,” He clears his throat and turns to face me. A long cut stretches diagonally down his left cheek. It looks fresh. “The Onyx is on their way here..”

“And why are they coming here?” Danny asks.

“I don’t know,” Ellis says, shrugging his shoulders. “My eavesdropping didn’t go that far.” He falls quiet, his tiny smirk fading. I follow his line of sight and peer over my shoulder to see Sara slowly entering the room. “You look horrible,” Ellis chuckles.

“I’d be careful with what you say around her,” Sam says. “She doesn’t go easy.” Her eyes flash over to Sam and he holds his hands in the air. “I’m only speaking the truth.”

“They still want me dead, don’t they?” Sara says as she steps up to the back of the couch.

Ellis shrugs his shoulders and pushes his black locks behind his ears. “All I know is they’re coming here. None of it sounded threatening–”

“Nothing they ever say sounds threatening,” Danny says as he leans forward on his knees. “Their actions are more lethal than their words.”

“What am I supposed to do?” Sara asks. “Let them take me again? Be their fucking puppet again?”

“No,” I say standing up and taking her hand in mine. “We won’t let that happen.”

“You can’t exactly say ‘no’ when they tell you to do something.” Ellis says.

“I did once before,” I say. “I’ll do it again.”

“Oh yeah? Look how that ended up.” Ellis says.

“Whatever it is they’re coming here for, we just need to be prepared.” Josh says. “We shouldn’t jump straight to conclusions without knowing exactly the reason why they’re coming.”

I feel Sara remove her hand from mine and I turn to look at her. “I need to be alone.” She says as she starts to leave the room.

“Hey no,” I say as I go after her. I stop her at the bottom of the stairs. “Don’t lock yourself up in that room again. Don’t shut down again.���

“So what if I do? It’ll make killing me that much easier if I don’t fight back.”

“Would you stop talking like that?” I say as I grab hold of her shoulders. “No one is going to kill you.”

“You should’ve just let me die that day..” She pushes me away and storms up the stairs.

“Sara!” I shout as I go after her. The door slams shut in my face when I get there. Twisting the knob, I throw open the door letting it bang against the wall. “So you’d rather be dead than to be with me?”

“Not everything is about you!” She shouts as she shoves me backwards. “This is about me, Jake! My life–or whatever it is that I’m living–is on the line!”

“And I told you that I would protect you!”

“Oh yeah? And how is that working out for you? I’m dead!” She shouts, flinging her arms around the air.

“I thought that’s what you wanted?!” I shout back. “You begged me for so long to change you and I did!”

“You did it because you were being selfish! You never even asked me!”

“What?!”

She can’t be serious. How can I ask her when she was unconscious and on the verge of death? I cannot deny that I was selfish when I fed her my blood. I did not want to lose her. I did not want to bear that pain again.

“How could I ask you when you were on the verge of death?!” I shake my head, digging my fingers into my hair as I begin to pace back and forth. “The one time that I actually do something that you have been begging me to do, and then when I do it, it pisses you off because I didn’t ask you?! You make my head spin!”

“Get. Out.” She says, her eyes lighting up with fury.

“No,” I say, standing my ground.

“Fine..” She storms past me and out of the room.

“Sara!” I shout again. My voice echoes through the halls and bouncing off the walls. “If you walk out that door,” I say as I follow her down the stairs. “I will not protect you.”

“Well you haven’t been doing a good job anyways,” She says as she throws open the front door.

“Excuse me?” I storm out of the house after her, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to me. “I have done everything to keep you safe to the best of my ability. Sure it hasn’t always been perfect but dammit, I am only one fucking man who loves you so selfishly that it physically pains me.”

A drop of rain lands on my cheek and before either of us knows it, a downpour begins, drenching us both. We look at each other so intensely, both our bodies fuming with anger and lust. Before I can even get my own hands on her body, she’s pulling me into her with her lips crashing onto mine.

“Your emotions drive me insane,” I say when we pull apart.

“I can’t help it,” She breathes. “You made me this way.”

I smile and lean down to kiss her again.

“Pardon, we seem to be interrupting something..” Pulling away from Sara, I look over to the side only to find the Onyx standing under umbrellas and clad in raincoats. Michael steps forward and flashes his pearly white teeth smile. “Hello Jacob..”

“Michael..”

“Nice pleasantries just are not your thing, are they?”

“Towards you? Never..”

Michael chuckles. “Shall we go inside? It’s quite dreary out here.”

Resisting the urge to roll my eyes, I grab Sara’s hand and motion my other hand towards the door, allowing them to go first. Less of a chance of them getting their hands on her. I won’t take any chances. Josh was kind enough to get us both towels to dry off.

“Relax, Jacob. We come here with good intentions.” Michael says.

“Oh?” Josh speaks up. “That’s a surprise.”

“We put in a lot of thought,” Michael says as he takes a seat on the couch beside Danny. Danny gives him a once over before carefully sliding over to put a little distance between the two of them. The edges of my lips curved slightly as I watched him grow uncomfortable.

“About what?” Josh asks.

“Jacob’s relationship.”

I tighten my grip on Sara’s hand and turn my attention back to Michael. “Around and around in circles..” Josh sighs. “When will this ever stop? Can’t we just move on? She’s no longer human, she’s a vampire just like all of us in this room. Just let it go..”

Michael nods his head. “I completely agree..”

“I’m sorry, what?” Josh says. “Y-You agree?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well that’s a first..” Josh says before taking a sip of whiskey.

“I have thought about what I have done and I am here to issue a formal apology to Sara. I am sorry for all the pain and trauma that I have ordered upon you. I was so blinded by this need to make Jacob realize the mistakes he had made. I wanted him to see the monster he had created and feel regret, because I knew that was his biggest fear and why he was so adamant about not turning her in the first place. We have these rules for a reason and I knew that if I let one slide, I would have to do it for everyone..”

I can sense Josh rolling his eyes which makes my lips twitch ever so slightly.

“So.. I have decided to end this war with you all and wish to start over on a clean slate. I will allow this relationship to continue in its own way. As I can see that Jacob really does love you. I have not seen him so in love since…Vo.” Michael clears his throat.

Danny smirks beside him. “May she rest in ashes..” He mumbles around the glass of whiskey.

“Anyways..” Michael continues. “That was all I wanted to come here for. I believe we can show yourselves out.”

“Please do,” Sam smiles as he motions towards the front door.

“Though I have ended this war, this does not mean that we still won’t be watching you all. You will still be held responsible for any and all actions from here on out.”

“We expect nothing less.” Josh says. “Goodbye. Adios. Hope to never have to see you again.”

Once they were gone, I pry my hand from Sara’s and I turn to look at her. “You can breathe now,” I tell her. She actually releases a breath and I chuckle.

“Well I guess that’s our que to leave now too,” Josh says. “Considering what Sam broke up.”

“Maybe they shouldn’t be so-”

“You better shut up,” I warn.

“Or what? Gonna boil me from the inside out?” Sam laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not scary, Jake.” Sara sits forward and rests her eyes on Sam. “Ow! Ow! Sara!” Sam exclaims as his finger bones crack and bend in odd directions. She smirks a little before blinking and the bone breaking stops. “Why must I always be your victim?”

“You’re just easy,” She says as she stands from the couch. “Now leave.. Jake and I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

“You two nauseate me.” Suddenly Sam begins to slowly lift off the ground. I can’t help the laugh that creeps through as I watch him panic. “Sara, this isn’t funny.” He says. “Put me down!”

“It isn’t me.” She says.

“Then who’s got me dangling like this?”

“Hello boys..” Stepping from around the corner of the threshold is Nora with her finger held in the air and pointed at Sam.

“Nora!” Danny exclaims as he runs over to her.

“Nora?” Sam looks below him, only for a beaming grin to spread across his face. “Nora! Hey! Long time no see! Mind letting me down?”

“Sure,” She shrugs her shoulders and drops her hand to her side, effectively dropping Sam to the floor.

He groans in pain and rolls over to his hands and knees. “Gently…” He croaks.

“Oh sorry, I still can’t quite do it with ease.” She giggles softly before pulling Danny in for a kiss. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He says. “I thought you were dead.”

“I thought I was too,” She says before turning to look at Sara. “But she helped me escape. Told me to run or she’d have to break every bone in my body, no fault of her own though. Kind of a bitch, but I liked it. Suits her.”

“Well, she is with Jake.” Sam says, dusting off his clothes. He immediately throws out his hands in defense in Sara’s direction. “Don’t even think about it.”

I smile from my place on the couch and laugh just a little. Sam is officially scared of Sara. Who knew? Standing up from the couch, I walk over to the lovey dovey couple and pry them apart before hugging Nora.

“Glad to have you back, Nora.” I say. “Finally done traveling?”

“Well I wasn’t, technically–then the Onyx practically abducted me and well..traveling is officially over.” Nora explains after we pull apart. “You got yourself a keeper, by the way–and a strong one at that too. Definitely can resist being controlled, great actress.”

I look back at Sara and she shrugs her shoulders. “Fake it til you make it?”

“That’s my girl!” I exclaim as I go back over to her. “You are special.” I pulled her in for a kiss, not caring that they were still around.

“Alright, alright..” Josh sighs. “Now we’re leaving..”

I chuckle against her lips and pull away only long enough to see the front door being closed. Finally alone. Not going to be bothered again–hopefully.

I can feel her fingers walk along my jaw and she’s turning my head back so I’m looking at her. “I love you.” She says.

“I love you too.”

@losfacedevil @writingcold @edgingthedarkness @i-love-gvf @katuschka @josh-iamyour-mama @sammysstolenbirks @asendingtothestarsasone @hollyco @musicislove3389 @its-interesting-van-kleep @katiegvf @tinydancer40 @gretavangroupie @lizzys-sunflower @fleetingjake @takenbythemadness @godly-sinsx @psychedelectable @dancingcarbon @oliverfuckingreed @cheersdannyx2 @piratejtk @katuschka @thetroublegetssoloud71

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[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for not giving someone the wifi password and not telling my parents about it when they asked?

this happened a while ago and ik it sounds trivial but i feel so damn guilty and i just need to know if i did something wrong (fake names used ofc)

so about seven or eight months ago a friend of mine (liz, 16f at the time, now 17) was brought to our house. child protection services had taken her and her two brothers (they're all adopted, but one of the boys is her biological brother, who i'll call james) from their parents because the boys did something to their neighbor's dogs and were found wandering all over town at night. i'm not sure exactly what as i've never been told, but i deeply suspect it was something sexual. i'm not sure. about a week before this, my friend's dogs were brought over here, again because cps wanted them removed.

so my friend is now staying with me (16f) and my twin sister sister (anna). we have a large "closet" that is really more of an attic than anything, so we put liz in there because our house is small and we didn't want her sleeping on the couch.

for about a month, things went pretty well. we had a good time! we hung out a lot, and she told me about some volunteer firefighting she did, and also some farming stuff she did with her adoptive uncle (this is important for later). but she had a secret cellphone (her parents weren't big on cellphones and they were kinda strict) that she used to do social media behind their backs. most importantly, she was talking to an older guy (axel, 28m) via snapchat. anna and i have autism and adhd and are kinda clueless about some things, so we didn't think it was such a big deal at the time. so when she asked for the wifi password, i thought nothing of it. one day when my mom asked if she had a phone, i told her no bc liz asked me not to tell my parents and i thought being loyal to her was the right thing

well, one day, liz found her biological family via facebook and started contacting them

from what little i've heard, liz and james were taken from their bio parents because the mom was an alcoholic and doing drugs, and the dad was abusing them. they never visited the kids once. but now this mom is telling liz that she wants the kids back, and because of this, liz really wanted to go back to her bio family, even though they lived in another state that was pretty far away.

so she goes up to my mom and tries to talk to her about it. also, cps came by again and said liz couldn't sleep in the room she'd been sleeping in anymore because it had no windows and thus no fire escape. and my mom found out about the phone and the older guy she was talking to. things finally got so stressful that my parents had to have liz moved to another home about an hour away

now here's why i think i was the asshole. apparently, liz had been lying to me A LOT. she never actually did the firefighting work (she did some cooking for them. that's it) and when she said she knew how to milk a cow, she actually didn't know how, AND THEN WENT ON TO MILK OUR COW ANYWAY. IN FRONT OF MY DAD. it was insane and it made anna and i freak out because we have a hard time making friends sue to previous bullying issues at a school we'd gone to

later on i overheard my mom telling my dad that she was afraid that the bio parents were trying to groom her or something, and they didn't know i'd heard that. so now i'm afraid that i'm responsible for my friend leaving and all that. also, since she's left, liz has gone on to refuse to go back to her adoptive parents and has basically made their lives hell. and she keeps getting james upset by trying to convince him into thinkking that he should want to go back to the bio parents

so am i the asshole for hiding stuff frmo my parents?

(fyi: they have since known that i gave her the wifi password. they were pissed, but they realized that i didn't know any better and aren't mad at me)

What are these acronyms?

[light-lanterne]

random idea i just had:

a small offering @boycattj, @byelerss, @catboy-cabin, @conanssummerchild, @cosmobrain00, @dark-quill, @fenixashes, @fluffyfangirl, @holyvirgilscriptures, @foodiewithdahoodie, @hyperfixationcentralsvoid, @karenchildress @runninguplenorahills, @rotisseries, @saffirez, @willow-lark, @yearninginblue.

au where the party, nerds as they are, spend their afternoons in the school library reading novels and scientific journals, and playing a game of "who can find the weirdest trivia fact of the week". one day, as they are doing this, mike comes across a very unassuming notebook hidden amidst the oldest books in the library, the cover for which has three simple words written sloppily on its cover which read:

"do you dare?"

intrigued, mike opens the notebook and discovers a series of riddles and clues that has him running around the library and unveiling obscure novels and forgotten poetry books, each of them bringing him closer to crack the hidden code until, just in time before the library closes, he manages to uncover a rather confusing message:

"welcome to the hellfire club. you will find your first task inside your locker, first thing in the morning."

needless to say, he immediately discards it as absolute bullshit and goes on with his evening, saying goodbye to his friends and quickly forgetting about the affair as he heads home and busies himself with his homework.

however, he is immediately reminded of it all when he arrives at school the next morning, early for once, and finds a little note folded neatly atop his messy school books, the same handwriting as in the notebook staring him right in the face and he almost freaks out, for no one has his lock combination nor did he see anyone in the library other than his friends so there's no way anyone would've seen him figure out the code.

and yet there it is, and he kind of wants to scream, but he has to keep his composure lest he scares his arriving friends and gets in trouble with them for playing weird games without telling them about it.

thus, he hides the paper and decides to burn it as soon as he gets home, then opens it in the restroom during lunch for he is curious by nature and it certainly wouldn't hurt to just see what it has to say, right? it's only a piece of paper and he's completely and utterly alone here, so whoever's behind it can't possibly know if he read it or not,,, right ?

so he opens it, holds his breath for a moment, then reads it and sighs in relief as he notices it's nothing but a simple challenge:

"graffiti the bathroom stall."

a silly prank indeed. nothing mike hasn't done by himself quite a few times in the past, in fact, nor anything to freak out about considering it's a simple, harmless request.

so,,, mike decides to play along, if only so he can maybe figure out who is behind this and ask how they knew he'd cracked the code, how they figured out his locker combination, or what even is the hellfire club.

and at first, the challenges are rather innocuous: hide mrs. click's textbook before class, "misplace" the basketball's team storage key, put some roses in (will's) a classmate's locker without being spotted, free his neighbour's neglected dog and take it to a loving home, lock troy walsh's bike to a tree without him finding out.

then, they get a little more complicated: spend an entire day inside the cinema without paying a dime or getting kicked out, steal the chief of police's pen from his pocket, walk into a store's fitting room to try something then exit without paying while wearing the garment, make out sloppy with his male best friend in a broom closet during homecoming, take some of his parent's money and donate it to a cause they wouldn't support.

(make out with his best friend again during sunday's morning service at church, then escalate it a little more for extra points, if he dares)

little by little, mike gets lost in the game and soon he stops questioning the origin of the notes, or the increasing amorality of the requests, or how the one behind them always knows when he's succeeded. all he knows is that the notes have promised him a big reward should he complete fifty tasks successfully, and he's not about to give up now that he's come so far.

so he plays, and he becomes obsessed with winning, and it only occurs to him that something's terribly wrong when he reaches the fiftieth challenge and the note for his last task is left on his bedroom's desk, the black ink with which they'd all been written suddenly gone and replaced by red words.

"kill someone,"

his last challenge reads, and mike's much too involved to resist.

- the end -

(pretty sure this type of concept has a name, but i can't really remember it rn and i think the ending for that thing is far darker so let's leave it at this x.x also, feel free to imagine the type of funky business mike gets up to throughout the game; anything that would be "amoral" goes i suppose ~)

[rebtrovert-girl]

Celebratory Note: Drunken Honesty

As this story has come to an end, I feel like talking about it a little more since this is my first mid-length fic, made with adapting the story into a modern one, and tbh the first ever long story I manage to finish (for real, I've been writing for as long as I can remember and I have soooooo many drafts, not just about LawBin but other real manuscript but I never manage to finish anything) so this one deserved to be celebrate and talked about by me :D Or, really, I just wanna babbling it out even without any excuse.

Honestly I used to dislike a modernized fanfic of something that was originally set in their own universe. When I first thought of this idea I kinda thought to myself: what the hell???? Very naive if you ask me. Look where I land now, I love writing this so freaking much!

I didn't plan to name each chapter with anything or even idioms at first. It was done because I've been listening to Billie Eilish- Birds of a Feather a lot when I wrote the first chapter and I started to envision the ending with that song. I just knew I needed to name the last chapter with it, or at least I have to kinda insert the song in the last scene. I ended up naming every chapter with idioms just so I can use Birds of a Feathers in the last one. But that somehow helps me a lot in putting the plot point and what I want to have in every chapter neatly. Like in chapter 1: Cat Out of The Bag focus on Robin spilling her secret, and in chapter 2: Beat Around the Bush was used literally in their first meet and figuratively to describe Law's reaction for her confession which is trying to hide from it.

The making of Last Chapter: Birds of a Feather is really the hardest not just because I was in the middle of rushing my assignment that I need to redo, but I also rewrite it three times from the beginning LOL. The thing with me is, when I feel very stuck on some part I just know that something isnt right from the beginning so I will definitely rewrite it :D. I got very stuck on the first two versions and I finally let it be for a few days before I start again. Although the reunion scene was envisioned since the first time I wrote this and as I listen to the song, the build up to that scene was never determined and thats my real headache. I still have doubt about how it turn out even as I post it, but what matters to me was I did manage to finish it the way I want it.

As a non-English speaker, naming each chapter with idioms is a huge deal and has become one of the most fun parts for me. It's huge because I need to find the one that fits the most to describe what happened in the chapter, thus I get to read a lot of idioms and I learn a lot along the way. Definitely a fun excuse to learn more English!

I'm not really a Sannami shipper but I ended up inserting them in addition to Saboala because I want both Robin and Law to have a reflection of how a friends to lovers relationship could be. That's also why I randomly put Law and Sabo together as roommates even though they have almost zero interaction in the canon world. I know in fanfic, writers have the freedom to write characters however they want to, but I don't actually like steering too far from canon. Chapter 3: Greener Grass is the second title I found and I knew all along I want to have these two other ships mentioned in here.

Aside from LawBin, my second ship in OP is indeed Saboala and I've been wanting and trying to write about them for some time. I had drafts of their stories in my file to which I was never able to finish. Their little inclusion in this story is an excuse and open door for me if maaayyyybbbbeeeee I wanna attempt to tackle a sequel/spin-off of this that focused on their story one day (who knows?????)

The story was originally planned to be done in 6 chapters. I had to improvise a bit when I wrote Chapter 4: Skeletons in The Closet that was never part of my plan. In the original idea, Cora and the part where Robin realizes what she did when she was drunk are supposed to be in chapter 3. But as I said in that chapter's note, something came up (real life happened) and I wasn't able to write for a week. If I continue to follow the original plan, chapter 3 would be pushed for another week and it makes me weary. So on a whim I decided to divide the chapter into two, with chapter 3 just focusing on the couple reflecting their relationship with others, and chapter 4 with the revelation of what has been done since the first chapter. I went into a frenzy when I uploaded chapter 3 because I felt bad for not following my original plan. You guys have no idea how grateful I am for the feedback you gave and it push me forward on writing more :D

I have thought about actually writing some smut here in the middle of writing this but then I scratch the idea because; first, I've never write a smut before so I think I still need some practice(?) and second, as much as I like for the two to get hot and down to business, I've never plan on it initially. Mood wise, I feel like it'd be a little forced if I suddenly insert something too sexual. Maybe I'll do that some other time with different stories (?????)

Chapter 5- Down the Rabbit Hole, where Sabo somehow become the MVP was coincidentally came out at the same time as eps 1116 release, which was when Sabo come back to the anime for Reverie arc. It was pure coincidence but a really nice one and I want to keep remembering it!

In writing, there is this saying: Kill your darlings, which means to eliminate the overuse of favorite characters or tropes to cut the unnecessary part. In one of the writing courses I took years ago, they also explain this as a way to not include too many unimportant details, such as a character that doesn't do much to the story and doesn't need to be explained in detail. Again, my take as this piece is a fanfic, I took the liberty to have as much fun as I could with every character I could add to the story. Like Doflamingo, yeah this psychopath has no business whatsoever to be in this light hearted romcom story of Law and Robin. But I wanna have fun with him and my only reason for including him is only so I can write him say in another world he'd die in Luffy's hand (I love irony). That's also why I make them neighbours. It's unimportant but it's fun. The characters might be Oda's but the universe of this story is mine so I'll do as I like it. But in the end, I still tried to limit this thing so the story didn't snowball too big. I hate to add more chapters haha

Saul and Cora's inclusion here is my second favorite take. I just know if I want to write something that can assure Law and Robin did have a good childhood, these two characters need to exist in their story. And I just feel so proud to come up with this two quotes for them:

You are my daughter but you are always going to be a Nico- Saul I bet on your happiness- Cora

I know it's just me being overdramatic (like this whole post is) but I'm proud because it feels like the kind of thing their characters would even say in canon :D

12. I do have some ideas for bonus chapter (!!!!!) but nothing has been written yet and I dont want to make empty promises anymore so for now lets just save it as a surprise when it did happen one day

I think I've talked enough. I write this purely because I want to have this story, but I'm glad to know that there are people who can enjoy it as much. Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much <3 Honestly when I first started writing LawBin I thought it was just going to be a one time thing, but look at me now! I don't know how long I will be able to write them and have fun with everyone before real life consumes me; but in this moment and time, I feel so grateful that I could share the same joy of having fun from what I like with people who have the same favorites. Cheers to all of us, and hopefully I can greet you with a new story soon! (Idea is always there, I do have my own draft list too, the problem is always the same: TIME)

Full chapter of Drunken Honesty by me (chilldeokjil) is now on AO3!

[ihearasound]

being a closeted non binary with next to no queer irl friends sucks balls a lot of the time because my only contact to queer themes is online instead. the only reason im not out irl is because non binary is still such a... niche... identity, no person will take me seriously if i tell them. so i just remain closeted and let stupid comments about my agab roll over me.

part of the reason is that the medical system just doesnt give a shit. its either transition to male or female, but if you want to just transition but to nothing in particular, it wont be approved. if you change your name to something ambiguous it wont be approved. you have to choose a clearly male or female read name. and thus non binary ppl are forever excluded

for the longest time i denied it, but i would like to try out hrt. i would like to see what parts of medical transition suits me and what not. but i know the system has no space for me, because all the trials and tribulations.... are made for binary trans ppl exclusively. i want to try t but im scared of some of the effects and i have no medical professional to talk to. because explaining that i want to try t but not be a man is outside their paygrade, or rather, outside the medical system. so im forced to either pray and hope and try, or just remain in the closet. and its so isolating and it makes me feel so lonely. all my desires and wishes make me feel like a freak because i only want to go half the way.

online discourse is so exhausting to see but its the only queer outlet i have. and it too is all so tailored to binary discourse.... everything has to be an extreme, either male or female, anything not between is either a fetish or clearly a closeted option. any ideas for non binary existence are written as offensive or fetish material. or not enough.

i love stories about identities that are neither or all. i love stories about identities that love disguising and molding themselves. i love stories about confusion and happiness in the ambigious. im happy being in the ambiguity.

my heart breaks realizing that people will never see me in the ambiguity i exist in. i know what words they use to refer to me, and often they slip. even those close to me. and it makes me realize that it doesnt matter whether im out of the closet or not. in the end it will all amount to the same: im either or; but im never neither. and because being neither is such a niche existence, people will seldom contemplate it. its always either extreme and im so tired of it. i dont want to be either, but the more i struggle against it the more people will shove me into one corner.

[magewolf-the-artist]

Domestic K-9 Story Teaser

March 5th, 1975 

It was a day like any other in the shithole underground bunker known as the K-9 facility. Which was to say it was dull, dreary, painful, miserable, and just about any other negative adjective you could think of.

Today has, thus far, proven to be duller than dishwater for one Susan Woodings. In search of something to occupy her time, she found herself wandering into the animatronic storage room where they all slept and into the tool closet in the back. Which then led to where she was now, reorganizing the entire damn thing, top to bottom.

Now, it wasn’t like the closet had been perfectly neat and orderly when she found it; The technicians always left such a mess behind, which on one hand grated on her nerves and made her wonder what they’re teaching anymore, but on the other, it did provide her with something to do, so she couldn’t complain too much.

She had just started on yet another drawer full of out of place tools and discarded wrappers when she heard it.

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

The sound of hard metal and plastic slamming into solid concrete reverberated off walls and echoed down the winding halls of the facility, right into Susan’s ears. Her (?) hand clenched tightly around the handful of wrenches she was holding, causing them to bend slightly. Her (?) lower left eyelid twitched as she tried to fight off the growing irritation.

She forced herself away from those thoughts and instead focused entirely on her work. Refocusing her attention back on her work, she began to group together all the wrenches, screwdrivers, and pliers into separate groups, organized by size. Once that was done, she carefully placed them back into the drawer, taking extra care that the handles were perfectly lined up.

She hadn’t been nearly this much of a neat freak in life, but now it served well enough as a distraction from-

BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

Susan didn’t realize how hard her (?) hand was clutching onto the dusty wood until she heard a sharp crack and felt it splinter in her grip. It didn’t hurt of course, it could barely even scratch the vivid purple plastic, but it brought her back to herself.

Thankfully the damage was on the front, not on the sides, so it’d still be able to fit back into the dresser.

‘Just ignore him.’ She told herself as she bent down and slid the drawer back in, ‘He’ll tire himself out eventually. It’s not worth the effort. Just ignore him.’

BANG!

‘Just ignore him…’

BANG!

‘Just ignore him…’

BANG!

‘Just-’

BANG-CRRK!

Susan clenched the animatronic’s jaw so hard that she was surprised it didn’t break. She let out a primal cry of anger and with all her might chucked the unwieldy bench vise she was holding at the far wall. Its sharp thud barely even registered to her, not over that godforsaken noise and the red quickly clouding her vision.

“GOD FUCKING DAMNIT, CHARLES!”

...

[january-summers]

Well, it's official, Agent Washington is my new hyper-fixation. How do I know for sure?

Because I just spent half an hour staring into space and running a WashingMaine AU in my head.

it was both hilarious (to me), and very messed up.

Spartan!Maine, ODST!Wash, no PFL, Wash still gets his brain damage, post war retirement (they served together for a few months then parted ways and Wash got brain wrecked just before the war ended) they both get really nice retirement packages and coincidentally for plot reasons end up retiring to the same town on the same planet.

Maine spots Wash and recognises him right away but gets a case of the shy, so instead of communicating like a person, he stalks Wash instead. Wash... takes a while to notice because he has the forgetfuls and when Maine breaks in to touch Wash's stuff, just assumes he forgot moving things.

Then Maine decides to kidnap Wash, which doesn't go as well as Maine was hoping and he has to leave him tied up in the root cellar of his very nice hobby farm farmhouse.

Which Wash promptly escapes, but much like when you leave one room and enter another and forget why you were doing that, Wash's brain damage decides the whole kidnapping thing is irrelevant news, and so Wash is standing in the entry hallway of a strange house when Maine returns from his very urgent errands.

Wash freaks out because he thinks he broke into someone's house, Maine accidentally convinces Wash they're housemates (Wash is in the process of moving in) and Wash just forgot... because he has a spare room with a closet full of Wash's stolen clothes.

And thus begins their domestic farm life, where in the most exciting thing that happens is Maine getting scarily determined to win best cake at the local farmer's market competition, and Wash convincing him they need a cat, and then the cat having kittens.

(Wash doesn't recognise Maine at first because he never saw him without his spartan armour, so it takes a while to click, and by the time it does, he assumes he already knew that but forgot.)

And then a year later while they're quietly reading Wash suddenly gets up without a word, grabs a flashlight, heads down to the root cellar and finds a small blood stain left behind from his kidnapping.

"Maine, buddy, I'm not mad, but I need you to tell me the truth: did you stalk and kidnap me, or is that a crazy dream I had?" *Guilty silence* "Okay, not mad, but probably don't do that again, okay big guy?" *nods, chastened* "Cool, hey is it lunchtime yet, I'm hungry."

and they move on with their lives not addressing the kidnapping thing because they are fail-people who deserve a soft epilogue, dammit.

-

There was a bonus story-line in the background, where Carolina had worked with Wash and was keeping a part-time long-distance eye on him because his brain damage, and noticed he'd been kidnapped and lead a task force to find him, only to find him living in domestic bliss and her determination to see justice done to the monster who'd kidnapped her teammate crumbling in the face of Wash showing off his new kittens and their prize winning pumpkin.

[maniacwatchestheworld]

Just saying. At this point, they really ought to just confirm Batman as being interested in men, because not once since the 1930's has anyone been convinced that Bruce Wayne is straight. They made the Comics Code Authority to nerf his sheer gay potency, they've tried to create various female love interests for him over the years, but none of them have managed to stick thus far, and in fact one of them turned out to be a lesbian (and his cousin. I'm talking about Batwoman here), everyone was convinced that Adam West's Batman was gay in the 60's, and ever since then, DC and everyone else who works on Batman has been trying SO hard to convince EVERYONE that Batman is straight by making him partake in all of the worst parts of toxic masculinity. But here's the thing. The more you have to try to convince everyone that you're straight, the less likely it is that you're actually straight... >.>

So just embrace it, man! Let Batman be interested in men! He's just been buried so deep in the closet this whole time that he's been desperately trying convince everyone that he's straight! There's actually a really good story there!

Also like... Has anyone ever thought that Superman was gay? Have people questioned Clark's sexuality nearly as much as they have for Bruce? There has to be some reason that people just KEEP questioning Bruce's sexuality over the years!

Also just saying... It would be one hell of a power move over Marvel if you just let Bruce be interested in men, DC... >.> Marvel over there being owned by Disney would NEVER make one of their biggest money makers gay! Disney revealing their 8th 'first gay character' would never dare to do something like give Spiderman a boyfriend! Want to earn some REAL points with the LGBT community!? Make Bruce gay (or bi) and don't apologize for it! You could make a whole thing out of it. A one-shot or miniseries about Bruce coming out of the closet. Sell rainbow batsuit merchandise for pride. You bet your ass if they sold something like that, I'd buy it. And a whole lot of other people would too! Stupid reactionaries would probably buy that stuff just to burn it, but you know what? Let them! Makes the rainbow pride stuff all the more valuable! So come on, DC! Do it! I freaking dare you! It would be a hella cash money and good move!

[evilhasnever]

who do you think is the initiator when it comes to intimate moments in the context of xiyao/3zun? I'm not a big fan of the 'all lans are only pretending to be pure and reserved, and are quite perverted on the inside' trope, but it seems to be the case for at least one lan. and lxc appears to be the most eager one to pursue reconciliation between his sworn brothers, which may indicate him taking the lead in other aspects

Hey anon! first, allow me a disclaimer: I enjoy platonic 3zun content, but I don’t ship it in any romantic/sexual way, so I’ve got nothing for you there. (In fact, I get a bit peeved when my gen 3zun art is tagged with shippy comments… but it is what it is. This is unrelated to your ask, sorry!)

Anyway, let me talk about xiyao, since that is my jam! I think saying Xichen’s support of the sworn brotherhood somehow informs his tendencies in the bedroom… is a bit of a leap. I’m with you on the “not all Lans have to be closet freaks”, but I definitely think they’re all repressed. I remember when in an interview Liu Haikuan said (paraphrased): “LXC is just as passionate as Wangji, but had to repress it even more because he was the sect heir”… ain’t that the truth! Poor Xichen. I don’t think his own inner freak would manifest in the exact same ways as LWJ though. If he is a freak, he’d be suave about it. ;) 

Honestly, I’m a fan of subby service top LXC, so I like to think he’d be waiting for JGY to ask something of him rather than taking unwanted initiative, you know? (Just imagine him vibrating while waiting for A-Yao to give him A SIGN. Oh, A-Yao, breach that divide because LXC wouldn’t dare to presume…! He will take the lead if A-yao wishes him to!)

BUT! JGY is also repressed for entirely different reasons (shame, trauma, etc.) so it’d be hard for him to want to initiate things, and thus xiyao were probably sexually frustrated for years. The UST is out of control. That’s why their gazing scenes should come with an adult warning.

[asherlockstudy]

So what are your thoughts on all the backpedaling RandL but mostly Link has done over the last couple of months? It felt like for a while there both of them were making so many sneaky allusions to being queer in someway, but recently (I’d say post-Sextember) it seems like they’ve kind of retracted/avoided some of that. It really felt like Link was on the brink of something before the whole butch/twink situation freaked him out.

I don’t think there’s been a lot of backpedaling per se, given that the last scripted video of the year was also one of the boldest.

The references in their other works have been indeed kind of toned down however, which might not have to do exactly with the process they have undertaken but rather with their current psychological state.

The whole butch / twink situation hit at an odd time when Link had cut on his antidepressant pills and perhaps it hit him twice as hard. Link has been called many things throughout the years (Velma, gay, fruity, Rachel Maddow, the Boy from the Businessman and the Boy scenario etc) and he has always been gracious about it, even though most of these bear some implications about his sexuality. The fact that the butch / twink was what eventually made him lose his cool could have been due to the combination of the following reasons:

He was in a phase of going cold-turkey with his prescription pills, while also supporting Christy through a hard time for her family.

It doesn’t matter that the commentator is open and accepting regarding sexualities, their phrasing about Link was demeaning. “I thought I was seeing a beautiful butch lesbian but it turns out it’s that twink from Good Mythical Morning”. They were clearly making jokes about an unnamed Link’s appearance, commenting on how he looks both like a lesbian and a twink at the same time.

It unfortunately happened based on a photo Link was very proud of. It was taken and thus approved by Rhett, it was published and thus approved by Christy and it was meaningful to him because his tattoo is dedicated to Christy and his family. So to have the comment be about butch and twink, it felt like a trivialisation of this moment for him. Don’t forget that he was also hurt in GME when some ass also said his tattoo was badly made (which is a plain untrue statement btw). This tattoo means a lot to him and he is proud of it and yet it has been the cause of some jabs or jokes at his expense.

Link might not be straight and might indeed plan to come out of the closet one day but we should remember he is a man of a different generation ; the excessive, superficial, almost compulsive use of labels that is trending nowadays might not express him correctly and he might not want it for himself. Even if he is gay or attracted to men anyway, it does not mean he views himself as a twink necessarily - I mean, he is not a twink- he is a mature middle aged man with what seems like clear preference towards establishing very committed relationships founded on very strong bonds, and being “that twink from a show” might not be what ultimately he wants to be linked to once he is out. The ease with which such descriptions are effortlessly used by others does not align to the potential inner hardship, torment and struggles he went through for decades to eventually be who he is, as he himself says. (Still, if you noticed, he reacted more poorly to being called a butch lesbian than a twink.)

I expect them to cut on the references a bit because the unresponsiveness of the audience stopped them right in their tracks. The scripted videos will come back in the likes of a series well into the year and me thinks close to summer, when - coincidentally??? - they have scheduled the live shows. Until then, perhaps there won’t be as many hints or they will once again increase gradually.