#btw for the thing with “I pull women!” “I pull men!” I just guessed since I saw the template and I really wanted to use it lol

[kade-is-here]

Kepler videos, part two!(Revised :3)

Warning for cursing!

All art is by tiredsn0w!

(tiredsn0w, if you see this and would like for me to take this down or change anything, please let me know ^^)

[koqabear]

Lamb To The Slaughter

♫: Gods & Monsters, Lana Del Rey

"An act of kindness goes a long way, your parents told you once; their words stuck with you all your life, your pure heart never failing to follow their philosophy— though, it seems your naive self was left unaware of just how far an act of kindness can go."

wolf hybrid!beomgyu x lamb hybrid!fem!reader x herding dog hybrid!soobin

Genre: smut, hybrid au, angst, porn with the world's smallest amount of plot

Word count: 15.8k

Warnings: barely edited oops, heavy predator/prey themes, injuries/blood, use of scents, scent glands and scenting, mentions of kidnapping and murder, psychological abuse i guess… this fic doesn’t let you forget that they’re hybrids btw, (showcases animal-like behaviors and habits), soogyu are stronger than the mc, obsessiveness, manipulation

Smut Warnings: DUBCON. threesome, mean dom!gyu, soft dom!soobin, sub!mc,inexperienced!mc, pet names (pretty, doll, good girl, etc.) manhandling, marking, subspace, possessiveness, choking kinda, dry humping, praise, praise kink, humiliation, dacryphilia, fingering, exhibitionism/voyeurism, degrading, orgasm control, dumbification, finger sucking, cum eating(?), spanking, begging, mind breaking, unprotected sex, jerking off ig, jealousy, hair pulling, rough sex, corruption kink maybe, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, double vaginal penetration… brief mentions of breeding, creampies, knotting, claiming, mc blacks out. (lmk if i should add anything.)

Notes: look at these stupidly long paragraphs of warnings oh im gonna kms. this story almost had me plucking my hairs out one by one, i’ve never been so stressed out by a pwp before. it was originally an ot5 au and was supposed to come out during october but… yk. shit happens. (i saw a post that changed the entire trajectory of this fic)

[This story contains dark content. Please read the warnings carefully; I am not responsible for the content you choose to consume.]

The forest at the edge of the village is something that should’ve been closed off long ago— but there’s no resources, no men to work on the border, no money— so the townspeople have resorted to old myths and tales to ward off wandering children and defenseless women instead.

There’s a killer in the forest— fairies will lead you down the wrong path and trap you in the woods forever; there’s a hidden pond so deep that if you fall in, you’ll sink forever. Typical tales that are told around the bonfire, where people cower and whisper from the thrill of the stories. Yet with each varied warning, one thing stays the same.  

There are wolves in the forest.

Large and strong and invincible, with a terrifying bloodlust and noses so keen they could spot you the moment you cross the barrier; tearing you to shreds, eating you alive and forcing you to feel the pain all throughout it. The wolves are always hungry, insatiable, and lurking about for its next prey— anyone who would enter the woods willingly would be deemed suicidal. 

You’ve never been one to believe such tales; how could you, when you’ve grown alongside the forest?

There are wolves in the forest, that much you’re sure of— but the fantastical tales and myths are nothing but a farce, crafted from the fear of the unknown and the dark, entangled landscape that lies past the backyard of your small cottage; belonging to your deceased parents, now left to fend on your own and care for the gardens and lush plants your mother had carefully cultivated since you were a child. 

She taught you everything you needed to know about the forest; which paths to take, which areas led to steep cliffs or poison ivy, and where to find herbs and plants that would aid to the medicinal business your family ran— you were fascinated by the craft, even as a young child, learning with eager eyes and an even more eager mind as you stored all the information in your small, worn down journal; the pink material of the cover faded and torn at the corners, filled to the brim yet still useful to you as you took it with you on every trip.  

Tonight, you pull on a warm coat dress; it’s thick and durable, a cute piece gifted on your birthday by the baker’s son, the border collie family always making sure to look after you since the day you were left on your own. The shawl sewed into the coat hangs over your shoulders like a small cape, adding in extra warmth as you look out the window and onto the cold scenery; the leaves have begun to abandon the trees, and if you hadn’t memorized the forest layout like the back of your hand, the covered paths might’ve concerned you— but you’re confident as always, grabbing your wicker basket and perching it on the crook of your elbow, glancing down to make sure your journal is already inside— and with one last mental check to make sure you have everything you need, you slip on your boots and make your way outside. 

“Soobin,” you say in surprise, swinging the door open, getting scared at the sight of someone already waiting for you outside— the said man only smiles at the sound of his name, laughing fondly at the way you press a gentle hand against your startled heart; his ears perk up at the sight of you and his black hair is slightly disheveled, though you guess it’s probably from his habit of running a hand through it whenever he’s restless— he holds a basket of his own, and your eyes fall onto it with a curiosity you don’t bother to hide.

“Hello pretty,” he smiles softly, the nickname never failing to make a heat flush up the back of your neck— you really hope he doesn’t notice your flushed expression, his eyes narrowing with fondness as he brings his basket up, opening it to show you the contents, “I made an extra batch of bread, and I thought you’d like some. Business will get busy for us both soon, and I’d hate for you to get hungry because you don’t have time to eat.”

He’s sweet and caring, and it never fails to leave your knees weak— he looks at you with nothing short of affection, raising a brow in curiosity and glancing down at your already occupied arm— his brows furrow, biting his lip in thought as he finally pieces everything together. 

“Are you going to the woods?” he asks softly, reaching past you and into the doorway, placing the basket of bread on the table next to the door— his hands are immediately coming up to your shoulders, smoothing out the soft material of the coat with narrowed eyes— and they’re filled with worry again, ears angling down and tail swaying slowly from side to side, searching your face that can’t seem to lie to him, “It’s dangerous to go at this hour, you shouldn’t.”

“It’ll only be dangerous if you continue to stall me,” you tease, shrugging his hands off and wrapping your own around his elbow, tugging him until you’re both stepping out of your home; he allows you to, and you’re locking it up with ease, even as he continues to tell you not to, to go another day, another time— you huff, shaking your head and frowning at the way he begins to offer to come with you; his instincts must be kicking in again, eyes filled with a calculated look he only sports when looking out for your safety— and with you being nothing but a fragile little lamb in his eyes, this look was something you’ve become very familiar with. 

“No, you mustn’t come with— it’s dangerous, and I’m the only one who knows my way around the woods,” you scold him, and even though he stares at you with that intimidating, stern look, murmuring about something about his keen senses, you stand your ground, “I’m too one-track-minded to guide someone else through these woods— I’d hate for you to get hurt because of me.”

He sighs— and you know you’ve gotten him good by the way he remains silent, stalling his leave as he tries continuing to reason with you— but you keep refusing in return, cooing softly that you’ll be okay, that you’ll be quick. 

“I’ll wait for you,” he finally says, refusing to back down even as you express your worry; after a moment of bickering, you finally give in. Your eyes widen in surprise as he gently pulls you in for a hug, engulfed entirely in his embrace as he rests his chin on your shoulder, inhaling your scent with a content sigh— warm, comforting and pure, like jasmine with the hint of a pure, soft vanilla, his nose subconsciously poking at your gland in search for more— and you shiver at the feeling, engulfed in his calming scent, a sage and rich pine, allowing yourself to melt in his arms and hold you tighter, ignoring the way your heart begins to race the longer your remain there. 

“Come back to me safe.”

Soobin is just as solemn and loyal as he was the day he declared that he would always protect you— and it makes your heart race a bit faster, a dopey smile stuck on your face as you wave him goodbye— you sigh pathetically the moment you’re finally in the woods.

The leaves crunch under your feet and birds chirp in the distance; it’s comforting to you, humming softly to yourself as you walk the paths you need to take without much of a thought, gathering herbs and plants as you slowly check them off your list; everything goes as smoothly as it always does, your mind in awe as you witness the sun beginning to set. 

You should get going soon; it was never ideal to be in the woods after dark, no matter how familiar you were with the landscape. The thought makes your steps quicken and your eyes sweep over the land in acute concentration, looking for the last plant on your list— you’re freezing entirely when you hear a shift against the leaves. 

You’re still; was it a false alarm, or a harmless rabbit passing by? You’re not entirely sure, wicker basket heavy in your hand as the other presses firmly against your heart; trying to settle your heart rate, breathing deeply as you look for any signs of movement, any signs of life around you. 

Just when you think the coast is clear, you hear it again; rustling against the leaves, harsh and erratic as something else greets your ears— sharp pants and sounds of struggle, a pained yelp resounding into the vast space and sending you into action before you can think twice. 

You round the thick oak tree ahead of you, searching for the source of the sound— and stumble back in surprise, an involuntary gasp escaping you as sharp eyes and equally sharp teeth point your way— a man lays before you, injured and weak.

Except, he’s not just a man; that much is made clear to you the moment your eyes sweep over his frame once more, taking in the ears that press flat on his head and his fangs that remain bared at you, the injured man—wolf hybrid— growling lowly at you and shuffling back to curl against the thick tree that once covered him; your hands shake as you hold onto your basket a little tighter, wide eyes sweeping over his figure and inevitably landing on the source of all this commotion; a twisted ankle, rendering the man before you immobile. 

You must run— you must, and it’s all your instincts seem to yell at you, your muscles becoming rigid with tension, white ears pressing flat against the top of your head and fluffy tail quivering with fear— but you have yet to, something about the look in the wolf’s eyes making you ignore your instincts, just for a second; behind the dangerous fangs that glint beneath the remaining light and his eyes that are narrowed threateningly, you can still see the pain he’s found himself in.

Something inside you clicks— your weak heart twists and your hands grip your basket a bit tighter, a voice in your mind telling you that you can’t just leave him like this; you can do something to help. Next thing you know, you’re taking cautious, slow steps toward him, hands held out to show that you’re nothing close to a threat— though you’re sure that the smell of fear that rolls off you in waves is enough of an indicator— and your soft voice is whispering out your intentions, continuing your approach even as he bares his teeth at you in warning. 

“I want to help you,” you say softly, finally at his feet as you place your basket gently next to him; and he growls at you once more, though you don’t find yourself to be afraid— if he were dangerous, he would’ve attacked long ago. It’s the only thought that repeats itself in your mind like a prayer, pretending as though your hands don’t tremble as you reach into your basket, as you grab the herbs you were just stocking up on and the bandages you carry for emergencies. 

He lets out a particularly harsh growl that makes you jump; it makes you hesitate to touch his skin, bruised and broken and bloody, eyes jumping to meet his— and though the action was meant to be confident, nothing can hide the fear that taints your eyes, the way your frame shrinks slightly when you’ve found that he has no issues holding eye contact— and after a standstill moment, you finally continue, ripping a piece of the bandage and attempting to clean the wound as best as you can. 

You’re a bit clumsy at first; unable to look away from the man, his strikingly dark red hair that's matted to his head from a thin layer of sweat, dirtied clothes and face that’s twisted in a mean glare— but eventually, it softens, the deep heaving of his chest calming as he watches the way you tend to him with deft hands, not seeming to care if he’s soiling your pretty coat as you tug him closer to you. 

The bandages are tight on his ankle and you’ve placed herbs within to help soothe the swelling— all tricks you’ve learned from your mother, from the times when you would run about carelessly and twist your ankle in some hidden hole, only calming your cries to see her work her magic on you.

Reassuring words don’t do much in the grand scheme of things, but you still whisper them sweetly to the injured man before you, dry bandage cleaning along the rest of his calf as you tell him to rest, to try and not overexert himself. And though you don’t know if he can understand you, though you’re unsure of where he came from— because as far as you know, wolves have been banished from your village for decades— you still find yourself caring for him. It’s something he can pick up on in your eyes, gentle and reflecting the last of the sun’s golden rays that leak through the woods. 

It’s quiet; it’s peaceful. Warm fingers lingering on his skin much longer than you intended, a curiosity leaking through your wide eyes as you take in his figure, the tall dark ears that stand on his head, the tail that lays on his side, thumping rhythmically— and you think you’ve finally found the courage to ask who are you? Lips parting to speak, you’re cut off by the sound of rustling, a new overwhelming scent overtaking your senses; something is approaching. 

The man before you doesn’t seem to be worried; it’s you that’s whipping around to the source of the sound, shrinking pathetically once you spot something emerging from the dark, thick mass of trees behind you; eyes, multiple pairs, glowing and angry as they stare at you like you’re their next meal— you’re not sure how many pairs there might be, but you’re stumbling to your feet quickly, eyes widening as you realize that the sun has set long, long ago.

You almost slip on the leaves beneath you; one last glance at the man behind you shows that his hands were out as though to catch you, expression twisted with what you’re surprised to see is… concern. But as a rough growling begins to surround the two of you, a sharp pang of fear courses through your body, the gravity of your situation finally sinking in as your eyes sweep around the area in one last, terrified glance.

They’re targeting you.

Before you can think twice, you’re turning on your heel and running— though nothing follows behind, you still let adrenaline take its course, shallow breaths and teary eyes guiding you back to your home; you don’t realize how crazed you must’ve looked until you’re finally reaching your front door, a worried Soobin immediately interrupting your flee and scooping you into his arms, whirling around to shield you away from the forest.

“Are you alright? Are you hurt? Dear, what happened?” he’s breathing out the concerned questions against the crown of your head, arms wrapped tightly around your middle and the only thing keeping you up as your knees buckle with fear; his gaze sweeps down to the state of your cute coat, the once pristine and pink material now dirty and bloodied; his hands hold onto it with a newfound panic, lifting the coat and attempting to find the source— it isn’t until you’ve let out a few pathetic sniffles that you can finally reassure him the blood is not yours.

“Is everything okay? Did something happen to you? Oh, I should’ve—” Soobin has pulled away to cup your face in his hands, wiping away the tears that escape your sweet eyes like a fountain; thumbs caressing your tear-streaked skin lovingly, brows knitted together as his concern pours off him in waves— and you shake your head softly, attempting to dissuade the guilt he must’ve felt for leaving you on your own. 

“It’s fine, I’m not hurt,” you croak out, grabbing onto his waist for support as you finally regain the strength in your legs, “I just— had some encounters with a wolf— but I’m safe, they didn’t hurt me, I’m just a bit shaken, is all.”

“A wolf?” Soobin asks, much more concerned by your words as he pulls away to inspect you once more; his hands run gingerly over your shoulders, running along them until they’ve stopped at your neck, eyes honing in on the spot for a moment before he sighs in relief. His gaze is hardening once more, cupping your face and looking at your sternly as he speaks. “Where were they? Did they follow you? Did you interact with them?”

“No, no— it’s alright, I’m alright, I promise,” you breathe out, hoping that Soobin doesn’t notice the way you shrink under his gaze, the way your body warms up at his touch— but he’s much too concerned about your safety to pick up on it, dismissing every cue of your body as nothing but fear, instincts heightened as he looks behind you and back at the forest you just came from. He watches the woods carefully, eyes narrowed and ears perked in concentration— but nothing happens, and he’s left to reluctantly believe your words, even if he wants nothing more than to run into the woods himself and make sure there’s no threat to you. 

After a moment of observing the forest, Soobin is turning back to you, and his gaze immediately softens at the sight. The brave front you put up isn’t fooling him, and it’s quite obvious that you’re still shaken from your encounter, delicate ears still pressed close to your head, eyes wide and scent muddled with distress— like rotten flowers, earthy and pungent— and with all the adrenaline ebbing away from your system, you’ve found that your legs have become pure jelly once more; Soobin is quick to catch on to the way you tremble and hold on to him tightly. 

“Oh, my doll,” Soobin sighs softly, fishing for your keys in your coat pockets and unlocking the door for you, leading you inside with a careful hand— as though you were made of porcelain, still shaken and anxious as he leads you to sit down, “it’s alright, you’re safe now— I’ll keep you safe.”

Soobin insists on taking care of you long after you tell him you feel better; he’s keen to protect you through and through, keeping his distance yet still doting on you as he makes you tea, helps you out of your coat, and even offers to wash it for you— the sight replaces the heavy fear in your stomach with butterflies. 

When he bids you goodbye, his eyes are soft, his movements slightly reluctant— but he must, it’s unlawful for him to stay the night with you; an unclaimed little prey like you, spending the night with Soobin, even if he was nothing short of perfect and kind, was enough to have the town gossiping like a storm. The very thought has your cheeks hot and your tongue stumbling on words, telling Soobin to get home safe with a shy, sweet voice— and he brushes his thumb against your cheekbones, smiling fondly before he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead; he lingers there, and you think you might just melt against him before he finally bids you goodbye. 

Your heart still races long after he’s gone; you suppose all this makes up for the fact that you forgot your basket in the woods, mourning the fact that you’ll have to go back to get it tomorrow— but for now, you’re content with giggling softly at the memory of Soobin’s lips against your skin, completely unaware of the eyes that watch you twirl around your kitchen happily.

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅���≫  

When you wake up, you find something peculiar at your doorstep; your wicker basket is placed before your feet, pristine as it was when you first took it out. 

Your brows furrow, looking around the area and wondering how it got here— your mind is going back to the wolf you tended to, eyes slowly sweeping over the dense forest, ears twitching in attention, listening for even the slightest rustle of leaves, wondering if he’s still lingering— but the world around you is still, and it seems to be only you here. You bend down to pick the basket up carefully. 

Everything is intact— your herbs, your bandages, your worn down pink journal— and the closer you bring it to your face in order to inspect it, the better you’re able to catch something peculiar; a scent, your nose twitching in curiosity and your eyes narrowing. The unknown scent only grows stronger the closer you get to the handkerchief you used to line the inside, and only then are you able to get a good sense of it— light and heady, like an amber and smoky smell filling your nose, finding yourself oddly enticed by the scent. 

You’re far too wrapped up in attempting to decipher the complicated notes of this new scent to notice someone approaching; your senses have gotten so used to Soobin’s presence you no longer find yourself alert around him, only perking up at the approaching sound of leaves crunching and the familiar, sage filling your senses— tucking the basket behind your back, you send him a meek smile, cheeks heating up as you silently hope he didn’t see you curiously nosing at your basket. 

“Hey, pretty thing,” Soobin rumbles out lowly, smiling fondly at the way you practically preen at the name; you’re terrible at hiding your expression, the way your ears twitch at his words not helping your attempts to seem nonchalant before him. 

“Hi Soobin,” you smile, fingers restlessly playing with the wicker basket behind your back as you tilt your head curiously, “what’re you doing here today?”

“I needed to check on you,” he says immediately, a soft oh leaving your lips at that, “I couldn’t sleep well knowing I just… left you here on your own. I needed to make sure you were safe.”

“Soobin, it’s fine, really,” you reassure him softly, fluffy tail wiggling behind you at the fact that he confessed how worried he was about you, his dedication to keep you safe, “Nothing happened— as long as I’m in my home, I’m safe.”

Soobin wants to argue against that, you can tell. But you don’t give him a chance to, inviting him in with a tug at his arm, smiling at the way he immediately relents; you tell him about your plans for today over a cup of tea, that you have to make a few deliveries to some homes across the village— Soobin practically jumps to offer to come with. 

“You– won’t you be busy?” you ask shyly, staring down at your teacup and stirring your spoon in  a feeble way to distract yourself. 

“No, I’m not needed at the bakery today,” Soobin immediately reassures you, reaching over the table to place a delicate hand over your own— and you stiffen, a heat rushing through your body at the sudden contact; the smell of sage wafts over to you as his thumb rubs soothingly over your skin, your mind mulling over his offer as you bite at your lip in thought. 

He’s eager to hear you say yes; his tail wags slowly behind him, ears perked up and eyes honed in on your every expression— and after a moment, you finally nod meekly. 

“It’s only a house or two, but the walk is… it’s far,” you say, standing at the doorway and reaching over for your basket, placing the bottles and jars filled with homemade remedies inside carefully— but before you can continue your explanations and tuck your basket snuggly into the crook of your arm, Soobin is taking it from you, his brows knitted together as he stares down at the item in confusion. 

“I thought you lost this,” he says quietly, rotating the item in his hands, taking in its pristine condition with a frown— his ears are perking up and his tail is straightening, head whipping over to you with wide, concerned eyes. “Did you go into the woods to retrieve it?”

“No!” you say, oddly defensive as you shake your head adamantly, “It just— it was at my doorstep this morning, I think someone might have found it—”

“The wolf,” Soobin sneers, his tone much darker than it was mere moments ago— it makes your ears flatten against your head and your figure shrink, his scent turning earthy and thick and rendering you docious and pliant— his eyes are darting from the basket and back to you, only to go back to the basket in order to examine it closely; the moment Soobin brings it closer to his face, you’re able to see the very moment where that same, smoky scent enters his senses— his pupils dilate, and his nose twitches. 

The same scent as before. Soobin recognized it as the same scent that you were drenched in the moment you found him, shaken and face aghast— your coat and skin reeked of nothing but that scent, wanting nothing more than to take you inside and replace it with his own— but the most he could do in the moment was hold you close and hope that it would wash off. 

The owner of this scent must have brought you the basket back; Soobin’s head races to find meaning, to find reason, adrenaline coursing through his body that yells at him to take action; this must be a threat—you’ve been followed, they know where you live.

“It isn’t safe for you to stay there anymore,” Soobin proceeded to tell you, only confessing how he felt once you were far, far away from your home— from the woods. And you could only shake your head at that, the reassurances an automatic response in your head at this point. 

But Soobin wasn’t going to go down without a fight this time; knowing that the wolf was out there somewhere, that he knew where you lived and even went as far as to visit your home— it made Soobin tense with anger. 

“That wolf was at your doorstep without you knowing,” Soobin continued to reason, all throughout your walk back, “you don’t know who they are— what their intentions are.” 

It was only then that you decided to mull through his offer to stay, or for you to stay with his family— images of a bloodthirsty wolf at your doorstep filled your mind, and you couldn’t help but feel like your nine year old self again, sitting at a fireplace and telling each other scary stories about the forest only a few feet away from you— your young self would always be left shaken and paranoid, asking your parents if you could sleep in their bed. 

Maybe you’ve become too used to being independent; you’ve survived this long on your own— most lamb hybrids you knew couldn’t walk around at night without having a trusted predator around to protect them, just in case— yet you were so used to depending only on yourself that you seem to have forgotten how truly vulnerable your species is; Soobin made sure to remind you with a stern look and crossed arms. 

“I don’t see why you’re insisting so much, binnie— I promise nothing happens here, this place is dead,” you tell him as you make dinner for the two of you, the sun now long gone and the man still stuck to your side, leaning against the counter beside you and watching you cook dutifully— his eyes drift over to the window behind him, looking over his shoulder and at the dark, gloomy forest that obscures his view; his eyes can’t help but narrow and pick apart each shape he sees, nose keen and eager to sense any changes, any hint of that smoky smell— but he sees nothing, and he’s turning back around to catch the way you send him a slightly incredulous look. 

“I understand why you might feel this way— you’ve been on your own for longer than you can remember, after all,” Soobin says softly, taking in the way your eyes remain downcast and you shy away from his gaze. Hesitantly, he shifts to stand behind you, a gentle hand placing itself on your bicep before his head lowers to rest on your shoulder; his forehead rests against you, able to smell the restless, flowery notes of your scent— despite the strong front you put up, Soobin’s keen senses are still able to pick up on the tenseness of your body, the way you keep glancing out the window and into the forest unsurely. 

“You have to allow yourself to be helped— there’s nothing wrong with that, doll,” he coaxes softly, ears atop his head twitching at the sound of the shaky sigh you let out— the stove is turned off, and the food is done— but you don’t seem to care about that much. 

Carefully, Soobin nudges at your jaw with his head; allowing your neck to tilt slowly, to expose it to him as his nose runs along your skin delicately, until it’s pressed against your scent gland, inhaling slowly and taking in the intense mix of smells and emotions within you— and he presses his lips softly against it, a gentle kiss that turns your scent sweet and fresh like a blooming flower; your heart pounds against your chest for a second, then proceeds to relax against Soobin’s hold the moment his scent invades your senses. 

“I’m here to protect you.” 

His words stick to you for the rest of the night— as does he, his presence reassuring enough to make you forget of why he was here in the first place— enough to allow you to miss the glowing eyes that peek from the edge of the forest as you get a glass of water in the middle of the night, taking in your drowsy figure and eyes that are heavy with sleep; unaware of the pair of eyes that take you in hungrily, the tongue that runs along a sharp set of teeth, nose twitching to get another gust of your sweet, clean scent, the muddled vanilla that makes his mouth water. 

With Soobin lying in the guest bedroom, you’re almost able to forget that there are wolves in the forest. That there is one that has now set his sights on the cute little lamb that tended to him with wide eyes and an innocent heart. 

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

It’s early in the morning when you bid Soobin goodbye; your cheeks are flushed and you’re barely able to look him in the eye, despite not having done anything more than talk the whole night. He finds your shyness nothing short of endearing, placing one last affectionate kiss on top of your head before he tells you to call him if you ever need anything— to never be afraid to ask for help. You nodded to his words with a soft smile. 

Watching him leave had left a bit of an empty feeling in your heart; you couldn’t seem to help but watch him leave pathetically, standing at your doorway even after he had long gone; his scent still drifted around in your senses, the warm and sturdy scent helping you remain calm as you finally went back inside— closing the door behind you, you were pleasantly surprised to see that your home still smelled strongly of him. 

You had over ten different orders you needed to work on; you were able to busy yourself with making medicine throughout the rest of the day, boiling herbs and making remedies for colds and illnesses and burns. It was a tedious and slow process, and as you finally began to reach the end of your list, you couldn’t help but frown. 

You ran out of two different herbs needed for these next three orders; without them, you wouldn’t be able to make the medications at all. 

Glancing out the window, you gulped; it wouldn’t be another thirty minutes before the sun set, but after your encounter a few days ago— paired with Soobin’s warning and harsh reality check— you were much more hesitant to go into the woods on your own. 

You could call Soobin— ask him if he’d like to accompany you, stay put until you finally had proper protection. You mulled over the idea for a moment, your traitorous mind whisperering encouraging words in order to see him again; it’s just for protection, you told yourself, walking over to your landline phone before you began to dial his number, tangling the long cord around your fingers absentmindedly as you did; you tried to dismiss the nervous pounding of your heart, the way you bit at your lips in anticipation of hearing his voice again.

“Hello?” you’re gulping slightly at the sound— part of you wasn’t expecting him to actually answer. Clearing your throat softly, you muster up the courage to do what you’ve been hesitant to for so long. 

“Hi Soobin,” you start softly, listening to the small hum of acknowledgement from the other side, “I— I’m sorry to bother, but I just wanted to ask; I have to make another trip to the forest— it’s urgent— and I… well, I was wondering if you’d be able to accompany me. For protection.” 

The shyness and hesitance in your voice is horribly apparent; it makes you face burn and your hands grow clammy, feeling as though there’s a lump in your throat as you wait for him to respond— it feels like eternity, but in reality, it’s merely seconds—- and you’re practically slumping against the wall in relief when he gives you a soft of course I can in response.

“Wait for me inside until I get there,” he says, and you nod, letting out a sound of affirmation as well, “I’ll be quick.” 

Soobin hangs up promptly after; you’re left to scurry around your home in preparation of your trip, changing out of your sullied work clothes and into something more comfortable— inevitably, the same coat from before finds itself wrapped around your form, and as you wait by the doorway with your wicker basket in hand, you realize with a smile that the item is practically drowned in Soobin’s scent— the item is wrapped around you tighter and your nose is burrowed deeply into the soft plush-like material, your senses spinning with the warm, earthy smells that belong to the man. 

The sun is setting— but he’ll be here soon, a fact only proved by the sound of footsteps your keen ears manage to pick up on; you’re practically racing to make it to your front door, only to pause at the sound of something else— more footsteps. 

Instinct brings your body to the floor and away from all windows; your back is pressed up against your door, ear pressed tightly against the wood as you remain alert, subconsciously holding your breath in fear of getting spotted in any way— but whoever is currently surrounding your home knows you’re here, judging by the way they take careful, calculated steps closer to your door— you will your heart to remain calm, to not alert them that you currently lean on the very item separating the two of you, but the fear that courses through your veins is simply too strong. 

Your mind is racing a mile a minute; you try to calculate who it could be, why they’re here— and you’re thinking back to Soobin’s warnings the night before, eyes widening as you scold yourself for being such a naive idiot— because as you pick up of the soft sounds of sniffing and low growls, you realize that you’ve managed to lead a pack of wolves right to your home. 

It all happens too quickly; you’re running from the door at the sudden spike of scents, like a dirty smoke that approaches your door in the blink of an eye— the wood practically flies off its hinges with the way it’s broken into, a scream involuntarily leaving you as you grab the nearest thing to you as a weapon— the fire pit poker is thin and old in your hands, but that’s the last thing on your mind as you back away slowly, taking in the wolves that make their way into your home with sheer terror. 

One, two, three— it’s only three of them, but it’s enough to have your limbs trembling and your ears pressed flat against your head; tall, broad figures, disheveled in appearance and looking at you with eyes dilated, filled with nothing but a carnal hunger that makes your stomach twist into knots. 

It’s a standstill. They watch you with coy smiles and blown out eyes, watching as you press yourself against the wall, wondering if you can make it to the back exit of your home if you try enough— but they’re perceptive to even the most miniscule movement, every twitch of your muscle garnering a step closer from any one of them; you remain still, and so do they. It’s silent, save for the ragged heavings of your chest and the low grumbles that resonate from theirs— they have yet to make a move, locking eyes with the tallest and watching as his lips quirk into a smile.

You feel nauseous. They’re toying with you.

They could easily take you— kill you— in a split second; the second you try to run, they’ll be hot on your heels, outmatched three to one and left at their mercy entirely. And judging by the way they practically salivate at the smell of fear that radiates from you, you don’t think your fate with them will end well.

You gulp. They watch you, keen eyes taking in the way your throat bobs, the tears that fill your eyes— the way your legs look as though they’ll give out on you any moment now, the flimsy poker in your hands nothing but a joke as you point it at them in warning— as though it would do anything, they muse. 

One of them, with a head of ginger hair and eyes sharp as a knife, begins to approach; you tense, bringing the poker forward more, inhaling sharply and taking a step back— but that only garners a sharp growl from another, with pitch black hair and a gaze so threatening it renders you pliant; hesitantly, you meet the eyes of the man who stands before you, narrowed eyes taking you in with amusement. 

He reaches towards you— again you tense, flinching at the movement and weakly yelling at the wolf to stay back—! But it can only come out as a breathless whisper, your entire being rendered useless, instincts doing nothing but telling you that this is it; accept your fate, it tells you, weakening your muscles and sending off waves of fear so thick the room reeks of death and rot; your figure shrinks the moment he grabs your poker, ignoring your clearly empty warning as he lowers it forcefully, fighting easily against any strength you had left. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he smiles, baring his teeth that only makes your blood run cold— sharp canines, strong and in great condition to bite and chew even the toughest of meats— “We’ll take good care of you.”

A sharp growling impedes the man before you from closing in on you, from taking away what little space was left between you— the sound is loud and furious, making the three wolves before you turn immediately in search of the source; including you, the foreign sound making your knees buckle and the poker fall from your hands as you paralyze with fear. 

Standing in the doorway is a figure you remember quite well— the sight of him makes your eyes widen and you heart flicker a dim light of hope, watching the way he sends the three wolves before you a pointed glare, enough to make the two nearest to him avert their eyes the moment his gaze lands on them. 

“Beomgyu,” the wolf near you sneers, “what the hell are you doing?”

He doesn’t bother answering the question; his eyes land on you, on your figure that visibly trembles with fear, nostrils flaring at the scent that radiates from you and fogs the room— and he growls. 

“Get out.” 

It’s a simple command given by the man— Beomgyu—  to the others, eyes filled with an unbridled rage that makes the others flinch; they’re confused, glancing to where you remain frozen before they’re turning back at the man, as though waiting for him to back down on his words— instead, he bares his teeth, jaw clenched and eyes narrowed with rage, and repeats himself. 

“I said, get. Out.”

Silence; you can hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears as you watch the two wolves glance at the man with the bright head of ginger hair— as though looking to him for their next move. The two remain in a standstill, refusing to look away from the other, as though silently communicating. And after what feels like eternity, the wolf near you scoffs, lips upturned in annoyance as he finally looks away— he turns back to you, eyes scanning your shaken figure, and he smiles the moment your eyes meet.

“Don’t expect any mercy from him.”

You’re sure you might be on the verge of fainting as you watch them all exit, one by one; tails practically tucked between their legs, only wolf to make a fuss being the orange-haired one from before; you watch the two of them bare their teeth and make comments you can’t quite pick up on, pressing yourself firmly against the wall and jumping the moment they snap warningly at each other— a threat to bite, the sight of their sharp fangs enough to have you retreating slowly to the exit of your backyard. 

The second his back is turned from you, watching the wolves retreat to the forest, is the second you make an attempt to escape— hurried steps leading you to the kitchen, walking backwards in order to keep an eye on him— your shaking hands remain pressed against the wall in an attempt to keep yourself upright, keen eyesight taking in any small movement from him, body alight with adrenaline as you wait for the moment you can book it. 

His ears, a dark auburn just like his hair, twitch; his head snaps over to where you stand, dilated eyes meeting yours in milliseconds. 

You’re turning around to make a run for it— the floorboards creak behind you from the very sound of Beomgyu running after you, a yelp leaving you involuntarily; your feet are falling harshly on the cool tile of your kitchen, but before you can so much as outstretch your hand and reach for the doorknob of the back exit, strong hands are wrapping around your middle and spinning you around, away from your last taste of freedom. 

“Please!” you cry out aimlessly, a pained groan falling from your lips as your back collides with the wood of your counter; you’re pinned into the very corner, tears pricking at your eyes and weak hands pressing against the strong chest of the wolf before you— your eyes remain glued to the floor, soft tail trembling with abandon and ears willing hopelessly to hide your face. 

“You’re running? After I just saved you?” is all you get in response, his voice gruff and genuine as he remains unfazed at the weak pushes against his chest; his arms cage you in, body impossibly close to yours as he looms over you, watching the way you cower and make yourself shrink with wide, interested eyes. “Why do you run from me, my flower?” 

The pet name makes your stomach lurch; a soft sob escapes you, eyes closing in defeat as your mind makes peace with your demise— your shoulders shake with every attempt of yours to breathe properly, every inhale only flooding your senses and clogging your mind with the scent of the wolf above you, like a thick smoke that burns your lungs and leaves your thoughts impaired.

Beomgyu is all but salivating at the sight of you; your soft, fragile body, the tremble of your limbs, your pure and fluffy ears that are pressed flat atop your head, hands subconsciously gripping onto his shirt in a feeble attempt to keep yourself upright— your heartbeat overwhelms him, quick and panicked just like your scent; it makes his brows pinch together and a confused pout form on his lips, the familiar, delicate flower no longer radiating from your figure.

“Are you scared of me?” he murmurs, ears twitching in curiosity as you remain silent; he leans down, willing to get close even after you continue to shrink away in response, curling into yourself and keeping your chin tucked in dutifully; his hand flies to your waist in attempts to prevent you from shifting away any further, rough claws digging in through your dress and making you jolt in surprise— a shaky breath leaves your lips, the wolf that continues to inch closer to you, cocking his head in fascination. His eyes all but burn through your skin. 

“Don’t be afraid,” he whispers, lips brushing against your temple as he speaks; you remain frozen, stiff, feeling the way he continues to wander down, nosing at you softly in search for a sign of that sweet, intoxicating smell you once gave off. 

“You’re safe with me— remember?”

Your voice remains stuck inside you— all you can muster is another shaky breath as you feel his lips brush against your jaw, wandering along until he’s at your ear— then he trails down, forcing your head to tilt as his nose runs a soft line along the column; a weak whimper falls from your parted lips the moment he presses down against your pulse point, feeling him inhale slowly before he presses a soft kiss against your sensitive neck— like an automatic reaction, warmth blooms from the spot, spreading through your body, your heart telling you to calm down— but you refuse, and though Beomgyu is able to smell the sweet vanilla and the flowers that blooms from his action, it all dies into one muddled mess that leaves him to huff frustratedly. 

His hands have begun to wander— large and warm, sharp claws scratching at your garments and running up your sides before he hugs you tight, pressing your figure flush against his— and as have his lips, pressing soft kisses against your scent gland repeatedly, in search of the scent that he was only granted a mere glimpse of— soft, careful kisses at first, listening to the way you whimper and cry against him, trembling hands balling up his shirt in your fists— only to feel himself grow more desperate, out of control, his lips parted and harsh as he presses his kisses against one of the weakest points in your body. 

Beomgyu’s nose is sharp, is able to pick up on even the slightest changes within your scent— so when he picks up on the warm, subtle twinge of vanilla that peeks through everything else, he’s unable to find himself exhibiting restraint. Warm and wet, you feel his tongue press against your skin, the sharp, accidental scratch of his fangs following after— and you gasp, eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling above you as your mind finally processes what his intentions truly are, feeling your instincts take over soon after— the moment of clarity passes, and your vision fogs; your body melts against Beomgyu’s.

You’ve been sandwiched between the counter and Beomgyu’s body; even more so now that Beomgyu’s felt you submit to him, head lolling to the side and displaying your most fragile part to him, a smell of vanilla, warm and sweet like a pastry, filling his lugs soon after— you’re presenting yourself to him, eyes glassy and lips parted as you simply let out a shaky exhale. 

Your legs are parted with every attempt Beomgyu makes to get closer to you, feeling him stand in between them as he continues to cage you in, continues to kiss and lick along your exposed skin, huffing and sighing in satisfaction with every soft keen you let out in response, your mind and soul still convinced that your time has come to an end. 

From a distance, Soobin senses it; he sees the dim lights of your cottage, the door that is left ajar, crooked on its hinges— most of all, he’s able to pick up on the intoxicating sweetness that escapes from the cottage, the innocent jasmine that’s intertwined with the scent that travels with the wind— and his ears stand straight, keen senses straining to hear the soft sob that leaves your delicate lips— his body reacts before he can, and he runs straight to you. 

The sharp call of your name is all Soobin can get out before he stumbles to a stop at the kitchen doorway— his eyes remain wide and focused on the sight before him, body on edge and tail stiff as he grits his teeth in rage. 

Your doe eyes meet his instantly— they’re shining and incoherent, and Soobin wonders if you’re even conscious of where you are, of the way you whine out his name in the most fragile tone he’s ever heard. The rest of you is covered— you’ve been pressed tightly against the kitchen counter, back arching backwards due to the sheer pressure of the body that weighs you down; ragged clothing covers your own, the pink coat obscured by a white flowing, dirtied white button up, falling off the owner’s shoulder and pooling at his elbow— Soobin’s eyes follow the line of movement, taking in his arms disappear behind your waist, forcing your lower halves to be glued together, your dress bunched up at your thighs from the crude way they’ve been forced open. 

“Soobin,” you whine again, taking his attention as he watches a hand of yours appear from where they were caged in, outstretching shakily toward him before it falls limp, hanging over the arm that pulls you closer against him. 

Dark, long hair covers the face that is buried in your neck— ears of the same color adorn the top, twitching with interest at the sound before they stand forward— roughly, the head emerges from its hiding place, eyes blown open with nothing short of hunger; the wolf before Soobin bares his teeth and growls, hugging you tighter against him, stepping back and shielding you away from the dog’s view. 

Soobin doesn’t hesitate to mimic the other’s threats— he means every bit of it and more, face alight with rage and body poised in an aggressive stance— and though your face has been tucked into the wolf’s chest, though the arms that wrap around your body attempt to prevent you from being seen at all, Soobin is still able to catch glimpse of your tail that quivers with fear, of your figure that shakes pathetically from instinct. 

Loud, angry growls and spiked scents fill your senses and leaves you docile; Soobin’s sharp, strong pine mixes with Beomgyu’s thick, intoxicating smoke, painting the scene of a burning forest as they continue to warn the other, narrowed gazes and sharp canines creating yet another standstill. 

Beomgyu’s eyes catch onto Soobin’s restlessness with ease— and before he’s able to make a move, Beomgyu is manipulating your body once more, spinning you around and pressing your back firmly against him, feeling the way you follow his every command without a second thought— and when you present yourself to him for a second time from pure instinct, Beomgyu grins; his eyes lock with Soobin’s and his head cranes down, dangerously close to your scent gland that continues to release its tempting smell.

“Stay.” is all Beomgyu growls out, eyeing the way Soobin freezes immediately, wide eyes watching the way Beomgyu’s mouth opens, tongue lolling out lazily before it’s running slowly against your shoulder, gliding along until it stops dutifully against the joint of your neck, pressing down to feel your pulse— Soobin flinches, undoubtedly wanting to lunge forward, but is stopped again by the wicked smile Beomgyu sends him, sharp canines meticulously on display. 

You’re all left frozen— Beomgyu’s arm that has been thrown around your waist toys with the hem of your cute coat, the other that presses against your heart feeling the quick pounding against his palm— and he laughs, inching his hand up slowly until it’s around your neck, his index and thumb exuding little effort to keep your head upright, watching your eyes slowly meet Soobin’s.

“Any sudden moves,” Beomgyu begins again, eyes flickering down to your neck, watching the quick rise and fall of your chest with fascination, feeling the way your throat constricts with every swallow against his palm— and he smiles, looking back at Soobin and allowing his tongue to run over the top row of his teeth leisurely, “and she’s mine to claim.”

Silence; Soobin takes a moment to weigh his options, to inspect the scenery before him— the wolf means it, Soobin is quick to realize, seeing the way he all but drools over your exposed neck and faint figure— and he meets your eyes again, attempting to decipher what you may be thinking, only to realize that you’re not composed at all; you’ve been stripped down to nothing but your basic survival instincts, and yet it seems as though your brain has told you that it’s best to give up any fight you have left inside you.

Soobin feels his jaw ache from the way his teeth grit together angrily— and with a soft huff, he becomes the first to look away from Beomgyu entirely, turning his head in defeat and forcing his body to back down. 

“Good dog,” Beomgyu coos mockingly, grinning unabashedly at the sight of Soobin’s face twisting up in anger; he turns to you, placing a slow, lingering kiss on your cheek before he murmurs softly into your ear. “My flower, don’t you want to show him how perfect you are for me?” 

Beomgyu doesn’t expect a response from you; the way you whine and shift restlessly against him is enough, having already felt him rutting against you the moment he had you caged against the counter— and he continues to do so, even now, the hand on your throat forcing you to tilt your head, allowing him access to suck and bite on the clean canvas of your skin; your eyes flutter shut, and you’re left to rely on his strength to hold you upright, body rocking gently with every thrust that is delivered from the wolf behind you. 

“So sweet for me,” Beomgyu groans, his hands letting go of their respective places before they begin getting busy; your legs feel shaky and you’re left to watch as he undoes the ties of your coat, slipping it off before he reaches to bunch your thin skirt at your waist— you gasp softly, face heating up at the feeling of being so exposed, hands flying to pull down your skirt on instinct— but you’re granted no such reprieve, stilling immediately as a growl leaves Beomgyu’s lips at your action.

Soobin’s head is snapping back at the two of you at the sound of the threat— his eyes widen and he inhales sharply, a clear mistake that only makes Beomgyu grin— your scent, thick and progressively needier, clouds Soobin’s mind, clouds his judgment, unable to do anything more than stare at the way Beomgyu has you in his arms, canines still glittering under the soft lights of your home as a constant warning. 

“You smell it too,” Beomgyu speaks, his words less of a question and more of a fact— Soobin’s eyes dilate and his nostrils flare that moment Beomgyu’s lithe fingers begin to wander around the hem of your panties, feeling your thighs press together and your hands grip at his forearm shyly; from Soobin’s distance, he’s able to pick up on the tears that hang on your waterline, the way your lip quivers from the humiliation of being exposed so crudely. 

“Innocent thing…” Beomgyu murmurs, dipping down to swipe the pad of his middle finger across your slit, listening to the yelp that escapes your lips, feeling your body buckle against him— and sure enough, a spike of your scent follows after, like an addicting toxin that only fuels the desire of the two canines before you, “So tempting. So good.” 

You’re crying softly at the way he continues to tease you, overwhelmed by the foreign sensation, mouth parting in shock as his hand sneaks past the waistband of your panties; you feel as though shocks of electricity flow through you the moment he brushes against your clit, teasingly at first, only to begin circling it steadily soon after— and you can only moan and whine for more, unknowingly bucking your hips forward in search for something else that can satisfy you. 

When your eyes meet Soobin’s, you can only feel a hot wave of shame flow through you— his expression is unreadable; is he embarrassed of you? Disgusted, ashamed that you have already given in to the simplest threats? You’re not remotely near as strong as he is, you defend yourself mentally, you’re sure that it was either this or— or…

“You filthy mutt,” Beomgyu spits out beside you, laughing softly at the way Soobin has yet to take his eyes off you, eyes narrowed meanly and brows tugged together, an expression that could be easily read as rage— but Beomgyu knows better, watching as the said man jumps at the sudden sound of the other’s voice, gaze hardening the moment they lock eyes; Beomgyu huffs out another mocking laugh. 

“You like this, don’t you?” Beomgyu asks, as though he were sharing a secret— behind you, you feel his hips buck against you, able to feel the hardness of his cock as he uses his free hand to press just below your navel, forcing you back on him— and you gasp, his ministrations against your clit never ceasing as he continues to fuck against you slowly, groaning breathlessly at the feeling of your warm body against him; Beomgyu’s eyes never leave Soobin’s, however, pupils filled with nothing but a mocking joy as he continues breathlessly.

“You want her.”

Another wave of arousal floods though you at his words, filling the room and reaching the two men before you with ease; you’re able to see and feel the way their chests rise slowly, the way they take in your essence before letting out pleased sighs, their own strong, heady scents filling your senses as you simply flutter your eyes shut and whine with need.

“No need to deny it,” Beomgyu grins, leaning his head against yours fondly, middle finger abandoning your clit to tease your entrance, your mouth falling open and hips twitching in surprise at the feeling— the man behind you simply watches with amusement, watches the way you meet Soobin’s gaze shyly, body heated up with embarrassment as you can only let out pathetic cries and breathless gasps with every new stimulation— and Beomgyu’s finger enters you slowly, meticulously, angling himself just right; your vision is fogging at the stretch, hands gripping onto the strong forearm that helps keep your upright as you merely beg for more. 

“I’m sure she’d love to give you a show,” he continues, palm pressing against your clit, other hand guiding your hips to roll steadily against his hand— he chuckles softly at the way you’re pliant for him, following his every command without a second thought, “filthy, greedy thing.” 

Though Beomgyu directs those comments at you with a voice of acid-like hatred, the way he stares at you is anything but; his eyes are just as keen as the rest of him, willing to not miss a single reaction you make for him, from the way your voice breaks with need to the way your fingers twitch helplessly against his skin— his body buzzes with a desperate energy, his cock pulsing and begging to be inside you the longer he feels you rock helplessly against him— lucky for him, you seem to be getting just as desperate. 

“Get your filthy hands off her,” Soobin seethes, though he’s unable to make a move to get you away— a single twitch of his tail enough to garner a harsh sneer from Beomgyu, teeth snapping together in warning— the idea of having you claimed, taken, and possibly killed by the monstrosity that holds you hostage is enough to keep Soobin complacent for now, undoubtedly waiting for the moment the wolf no longer has easy access to such a vital part of you to make his move.

Beomgyu doesn’t heed the other’s comment— if anything, he laughs, prodding a second finger at your entrance, forcing the other to listen to the way you perk up and cry in panic, poor inexperienced body not used to the stretch, to the curve of his fingers as he presses against your soaking, tightening walls, calloused skin making you shiver as he forces you to grind against him, to fuck yourself on his fingers. 

“Hmm? Don’t touch her?” Beomgyu asks, curious fingers stretching you open slowly, grinning at the way you throw your head back against his shoulder and whine, a hand slapping over the arm that currently fucks your slowly, pressing against it in feeble attempts of getting more, “What, does it upset you that you won’t be getting to her first?” 

With a particularly calculated thrust of Beomgyu’s fingers, you’re jolting up and letting out a broken moan; he proceeds to continue to abuse the weak spot within you cruelly, watching with an amused gaze as you continue to fall apart against him like clockwork. You’re getting wound up quite quickly, not used to the intense feeling of pleasure being provided to you— and Beomgyu takes in the sight eagerly, smiling in amusement before he’s stopping abruptly, watching your head hang and your chest heave from the sudden loss of stimulation. 

“Does it anger you?” his fingers slide out from your cunt slowly; you twitch at the feeling of emptiness, barely processing the way his hand slowly snakes its way back up, grabbing at your neck and forcing you to look forward again— his fingers, covered in your arousal, prod at your mouth, and in your dumbed state, you can only follow his commands and part your lips dutifully; your tongue circles around his digits and your lips close around them, flushed face painting a lewd scene that only makes Soobin tense; beside you, Beomgyu smiles wickedly. 

“Knowing that you’re about to watch her get fucked open— get knotted good— by a wolf?” 

Soobin thinks he might be seeing red at this point; his hands remain by his side, closed into a tight fist that has his nails threatening to break through his skin— but that’s the least of his worries, especially with the way your ears twitch and your body perks up at the wolf’s words— both of the men are able to pick up on your reaction with ease, one clearly much happier than the other at the sight. 

“You know, if you behave, I might give you a turn.” Beomgyu looks over at you, chuckling softly before he removes his fingers from your mouth, only to grab at your face and turn it roughly to look at him; his fingers dig into your cheeks and his forehead presses against yours, taking one glance at your hazy expression before he’s cooing softly. “I’m sure you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”

All you can do is muster a broken whine in response. 

Beomgyu is letting go of your face with a soft chuckle; slowly, you muster the courage to look forward once more, inevitably meeting Soobin’s gaze as a result— his expression is unreadable, and it makes your knees feel weak— your mind races to try and decipher what he may be thinking about, left unaware of the way Beomgyu has let go of your dress, letting the skirt fall slowly over your front as he busies himself in lifting it from the back instead, allowing himself access and grazing your skin curiously; it is only then that you’re coming back to your senses, heart rate picking up with a panic and body bristling the moment you feel the wolf’s hands wandering across the swell of your ass, muttering soft praise that doesn’t quite reach you— a firm hand grabs at your waist, keeping you in place the moment you tried to shift away from him shyly, tried to cover yourself with a weak protests that only garnered yet another growl; with wide eyes, you looked to Soobin, unaware of the helplessness that coated your glassy pupils. 

“Soobin,” you cry yet again, blood growing cold at the way he simply seems to stand and watch; his gaze seems to have wandered, seems to have been following Beomgyu’s every action, adam’s apple bobbing at the sudden sound of impact that filled the room, the sound of your yelp followed by the sight of your pathetic hands attempting to swat Beomgyu away, easily overpowered the moment the wolf gathers your wrists in his tight hold and scolds you to stay still, his claws digging threateningly into the soft skin— and again, your head whips back around to look at Soobin, ignoring the keen stance of his ears and the slow, interested sway of his tail as you simply call out to him again, “Soobin, please…”

You’re not sure what you’re begging for any more. All you know now is the feeling of Beomgyu’s broad chest pressed against yours, the muddy feeling of your brain as smoke fills your lungs, allowing your head to loll back against his shoulder, allowing your hips to begin to grind back against the hard bulge that has begun to tease you, shivering softly at the way Beomgyu’s head remains buried in your shoulder, pulling you back against him firmly— you barely register the way your voice whines in protest the moment you feel his lips pull away from your delicate skin, abandoning the gentle kisses and sucks to sneer triumphantly, his low voice a half-hearted replica of yours as he proceeds to parrot your words softly. 

“Soobin…” Beomgyu sing-songs, reaching his free hand down to tug at the waistband of your panties, soaked through with arousal that leaves your inner thighs shining pathetically; the said man is snapped out of his trance immediately, enticed gaze hardening the second his eyes find Beomgyu, chin perched on your shoulder leisurely as he continues to tug your panties down, feeling the way they slip down your hips ever-so slowly, “Soobin, come here.”

When Soobin refuses, Beomgyu scoffs— though, he doesn’t seem to be surprised in the slightest. 

“Come on Soobin,” Beomgyu repeats again, softly this time, eyes half-lidded as his mouth dips down to kiss your skin; right at your scent gland, tongue darting out before his eyes dart up to lock eyes with Soobin— you can feel goosebumps form on your skin as Beomgyu laughs breathily, mouth still open as he proceeds to nip at the spot gently; not enough to break skin, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to make you squeal and jolt in surprise. Soobin flinches. 

“Come.”

It takes a pleading look from your tear-brimmed eyes for him to move. A slow, hesitant step first, pausing momentarily to gauge Beomgyu’s reaction— the said man quirks a brow in amusement, a silent encouragement to continue— and Soobin finally finds himself looming over the two of you, eyes dark and narrowed as he watches you reach out for him with a trembling hand— curling his shirt into your fists, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his chest, body unintentionally arched forward and left in the perfect position for the man behind you— Beomgyu simply coos softly at the action, a false sense of endearment that makes Soobin’s teeth grit with rage; when their eyes meet, the wolf simply smiles. 

“Kiss her,” Beomgyu says, the words almost inaudible from how softly they were uttered— but then he’s grabbing at your head and forcing you to look back up, ignoring the sound of protest you make and holding you up by your jaw as he tilts your head to look at Soobin, fingers squeezing your cheeks and forcing them into a soft pout, “Go on. She’s dying for you to touch her.”

Beomgyu speaks as though he were the one in control of your body and mind— and perhaps he is, you find yourself thinking, teary eyes unable to communicate anything more than want as you feel your panties slowly dragging down your thighs, the wolf behind you hissing softly at the sight of the string of arousal that sticks to the fabric, your slick cunt tightening around nothing in response— Beomgyu’s fingers find themselves teasing your entrance again, three this time, dipping in and out of your cunt, stretching you yet leaving you craving for more.

“I…” Soobin breathes out, reaching out slowly for your face; Beomgyu’s rough hand retreats, and it’s replaced by Soobin’s large, gentle ones that cup your face and stroke your cheekbones, watching the way your eyes flutter up to look at him, tears clinging to your lashes like crystals; his eyes follow the path one makes as it falls, thumb wiping it away softly as he finds himself leaning closer, watches the way your lids fall and leave your eyes hazy and obedient.

This is it, Soobin realizes, eyes flickering back to where Beomgyu continues to tease you, much too lost in the sight of your cunt trying desperately to suck in his nimble fingers to pay much attention to the two of you, this is his chance— he can save you. 

You seem to catch onto Soobin’s calculative gaze quite quickly this time— and your heart flutters with a slight hope, your chest falling in quick, shallow breaths as your hands tighten against the fabric of his shirt— his eyes flicker back to yours from the action, taking in the way they hold that innocent light of yours he’s always adored— and his heart breaks. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. 

There’s nothing you can say to that; his lips are on yours before you can so much as let out another breath. They’re soft, hesitant, as though you could shatter if he touched you wrong. His hands shake slightly as he holds your face close to his, feels the way your mouth remains frozen for a second, only reciprocating once you’ve felt the soft pass of his tongue against you— and your overwhelmed mind blanks entirely. For the final time tonight, you submit. 

The kiss is slow, it’s deepening out of your control, and it’s everything you imagined many moons ago, when you first began to feel a spark of desire for the man before you— when you swooned and flustered at the comfort you found in him, the warm feeling that always settled in your chest when he was next to you, knowing you could always go to him for protection. 

So as you feel his hold on you become firmer, feel the way he sighs against your mouth with no intentions to let you go soon, you wonder what it is you feel now— trapped between the two canines, lungs burning and and mouth left open as you allow Soobin to venture inside, not allowed any reprieve from the man who keeps you close, a soft groan leaving your lips as your sensitive ears pick up on foreign, slick sounds behind you, hisses and sighs of pleasure from another— because the feeling that pools in your stomach isn’t remotely reminiscent of the gentle, delicate warmth you always felt around Soobin; it’s hotter, angrier, greedier— it begs to be satiated and throws away the last good sense of judgment you had within you. 

“Soobin— oh god, Soobin—” you hiccup suddenly, finally able to escape from the said man’s mouth that seems to chase endlessly after yours; even now, you still can’t help but cry for him, your body unprepared for the sudden feeling of a cockhead swiping at your slit, the wet noises that arise from the sheer arousal that continues to leak out of you. You cry and you beg with hot shame burning at your skin, unsure of whether you plead for mercy or for more— your body arches and your hips seek for more, cunt throbbing at the feeling of Beomgyu’s tip pressing at your entrance, his rough hands rubbing circles along your ass absentmindedly, but your heart twists and makes a thick lump build in your throat, wishing nothing more than to be experiencing this all differently, in the comfort of your room and in the secure, warm embrace of the man in front of you— you wish for something more intimate, something as gentle as the love you felt. 

But all Soobin does is watch. He strokes your hair with a slow hand and cups your cheek fondly, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead before wandering down to press another at the tip of your nose— and he soaks up the pitiful sounds that make your voice break, feeling your hands attempt to steady themselves against him as Beomgyu begins to enter you; slowly, salivating at the way he feels your walls stretch around him, struggling to adjust to merely the tip— he stares down at your dripping pussy with a parted mouth, letting out a slow breath at the sight of your legs that threaten to buckle and your fluffy tail that goes wild with every inch he eases in— and he finds himself having to take deep breaths to not take you as he wants then and there.

“It’s okay. I know, I know— I’m right here, I’m right here with you,” Soobin murmurs against your skin, placing slow kisses along your jaw, allowing you to duck into the crook of his neck for solace— and he smooths your hair as he feels you nuzzle into him, eyes hooking onto the sight over your shoulder of Beomgyu entering you, the feeling of his hips flush against your ass bringing about another shuddered sigh from your lips, nails digging into Soobin’s chest as you attempt to overcome the new sensations. 

“I got you, don’t worry my doll,” Soobin utters, a hand going to place itself on top of your own, intertwining his fingers with yours before he begins to weigh it down, to guide it down his chest— he lets out a shaky sigh, feeling you cry and squirm against him, “It’s okay… just relax and you’ll feel good, okay?” 

“Don’t you wanna feel good?” Soobin coos against your temple, eyes fluttering shut as he feels you nod against his shoulder, feels the way your hand has successfully breached past his underwear, pants already undone and still guided by his much larger hand as he brings you to palm him slowly, wrapping your shaky fingers around his length; you’re hesitant, unsure of your actions as you allow Soobin to show you what to do— though, you don’t think your brain has truly processed what he’s doing with you yet, preoccupied instead by the thick smoke along with another smell that leaves you feeling lightheaded, along with the feeling of hands groping and smoothing over your skin as a heavy cock continues to twitch inside you. 

Beomgyu isn’t quite fond by your sudden shift of attention; his lips remain upturned in distaste, watching intently as Soobin continues to use you however he likes, your face that remains hidden in his neck directly able to smell the calming, dizzying scent Soobin exudes, placating you and dumbing you down to nothing but a fuckdoll for him— his eyes trail down to where he has you jerking him off slowly, Soobin’s lips pressing kisses to the top of your head as he continues to murmur soft praises that have you melting against him— an unfamiliar, hot streak of rage courses through Beomgyu’s system at the sight. 

“So ungrateful,” Beomgyu scolds suddenly, reaching forward to grab a fistful of your hair and bring you back— he’s forceful, uncaring of the way you protest, an arm that’s wrapped around your stomach pressing you flush against him as he forces the two of you to move— and you’re left bent over the counter, face pressed against the wood and wrists secured behind your back as Beomgyu bunches the skirt of your dress at your hips and bottoms out inside you once again; you hiss at the feeling, looking to the side to see that Soobin is unfazed by the action— if anything, his eyes cloud with lust at the scene before him, taking in the way you’re stuffed full and arched prettily with a gulp. 

“Why won’t you pay attention to me?” Beomgyu asks breathlessly, looking down at your pliant figure with blown out eyes, tail whipping side to side in anger as he catches the way your gaze still seeks out Soobin’s, eyes unknowingly pleading for reassurance— and he growls, low and heavy in his throat, catching the attention of both of you successfully— but he only cares to have your eyes on him, fully engrossed in the way your mouth falls open and your eyes roll back the moment he ruts into you with rough, slow thrusts. 

“Look at me,” Beomgyu groans, pulling out slowly as he speaks, all the way out until the tip of his cock is the only thing catching at your entrance. You’re squirming, trying to move your hips back against him, but the brutal hold Beomgyu has on you keeps you in place; ears pressed flat against your head, you look over your shoulder, back at the wolf who continues to fuck his tip into you with subtle thrusts, sneering at your glassy eyes that continue to look at him with a jarring innocence. 

“That’s right,” he breathes, sinking into you oh so slowly, filling you up and laughing cruelly at the way your hands scramble to hold onto something for stability, for a simple comfort Beomgyu denies, “Eyes on me.” 

Beomgyu fucks you to prove a point; he fucks you so your eyes roll back and your mouth spills moans and whines dumbly, cock filling you to the brim and stretching you out in a way you never knew was possible— the sounds are lewd and has your skin burning, slick, wet sounds of skin against skin filling up the room and mixing along with your cries of pleasure. Beomgyu doesn’t seem to be doing any better than you, transfixed entirely on the sight of your cunt sucking him in eagerly, dripping with slick that makes his cock shine and falls to the floor in a mess, of your ass that ripples with every smack of his hips against you— this is all so new to you, he can tell, your body buzzing with an insatiable need that turns you into nothing more than a cock-hungry whore, your tail wiggling desperately with every harsh thrust of his, as though hypnotizing him to keep going.

The sight of you— a drooling, crying, moaning mess— is the polar opposite of your sweet, naive self, your trusting self that got you into this situation in the first place— and it makes Soobin’s cock twitch with raw lust, the spectacle of you becoming ruined so easily something he never thought he’d witness; such a pure thing, Soobin always felt as though you needed to be treated like glass— but Beomgyu is more than willing to prove that’s not the case with you, growling pure filth at you as he continues to fuck you into the counter, watching the way he hovers over you, practically caging you in with his body, as though wishing for the two of you to become one. And just like before, Soobin watches. He stands to the side and listens to every sweet mewl of yours attentively— after all, he’ll get his hands on you soon enough.

“Tight little cunt— fuckin’ takes me so well,” Beomgyu murmurs into your ear, panting and groaning at the way you tighten around him, “such a good girl for me— shit, you like that? Like it when I talk nice to you?”

Beomgyu is quick to catch onto every little reaction of yours, including the way you tighten hopelessly around him every time he sings soft praises into your ears; it makes you want to hide your face in shame and deny his questions, but you barely get a chance to speak with the way he fucks you— fat cock stretching you out, leaving you speechless as he continues to pound into you firmly, sloppy mouth nipping and marking all over your neck; feeling him on your shoulders and back, canines brutishly ripping at your clothes to get more access to your innocent skin, feeling the way your walls squeeze with every scratch of his sharp teeth against you, eager to get his lips onto any part of you he can. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck, you’re— shit– you’re squeezing me so tight, can barely fuck you,” he rambles off, hand letting go of your wrists so he can grab your hips and pull you back onto him— you’re wailing at the feeling, hands failing to stabilize you as you hold onto the counter, eyes screwed shut as you babble at Beomgyu to slow down— but of course, he doesn’t listen, too caught up in the feeling of you to pay any attention, “Oh, are you close, sweet thing? I can feel you— can feel you getting closer.”

“Do you wanna cum?” He asks you in that same, sweet voice laced with faux pity, smiling unabashedly at the way you immediately nod in response, giving in to his brutal pace, “tell me how bad you want it then.” 

“Please… please let me…” you trail off, unable to communicate properly with the way Beomgyu continues to fuck you, not granting you any mercy as he watches you struggle, “need– need t’cum, want it, feels so good.” 

Beomgyu laughs, the sound labored and breathy from the way you clench around him throughout it; he finds himself glancing over to where Soobin continues to watch, the sight of him focused entirely on your figure making him sneer— his eyes are hypnotized by you and his ears twitch at every weak word that spills from your mouth, lips parted as he all but drools for you— the drastic contrast in character has Beomgyu’s lips twitching in amusement, wondering just where that overprotective bodyguard of yours has gone.

“Yeah? Am I making you feel good?” he mocks, watching as your bowed head nods instantly; he huffs, glancing back at Soobin before he coos softly at you, “Who’s making you feel so nice? Tell me, pretty thing.”

The sudden mention of the pet name is enough to set you off unexpectedly; your mind goes blank entirely, save for a single thought that continues to roll of your tongue like a mantra: 

“Beomgyu,” you cry, sobs wracking at your body from the intense feeling, your voice interrupted with loud, uncontrollable moans, “You— it’s you– Beomgyu— please, please— too much…!”

Beomgyu continues to fuck you until your legs tremble and your body weight is placed entirely on the counter, hips held up entirely by the strength of the man behind you as he finally heeds your pleas; he slows until he’s bottomed out inside you, feeling the way your walls continue to pulse as you whimper quietly at the sensitivity— such a touchy thing, Beomgyu muses to himself, looking down at your messy cunt and feeling the way his cock twitches, still in need to fill you up properly.

“Can’t take anymore?” Beomgyu asks apathetically— and though you weakly let out a sound of affirmation, you can tell he doesn’t really care to hear your answer; not with the way he strokes at your skin in fascination, wandering hand pulling at the base of your tail and watching you squeal in surprise, body arching in an attempt to get away— you all but slump into a pool of overstimulation once he finally lets you go, foggy mind barely able to pick up the way he tsks. 

“Don’t lie— you can, I’m sure you can,” Beomgyu tuts, watching with amusement as you pout and petulantly shake your head, “you’re a good girl, you can take whatever we give you.” 

You don’t seem to process the meaning of his words to a full extent— you’re too far gone to do so, body turned weak as you continue to try and stabilize yourself, chest heaving with every breath you take. But it doesn’t matter if you’ve caught on to what’s happening around you, your every movement taken care of by the two men that cage you in— your shudder at the feeling of Beomgyu pulling out of you, the slick sound drowned out by the crude praises Beomgyu growls; two, strong hands are pulling you up next, proceeding to maneuver you so you sit on the counter— Soobin stands between your legs, looking at you with eyes filled with want and an undeniable pity; he takes in your worn, marked and messy figure intently, watching as his eyes linger on the rips of your dress and the marks all around your shoulders. His hands go up to the area, and your eyes flutter shut, body craving to be covered, to be coddled and tidied. 

“Such a perfect doll for me,” Soobin sighs out, beginning to tug down at what’s left of the material, watching the way you shudder and open your eyes with a slight shock— a whine bubble up at the back of your throat, but you can’t really find the strength to protest the way you’re slowly left undressed before the two pairs of hungry eyes before you, no longer able to find the energy to feel embarrassment from being left bare— Soobin’s voice is as gentle as his movements, feeling him lift your hips so he can slide the dress off you properly; it wasn’t very hard to do anyway, the fabric practically hanging together by a single thread, “It’s alright… I’ve got you.” 

When Soobin wraps your legs around his waist and hoists you off the counter, you can only wrap your arms around his shoulders and lean your forehead on his shoulder, seeking for more of the scent that calms you down and leaves you mindless; your grip tightens the moment you feel the head of his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he sighs out shakily at the feeling of your sensitive walls fluttering at the feeling— he’s stretching you out slowly, filling you up, and all you can do is bury your head into his neck and try to calm your breathing, taking in the thick sage that fills your senses.

Soobin stays buried deep inside you for a moment, cursing at the tight embrace of your heat around him; you allow yourself to relax— it doesn’t last long though, body jolting with shocks as you feel another head poking at your already stuffed cunt. 

“Wait— wait– I can’t— too full, it won’t fit…!” you cry out, looking at Soobin in a panic; a broad chest pressed firmly against your back, familiar lips pressing a chaste kiss to your shoulder— Soobin’s eyes are dark as he takes you in, ears forward and twitching at your pleas; softly, he shakes his head in reassurance.

“You can,” is all Soobin murmurs, watching your face twist as Beomgyu begins to push into you— little by little, stretching you past your limits, resting his chin on your shoulder and shutting his eyes at the sensitive feeling— tears stream down your cheeks freely, soft hiccups escaping you as Beomgyu’s hips press flush against you from behind; Soobin reaches up to caress your head, to pet gently at your ears, and smiles. “See? You’re doing so well. You can take it.”

You shake your head to refute his claims— but it’s not as though that would change the way they’ve begun to slowly pull out, setting their individual paces that inevitably work together, leaving you full no matter what— and it has your head falling back, mouth falling open dumbly as they begin to fuck you; slowly at first, gently, only because your poor cunt has yet to adjust to the size of them. But once they feel the way you leak onto them, the way your cunt begins to clench as their tips ram into places that have your eyes rolling to the back of your head, they begin to find the confidence to use you how they want. 

Eventually, you’re nothing but putty in their arms; weakly grabbing onto anything you can for support, one finding a firm grip onto Soobin’s shoulder as the other ventured to tangle itself in Beomgyu’s hair— the said man continues to keep his head buried in your neck, lips having a mind of their own as he continues to nose at your scent gland; the action of him nuzzling against it, of him scenting you, is enough to have you a whining mess, fingers tugging at his hair desperately; it only serves to have him fuck into you harder, hips snapping ruthlessly against yours and rough groans escaping him from the pleasure. 

“Fuck, such a good cunt, so tight— ah,” Soobin groans, watching as your eyes flutter open to look at him, teary and catching the moonlight that shines down through the window; he cups your cheek, stroking at your cheekbone fondly as he speaks, “so pretty… you’re so pretty, all I’ve ever wanted— god, you’re perfect.”

The look of adoration Soobin gives you isn’t lost on you entirely— but there’s something else that rears its head within his gaze, hungry and desperate, threatening to swallow you whole— and you realize that, for the first time ever, Soobin seems to be staring at you as though you were nothing but prey; something for him to claim and own. 

But it seems as though he’s not the only one who possesses those particular feelings— Beomgyu’s pace seems to be growing erratic behind you, knocking you forward against Soobin’s chest and leaving you to wail at the feeling of his cock ruthlessly pounding into you, uncaring of the rhythm the other has set in place; he mumbles gruff words against your neck, but it’s all muffled and interrupted by huffed out moans he lets out in between— but your poor cunt seems to catch onto what he might be saying quite clearly. 

“C-close, oh shit, ‘m so close,” Beomgyu says, finally perking up from his place in the crook of your neck to speak directly into your ear, placing sloppy kisses at your jaw as he does, “Ah, d’you feel that? Yeah? Want me to cum inside you?”

You know what his question really entails— you know what your answer should be. But your body simply trembles and your brain short circuits at the thought, traitorous to the last bits of reasoning within you as you dumbly nod at his request; he lets out a moan at the sight. 

“Yeah, you do, don’t you? Want my knot, wanna be bred— ffffuck, I’ll give it to you, I’ll knot you, make you mine,” his every movement has become erratic; Soobin finds it hard to continue fucking you, undeniably sensitive to the harsh pace the other has set— but Beomgyu doesn’t care, leaning in close to your ear to whisper his next words. 

“I’ll claim you,” he breathes out, enjoying the way your little tail thrashes against him at the sound, panic filling your tone for a second before you melt into the idea, too fucked out to be able to refuse anymore— if anything, you tighten like a vice around the two, bringing out sensitive sounds from the two; Beomgyu continues to ramble into your ear, much bolder now that he’s taken control of the situation. 

“You want it— oh fuck, yeah, you’ll make such a pretty mate, all for me,” he growls, his words slipping to the other’s ears and alerting him, his eyes widening yet his pace not stopping, “all mine— mine, mine mine— o-oh, shit—!”

It all happens so fast. The swelling of a knot inside you, stretching you out to the point where you find yourself sobbing, pawing at whatever you can and begging for them to slow down, to be gentle— hot cum fills you, your cunt only able to handle so much as Soobin’s cock is pushed out, just enough so his own knot doesn’t catch, his orgasm triggering immediately after— it’s so much, yet it’s not enough, your whole being pulsing with desire for the final thing to push you to the edge— and it comes in the form of sharp canines digging deep into your neck. 

The right side of your neck stings— then, your left. Two sets of teeth have found their home within your skin, the last of your freedom stripped away as your orgasm swallows you whole— you tremble and you twitch within their hold, cunt filled and leaking with their cum, unable to do anything more than lie within their embrace and take what they give you. 

Your eyes feel heavy; you will yourself to stay awake, but your vision becomes spotted within moments— for the first time in a while, your mind is able to find peace.

 ≪ ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆≫  

When you finally wake, you find yourself surrounded by warmth; with heavy blankets over your figure, you’re able to recognize the place as your room. You attempt to look around, but are immediately met with a searing pain— the night’s events flood through your mind all at once, and suddenly, you’re able to sense the presence of two others next to you; their arms wrap around you and they remain glued to your side, one embrace much more familiar than the other. 

Through your line of sight, you’re able to spot the moon that peaks through your window, hovering just above the dark, looming canopy of the forest. You stare and you stare, unsure of what to make of everything— of what you’re feeling, of the bodies that shift beside you, pulling you closer to them, as though it could never be enough. 

Your eyes sting, and after a second, you find yourself mourning. Mourning for your loss of freedom, for the overwhelming amount of sensations you were put through, and for this complex, dangerous situation you’ve been thrust into. 

You were warned of the forest; you were warned that nothing good came from venturing within. 

But even then, nothing could have saved you from the creatures that roamed beyond.

[princesscolumbia]

Warhammer 40k fandom, sit the fuck down, we're having a talk

And by that I mean you're going to fucking listen while I explain something to you. I tend to ramble to get to my points, but you're going to shut the fuck up and listen because you need to hear this.

I am forty-fucking-six years old.

I have been in the gaming scene since D&D classic was still being published. I have Magic the Gathering cards from the second printing of the first-ever set. I was around for the Satanic Panic of the 80s. My first exposure to WH4k was back in the late 1980s, and here is my entire understanding of the game from the people who tried to explain it to me when I was still a gaming newbie:

There's hypermasculine space marines wearing mobile tanks that emphasize the hyperness of their masculinity even more who literally only think of two things; their ultra-honking-super-masculine God Emperor who they actively kill people to keep alive and fighting anything that isn't a hypermasculine space marine. There's space orcs that aren't really orcs but think they're orcs so they're orcs. (Are they orcs or aren't they? Fuck if I know!) There's magic but it's not magic but it's magic but it's not called magic and you can have your squad use magic but don't call it magic or the inquisitors (who are like thin, mean space marine Internal Affairs weasels) will call you a heretic and it's game over and the space orcs who aren't orcs have won.

Tell me this, numbnuts; how is this supposed to make a teenage transgirl even remotely interested in this game?

Are there any characters in the game? Anyone even have a name that would get me invested in the survival of the pile of expensive metal (they were metal at the time) toys I've got on this expensive vinyl mat? Does anything I do as a player make any difference whatsoever in the bigger picture of the game universe?

The answer to all these was 'no.'

And it just so happened, that was my answer to the question of, "Do you want to play Warhammer with us?" Hillarious, right?

Over the years, I'd encounter Warhammer again and again, from spotting resource books to figurines to models to video games, and in every...single...FUCKING instance; hypermasculine space marines fighting parodies of orcs.

I didn't find out there were demons in Warhammer 40k for almost two decades from my original exposure to the game.

I got into D&D and read up on GURPS and watched Battletech strategy combat games and bought universal resource books and picked up novels and even tried my hand at writing for one of the settings I liked.

Over and over and over again, there's Warhammer 40k sitting in the corner, the art featuring hypermasculine space marines all fighting orcs or demons. There's the players (all men, btw), pulling out boxes and boxes of little figurines and performing troop movements and every single one of these little figurines was a little, hypermasculine space marine.

When video games got to the point where you could play as a character and not have to use your imagination to do the heavy lifting, Warhammer 40k games started getting made, and the main characters that you played were all hypermasculine space marines.

My repressed, hurting little transwoman inside me just wanted to play as a woman, but no, there were no women space marines, so fuck me, I guess.

Then TSR gets bought by Wizards of the Coast and then Hasbro, and RPGs are renamed TTRPGs to differentiate from VRPGs and MMORPGs and through it all, through every single step and evolution of TTRPGs, table-top strategy games, RTSs, FPSs, and anything that has a hope in hell of rendering a space marine and competing against the behemoth that is Dungeons and Dragons in the table-top space or Doom in the video game space, there's Warhammer 40k, being all hypermasculine and space-marine-y.

And the fans of the franchise, you motherfuckers? You kept crowing about how in the game the men are men and the women are men and the children are men and how every man is a hypermasculine space marine, and I'm by this point just begging you to please STOP because I'm so fucking sick of hearing about your homoerotic fixation on your goddamn hypermasculine, hyperfascist, hyper-dogmatic, hyper-religious, hyper-space hypermarines!

I get it! There's no such thing as a goddamn woman...

...oh, there is? S/he's a chaos god/dess that's all genders and has entire armies of women who specifically are corrupted demons who exist entirely to seduce and corrupt your hypermasculine space marines?

For the sake of the God-Emperor that you're busy fellating, HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE HOW THAT'S WORSE!?!?

A few months ago my girlfriend comes to me and says that a friend got her a kit so she could get started in Warhammer 40k. After a brief mourning period for our bank account and an existential crisis over what this could mean for our relationship if she goes down the rabbit hole chasing after hypermasculine space marine ideals, she starts to get excited and tells me she's getting a unit of battle sisters.

"Come again?!" I interrupted.

She repeats that she's getting a unit of battle sisters called the Sororitas.

Well, of course, I took some French in middle school, which is based on Latin, and the root word for the name of the unit was "sor-" which is the prefix for "sister," so yes, this was a unit of women.

In Warhammer 40k.

I actually had to dig up the official Games Workshop site to be sure she wasn't being dragged into some knockoff thing that wasn't actually Warhammer. It took me a good solid two weeks and the actual box of miniature model kits to be in my hand before I could believe that Warhammer had women in it.

And then my girlfriend starts telling me all sorts of lore, mostly because I just genuinely can't believe that this is anything real. Everyone knows that Warhammer is about hypermasculine space marines...right?!

So, okay, the Sororitas are a thing, and I'm still convinced that it's just a few models, a token effort. Have a few females, as a treat.

And then she (my girlfriend) starts telling me about how there's named characters in the Sororitas, that they're a pretty darn big deal and a major part of the war effort, and there's even some transwomen in the Sororitas.

"Bullshit!" I say.

Then I go looking it up, not because I don't trust her, but because by this point I feel like I've stepped into an alternate universe. Everyone knows women Are Not A Thing in Warhammer 40k and it's about Manly Men Being Manly! This is not a space where a transwoman can feel represented and welcome!

...right?

So we start getting more models and she's getting pretty good at putting them together and now we need paint. So we look at the Games Workshop official paints and the prices are actually decent so I order some and look at that, there's a Games Workshop store about 20 minutes away. I'll have the order shipped to them and go pick it up. Turns out it's gotta be two orders, that's fine, the first comes Thursday and the second comes Saturday. I have to pick up the Thursday order by myself, but my girlfriend is going to join me for the second pickup.

I get there, prepared to deal with unwashed dudebros who are wearing MAGA hats and enacting their imperialist fascist fantasies through the medium of Warhammer. I'm expecting to be, at best, harassed, and at worst...well, I didn't want to think about what could happen to a transwoman in Arizona in the middle of Trans Panic season.

The store is clean. And well organized. Not a MAGA hat in sight and there's even a hand sanitizer dispenser right at the front door, and the guy running the shop hurries up to me to find out what I need. I tell him I've got an order waiting and he hurries over to get it and hands it over. Done and done.

No harassment, no catcalls, and no trouble getting my order at all.

A few days later, I'm back at the location, feeling much better about going in, and while we're there I ask if we can see their paints as one of the ones we wanted was out of stock online. The guy who's running the store is the same as the one before. Turns out he's the owner, he makes small talk, keeps my daughter entertained, answers questions like a boss, and most importantly, correctly genders me without me even asking once.

By this point, I'm now convinced that even if the game turns out to be expensive shit, there's at least enough rep for women I could maybe try building a model or three and playing a combat game with my girlfriend.

But it'd have to be either Sla'aneshii or hypermasculine space marines.

But I want to participate in my girlfriend's interests.

But I'll have to pick a horrible, misogynistic parody of non-cis, non-het stereotypes melded with chaos magic and demons OR horrible, misogynistic parodies of cis, het, masculinity.

But I want to play a game with my girlfriend, a game that she's starting to enjoy.

Seemingly unrelated, I'm chatting today on Discord with a friend who, like me, appreciates extremely cut women with abs you could grate cheese on. They send me a pic showing a guy in green armor that I think looks a bit like Doomguy but it's not quite a 1:1 fit being topped by a very ripped woman with purple skin and...those tattoos look familiar.

I load the pic up into image search and oh, hey, there's the original on the guy's Twitter feed! I start scrolling and the more I see of this chick the more I'm convinced I've seen some of the symbols before. I start to think...is this chick in Warhammer? That's where I thought I'd seen the symbols, when I was reviewing some of the materials my girlfriend bought. And sure enough, there in front of me was a confirmation that this was an OC based on an actual faction in Warhammer that features women that weren't the Sororitas.

I didn't quite realize it at the moment, but this hit me really hard and it took me some time to figure out why. More on that in a minute.

Up to this point, right up to the very moment I confirmed this random dark elf OC was a WH40k character, I had it so firmly in my head that there was no actual representation of women among the overall lore of Warhammer, save for the Sororitas, which I was still convinced was just a token presence.

I mentioned to my girlfriend that I'd never seen Warhammer 'sexy' art, whether risque or straight-up porn, before that moment, and she said, "Yes you have, I've shown it to you."

I realized in that moment that the entire concept of Warhammer had been presented to me as "Man, man, man, man, man, man, man" so thoroughly, so completely, so many, many times over the course of LITERAL DECADES (probably 30 years, come to think, I believe I first encountered it when I was 16) that I'd been shown literal porn of Warhammer characters and, because they were women, I had no foundation to make the connection between the characters and Warhammer.

I have a point, and if you haven't figured it out yet, I'll make it absolutely, painfully, obnoxiously clear to you.

SHUT UP ABOUT THE FUCKING SPACE MARINES!!! THE GOD EMPEROR WOULD TEAR THE IMPERIUM OF MAN APART, BURN THE INQUISITION TO THE GROUND, AND SEND THE SPACE MARINES TO THEIR ROOM TO THINK ABOUT WHAT THEY'D DONE!!! YOU HAVE FUCKING HAMMERED YOUR MANLY MEN IN MANLY POWER ARMOR INTO THE DIRT SO HARD THAT NOBODY EVEN KNOWS THAT ANYTHING ELSE ABOUT WARHAMMER EXISTS!

Your space marines suck anyway. The Doom Slayer and Master Chief would bully them for their lunch money and Samas Aran and Bayonetta would FemmeDomme them so hard they'd have to clean their power armor's crotch with an industrial cleaner.

Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP about those fucking loser walking tanks who are nothing but canon fodder for their higher-ups. There are entire alien races that nobody outside your little twink-seeking-bear fanboy clique even knows about because you WON'T SHUT UP ABOUT THE SPACE MARINES!

Just stop. Stop talking about them right now. They won't sleep with you, they won't take you to space-prom, they're so hung up on their spiritual hardons for their god emperor that they wouldn't notice you if they tripped on you.

[vintagepresley]

this is a long one but it needs to be said and TW

am I the only one that thinks lanas most sad and personal songs are ignored. (This is what makes us girls, heroin, wildflower wildfire, cherry blossom, fingertips, kintsugi, A&W)

like???????

This is what makes us girls is about her life after boarding school. ‘’Sweet 16 and we had arrived’’ she turned 16 in a plane on her way to Spain. ‘’I got sent away, I was waving on the train platform crying cause I know I’m never coming back’’ fuck Patricia grant

heroin is about her boyfriends from 2011 who passed away due to heroin overdose

‘’ im flying to the moon again, dreaming about heroin, how it gave you everything and took your life away’’

wildflower wildfire she refers to her mother as her dads wife ‘’my father never stepped in when his wife would rage at me’’

cherry blossom is possibly about a misscarriage. ‘’Little ghost, blonde hair’’. ‘’And when you’re scared, I’ll be right there, you feel afraid, mommy is there’’

kintsugi is a Japanese word for filling broken pottery with gold. She talks about sad things that have happened to her and then sings ‘’ that’s how the light gets in/shines in’’ so I think she’s talking about fixing her broken heart.

Fingertips (her saddest song ) she talks about her having a baby.

‘’Caroline, will you be with me? Will the baby be alright? Will I have one of mine? It’s said that my mind is not fit or so they said to carry a child. I guess I’ll be fine’’ by ‘they’ I assume she’s talking about Patricia. she talks about prescription pills that she doesn’t want to take but has to

‘’it wasn’t my idea the cocktail of things that twists neurons inside- but without them I’d die’’

she talks about her uncle commiting suicide and how it effected her

‘’and Dave who hung himself real high, in the national park sky’’. ‘’To get to you, save you, if I take my life find your astral body’’. ‘’Take you home i, i’ll give you a blanket your spirit can sit and watch tv by my side’’. ‘’I couldn’t handle it, I was in Monaco, I couldn’t hear what they said on the telephone, I had to sing for the prince in two hours’’

She talks about how she tried committing suicide

‘’when I was 15 naked next door neighbours did a drive by, pulled me up by my waist long hair to the beach side’’. ‘’But sometimes it’s just not your time’’

then about her mother

‘’ Caroline, what kind of mother was she to say is end up in institutions’’ ‘’Aaron ended up dead and not me. What the fucks wrong in your head to send me away never to come back? Exotic places and people don’t take the place of being your child’’

And then A&W the fist part. the song is about girlhood and the loss of innocence. It’s about how young girls are told to dress a specific way to not provoke adults or older people. And about how women are seen as objects by a lot of men. ‘’I haven’t done a cartwheel since I was nine’’ people were making jokes about this but she’s talking about how she became aware of what creepy men are like. She talks about being bullied for her body by the public (2021 during lockdown). Which she still looked gorgeous btw!!! A&W stands for American whore but it’s also an American food drive thru thing. And drive thru are associated with strippers/prostitutes sometimes. This could imply that she’s being used for only when he wants her. ‘’forensic files wasn’t on watching teenage diary of a girl wondering what went wrong’’ she’s saying that instead of watching diary of a teenage girl and being fed lies about girlhood, she should have been watching forensic files so she knew how messed up people and their minds can be. then she talks about being raped

‘’ I mean look at my hair, look at the length of if there and the shape of my body. If I told you that I was raped do you really think that anybody would think I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t ask for it’’

when sexual assault survivors come forward and they have to go to court to testify or make a statement the rapists are often dismissed because apparently the victim asked for it to happen. There was a case of a girl wearing a thong who was raped and the judge said it was her fault and that she shouldn’t have been wearing a thong (vile). ⬅️ ‘’ I won’t testify I already fucked up my story’’. Like yeah the second half or A&W if amazing. But why haven’t I seen anyone talk about the first half when it has so much meaning. I’m sure any female has gone though the realisation process of how messed up the world is and how (mostly men but not all) think of women as objects.

I’m so sorry this is really long but it’s so sad that I’ve not seen anyone talk about her sad and personal songs. DYKTTATUOB is definitely in my opinion a healing album for Lana. I think She’s getting everything out there and wants to have a restart. And her finishing it with a second edition of Venice bitch!!!!!! She knew what she did with that but Lana is happy , and she’s glowing more than she ever has and that’s the most important thing.

THISSSS. I feel like a lot of people didn’t really like this album which was weird to me but then I also feel like people didn’t really listen to it. I think everyone was expecting her usual stuff. But this album is definitely one of my favorites. The songs you just listed are so damn good! Fingertips is another fave of mine! The lyrics are so damn sad in all these songs and you can definitely hear how she’s healed from it as well.

THANK YOU FOR THIS AND THANK YOU FOR SAYING IT.

[ntshastark]

NUlts lb

i am, once again, catching up on the last few weeks (but now it's just the anniversary oneshot, uxm and usm)

==

Ultimate Universe: One Year In

lmao tony is literally the protagonist of this universe, so iconic of him

==

i thought this was some rare southern hemisphere rep (HELL YEAH FOR SUMMER CHRISTMAS) but using fahrenheit??

==

that one woman who got arrested for repeating the words on luigi mangione's (allegedly) bullets

==

ah nvm just global warming. anyway, happy first day of summer! it means rainy season is finally here and the temperature should start to go down!! that's right bitch, i pulled a double jeopardy (i don't actually know if that's the right way to use this expression)!! yeah it's the southern hemisphere, but it's also the fucking tropics babeyyy

==

oh wow. they finally did it. they made the worst possible nick fury. the ultimate son of a bitch, if you will.

==

ROBERTO????????????? WHAT HAVE THEY DONE TO MY BOY

==

LOL

LMAO EVEN

==

i was gonna say that's giving people way too much credit, but popular opinion on the ceo thing apparently proves me wrong so

==

is that a falcon suit?? so no sam? :(

==

HE KILLED MANTIS AND DUMDUM????????????????

==

ah damn, a huge shift on the status quo would be so interesting. well.

==

he should be at the club :(

also, thinking of 616 beto and illyana meeting these versions...

==

ok what the fuck are these things supposed to be

and why was everyone drawn with their eyes closed so much on this issue?? was it on purpose? does it mean something or is it just a stylistic choice?

==

...charles?

==

ah so the wolverine/winter soldier is logan. i was kinda expecting a plot twist where it'd be bucky (given logan's is out there calling himself the first mutant)

well, apparently the wolverine comic is gonna be a lot more classic x-men than uxm itself. i can't believe they're putting the x-men behind a paywall, and the pay is having to read one of logan's solo books. and i don't even get scott >:(

well, at least my faves didn't get saddled with the evil russian trope, so i guess it could be worse

==

Ultimate X-Men #10

i didn't even check if i should've read this one before the 'one year in thing' uhhh oops

==

me n the gc

==

i'm sorry, this looks so stupid

==

i genuinely don't know if i just don't vibe with peach momoko's style or if she's really getting sloppy because of deadlines (which, if it's the case, is totally understandable), but like

this is so ugly, i'm sorry. these are thumbnails.

==

sigh.

==

oh. uh.

oops?

==

is this hank???

==

yeah, i guess this makes a bit more sense coming before the 'one year in' thing, since the oneshot makes christmas references and so does the next comic (usm), but this one doesn't. i have absolutely no idea how big christmas is in japan, but i think it makes for a smoother read? (this is me thinking about my 6160 reading order btw)

==

Ultimate Spider-Man #12

they're married at this point

==

OOOOOOOOOOOOO EDDIE BROCK REF AND MJ FAMILY DRAMA

==

oh my god are the watsons going to be the focus of this issue, would hickman be that nice to me???? i mean, three whole women????

==

ma'am you're looking at him with his husband!!!! can't believe mj's mom is a homewrecker

==

oh my god

==

*banging on the table* WATSON FAMILY DRAMA WATSON FAMILY DRAMA WATSON FAMILY DRAMA

==

not posting a lot of screenshots of things i'm enjoying bc it'd just be the whole fucking issue atp

==

jjj being richard's cool uncle is certainly Something

==

guys i think i love the watson sisters

==

oh my god gayle is such an absolute bitch, i love her

==

wait, am i actually supposed to believe they're not fucking????? what's this whole thing been about then???????

(like, i didn't think they'd make it canon or anything, but i genuinely thought hickman was writing it with the intention that it'd be implied bc like. why the fuck else would you do half of what happened in this run)

==

damn. one of the best spider-man issues i've read in my entire life and i don't think peter's actually said a single word in it.

==

oh wait there's more

==

OH HOLY SHIT

HOHOHOLY SHIT, EVEN

==

OH WAIT THERE'S EVEN MORE

==

OH HOLY FUCKING SHIT, JONATHAN HICKMAN THE MAN THAT YOU ARE

[banditthewriter]

Compatible - Billy Russo - 2

Thank you for the lovely response to this fic. It’s meant a lot and I’m really happy to be sharing this fic with you all. You can find part one here!

Here we have part two! This part starts to introduce some characters from the MCU shows and movies. This includes men and women matches btw, should have stated that to start with.

Warning: Mentions of sexual relations with multiple characters over the months. Not described.

*gif is mine*

I hope you enjoy!

---

Month Two

The driver was different, but you didn’t really care too much. The car pulled up in front of house number four. There was another car already parked there so you went ahead and opened your door to get out. This time you met the man at the door since you both knew how it worked now.

The man nodded at you as you approached. He shifted a bit, his hand tightening into a fist at his side. He looked you over and you noticed that while he seemed to like how you look, he didn’t seem…enthused. He didn’t even smile.

You raised your pad up to the touch pad next to the door and waited for him to do the same. Once they touched, it took a second before the screen flashed its welcome. You saw your name and then looked at the other.

Stephen Strange. Yea, that fit. 

He opened the door and stepped through, looking around quickly before he turned back to the drivers. He seemed impatient to get his bags.

You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath before you stepped into the living room. The driver’s dropped off your bags and handed over the key to the cart. Then they were gone. Stephen looked you over again and then held up his pad.

“Shall we?”

You opened up and went to the percentage app. After the familiar scroll, it stopped on 52%. You frowned as you stared at it. Your percentage was so much higher with Billy, even just to start with. You looked up at Stephen to see if he was as confused as you were but he actually seemed…happy with it?

“Pretty good starting point. Definitely a better match than my last one. Guess that’s a good sign.”

You tried not to picture Billy but you did think about the percentages with him. 

“Yea, guess so,” you said with false enthusiasm.

This wouldn’t work if you went into it comparing everyone to Billy. You just needed to take it one month at a time and focus everything on your current match. At the end of the year…well, you’d worry about that later.

For now, you needed to focus on Stephen Stranger.

—

He was a doctor. He'd mentioned it once, offhand when the two of you were doing the introductions. You had remarked with interest, but he didn't seem interested in saying more. 

But once he'd mentioned it once, he mentioned it a dozen more times before the end of the night. Stephen had wanted to go out for dinner but you asked to postpone. Instead the two of you ordered in for Chinese food. 

At night when it came time to pick a bedroom, you washed up quickly and then you headed towards the one on the right. It wasn't until you were safely tucked in bed that you realized which room you had picked. 

The sight from the skylight was different from what you'd gotten used to before, but everything else was the same. This was on the other side of the wall from the one you’d slept in before, an exact replica of the one that Billy slept in.

You glanced at your pad but you didn't reach for it. The only things on there now related to you and Stephen and right then, Stephen wasn't the one you were thinking about. 

—

"First impressions aren't always right. Remember the first time you met me?"

You rolled your eyes as you listened to Karen chuckle. 

"Yes I remember, you had just gotten off from being suspected of murder and stumbled into the paper. I remember fondly," you teased. 

Karen snorted at that.

"And now look at us. Best friends."

You ran a hand over your face as you settled into the window seat a bit more. Stephen was out doing…something. He often disappeared for hours on end. 

"That took more than a month. And I don't know, him and I just aren't…clicking."

You didn't have to see Karen to know that she was making a face. You opened your mouth to explain more but she interrupted. 

"Are you still thinking about…him?"

It had become an unspoken agreement not to say his name. Not to even think about it. 

"It's not about that. I'm thinking about Stephen and me. I just, I just don't feel like we are connecting." 

"Well isn't that something that happens? I mean, I read up on those reviews. There were a lot of people that said they went through it and didn't meet their match. That some of their matches were complete duds."

You remembered those reviews as well. You knew it was a possibility going in. But after…he who shall not be named…you expected something. 

"It's only been a week. Just give it some time."

You knew that. You'd told yourself that every night since the first of the month. What you need to do is give it some time.

So when Stephen came into the house, you greeted him in a nice dress and with a smile. The first honest one since you stepped out of the car that first day. 

“Go get dressed. I made reservations at a restaurant and we don’t want to miss it.”

Stephen smiled as he looked you up and down. 

“Let me get dressed and we’ll go.”

—

“No, come on, I can’t have another bite,” you said with a laugh as you pushed the plate away. Stephen laughed and pushed it back to you which made you laugh even harder. “No, Stephen, really! I’ll bust at the seams.”

He grabbed the fork and took a bite of his own. 

“You know, if you bust at your seams, I’ll be there to stitch you up,” he joked. 

You rolled your eyes. Then you looked over at the other people at the block party. You recognized more people than you thought you would. The last one you went to, you’d been so distracted by…well, you’d been distracted and didn’t expect to recognize anyone. But you did.

One person you didn’t see was…he who shall not be named. You wondered why he wasn’t there with his match, but you knew that not everyone was going to be there.

One of the girls was fast to tell you why she wasn’t at the first block party. A woman with a British accent explained that her and her match hadn’t left the bedroom for most of the second and third week. Not that you were a prude, but hearing them talk about that so blatantly made heat fill your own cheeks. Thankfully Stephen wasn’t nearby during that conversation because you didn’t want him getting any ideas.

But it did make you think about this block party and the people that weren’t there. And wondering if that’s why they weren’t there.

Stephen gestured to you from the other end of the block. You said your goodbyes and started towards him. Once there, he placed his hand on your shoulder and squeezed. 

“Come on, let’s get back home.”

At the house the two of you talked while a movie played, both of you happy and joking. And at the end of the night, you went into your own rooms to sleep. Alone.

—

The clock was ticking down towards noon on the last day of the month. You were packed, your bags next to the door. Stephen’s were on the other side. He approached you with a smile and held his arms out to you. You smiled and stepped into them, hugging him tightly.

When he stepped back, the two of you each pulled out your pads. You both clicked on the percentage app and waited for it to populate.

61% this time. It went up nine points. That’s more than…your first month. Even so, it was way below where you’d started previously with…

“Well, that was a great month. Don’t you agree?”

You smiled at Stephen in agreement. Then you gestured to the door.

“It was nice meeting you.”

As the two of you got into your cars to head to your next match, you leaned back and looked around at the other vehicles on the road. You had no idea who your next match would be, but you had a feeling you could handle it. 

You could handle anything.

—

Month Three

—

The touch pad next to the door lit up. You saw your name pop up followed by the name of the man next to you. Pietro Maximoff. He ran his hand through his dyed hair and grinned at you playfully before he opened the door, gesturing for you to go in front of him. You stepped in and looked around.

Exactly the same. Some of the furniture was slightly different shades, the art on the wall might not be exact replicas but it was probably bought from the same big box store.

The drivers dropped off the bags and handed over the key to the cart. You and Pietro moved around the house, familiar in your environment if not with each other. You crossed over to where Pietro was fiddling with a leaf of a plant. With a smile, you raised your pad and shook it at him.

“Let’s check,” you said softly.

He nodded and pulled his out. You both maneuvered to the percentage screen and tapped the icon. After the slot machine rolled, the number 64% showed up. Higher than where you and Stephen ended. You smiled at Pietro as you closed the app and locked the pad once more. Pietro nodded and looked around the house.

“I think we’re gonna have a good month,” he said with a grin.

You had a feeling that this month wasn’t going to be about connection at all. 

—

The block party was back. Pietro hadn’t seemed overly excited to go and you didn’t feel it either. You told yourself it was because you and Pietro hadn’t had much time to get to know each other and you didn’t want to lose the chance.

Did you have fun at the previous block parties? Sure. But you had a feeling that one on one was a good idea with you and Pietro. The two of you had flirted and goofed off a lot, but there hadn’t been much below that starting line. Nothing beneath the surface with the two of you.

There was something else. Some small part of you that remembered the chick telling you why her and her first match didn’t show up to the first block party. And that memory couldn’t help but bring back the little fact of who didn’t show up to the second block party and what that possible reason could be.

When Pietro came out to where you were sitting on the couch, he didn’t seem in a rush to head down the road. You looked up at him, hair wet from his shower and a towel slung around his hips as he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge. 

“You wanna…head to the party in a bit?”

You stared at Pietro as he drank half of the bottle. Then he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes going to where you were sitting. 

For once you decided to act without overthinking. You got off the couch and moved over to where he was standing. You smiled as you grabbed his hand and started to pull him towards the room he had been sleeping in.

“I think we can find a different way to spend our evening.”

His confused face split into an excited grin as you backed into his bedroom, your shirt being pulled up and over your head as you did.

—

The clock on your pad read 12:03am. You pulled it off of the charger and stared at the screen. A few moments later you clicked on the percentage app and waited. It took less than thirty seconds for it to cycle through to the percentage.

64%, the same percentage you started with. After a month together, there was no change. You swiped the app closed and then put the pad on the charger again. Then you closed your eyes and rested your head back no the pillow.

No change. No difference. Well, at least now you knew.

—

Month Four 

—

The woman with the long red hair smiled and engulfed you in a hug before you even had a chance to gesture to the touch pad. You blinked a few times and then returned the hug. She pulled back and kept smiling at you.

“My name is Wanda Maximoff. What’s yours?”

You gave her your name and then gestured to the touch pad. After you both touched your pads to the connection points, it cycled through the welcome screen. Then you grabbed the doorknob and let you both in. The drivers dropped your bags and the keys and then turned to leave.

“Maximoff. Do you, uh, have a brother in the neighborhood?”

She laughed as she leaned on the back of the couch.

“Yea, I do. Pietro. Did you match with him?”

You thought about the previous month with Pietro and wasn’t sure how to explain that to his sister. She just laughed and waved her hand at you.

“Don’t worry about it, I have no issues with that if you don’t. Pietro and I did this once before and we had some overlap.”

While you were glad that she didn’t have any issues with you having been with her brother and you didn’t really have any issues with it either, you were confused by something else she said. About them having done it once before.

Before you could ask, she raised up her pad. Not wanting to derail everything just yet, you followed suit. You both tapped on your apps and waited.

71%. A lot higher than what you were with her brother. Although you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d end up with the same issue with her as you did with Pietro.

—

At dinner that night, Wanda was talking about her childhood. The fact that you were learning more about Pietro through her didn’t escape you. But you also knew you shouldn’t focus on things with him when you were with her. 

She offered you another glass of wine. When she crossed over to you to pour it, you held your hand up and touched her wrist.

“I uh, I have a question. This afternoon you said that you and your brother had done this once before?” 

Wanda’s smile softened as she sat down across from you again. You took the wine from her and poured yourself some more. She smiled and accepted the bottle back so she could pour more for herself. 

“It was my idea. Pietro and I had talked a lot about our relationship woes. I’d seen commercials for it and I decided to go with it. Pietro followed me because, well, that’s just how it goes with us. The first year in the neighborhood, I didn’t really connect with anyone. After my week-long vacation with my final match, I ended up back in the apartment with Pietro drinking whiskey and complaining about his match. So we wrote to the company and they said we could do it a second time to see if we had better results.”

Wow. You didn’t know that people did multiple tries at this. It nearly broke your heart to be honest. The idea that you’d go through all of this and it wouldn’t be enough?

You weren’t sure you could handle that. Not after how the last few months had already gone for you.

—

Wanda was amazing. She was funny and smart and you enjoyed her company. So no it wasn’t a surprise when you ended up in bed with her within your first week in the house together. 

This time neither of you even pretended to be interested in the block party. It was just a good fit for you both.

You weren’t surprised when you woke up just past midnight the last day of the month with Wanda curled around you. You still weren’t surprised when you pulled your pad to you to check the percentage and found that it had gone up to 85%. It was a huge leap and it felt very fitting for how you felt about her.

But it didn’t explain the hollowness you felt as you stared at the number.

—

Month Five 

—

"Who is it this time? Another relative of the Maximoffs?" 

You laughed and wrapped your arms around yourself. Karen's face pixelated a bit before it came in focus again. 

"No, it's not another Maximoff. His name is Scott Lang. He's a nice guy."

Her face told you that you were a little transparent. 

"Oh, so another dud?"

You winced and looked over to the backyard where Scott was on a video call with his daughter.

"I'm trying. I told my dad I'd keep an open heart and mind."

She sighed and waved a hand at you. 

"I know you're trying. You want this to work out. It just seems like…" She trailed off for a second before she straightened her spine to speak. "It seems like you're still thinking and maybe comparing the matches to someone else?"

You wanted to act outraged and tell her you didn't know what she was talking about, but you couldn't. You didn’t have it in you to lie to your best friend. 

"I don't want to. I actively tried not to think about him. I really did."

Karen's face and voice became sympathetic. 

"I've gotten on a lot of forums about people who go to these neighborhoods. Sometimes they meet the person they are going to match with the first month. It's possible that you–"

"Please Karen, I don't want to think about that. I just…I want to get through this year and hopefully, well hopefully I'll have learned a few things about myself."

She nodded and sighed a bit as she looked down. Then she cleared her throat. 

"How are the edits on the bridge closing piece going? I had some suggestions myself."

You took a deep breath before you launched back into work.

—

"Let's go to the block party," Scott said as he passed you a drink. "Gonna have some bad weather soon. Might as well get some fun out while we can."

You accepted the drink and smiled. He was a nice guy, a fun guy. And you'd seen the weather coming and knew it was going to be ugly for a while. You and Scott had gotten along very well since the beginning of the month. He was fun loving and a little goofy at times. It was nice, easy. 

Your starting percentage was 71% which was a lot higher than you expected. But a high percentage didn't mean the two of you had the best chemistry. Honestly, as much as you liked him, you just didn't feel any attraction to him. 

"Sure. The block party might be fun."

It would be a change of pace at least. 

With that in mind, you changed clothes and got ready. Scott met you in the yard with the pimped out golf cart. As he drove the two of you to where the party was located, he made a lot of jokes and kept you laughing. While you weren't attracted to the man, you did enjoy his company. 

At the actual party, you and Scott stuck together. Both of you knew a few more people than you had the last time you came here, so you greeted them with a smile. Wanda was with a tall British man, Pietro with a woman with short hair. You didn't see Stephen anywhere. Or…Billy.

Scott introduced you to a beautiful woman named Hope. The two of them seemed to be pretty compatible, although you didn't know what their score was. They finished each other's sentences and teased each other with obvious affection. 

That. That was something you thought was important. It was what you saw between your parents. An ease that apparently didn't come from time. It was just…how they were. 

You were watching the two of them interact when you quietly informed Scott that you were going to grab a drink. He barely acknowledged your words and didn't seem to even notice when you turned to leave. 

There were coolers and tables set up on the far side of the party, away from the music. You grabbed a cup and hesitated as you looked over your options.

"I hear the punch is very, very spiked."

That voice. You spun around only to be inches away from Billy Russo. 

"Uh, yea," you stuttered a bit as you turned back around to the drinks, "I saw Pietro spiking it."

Billy made a noise, soft and low. Then he gestured to where you left Scott. 

"Is that your…match?"

You swallowed and focused even more intently on the drinks. To the point that plastic would melt if you had laser eyes. 

"Yeah, that's Scott. Uh. Where is…"

At that moment, you couldn't force yourself to say it. And you weren't even sure you wanted to know. 

From your peripheral you saw him look around. 

"I don't know where she went. Might have gone home."

You hoped that the sound of you grinding your teeth wasn't noticeable. Instead of trying to force yourself to smile and pretend you were interested in his match, you reached out and poured yourself a drink. 

"How have you been?"

You almost choked on your drink. After a difficult swallow, you looked ahead at some of the people hanging out on the other side of the block. 

"I've been good. You?"

First he sighed. Then he grabbed your hand and tugged you away from the drink table. You didn't even think about it. Just followed him. He led you to a gate for one of the nearby houses. This put the two of you out of view of the others but it wasn't completely secluded. 

"Listen, I wanted to talk about what happened. What I did."

You turned to turn away from him and wrapped your arms around yourself. 

"It's fine. I completely understand."

"No you don't. I shouldn't have done it, I should have stayed and at least said goodbye."

You wiped at your eyes even though you weren't crying. Instead you turned to look at Billy. Besides a quick glimpse when he first started talking to you, you hadn't gotten a good look at him. 

Right then, he looked a little desperate. He reached out to grab your hand but you turned your shoulders so that you were a little farther away from him. 

"I should go find Scott. Take care of yourself."

You turned and started to walk away but he stopped you again. This time not with his hand. 

"A storm is coming. Are you going to be okay?"

Honestly you didn't have a response for that. Instead you just forced a smile on your lips.

"Have a good one Billy. It was good to see you."

—

The lightning and thunder made you want to tuck your head under your pillow. It was such a bad storm. Your nails were making imprints on your arms as you stayed curled up in bed with your eyes closed. 

Billy asked if you were going to be okay but what would he have said or done if you'd said no? It wasn't up to him to help you through it anymore. 

But as you finally drifted off to sleep, you found yourself dreaming about Billy climbing into the bed with you again as the storm raged on outside. 

—

The percentage went to 65%. You actually lost compatibility with Scott during your month. You wished you could blame Scott because of how he'd acted with Hope, but you had had constant dreams about Billy since the night of the block party. 

It was your fault too. Not that you expected to be happy with Scott or anything, but still. You had to accept responsibility here.

And maybe address the fact that Billy had a hold on you. 

—

Month Six

—

Your new match was a man named Bucky Barnes. He had a prosthetic arm and an almost permanent scowl, but every now and then he would smile and catch you off guard. It took a little for him to open up to you and you had to imagine that was just how he was with new people because once he did, the two of you got along very well.

You had a 82% compatibility score to start with. And once you both got over the first few days, it showed.

"You don’t seem the type to participate in something like this,” you said with a gesture around the living room where you were both settled in. Bucky looked up from the book he was reading, your legs draped over his lap, and raised an eyebrow at you until you elaborated. “You know, the slow version of speed dating. Tinder on steroids. This.”

He tweaked your big toe to make you jerk your foot away. Then he closed the book around one finger to keep his space.

“It wasn’t really my decision. A friend of mine signed up and somehow signed me up too. It does explain why he was asking me all those questions for a few weeks there though.” 

The thought of a friend of Bucky’s quizzing him about some of the questions you remembered from the questionnaire you had to fill out at first made you laugh. You propped your head on the back of the couch but kept your eyes locked with Bucky’s. 

“Well, I’m glad your friend made you do it. I’m glad we matched.”

Bucky smiled at that. You grabbed his book from his grip and put it on the coffee table with the pages open so he didn’t lose his spot. Then you tugged on his shirt until he got up and moved to lay on top of you on the couch, a grin on your lips as he realized what you were doing.

The two of you were very well matched.

—

“He seems like a good guy,” Karen said with a grin as you shut your bedroom door. You rolled your eyes at her on your phone.

“You’re only saying that because you saw him shirtless. You know nothing about him except what I’ve told you.”

Her grin softened, even in pixelated form.

“And I can tell by the way that you talk about him that you actually like him. Which is how I know he’s a good guy. Doesn’t hurt that he looks like that.”

You laughed and shook your head, but you knew she was right. When it came to Bucky, you really had gotten close to him already. It had been a pretty good few weeks already. 

“Hey,” Karen called softly, drawing your attention back to her. She smiled again, this time the same brilliant smile that made you jokingly call her sunshine sometimes. “I’m happy for you.”

This time you smiled just as openly as she did.

“Thank you Karen.”

—

Bucky was in the backyard working out. You had joined him a few times already, but you woke up that morning with the urge to go for a run. After you sent Bucky a quick message to let him know what you were doing, you got dressed and headed out. It was early enough in the morning that there were no signs of people on the street. You took a deep breath and then started to jog.

Things that had been circling your mind for the last few months melted away. You weren’t focusing on work, weren’t focusing on the increasing number of texts and calls from your parents, you weren’t focusing on the way that Karen’s voice seemed to go softer when she asked how you were doing as if she thought you were fragile. You forced everything to the back and just focused on the rhythm of your feet on the asphalt as you ran through the neighborhood.

Near the pond you detoured off the street and went over to a little footbridge that went over a thin part of the pond. There were some trees there, a few swans and ducks that swam around the water. You jogged over and came to a stop. Then you moved so that you were standing in the middle of the bridge, staring out over the water.

It was beautiful in the morning light.

“It’s beautiful like this, isn’t it?”

You spun around and nearly swallowed your tongue. Billy was wearing black sweatpants and a gray shirt which was damp with sweat. He slipped his headphones into his pocket and gestured to the bridge that you were standing on.

“Mind if I join you?”

You hadn’t brought headphones but you wished you had just so you’d have something to focus on instead of watching the way the morning rays of sun bounced off of his skin and hair. Instead of getting distracted, you forced a smile and nodded before you turned back to the water.

The wood of the bridge was solid so it didn’t creak to let you know where he was, but you could still tell. You could feel his body heat as he came up behind you, reminiscent of how the two of you stood at the drink table at the block party the month before. 

“I didn’t get to apologize at the block party and that’s the real reason I wanted to talk to you. To apologize. I’m sorry for what I did. It was wrong.”

It was a good thing the railing was wood because you were squeezing it so hard that it might break otherwise. 

“It’s okay,” you said softly, because it was. It was in the past and it didn’t matter, right?

Except…

“Why did you do it? Leave without even saying goodbye?”

A hand on your arm turned you to face him fully. His deep brown eyes looked lighter with the sun coming in from behind you. He looked down to where his hand was on your arm. Slowly he let the hand fall until he could grab your hand in his.

The first time he had grabbed your hand was on the way back from the block party. Then how he had slipped into your bed the night of the storm. His hand had brushed against your face and then down the length of your arm so that his fingers could tangle with yours. And after that night, it was just something that the two of you…did. You held hands.

You’d held his hand so many times that it felt completely natural for you to let your fingers thread between his once more.

“I came to this neighborhood not expecting to meet someone that I really connected with. I figured my final match would be someone I got along with and maybe we would date for a while, but I never once imagined that the first person I met would be…someone like you. I find myself comparing my matches to you, thinking about the things we did together or things you said. I look for you at every block party and every time I even just go to the store. I thought I heard someone say your name one day and I almost walked into a closed glass door because I was looking for you. You’re…in my head. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

That was not what you were expecting at all. You wished your heart wasn’t pounding so loudly because it was blocking out his voice and you really wanted to focus right then. You wanted to tell him that you forcibly had to tell yourself not to think about him, that even your best friend compared all of your matches to him. That you stopped going to the block parties because you didn’t want to see him with someone else.

Instead, you went with simplicity. 

“I…feel the same.”

Billy reached a hand up and let it brush against your cheek. He gave you a smile as he leaned in towards you. You were mere centimeters apart when you realized what was happening and pulled back. Then you did one better and pulled your hand from his to step away more.

“We can’t,” you said with a shake of your head. “Maybe you came in not expecting to meet someone you really connected with, but I did. My parents told me to keep an open mind and an open heart and that’s what I’m trying to do. But I can only do that if I focus my attention on my matches. I have to…I have to try.”

He let his hand drop to his side. You saw frustration cross his features but then he shook his head. He looked away from you, out across the pond and into the sun as it rose further into the sky.

“I guess I should try too. And…we’ll see if the connection we feel is enough.”

It felt like lead sitting in your stomach, but you knew it was the right choice. You and Billy had chemistry and were obviously attracted to one another, but you signed into this for an entire year. You had to see it play out.

You took a deep breath and turned to walk off the bridge. As your shoes hit the grass, you turned back to look over your shoulder. He still stood in the middle of the bridge, his attention off to the side like yours had been to start with.

“See you around Billy,” you offered softly before you headed back off towards the road that would lead back to the house you shared with Bucky.

While you couldn’t be certain, you could have sworn you heard him say the same to you before you were gone.

—

A soft noise made you sit up. The bed seemed to shake and at first you thought it was an earthquake, but then you heard the noise again. A whimper almost. You turned to look at Bucky who was in bed with you. He was shaking as if cold, his eyebrows furrowed as he tossed and turned. 

You didn’t want to touch him if he was having a nightmare, so you just called out to him softly. When it seemed to soothe him a bit, you started to talk to him more. In gentle tones you told Bucky how much you enjoyed the dinner he’d made that night and how you liked the way he always made sure you were warm before you fell asleep. You told him how you knew he was always getting your favorite chocolate for the house and that you always left him a few pieces because he had come to enjoy it too.

The more you spoke, the more his body calmed. Soon you saw his eyes blink open as you spoke. He looked disoriented for a long moment until he sat up and rubbed his face. You quieted down and waited.

“I’m sorry if I woke you,” he said in a gruff voice as he scrubbed his hand through his hair. “I don’t have nightmares often anymore but it still happens.”

You reached out and pulled his hand from his face. His prosthetic was on the charge on the dresser in the other room so his other arm was just the stump but you didn’t mind. Instead you reached out and grabbed his shoulder to pull him into your arms.

“You can tell me about it if you want to. Or I can tell you about how I once got my entire office evacuated with an accidental bomb threat.”

You felt him chuckle against your neck. Then he leaned back, gratitude in his eyes.

“I’ve got to hear this story.”

You smiled and ran your hand over his back.

“Well, it started with an aluminum foil wrapped burrito,” you began with a grin.

—

Bucky smiled at you as he leaned in to give you a quick kiss. You smiled back and then reached down to grab your bags. The driver took them from you to load into the car while Bucky’s driver did the same. You climbed into the backseat and gave Bucky another wave before the doors were shut. Then you looked down at the pad that you held in your hand once more.

89%. It was a pretty good jump, admittedly, but that wasn’t why you felt tears well up in your eyes. 

That’s where you and Billy had ended up too. If you thought that this whole program would make things easier, it was sure proving you wrong. While you knew that your connection with Bucky wasn’t as strong as it was with Billy, you couldn’t ignore the fact that you did feel strongly connected to Bucky. The two of you had gotten along almost as easily as you and Billy and there was just as much affection there. 

It was a short drive to the next house. When the car parked, you knew you only had a few minutes before your next match would arrive. With that in mind, you dabbed at your eyes and made sure that it wasn’t obvious that you’d been upset. You wanted to make a good impression on whoever it was next.

The car pulled in beside yours and you waited for your driver to open your door. You heard the door from the other car open as well. Unable to hold off any longer, you smiled widely and turned to face your new match.

X

Thanks for reading! The rest of the year will be in the final part!

X

@readers-posts​

[fite-club]

@a-silver-wind jesus christ your posts are so long.

ok, some TERFs say that "lesbians can't be attracted to men". but TERFs also say "gender is a social construct" and "the patriarchy exists". so are those TERF dog whistles too? and i never said that TERFs are "validating" bi lesbians (which means nothing anyway), i said they were the ones popularizing the term by using it to mean "trans-inclusive lesbianism". look, i hate TERFs. i am trans. i love my trans sisters and try to protect them. PLEASE stop trying to associate me and my opinions with trans exclusionary radical feminism, because i do not under any circumstances tolerate the discrimination of trans women. there is no "exclus to TERF pipeline", there are just as many tucutes and radinclus and other chronically online teen dweebs that horseshoe back around to being TERFs. you're just specifically looking for something that proves your point right now.

"The LGBTQIA2S+ community used to be more inclusive and diverse, then the separatists came along" this is factually untrue. like, source? you're just pulling this out of your ass, it isn't true at all. i mean, "separatists" are always going to exist in every community, it's not like this is an issue that only the LGBT community has. like, only some of the intersex population wants to be automatically included in the LGBT acronyms, many/most don't. the term "bi lesbian" is historical in the same way "transvestite" is-- they were useful at one point, but they aren't used now, because of how we have developed our collective understanding of gender and attraction since then. you're the one using the logic of a reactionary conservative by trying to take steps back in time to the "good old days" before all these mean exclusies dared to question things that don't make sense.

my reasons for disliking the label "bi lesbian" (which is not the same thing as "hating bi lesbians", btw) are consistent. you can't be attracted to men and be a lesbian; just like how i, a gay man, am not attracted to women. the reason you may hear different/"inconsistent" reasons as to why different people also dislike the label, is because we are all different people with different opinions. not a hivemind. "bi lesbian" isn't "another" new identity that i'm rejecting, it's just two identities put together. i'm not trying to kick them out, because they belong, they are bisexual or a lesbian. i'm just challenging the rampant biphobia and lesbophobia that comes out of these pro-BL arguments. i am not "pitting members of the community against each other", i am questioning things that are problematic. because guess what? you can be LGBTQ and still be homo/bi/trans-phobic! i know you believe that, because of your hatred for "exclus", you just think we're the ones being offensive. you know what i think is "pitting people against each other"? picking fights with me by making up shit i don't believe! calling me a far-right conservative facist, because i disagree with you on these niche label opinions! you quite literally are saying "is that what you want? for the community to be destroyed?" as if my fucking answer would be yes!!! THAT IS ARGUING IN BAD FAITH! something you claim to be critical of! you're forcing your opinions, too! you're forcing everyone uncomfortable with the concept of a "bi lesbian" to just get over it already (as if our discomfort is coming from bigotry and disgust, not solidarity)!

i don't give a shit about you "loving diversity" and "hating gatekeepers". i give a shit about "bisexual" and "lesbian" having universally understood meanings. i give a shit about my community being safe from people who will harm it, including from the inside. you keep fighting for the right to call yourself whatever you want, and i can't stop you or anyone from calling themselves a bi lesbian, but i can at least ask why they feel the need to do so. because the answer is probably some form of misunderstanding or internalized bi/homo/trans-phobia!

[smiledog15578]

OK BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT LIKE... who the real villain is in wkm?

I think we all know who it is it’s pretty obvious it’s the house but I honestly think we don’t talk about it often? Literally that’s the mf who’s the real bastard here. ITS THEORY TIME 😼

While actor Mark is an asshole and technically a villain he wasn’t like like that before. Hell he was a generous man helping his friends and was a loved man. When Celine left his ass he was venerable af and the entity was like “TIME TO MANIPULATE THIS MAN FOR MY OWN GAIN” and made him the asshole the way that he is now. I think actor Mark thinks that he’s in control oh shit because he might of been told that but really the house is pulling the strings and making him believe that. He’s literally just about chess piece to use for this evil game of chess (lol analogy)

I’d also like to point out that Celine might of left actor because the house told her to. At the time actor wasn’t vulnerable especially with having a good life with his wife and having an outstanding career and the house probably didn’t like that. So in order to make him weak it took the only thing that he lived at the time, Celine. Another reason she left was because of bad vibes. That house is just infested with bad juju and Celine being a seer noticed that over time but back then since it was kinda discouraged to divorce especially for a women to do it luckily William knew and took her in. William has lived in the same house actor lived so I’m guessing he’s aware of the evil it contains since when he gets turned into Wilford hell even during wkm he isn’t weirded out by the things happening to the house and other weird shit. He was trying to protect Celine. Now again I just wanna say the adultery doesn’t excuse it still a shitty thing to do and William is still a stubborn a hole just as much as actor.

HOWEVER this situation is like novel: The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald (1925). (Btw if you don’t want spoilers skip this) in the book, daisy cheats with Gatsby behind Tom’s (daisy’s husband) back because like I said either during those times it was shunned for women to divorce their husbands and during those days women weren’t really independent back then. They were VERY pressured to get married and have children etc etc. Tom was an asshole to daisy and was even cheating on her but of course men and women back then had double standards where women couldn’t or should do this and same went for men. and I’m not saying that Celine didn’t love actor cause I’m sure they did love each other so much but it kinda explains why she left him other than just because. I also don’t think Celine was necessarily abusive nor do I think actor was at the time. Things got heated and the only scapegoat was to leave him and never return to that house again.

Another thing on my tiny pea sized brain is about the houses world. I have a theory that the house has created a universe inside it while Everything out side it is the original universe (or just our reality idk). This is why George (the groundskeeper) doesn’t appear in any of the new videos is because he wasn’t in the house during all this mess (in the character world idk if the actor for George just didn’t wanna be in the series but then you have to wonder why his portrait isn’t up in the hallway dark made in AHWM). You can think of the house as if it’s a movie set or a green screen. To us and the actors we see these worlds and weird shit when in reality there’s nothing there. Nobody actually dies in this universe because like movies no one actually dies they’re just not on the set. Even the side characters don’t really die cause us as the viewers revive them be just rewatching the video. Wilford knows people won’t die because 1. He’s seen his friend get up and walk around after being dead and 2. He knows that when people “die” they just come back by the help of your Or the entity. He acknowledges that in AHWM where he states that we can PAUSE the video. Almost none of the characters except Wilford has acknowledged that which makes me think he’s a lot smarter the we think or just has more common sense. Wilford is forgetful sure but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid he was a colonel for crying out loud one of the highest ranks in the US army lol. I’d like to also point out that Wilford uses this set ordeal to his advantage most importantly. In WKM we see William do it too by appearing one place then teleporting to another place. Kinda think of the house as the 3rd dimension. Wilford “escapes” that dimension to a new plane and can come back when in reality he’s just leaving what the house is previewing to everyone in the house. Everyone else In this universe except maybe actor, Wilford, and dark know that you don’t have to play along. These people in the houses universe are programmed to believe that they can’t escape have HAVE to play a character.

(Spoilers for wandavision) when I watched wandavision not that long ago it made me think about the MCU (not marvel cinematic universe😏✨ MARKIPLIER cinematic universe) and how it’s kinda like that. Wanda in the show creates this force field out of grief where everything inhabits it is turned into her liking of what fits the narrative. People are being held hostage to just play a part in Wandas sick tv show SHES made for her and her husband. People outside the forcefield are just normal people but once they put a person, object, etc it gets turned into what WANDA wants. I think that fits into the mcu because the house is EXACTLY like that. These mfs haven’t aged at all because time isn’t existing for their universe. Abe thinks that he’s been tracing down William for years but Mark said that “he thinks that but really wmlw is right after wkm” (that’s paraphrasing go watch the wmlw to get a better explanation LMAO) but like I said the house makes you feel like it’s been only years or days but it’s not even close to that.

With that all being said I don’t think anyone here is the real villain here or the hero. Like Mark said They’re all human which they have bad and good traits the only thing that’s the real asshole is the house. It’s like it’s a living breathing purgatory that creates chaos

BUT THATS JUST A THEORY

A GAME- or a youtube .. YouTube theory? YEA A YOUTUBE THEORY!

now mind you I’m not the best at writing so I’m sorry that none of this made sense feel free to correct me or chime in with your theories but I just wanted to share my theories and ideas :) and if you made it those far I’m sorry I wasted ur time HSJSJDJJSJD

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

[deepdonutkid]

Please headcanon it! I agree with lit everything you've said, especially the arguing with Tommy and John being soft and supportive

John with a communist girl- head canon

author's note:

This is my first x reader thing, I guess. This is also the first request, sorts of. So thank you anon, whoever you are, for my first writing request on Tumblr.

Requests are still open btw

Okay, this was a little longer than I expected! And yes, John's kids are mentioned! I just love them and I could write another headcanon about them as well! With fan art, because I have clear pictures of them in my head.

I typed this on my phone, because rn I'm at my parents house with my crappy laptop and it's too slow for me. Usually I type so much faster.

I'm a communist myself so this was very funny to write, because I know my 'linke macker' or just 'mennes' and how to avoid them.

Warning: drinking, violence and bar fights

John always had a thing for strong women. He just doesn't like women who doesn't know what they want and are too shy to talk to men.

He thinks he women shouldn't be scared of talking to him, because he would never hurt a woman. That's why, he can handle shy girls. He doesn't want to carry the whole conversation and he doesn't like silence.

John wants someone he can talk to and also with. Full length conversation about everything. Which cigarettes are the best, if he should wear his cap or the other, what to have for dinner, which card game is the best game... Stuff like that

Since his first marriage he knows that in a good marriage it's you two against the problem and not you two against each other. That is the reason he is looking for a partner, someone he can rely on.

When he first heard your name, he laughed it off. A woman leading protests... He just couldn't believe other men would listen to a woman and follow her command, because he knows men too well and how they treat their wives.

Then he saw you on a pedestal giving a speech about women's rights and he was quite impressed by your volume and your powerful voice. Actually he was just passing by, but he had to stop and listen for a while. You made some fair points. Women did a lot of unpaid work, men could or would never do. But he had to go after all, because he had something to do.

He thought about you once or twice, but after seeing you in the Garrison for the first time, it was something he would never forget. You argued with a man, who confronted you about your speeches and told you to keep your mouth shut.

John was already on the edge of his seat, to help you out, when the man graped you. Faster than he could process it, the man went down. With unbelieving look on his face he stared at you. Never ever he had seen a woman like you. A woman a strong left hook like his.

Finally he stood up and made his way up to you. He grinned, completely smitten, and asked if everything was okay. You brushed it off. Of course, you didn't need help. No damsel in distress here!

Then he had to try something different, because he wanted to talk to you, more now than ever. But he seemed to get a clue, why so many others listened to your speeches and why so many man respected you. Just while standing there you claimed, what was rightfully yours, respect. Everything about you, your whole presence, was so powerful, even a little intimating, but that just turned him on even more. So he asked you about your political opinion on police violence and now it was your turned to be stunned.

Nobody outside of your party wanted to get in a discussion with you, but there he was right in front of you and the smile on his face was honest. He didn't tried to make fun of you. The Shelby was different than all men you had met before. So you went with him back to his table and just talked, talked all night and about all sorts of things.

You just couldn't believe you met a man like this, so charming, so respectful like this in the Garrison. All about him was interested. You felt for his voice and the glance in his eyes when you explained something to him.

Both of you didn't recognize it at first, but while talking you moved closer and closer to each other. Suddenly his hand went on your lap. He moved it away quickly and apologized with a smile. Then you took his hand back, while looking deep into his eyes. It was the moment you knew you passed the point of no-return.

Everything went pretty fast from there. He kissed you, you kissed him, his hands were all over you, despite being in public, and the casual night out ended in his bed.

When you woke up first, you wanted to get away just as fast as you arrived, but he stopped you. Right before you could leave the bed, John hold your hand.

"leaving already?" He asked: "let me make you a cup of tea first"

The way he said with his sleepy voice was all it took to make you stay after all

Then you heard something that made you nervous. The sound of small feet making their way up to this room, mixed with squeaking voice of a little girl

"you got kids?" You croaked

John nodded. "Didn't you know?" Because everybody in Small Heath seemed to know. Kids aren't a secret anyway.

No, you didn't and you shook head. You knew his name, his reputation, but otherwise you didn't bother to listen after the Shelby's name was dropped

Everything the Peaky blinders did was not really legal or nice, so you wanted to stay away from them and further troubles.

Now you slept with one of the Shelby brothers and wondered, if you made a mistake last night by walking home with him.

John saw the concern on your face. "You have a problem with that?"

You eyes widened and you shook your head again. "No. No! I love kids." After taking care of your younger siblings and the kids of of your older siblings and probably a dozen cousins, you knew you loved kids.

And you had a plan to get some children of your own, but you were to busy to work for women's rights and worker's rights and the revolution.

And as you got older you realized that most men took their women for granted, while they did so much for their husbands everyday. You didn't want that for yourself. And you did pretty well on your own. Why would you need a husband anyway?

But something in your heart melted while you looked at him with his kids. You just couldn't deny that and soon you became his girl.

Everybody seemed to know and they treated you different now. You disliked it, but there was nothing you could do about, so you just made your peace with that.

One evening John and you laid in his bed. The kids were already asleep. When John whispered: "I want you to meet my family."

Of course you saw them passing by and they greeted you. Once you sat with Arthur in the Garrison, while waiting for John. But you hadn't talked with them more than a few words.

Then again, you weren't so sure, if you would like to. You knew Tommy from before the war, while he was still in your party and a communist. But that was before the war changed everything. Tommy- you heard from others- became a cold-hearted asshole, who didn't even smile since he came back from france.

While being with him in the party, Tommy and you wouldn't stop "discussing things". Actually you two fought everytime and about every little political issue. One time he threw something at you. This was how much you liked each other and you still had the scar and your forehead from book he threw at you.

John stroked you head and said: "everything is going to be alright. You'll see." You nodded in agreement. If it was his wish, you just couldn't say no. And maybe you could get along with Tommy after all.

But no, it wasn't that easy. Polly, Arthur, Ada and Finn liked you so much, but with Tommy everything was still the same. So not exactly everything had changed after all.

The both of you couldn't stop bickering at the dinner table. It ended with you storming of and leaving. Or at least you thought this was the end.

Right after you slammed the door, you heard John yelling: "I was about to ask her, if she would marry me! Don't ruin this for me! This is my life."

Then you really had to leave. You were scared John would come after you and ask you right away, because you didn’t know what to say.

You ran straight to your parents home and hid there. When the panic vanished you knew your answer.

That night you sneaked to his house and knocked. John seemed so relieved to see you. “I looked for you everywhere, y/n!”

“The answer is yes.”, you sputtered with gleaming joy

It came out of nowhere and John just kept starring at you with the same confused expression

Then you added: “I want to be your wife”

You could see his brain processing this infromation. John still looked baffled.

A grin appeared on his face as he realized what you just had said. Just secounds later he pulled you closer for a kiss

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl

[outlanderfandomfollies]

The “Closet Crew” doesn’t seem to understand the concept of “gravity.”  🐎 🍎 ⬇️ 🤦‍♀️

The latest drama started when S recently posted this photo on his IG:

His posting prompted a rather 😳 anon to another blogger:

Anonymous asked:

“So, I guess the purpose for the trip is not tequila but rum for future men's cigar and liquor establishments? This is the reason for the macho pics to help change the image and help him get more male followings and macho roles? Not with that pic on the horse! Very effeminate* hand poses. He really pings** in that pic. Possibly, Broke Back 2.0?“ [emphasis added]

Homophobic much? 😲 🤦‍♀️

It apparently didn’t occur to the anon that maybe, just maybe, S’s pose doesn’t have to do with anything other than the fact that when one is trying to sit still on a horse, it is hard to know what to do with the free arm and the hand that isn’t holding the reins (especially if one has a rather long arm and a large hand).

If one tries to rest one’s free arm across the other arm, that pesky thing called “gravity” works and one’s unoccupied hand dangles downward from the wrist. (Who knew?!) 

So I thought I’d test my “gravity” hypothesis and looked for some images from back in the day when men in the entertainment industry sat on horses--a lot. 

Let’s look at how Dean Martin sat on a horse on his TV show back in the 1960s. BTW, over the course of his 78 years, Martin married 3 women, had 8 children, and was reputed to be a womanizer. 

Here’s a screencap from the video of John Wayne’s 1965 appearance on Martin’s TV show. And oh look! Is that gravity at work on Martin’s right hand? 👇

Martin’s arm and hand position in the screenshot above looks an awful lot like S’s arm and hand position in his seated horse photo above. 🤔

Even the uber-masculine John Wayne didn’t always seem to know what to do with the hand that wasn’t holding the reins. In the screenshot below it almost looks like he is trying to protect his groin from a stealth attack. 😬 

Still, the old cowboy actor had way more experience on horses, so he doesn’t look quite as awkward resting his right arm across his left. But gravity also pulls his unoccupied right hand (dare I say “limply”) down. 😉

This has to have been one of the sillier debunks I’ve written. 😬

Can we stop with the ignorant homophobic stereotypes already--and with the inevitable (embarrassing) rationalizations for using those stereotypes whenever they are called out? 🤷 

__________________

*For those who don’t think the word “effeminate” is homophobic, please read this discussion.

**According to the Urban Dictionary, “ping” means “to pop up on someone’s gaydar.” Furthermore “pings” is defined as a “short term for ‘pings my gaydar.’ Means that you suspect someone to be gay. Often used by lesbians when discussing who may or may not play for their team.”

Although it is marginally acceptable for people in the LGBTQ+ community to use the word “ping” among themselves, it is not okay for heterosexuals to use it since they are usually referring to homophobic stereotypes when they do. (The LGBTQ+ folks who use it are also sometimes showing that they have internalized certain stereotypes but it is still the prerogative of marginalized groups to use or reappropriate terms that would be objectionable for general use by the larger community.) 

Gravity image source: Shutterstock

[edited]

[chromium7sky]

The Devil wears Armani | chapter 12

A/n: I'm really sorry for the long hiatus of this au 😭. Finally got some spark about this update and I hope you guys enjoy it. Btw, guess who finally meet Raven? 😆😆

Raven finally reached her home after outing and small reunion with Karen. She remove her heels awkwardly as she yawned. It was a long night.

She tell Karen everything about what happen between her and Damian and of course minus the intimacy in his office.

-flash back-

Karen land her chin on her palm propped on the table as she listen to Raven's story. "You know, this is an interesting story though but did he knew about Melchior?"

Raven narrowed her eyes. " Why would I mention that jerk? Besides me and Damian still haven't declare about our relationship, I mean, he does flirt me back. Not to mention we did kiss..." Raven stop at the kissing part.

"Men can be complicated sometimes." She sighed as she take a bite from the cake she ordered.

"Couldn't agree more since I'm about to marry one." Karen wiggle her fingers that had betrothed ring on it.

Both designer and ex model giggled.

"I...I just hope Damian is serious about it. I'm quite invested my feeling for him." Raven chewed her lips.

"I hope so, Rachel. I hope he does." Karen smiled.

- end flashback-

Raven sighed on her bed after she change her clothes into night gown. "Gotta get some sleep because I'm going to meet him tomorrow. Should I ask again about us?"

Raven's mind wander about the golden question, her eyes start to droop as the cold night beckons her to the land of morpheus.

--------

Damian watched the E! Entertainment as he tidy up his studio to catch up any news on fashion industry then the anchorman, Josh Dirkmann said about a known designer from Europe came to town known as Melchior Draco.

"Melchior?" Damian arched his brows. Another designer in town? Maybe there's an event? And as soon as the reporter had some short interview with the silver hair gentlemen with black suit.

"So what makes you come to Gotham?" The reporter pointed the mic towards the designer.

"Well, a big company invited me to launched both of our collaboration and they said Gotham fit the aesthetic." He answered as he tug his silver hair behind his ears which earn a sneer from Damian as he watch the interview.

"Do you know Raven the designer?"

" Oh, yes. We did compete each other in Paris Fashion Show. She won first while I won second. It was a tough decision for the judges. Just so you know, between you and me, we kinda close during that time." Melchior slip out some interesting info towards the reporter.

The reporter almost gasped and demand for more answer but Melchior quickly waved away and walked towards the hotel lobby.

Damian quickly grab the remote control and closed the show.

" What do you mean close each other?" Both of his eyebrows knitted together. He closed his eyes and throw the remote at the couch. "It doesn't matter."

-------

Raven now in mess. The phone call came in nonstop just because of a statement when Melchior mention that both of them were close and the paparazzi possible sniffing out a scandal.

She sighed and landed her head on her desk. A hard knocking landed on her door makes her jolted. " Come in." As she turn her head towards the door.

Mona came in a hurry with an apologetic face. " Miss Rachel, I forgot to inform you that there will be a journalist came for your gala interview today. I'm really really sorry." Mona bow her head.

Raven stare blankly at Mona while her internal having conflict. 'First it's was Melchior statement and now interview? What...what should I do?'

Her palm start to sweat but quickly she fist up her hand. " When will be the journalist comes?"

The assistant girl check through her tablet. " In two hours."

"Who from where?"

"Jonathan Kent from Daily Planet, ma'am."

"Oh?" The same journalist who interview her winning success in fashion show. " Well, make sure escort him to my office and prepare our boarding room. Easier to execute it in there." Raven gives a stern order.

Mona nodded her head vigorously then quickly exit her room.

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

She straighten her back as she heard a knock. She breath in. "Come in."

"Ms. Rachel!"

"Mona."

"A journalist came to meet you for Wayne's Gala interview." She gesture her hands towards a young man with curly hair and those prominent square glasses. "Mr. Jonathan Kent."

"Ah, Jonathan. Hi! It's been a while." Raven stretch her hand towards him.

Jon adjust his specs then handshake with her. "Thank you for letting me interview again , Ms. Roth." His face display his friendliness towards her.

Mona bowed her heads and quickly went out of her office. "How about we bring this interview to boarding room? More comfy?" Raven suggest about changing place.

"Yeah, you're right." Jon nodded.

Raven stood up and escort Jon to the meeting room for more proper place to interview.

She open the light switch and pull out a chair. " You can sit here."

"Ah, right, thank you." Jon smiled sheepishly as he pull the leather chair and sit, opposite with the owner of AMZ company.

" So, how long does this interview lasting?" Raven asked him as soon as she's in her seat and lean on the table with both of her hands propped on her chin.

"Well, not long, more or less 10 minutes." The journalist smile sheepishly. "Anyway..." He pull out his notebook, voice recording and a pen."Let us start with, how long you know Damian Wayne?"

"Well...since I was freshly involved in this industry, Mr Wayne offered me to promote myself at Gala." Raven calmly answer as she tried to cover Damian from being involve with fashion drawing class back in those days.

Jon then stopped the voice recording which made her jolted then adjust his specs. "You are the one who have the same class with him right?"

Raven almost gasped but she quickly act nonchalant as she tried to deny it . "Are you try to dig something from me, Mr Kent?"

"Ah, yes. Such as wanted to know more about Dami's secret girl." He smiled.

Dami? Her eyebrow arched as she heard the name. Why in the world he would address Damian that way? "You must be mistaking. We were only in term of business."

"Seriously? I thought you guys were serious." He's moping. "He did ask me about how to flirt a girl too. Man, he's really an emotional constipated." He laughed. "Besides, Dami said he haven't meet her in 3 years after he's graduated."

Raven with her eyes wide as she heard it from him. "HOW DID YOU KNOW ALL THAT?!" She quickly rised from the desk.

Jon jolted as he seen her reaction. " Ah, I guess that's why he keep a secret about his girl." Sweat drop start to rolled down on his forehead. "I'm sorry for making you uncomfortable. Let me introduce myself again."

Jon straighten his back and stretch his hand. "Hi, I'm Jonathan Kent. Dami' s childhood friend and school mate, same goes with roommate at uni and currently, a journalist." He smiled.

Raven tried to process all the information at once and it takes a few moment. "So, you are Damian's close friend?" She point out with as she narrowed her eyes.

"That's right!" Jon's smile getting wider.

"Ah, hello." She slowly put her hands on him which Jon grab it and makes a several shake as he excited to met her.

"It's really pleasure to meet you by the way! For sure if Maya and Colin knew about you they will be screaming or teasing him saying Dami has finally grown up!" He laughed.

Raven sit on her chair with unsure feeling. First the confession, then his childhood friend meet her, and then what? A wedding? She press her lips into a thin line.

"You know, Dami is not that kind of guy when it comes to women. He always thought they were hyenas." Jon chuckled.

"Hyenas?" Raven puzzled. "What's with hyenas?"

"Ever since he lives in Gotham, he always seen his father been in and out with other women who prey for money. Still, poor him having lack of parent's love." Jon sighed.

That explain why he's being hard on anyone. Raven attentively listen to Jon's story. "You know, he has pets like a zoo at his house. From cow to snakes. I remember when I came, This Alfred the cat always sulking and threaten to scratch me."

"An animal lover? That much?" Both of Raven's eyebrow jumpy as she heard it. She could imagine if Damian standing on the field, as birds will land on him, it either makes him look like Disney princess or a scarecrow.

"Most of them are animal rescue." Jon nodded.

"I see..." Then Raven suddenly remember something. "How did Damian took fashion drawing class by the way?"

"Actually we suggested to him. I mean seriously, you haven't seen his potrait and figure drawing, Those are amazing! He most likely to observe the surrounding and draw on his sketch book while on his free time."

Wait. Does that means Damian has a secret sketch book like her? Raven unconsciously put her hands on her lips.

"Still, what makes you suspect it was me? I mean we haven't contact it for a while."

"Other than he told me that he haven't met her in three years, I've seen a drawing that looks just like you at his studio." Jon smiled.

There it is.

Raven sighed and there's a slightly red tint on her ears.

"Why you haven't contact him when he's in middle east?" Jon asked curious question.

"It was because when I know that he's Damian Wayne, I..I was screwed. I mean, Wayne as in Wayne Enterprise. The biggest contributor on east side. Me? I'm just, just an orphan girl who try to rise my own feet."

"Oh?"

"My mother died when I was 14. I still don't know who were my father is and all I got is this necklace from my mother." She showed the necklace to Jon.

The young journalist seems to be fasinating with it's design. "I wonder where did your mother got this?"

Raven sighed as she try to remember. " I'm not sure. All I remember that it's been in heritage for years."

"I see." Jon rubbed his chin. "Well, Maybe you should hang up with us sometimes. I'm sure Colin and Maya would love to see you." He smiled.

"The thing is, Jon. I'm still unclear about between us." Raven chewed her lips.

"Ah nonsense, he really likes you. I can see from the way he look at you."

"Is it? Wait, where did you saw him see me?"

"I think it was two day before?"

Raven slap both of her cheeks. OH MY GOD, HE SAW BOTH OF US KISSING.

"And don't worry. I won't tell a soul, though, I've been warn by him and probably will be dig out by Colin and Maya." Jon widen his smile as sweat start to rolled down on his cheek."Dami has been my friend of more than a decade. I understand the way he express himself."

Raven nodded slowly. " Jon, a question."

"Yeah?"

"Since you are a journalist, do you know anything about Melchior?" Raven voice change to serious tone.

"That Silver Blond guy?"

"Yeah."

" I heard he's having collaboration with a big company. However, another speculation I heard that he choose Gotham because of its mysterious aesthetic."

"Well, uh, there's something I heard during interview. He claimed that we were close during the fashion show competition."

Raven as stared at the desk.

"Been wondering myself too. Are you close to him?" Jon's curious eyes start to lit.

"We do only for a while but the thing is he stole my design during that time which I never forgive myself for letting me get fooled by him." Raven sighed then she looked at Jon. "Wait. Don't tell me you're going to put this on paper?"

"Wait, I get it." Jon again propped his hand on his chin. "No wonder I've seen familiarity design between both of you. Plus you're having a hard time too."

"Uh, Jon?"

"I think I found something to investigate." Jon's mischievous smiles start to paint on his face.

"Now you act like Damian."

"Damian is more hardcore. I'm still on the average level." Jon beamed his happy face on her.

"Well, I think our interview stopped here. Besides, I need to cover some story from Me Wayne itself about the gala."

"Dami?"

"Yep."

"So, nice to meet you, Ms. Rachel Roth. It's been a pleasure talking to you."

"It's been a pleasure to spill tea with you." Raven smug.

Jon blinked then put on his mischievous smile.

-------

Somewhere in his office, Damian sneezed for no reason. " Is it me or is this office are getting colder?" He looked at the air ventilation.

[kaypeace21]

Do you think that the hellfire club is a D&D group or some sport team or what do you think it is? (BTW big fan of your theories)

I think it’s a d&d club. I talked about it in past posts.I think being about d&d makes sense since the game would foreshadow future plot points- like it did in prior seasons . And the “hellfire club” is even an X-men group relating to the dark Phoenix which was referenced in s1 by Will . And I think they’ll take inspiration from that comic book arc for future seasons too . (So it’s an eastergg) . But, also , being called “the hellfire club” is probably an inside joke with the club members- since in the 80s, adults claimed d&d was about devil worship.)

In Bts photos- one of the members has a ‘Wasp’ pin which is a heavy metal band formed in 1982 -so the club is not so shockingly confirmed to be into rock.Along with d&d (if the leaks are legit) . Makes sense since both things are part of counter culture that was demonized by the “satanic panic” in the 80s. In the 80s. D&d (similar to rock music) was believed to be satanic - so the club name (for the club members)is a joke making fun of these people who think that’s true . But also (as a show is) another dark Phoenix ref . One of the s4 movies ‘paradise lost’  (was about a real life case) of small town teens   who were into punk music, horror movies, stephen king, wore black,  into wicca, and accused of being gay. They were unfairly blamed for ‘ satanic child m**ders (in the woods & near a river). They weren’t guilty . But, because ‘satanic panic’ was still alive and well ...the town’s people used their hobbies/ punk look/ and perceived sexualities as ‘proof” they were guilty. The case was later described as a ‘witch hunt’. Meanwhile the other (more likely suspect) at the time was John “Mark” Byers- who was a hunter, had a thing for hunting knives, religious, admitted to hitting his kids, and was  accused of s**ually abusing his son, shot pumpkins (s2 ref), and sang a song about creating a portal to another world without light , that you could enter via a tree (s1 ref). Years later-after the doc- it’s implied he wasn’t guilty either. But, one of the other victims’ fathers - Terry was assumed to be guilty - he was also was accused of m***esting his son and daughter (by his own family members). Admitted to hitting his wife and kids. And had a police report filed on him - describing breaking into a women’s house , while she was in a tub and trying to attack her. He was also formerly charged for m*rdering one of his wife’s family members- but got away with it claiming self defense). Heck if the names John byers/Terry being in the film/st wasn’t crazy enough- the victims were named Steve, Michael, and Chris byers (luckily ours don’t have that same horrible fate/back stories).

I kind of assume - the d&d club will be looked at suspiciously as teens go missing/ kidnapped/ or maybe found k*lled in the woods/quarry. And the cops/others think they’re “satanic k*llings” and rumors about the d&d club insue. And maybe our teens suspect it’s the demogorgan again. But as a subversion- it isn’t and it’s a human . A human that by ab*sing Will- caused Will to unconsciously create many things including the demogorgan (which in d&d is called the “deep father”) . Also, in s3 they called Will “the devil’s baby” (Aka lonnie is the real “devil” ).And such incidents in the woods/ near the quarry would connect back to s1 demogorgan & Will being found in the quarry. And if paying attention you already noticed s1 demogorgan paralleled Lonnie a lot! So s4 would start bringing things to the surface- in regards to how evil Lonnie really is.Not to mention more hints (I previously posted) that hinted they’ll go with this “ch*ld serial ki##er plot line...

But then again I think it may not be literally Lonnie. My guess: Brenner (who I think was created/based on lonnie) is possibly doing failed experiments of teens to open portals (in the basement of pethurst -like in hellraiser 2) . And dumping failed experiments in the woods/water. A few movies had the d*ad victims have numbers carved in them. And then El/kali team up and maybe sneak into the facility (like in ace Ventura people posing as siblings investigate a m*rder and one fakes being ‘crazy’ to sneak in and find a murderer) . In ‘peanut butter solution’ 2 kids - 1 of them is goth/not american teams up with a girl to find a man named ‘senior ‘who is kidnapping kids. 1 of them also sneaks in and is captured on purpose to investigate. Kali already busted Dottie out of a psych hospital and lucas referenced El being there in s1. Alexi (like el-another alter of Will) watches roadrunner- in that papa bear throws him in a psych facility. And assasains creed/dream warriors - the psychiatric facility was similar to the lab with sensory deprivation tanks, cameras, solitary confinement in dark rooms. We already know 1 new character is against the mistreatment of people at the facility. Also the real pethurst (in Pennsylvania) -known for human rights a*use issues- wasn’t a psych facility (but a place for people with intellectual disabilities). So El being at the psych hospital version in Indianna (and maybe having id herself like I mentioned before -would be a nice ref). And in assasains creed- when the character starts sneaking around investigating - the dr reveals how the character is actual the reincarnation of their ancestor ( brenner tells el she’s an alter of Will’s ). And before that the dr was making that person relive the traumatic past of their past life/other person -which they couldn’t change (sort of like el seeing Billy’s past in s3). Also kali said her and El should team up to face their father- which I think they’ll do. And I’m excited about it!

I still think brenner was created by Will and based on Lonnie so he could be responsible and connected to Will/Jon’s backstory with Lonnie/the Woods. In an abstract way. Like how brenner/Lonnie forced their kids to k*ll animals. Brenner threw El in a dark room/ Lonnie threw Will in a trunk. Brenner’s name being associated with the woods and Lonnie being a hunter , etc.

Also we know s4 involves this dark-storyline involving c**ld m*rders cause of foreshadowing

* Also, mentioned here how in s4 rolling a 11 isn’t actually a good thing and that it’s a callback to Will rolling a 7- in s1. Before things go array.In “paradise lost” when blaming the innocent goth boys someone asks the chief “on a scale 1 to 10 how confident are you? You have the right men?” And he laughs and says “11.”

*And , just for historical context of how ‘metal ‘ and ‘scary ‘ d&d was to nonplayers (in the 80s).

“In 1985, 60 Minutes dedicated a full hour to the supposed connection between D&D, Satanic rites, murders and su*cides . 2 years earlier, Patricia Pulling formed Bothered About Dungeons and Dragons (BADD) . She described D&D as ‘a fantasy role-playing game which leads to demonology, witchcraft, voodoo, murder, r*pe, blasphemy, suicide, assassination, insanity, sex perversion, homosexuality, pr*stitution, satanic type rituals, gambling, barbarism, cannibalism, sadism, desecration, demon summoning, necromantics, divination and other teachings.’ In 1987, Peter Leithart and George Grant published The Catechism of the New Age, a pamphlet where they introduced the idea that D&D was immoral because roleplaying allowed too much freedom for critical thinking, which might lead to heretical ideas. That same year, Chris Pritchard and two friends conspired to murder Pritchard’s stepfather in his sleep, the media ignored the obvious financial motivation and instead focused on the men being in the same D&D group.”

( I think quite a few of those themes will come up in s4/5 - although d&d isn’t the actual cause). It’ll just be a subversion.

[whentherewerebicycles]

hey ummm im tipsy too because it's my flatmate's birthday and I'm literally a lesbian woman but sometimes I worry I might not be lesbian and it scares me because I'm scared of men but sometimes I think a man is attractive (like my flatmate) and idk why I'm msging you about that, sorry if it's weird. but you seem to have very valuable insights about life that not many others have (somehow?? idk?) and I respect and appreciate that.

oh it’s not weird! i think one thing i have learned is that it is 100% okay and healthy to hold your own sense of who you are lightly, and to not feel so attached to a particular label that you don’t allow yourself lots of space to grow and change as you have new experiences or meet new people who bring out different facets of yourself. to me the label of ‘lesbian’ is not an Essential and Immutable Truth about who i am (ie something that can never shift or change over time). instead, using that label speaks to a decision i’ve made about how i want to orient myself in the world, how i want others to perceive and interact with me, and where i choose to channel my energy & attention.

when i first came out i spent many, many years feeling like i had to justify and “prove” that i was “really” a lesbian and that i was ~~~pure~~~ of any flickers of attraction or interest in men (there’s a conversation about internalized biphobia to be had there, but we’ll save it!!). i have described this phase (which i think characterizes many young or newly out lgbtq people’s experiences) as “the push,” because for me it was basically like, to get myself emotionally, intellectually, and socially free of the rigid constraints of compulsory heterosexuality, i had to PUSH really, really hard, to get enough distance between myself and all of that stuff. i had to shove it as far away from me as possible to lessen the chance that it would suck me back in. that was a normal and necessary part of moving into a more openly queer identity, and for many women who identify as lesbian the “push” involves completely disavowing any past interest in men or relationships with men or emotional attachments to men.

the push isn’t a bad thing! like i said, i think it is quite necessary at first, especially since women are subject to even more of the “are you sure? i mean, you’re not really gay, right? maybe you just haven’t met the right guy / maybe it’s just a phase / maybe you just couldn’t get a guy to like you / maybe you’re just afraid of men so you’re pretending you like women” bullshit than gay men are. but it’s a phase that i think most people eventually are ready to move out of (well, unless you are on twitter, and then you just live in the wake of the push forever and ever i guess). and that’s because it can be quite an intense and anxious headspace to live in, as you often feel a lot of pressure to “figure yourself out” (ie pin down what exactly you are -- are you a “real” lesbian or not?), as well as a lot of pressure to prove to yourself as much as to other people that you are who you say you are, or whatever. so it’s stressful to live there, and it also requires you to draw a lot of really hard-and-fast lines (like, “this is what a REAL lesbian is, and i’m only REAL if i follow all of these rules or check off all of these boxes all the time, and if i slip up maybe i’m not actually a lesbian, and i’m lying to myself and everyone else”).

over time i’ve come to hold my own identity more lightly, and to demand less certainty and fewer fixed answers of myself (and of others, too!). the identity label i use doesn’t really matter all that much to me - what matters is 1) that i am able to arrange my life and relationships in a way that makes me happy, and 2) that others respect the choices i make (something that’s not always within our control). right now, “lesbian” is the word that i like best as a descriptor, but i also know that labels are very, very generic categories that almost have to be emptied of specificity and nuance in order to encompass a very wide range of people. to borrow & repurpose a phrase from the transfeminist theorist emi koyama: there are as many ways of being a lesbian as there are lesbians. lesbian is just a general catchall umbrella category for an incredibly diverse range of lived experiences, histories, self-understandings, sexual and romantic choices, life narratives, etc etc.

if lesbian is the word that works for you or feels like the closest approximation to how you want to identify & be perceived by others, then call yourself a lesbian! it is completely and totally fine to be a lesbian who sometimes finds men attractive, or who finds herself attracted to a specific male friend. there’s nothing wrong with that! personally, i am a lesbian who has had important emotional and physical relationships with men in the past, and it’s possible that in the future maybe i’ll meet someone who i really click with who happens to be a man. it’s not maybe something that i would go looking for, and if it did happen, it would certainly prompt some soul-searching, as does any new experience that surprises us or complicates the stories we tell ourselves about who we are and what we want. but holding my identity labels and my sense of self loosely means that i don’t have to feel as threatened by the possibility of changing desires or a shifting understanding of who i am & how i want to arrange my life.

my real true belief is that the vast majority of people are probably capable of forming deep emotional and physical attachments to any kind of person, if the circumstances were right and the person was the right person at the right time and we were open to the possibility of an attachment. i think that very few human traits or preferences are ‘hardwired’ into us in fixed and unchangeable ways. in general, most of our traits are influenced by a combination of nature and nurture, or genetics + experience. so like, idk, maybe some of us who are born cis women are slightly more predisposed than other people to find other women attractive. but nurture, lived experiences, environment, social and culture influences, and the stories we tell ourselves about who we are all play a much, much more important role in determining how we make sense of that predisposition, and whether we come to use words like “lesbian” to identify ourselves. so the type of rigid, stridently defended boundaries or definitions we often feel the need to invoke & defend during the "push” are even less useful here, because how could a fixed set of black-and-white labels (which, btw, only emerged in the last 100-130 years) possibly encompass or account for the wonderful heterogeneity of human experience?

anyway i guess this is all a very long way of saying that i think your worry is completely understandable, and certainly something i spent many years of my own life feeling! but i also think it can be nice to hear from other queer women that there’s a place a little further beyond that, which is basically just this realization: i am who i am, and i accept myself as i am right now, while also understanding that “who i am” will continue to evolve & change my whole life long. you are a lesbian if you say you are a lesbian, and if you want to have a crush on your male flatmate or find a male celebrity attractive or even try pursuing something with a male partner, that’s okay: it doesn’t mean your lesbianism isn’t real, or that you are now going to be pulled back into a compulsory heterosexuality you worked hard to push yourself away from.

but it also doesn’t mean that lesbianism is where you have to stay forever, just because that’s where you’ve landed or what has felt right for you up until now. it’s completely okay, normal, and healthy to allow yourself that space to change. maybe you’ll move into a phase of your life where “bisexual” or “queer” or “pan” will feel like a closer approximation or a better shorthand for how you understand yourself & want others to understand you. or maybe you’ll come to find some other word that you like better, or maybe you’ll decide that you don’t even want or need a word to live your life the way you want. the point is that you aren’t fixed in place. you are free to explore and to experiment and to try out different ways of orienting yourself in the world. and you should do so, in ways that feel exciting and affirming and right for you.

[namtanlovesfilm]

axelle judges non bl shows > Chuamong Tong Mon

shitty summary: Cyn is struggling to make enough money to support her brother, her step-sister and her step-mother while being abused by the two women. Her horrible and painful life seems to be on the look up when she gets possessed by Mark, the ghost of an entertainment company’s CEO.

where to watch: dailymotion

grade: 8/10

pros:

- the characters were lovely. cyn could’ve been a super boring perfect main character but actually I think they did a great job showing her “perfection” as actually being flaws that manifested themselves throughout the show so she was easy to like and empathize with. mark was an icon and frankly carried the whole show. mate was a cutie omg, again kinda “perfect” main character but just quirky enough that I really liked him :)

- a main female character that’s not stick thin (nothing wrong with it btw, just pointing out how it’s the thai drama norm), that’s actually a bit tan AND both of these traits are not commented on or mocked??? I frankly thought I was dreaming, the whole time I was waiting for them to insult her and when it never happened I felt sooooo happy which... is kinda sad in itself tbh. sure, cyn’s character is supposed to not be super attractive but still, I’ll still take the fact that they didn’t belittle her & ride this happiness until I die lmao

- this show honestly has some great lessons about dealing with grief, not being too nice, unlikely friendships, etc. &... honestly there were some moments I was pretty damn moved, almost cried a couple of times.

- the ship was super cute, I really loved how respectful they were of each other and that most of the show is a game of push and pull with one another.

- also they had cyn carry mate, like... full on carry his full ass tall man weight as a short woman and it was shown as cute & romantic??? and I’ve seen the trope used in two kdramas before, and it’s always bc the woman has insane strength compared to the man but here cyn doesn’t, she just has regular strength and is carrying her wounded man and frankly... that was so pure & cute and changed so much from usual thai dramas where the woman always needs to be protected by the man like a poor fragile being. it was nice to see that it went both ways & frankly I adore that scene, it was so cute!!!

- the show was fun and entertaining, even if each episode was 2 hours long (yes I’m insane)

- kinda super specific to off jumpol’s fans, but... off playing a ship with leo saussay :)))

- the acting was good except for mark (see the cons), and I feel like the actors both did great in over the top funny scenes as well as more emotional scenes, especially mate’s actor towards the end of the show, loved it.

cons:

- what’s a lakorn without its villains, right? well here the villains were so damn over the top I wanted to punch their faces in a couple of times. which I guess is the goal, but take it down a notch please lmao

- the whole show feels pretty childish tbh, which again I’m pretty sure is the point but yeah it did feel like I was watching a show for 13 years old at times which also constrated greatly with some of the heavier tones of the show. I think it should’ve picked a demographic and stuck fully to it instead of doing this half & half thing.

- as much as it pains me bc I really like mark as a character, his actor’s acting... wasn’t really it for me. it wasn’t terrible either & I genuinely felt like in the last few eps he’d gotten better, but it did throw me off a lot during the show bc he would be smiling instead of looking sad & I was disturbed lmao

- as most thai shows, sadly this one also portrays more effeminate gay men as inherently flirty, seductive and frankly bordering on harrassment which obviously fucking sucks & needs to stop. I’m not saying they can’t ever have an effeminate gay man be flirty, but it being the only representation of effeminate gay men in thai media is definitely problematic. especially since here it’s on a show that promotes equality and love towards others.

would I rewatch: probably not bc it’s hella long

Overall this was pretty fun & I did like how different from usual lakorns it seems to be. It had some good social commentary & also advice and I really enjoyed the characters. It’s not the best show ever but I would still recommend it!

[jediknightmcardle]

Suns of Tattooine

My first fic. I am marking this Explicit NSFW 18+ because of the smut in later chapters and the cussing. I want to Thank @nightsisterct7567​ for her help and encouragement, with out you this wouldn’t of happened. 

I would like to hear everyone’s thoughts on this. I hope you enjoy!

Suns of Tattooine, Chapter 1

Just like before, this time will be no different. When the drop ship comes in for a landing, you know that no one will be waiting for you. Your fellow soldiers and brothers all have wives, kids, parent’s, hell one even has his Aunt and Uncle coming to see him. For you though, nothing. Not that it upsets you, you are used to it. It’s been this way since you first left your home planet, when the call came out to help the Republic. You heard that call and was part of a non-clone unit assigned to fight the CIS.  

On this return back, this was for a block leave for your unit. After spending months on the front backing up clone units on Christophsis. We didn’t have a luxury of special training or fancy armor that the clones had. Hell, we didn’t even have a Jedi to lead us. Our Commander was one of us, except he bought his commission and had little to no combat experience.  

After all that hard fighting, we finally get a few weeks off to blow off steam. First place you go is your tiny apartment in town. Dump your bag and hit the shower.  

“Kriff... how long has it been since you have felt warm water on your body”.  

After taking a shower long enough to use up the hot water in the place, it was time to get out to your favorite drinking hole. Not a flashy place by any means, actually more like a dump but the drinks are cheap and everyone leaves you alone.  

Last time you were home, no one bothered you about the war, last thing you want is to talk about it. They wouldn’t understand even if you told them. Most people only want to hear about the Jedi and Clones anyway, they have their own following too.  

You arrive at Screed’s; still looks like the dump you remember from the last time you were home. You enter the bar and try and find a place to sit, preferably alone. Motion to the bartender for a drink, Nik knows you from over the years and knows that you order the same thing every time. Just as you like it, no extra talking.  

Nik hands your drink off to the waitress, who proceeds to bring it over and place it in front of you. “Thanks”, as she puts it down. “Don’t mention it handsome, it’s not every day we have a war hero in here”. You sigh, “yeah big hero alright”. You think to yourself, “can’t she just not do this right now”.  

A couple hours and a few drinks later, you start to feel a little more “human”. Even have had a couple quick conversations with people in the bar, mostly about what is going on here. Moisture farming mostly. Ugh moisture farming, before the war that is what you did. Helped out on a couple farms just outside of town. You joined up to fight to get out of this place. Yet here you are, back home again.  

As you sit and dwell on your thoughts, the door opens and figure stands in the door. You look over to catch a glimpse, the person appears to be female but you can’t really tell because of the sun glare coming in the door.  

“In or out, but you need to get out of the door” yells over the bartender. Just then the figure makes its way into the establishment. As the door closes you get a better look, you almost drop your drink. It was indeed a woman, but not just any woman. Possibly one of the most beautiful women you have laid eyes on. Flowing red hair with the most striking eyes.  

“Have I been in combat too long?” you think to yourself as you continue to stare at her as she walks down to the bar. She glances over and notices you staring at her, but doesn’t pay it no mind. It’s not like you are the only one looking, at once everyone in the establishment stopped and collectively stared at her.  

As she approached the bartender, she reached into pouch on her belt and pulled out a holo disk.  

“Barkeep, have you seen this man” she asks as she lights up the holo disk. “No, no I haven’t. He hasn’t come in here. It’s all regulars in here.” She turns from the bar, with the holo disk still going. Looking around the bar, “1000 credits for anyone who can tell me where I can find him” she says out loud. The response is mostly grumbling and they go back to their drinks. She notices you looking over and checking her out. “Hey you, have you seen this guy?” she asks as she heads towards you. Quickly you focus back on your drink.  

“Kriff, why me? Why does she need to bother me.” You think to yourself.

“No, I haven’t seen that guy, I just want to be left alone.” you say out loud to her. She stops right at the edge of your table, and looks right at you. “Are you sure friend? You didn’t take much of a look.” she says to you. You continue staring at your drink, not daring to look up at her knowing full well that she is by far one of the most beautiful women you have seen and don’t want to embarrass yourself.  

“No, no, no, she can’t be that beautiful, it’s your mind playing tricks on you. Has to be. Maybe the sun has bleached your brain” Has to be that you think to yourself.  

SMACK, you get jolted out of your thoughts as she slams her hand down on the table. “Look buddy, I’m talking to you. There are a lot of credits if you could help me out.”.  

You sigh deeply, and start to look up at her, you notice she is wearing armor with some sort of jump suit under it. Almost Mandalorian ish but not really, and missing the helmet for sure. As your eyes keep moving up, you notice the curves in her hips first, then her chest. You don’t know how she keeps those breasts in that top but my gods. You finally look at her face and the first thing you notice is her eyes, her pale skin and flowing red hair.  

SMACK, again she smacks the table and you come back to reality. “Look buddy you’re not the first guy to check me out like that, but I’m not here to get laid. I want to get paid, so how about you help a girl out and tell me where he is?”  

You take a swig from your drink, wipe your mouth then motion to the bartender to send over another drink. “Look doll, I can give you some advice. I would keep yourself covered up here.” She looks back stunned, “Why? Do you think someone might try and man handle me?” she laughs out loud. “I have dealt with my share of men, meaner than anyone in this dust bowl.” she snorts back. “No doll, I mean because with the twin suns here, your pale skin will burn in about a minute out there. But if you want to walk around with your skin out, by all means go ahead.” you chuckle back at her.  

She steps back, with a bit of a shocked look on her face. Like she isn’t use to guys talking to her as a human being. “Well, um. Thanks. BTW where did you serve?” she says as she nods to the tattoo on your left arm. “Christophsis, we were brought in to support the 501st and the 212th clone battalions. I am just on leave and scheduled to go back to the front in a couple weeks.” you explain.  

The bartender interrupts the tention by bringing over a couple drinks and puts them down on the table. “Well looks like the man has brought you a drink, I guess you should pull up a seat and join me. You can tell me about where you are from and how you became a bounty hunter.” as you motion to the chair beside her.  

For the next couple hours, you both ended up chatting it up, trading war stories. Lots of laughing and comparing visible scars. You both lose track of the outside world while you drink and talk.  

“My gods she’s beautiful, why would she be still here talking to me, you think to yourself. I must be hallucinating” you think.  

“What makes you think your bounty is here?” you ask.  

She looks surprised as if she almost forgot she was on the job and not out for a good time. “We first my tracking fob brought me here, but he booked passage thru this system and I think he stayed. Trying to throw me off his trail.” She speaks. “Why did you come back here instead of going to another system like Scarif or Naboo?”  

“Well, those are the systems the clones go to, I don’t want to be around them. I have to fight with them but I want my time for me. Plus, have you seen how women go gaga over them? Makes me sick.” you reply with a disgusted look on your face.  

As you look at her, she giggles. “Yeah, I know all about it. They are kind of cute though.....” as she laughs. You look back down at your drink and say “This is why I came here, I figured if I want to be lonely, I should just go home instead of somewhere else in a crowd of people. At least here people will leave me alone because that’s what we do here, not drooling over some guys made in a test tube.”  

“Kriff stop feeling sorry for yourself” you think. “This is not what she would want to hear.”

“What were you planning to do after you were done here at the bar?” she asks.  

“I don’t know, haven’t really thought that far yet. Maybe go to the edge of town, slaughter some Jawa’s?” you say with a chuckle.  

She looks a little concerned at first, but then realizes the joke in your tone.  

“To be honest, I planned to come here, drink then go home and crash. Rinse and repeat daily” with a bit more of a serious tone this time. “My plans though are out the window as I never planned to meet a beautiful woman today”.  

You both stop and look at each other, “Kriff what did I just say, dumbass, why would you say that? Now she is going to think you are a weirdo.” you think to yourself.  

As you look up at her, you notice she starts to crack a bit of a smile. “Well show me this woman, I would love to meet her.” she says while smiling. You crack a bit of a smile after that comment. “Look let’s get out of here, I hear the setting of the twin suns is something to behold and I have never seen it before” she comments.  

You think to yourself,” ugh I have seen these hundreds of times, but I guess we should.”