#but having had sex with a lot of men most of them are completely worthless to me and thats not even like. an i hate men thing its just true

[sn4kebites]

the whole “ugly privilege” convo is interesting as someone who is conventionally unattractive AND a hijabi but i think calling it a privilege is a crazy thing to do 💀 like it’s certainly not

like its true that i experience significantly less unwanted male attention in public and i tend to mesh in the background which is in a way nice since its one avenue im not a target of harassment most of the time. its rare i feel especially in danger when im alone even at night

but its also like so inherently dehumanizing to interact w men outside of that so calling it a privilege is insane anfnaj

also like. my situation is a little different because i was actively seeking out sexual exploitation but in many aspects me being ugly didnt seem to stop men from being aggressive w me / harassing or coming onto me unwarranted for sex if the opportunity arose lol

[pussy-free-forever]

PUSSY FREE FOREVER

PUSSY FREE FOREVER! My name is loren and I am 52 years old. I have been in a cuckold relationship for almost 10 years. I get questions all the time from girlfriends and male partners about being married to a man that is pussy free. I tell them that being pussy free is the whole point of being a cuckold. True cuckolds are submissive and only want the mistress to be sexually satisfied.

Cucks find the longing and craving for pussy without the ability to have sex, addicting. It’s the responsibility of the Mistress to make sure the cuck can’t pleasure a pussy, including hers. Most Mistresses ween their cuck off pussy early in the lifestyle. There is no reason for a cuchold to fuck. The term Pussy Free is fairly new within the cuckold community. But it describes perfectly the state of the cuckold. Cuckolds give up their right to pussy when they decide to become a cuck. A true cuck has no issue with it. He knows he could not satisfy his Mistress or any other women, so he doesn’t even try. Why is a cuck so much different than a real man? I would say it’s because cucks see themselves as useless to a woman sexually. There are many reasons for this, they may have problems with getting erections, a small penis, they may be sterile and don’t ejaculate. My husband was all of the above. He was on the small side, lost his erections often and was unable to really shoot any sperm.

As I learned more and more about cuckolding and how the pleasure of the Mistress is the focus of the relationship, I became more aware of the power of having a ruined cuck. Ruining the cuck is a process some Mistresses draw a lot of enjoyment from. The idea is to cause the cuck to be unable to stimulate the Mistress sexually or any female. The Mistress gets a great peice of mind and satisfaction that her cuck will always remain pussy free. I would make comments to my cuck all the time that he needed to have his little useless testicles removed. I wanted them removed as a trophy to me. When I am out having great sex with a well hung guy it makes me excited to know that I made my cuck a Eunuch. Plus, it helps him keep his Pussy Free commitment. I love the feeling of thinking about him not having his little clit in a pussy for years now. I know many would think I am mean or cruel, but you need to understand the cuckold lifestyle. The wife fucks real men with great cocks and heavy balls. The cuck, waits at home and rubs his clit, while thinking about how hard his wife is getting fucked, he loves that way more than having intercourse. He waits for his reward, a sperm filled pussy to eat.

It was great having my cuck neutered, he improved dramatically, more sweet, loving and supportive. His testicles were small but still making some testosterone. Once gone it’s great. He hardly looks at women when we are out. One side effect? He loves cock now. I like it, but some women might find it a little weird. He is not interested in pussy. He likes to clean me up after dates, but I know he just wants the cum.

A while back he started showing me pics of cucks having their dick heads cut off. I was freaked out at first, but once I talked to cucky about it I started to get it. He told me that the head was very sensitive and that’s where most of the pleasure comes from during sex. I had never really thought of it, but that head is what feels good during sex in my pussy, and it’s the part I like to suck when giving a blow job. What’s the difference I love his nut less crotch. So, If we cut the head of the snake he will not be capable of ever entering a pussy. He would finally be completely worthless to me and any woman as a man. That is awesome. Pussy free guaranteed. So, I agreed totally with the concept. I loved the idea of snipping the head off.

It’s been a few months now since we had the head removed. I love the look for him. He is a true Eunuch now. No balls, No nasty little dick head. Just a short little shaft. The foreskin covers the stub, so it looks natural, you wouldn’t know the head is gone. But, when the skin is pulled back you can see a flat stub end. I love it. He can still have orgasm, he can stroke the short shaft and bring an orgasm. He is completely ruined. Pussy Free Forever. 

[thirstyforlulu]

They kidnap reader / fem / omega of alucard / alpha, when it is in heat, then alucard goes after his kidnappers and saves you, a lot of blood and sex.

Most people know better than to fuck with what belongs to Alucard

Even an old pen is safe if it belongs to him

Your scent permeated through the entire manor, making every other alpha hot under the collar

No matter how badly they wanted to go after you, they knew better

Alucard would rip them to shreds if he caught even the slightest scent on you

He knew you were in heat, but unfortunately he had to go to work

It was painful to leave you there, his pants felt so unbearably tight

You whined as the door to your room shut behind

The promise that he’d return and turn you inside out was the only thing keeping you sane

You curled up under the blankets, making yourself a little nest where you could wait for him

Sleep was all you could think of to occupy the time, but you were way too horny

His smell was still present on the pillows and covers, you buried your face in them to keep you calm

That helped you a little, but you never did fall completely asleep

That’s why when someone pulled you from your bed, you were already half awake

You tried to fight them as they dragged you away and into some truck, but your heat had made you weak

They took you to a warehouse and tied you to a chair then they set up a camera in front of you

Meanwhile, Alucard was dealing with the aftermath of the raid

All the stragglers had been dealt with, he was now assessing the damage and trying to figure out what their goal had been

The men he killed told him nothing, they did a good job of keeping their plan a secret

The majority of them had come in through the front, but he suspected that was a diversion

He was calm, until he saw the boot tracks heading toward your room

Dropping everything he ran to check on you, when he found the door ajar he lost his shit

“Y/N?!” He yelled as he ran in, nearly tearing the door off its hinges as he pushed it out of his way

The room was a mess, it was clear they’d taken you

He knew then that the attack at the front was nothing but a diversion, you were the real target

On the nightstand was your phone, when he picked it up he saw several missed video calls

When he called them back, he was met with a video of you tied to a chair with several cuts and bruises on your face

“Finally! We were wondering when you’d figure it all out,” a voice came from behind the camera

You looked up, giving Alucard such a pitiful look

“So, I suspect you have some demands for me?” Alucard began

“Clever vampire, we need you to kill the surviving members of the Hellsing organization, in return we’ll give back your omega,” the man explained

“How childish, you went through all that trouble, and my poor y/n had to suffer.”

“Are you saying you won’t do as we say?”

“Of course not.”

“Well then that’s fine, you’ll come around I’m sure, and while we wait I think we’ll play around with your omega. She’s in heat, we’ll help her deal with that,” the same said, reaching out and grabbing your head

You yelped, his fingers digging into your scalp

Alucard hung up, unable to stand another second

He would have no trouble finding you, when it comes to you he’s a bloodhound

It only took him a few minutes to get to the warehouse

It took even less time for him to kill everyone guarding the doors

The room you were in was off to the side, more than likely an old office

He kicked open the door and found you surrounded by a group of men

When Alucard hung up the phone they quickly moved in on you, reaching out to take handfuls of your hair or attempting to kiss you

Some of them were alphas but they did nothing for you, their scent was nothing compared to Alucard

Seeing those men with their hands on you pissed him off to no end

He opted not to use his guns on them, instead he ripped them apart with his bare hands, wanting to make sure they suffered

You watched with growing excitement

He always looks so handsome and powerful when tearing people apart

When the final man fell, Alucard was covered in blood and breathing heavy

He was already worked up because of your heat, the fight added even more heat to the fire

You whimpered, trying to get closer to him but all you did was tip yourself over, falling to the floor at his feet

“Look at you, my poor neglected omega. I could smell you before I even walked in here, you must be in so much pain~” he teased, bending down to free you

The men from before did nothing for you

There were several alphas among them, but compared to yours they were worthless

Even when some of them exposed themselves you felt nothing, all it did was make you want him more

As the ropes fell from your sides, you quickly attempted to climb up Alucard’s body

Your hands desperately reached for his belts

All you could think of was him finally taking you

“Fuck, y/n. I need to bury my knot in you,” he said, lifting you up as soon as you had his pants unbuckled

Your pants were quickly pulled out of the way as his own fell to his ankles

There was no need for foreplay, your legs were dripping

Several drops fell onto his cock as he adjusted his grip on you

“Get ready,” he laughed in your ear

Without another warning he entered you, easily slipping inside thanks to your arousal

You shouted for joy, burying your head in his coat

There was so much you wanted to say, but your mind was too preoccupied

Drool dribbled out from your mouth, creating a wet spot on his chest, but no worries, he thought it was adorable

You bounced up and down from the force of his thrusts, forcing you to fall back down onto his cock and push it even further inside

His swelling knot spread your entrance slightly, not having enough force to fully slip inside

You wanted so badly for him to hurry up and put it in, but he wasn’t ready yet

“Please, please give me your knot,” you begged, tongue rolling to the side

“What was that my little omega?”

“Please, knot me. Alucard, my alpha I need you,” you cried

With a satisfied grin, he pushed you up against the nearest wall, using it to help him insert his knot

That heavenly feeling of being stretched flooded into you before it finally popped inside

“Yes!” You screamed

The added girth was too much, you came, squeezing hard on him which in turn finished him off

He bit your neck as he came, filling you as his knot continued to swell

As you two relaxed, he carried you over toward the chair and placed it upright

He set you down on the edge, holding you steady until his knot shrunk

While you waited, he kissed you, biting your lip and drawing a tiny bit of blood

Finally he got to taste something delicious, all the soldiers tasted nasty and sour

When he pulled out, his cock made a loud pop sound as the suction released, leaving you feeling so incredibly empty

You gave him your best puppy dog eyes and whined

“Don’t worry, your heat isn’t over yet. There will be plenty more chances for nights like these,” he said as he straightened himself up

He carried you out before the police could arrive and see the carnage

His shoes were a bloody mess, but it was nothing compared to the floor

[slasherscream]

A/N: shout-out to that one anon on bloodybrahms’ blog forever ago where they were like ginger fitzgerald x jennifer check x jd x reader. their mind?? i haven’t known peace since seeing the concept. 

coincidentally, you as well, will never know a moment of peace again. 

your relationship is overflowing with chaos. you can’t let your guard down for even a second because that’s the exact moment one of your partners will choose to strike and do some absolute bullshit™. it is imperative that you never take your eyes off them or leave any of them on their own. 

if you cannot stay with them at all times at least take care to make sure you never leave all three of them alone together. nothing good has ever come from you doing this.

you act as the impulse control for all three of your partners. they straight up don’t know how to act without you around. 

let’s talk about the chaotic dynamics and features of this relationship, shall we-

○ ginger and jennifer ....where to start. they dislike each other so much, both on the fundamental levels of their personalities and also as supernatural entities. werewolves and demons aren’t like…. natural enemies or anything but they can be Genuine Threats™ to one another so their hackles are always a little raised around each other.

○ that aside, jennifer is the exact type of girl ginger hated in high-school. she took one glance at jennifer and said "what a fucking vapid wanna-be barbie looking slut" and she hasn't changed her mind since. 

○ meanwhile, jennifer thinks ginger is just.... beneath her. she wouldn't have hated a girl like ginger back in high-school because she never would've fucking noticed her. once she is forced to acknowledge ginger as a sentient, living being due to your poly relationship she's just.... aggravated by her. if jennifer had to put into words what she doesn't like about the other girl it would be how fucking judgmental she is. absolutely rich coming from jennifer of all people but she's serious! you're gonna sit here.... and hate her.... because she's popular and sexy?? are you fucking twelve?? you mangy, pathetic, edgy, "i only listen to evanescence" ass bitch (and she means the bitch part literally.)

at best their relationship could MAYBE wind up like that exchange from jumanji: welcome to the jungle:

Professor Shelly Oberon : Seriously, I can't even open my mouth around you. You don't even know me, but you, like, decided you hate me.

Ruby Roundhouse : Look, I just think you live in, like, the "hot popular girl" bubble, you know, where everybody either treats you like a princess or like an object. Maybe it makes you a little self-absorbed or something?

Professor Shelly Oberon : That's fair. But do you think that maybe the reason why you are so judgy is because you are like afraid that people are not gonna like you, so you've decided not to like them first? I'm just saying, you're a babe, go with it.

but realistically they will never have a conversation this open and honest. they'll stick to bickering and being catty, thank you very much. occasionally they are so catty that they start literally fighting and yes, your house will get destroyed every time some shit pops off between them. please have everything insured. 

○ funnily enough they both like/love jd!! off the bat they both find him incredibly attractive. jennifer saw him and said "yummy.com, much?" ginger did not say anything but watched him like a hungry....well, wolf. honestly though looks weren't enough to keep either of them interested in someone when they were plain human and un-traumatized       let alone now. in fact, considering that jennifer is a succubus her finding jd hot only put him in danger adjkl.

○ lucky for him he was surprisingly resistant to her physical charm/succubus powers/allure when she first approached him, planning to make him her next meal. while she totally took his disinterest as a challenge because uhm?? are you fucking blind?? i'm a fucking buffet?? all i serve is looks?? it also made her respect him quite a bit. jennifer takes very few people seriously. her respecting someone so soon after meeting them is actually a way bigger deal than her liking them. 

○ jd takes some time to warm up to jennifer but not as much as you'd think? while he might roll his eyes at her popular, mean girl shtick he's very observant and sees that there's more to jennifer than meets the eye.

○ the fact that he doesn't immediately hop into her bed just because she sticks her chest out gives him enough time to see beneath her surface and surprises her enough that she let's him. there are plenty of things he likes about her. he admires the way she can just...bend the world to her will. when she wants something she gets it, no matter what. he loves that?? she's very dynamic and bold. excitement either follows her or she chases after it. and unlike a lot of charismatic or popular people jennifer lacks the one trait jd absolutely can't stand       being fake. jennifer doesn't hide the fact that she's a stone cold bitch. she always says exactly what she means or what's on her mind. overall jennifer is an addicting personality to have around and even jd falls for her charm eventually.

○ jennifer won't say it but realizing jd actually cares about her and likes her as a person is what makes her fall, you know       because she's a fucking narcissist... just kidding. it catches her off guard for someone to fall for her because of who she is and not what she looks like. it makes her vulnerable for just long enough that she sees all the things that are good about jd and BOOM, she's in love. now she's got two mates and one annoying hang around whom she also has sex with because she's not hideous (her mate, ginger is also her mate, she just likes ginger less than she likes the two of you.)

○ ginger loves jd's intensity. they're pretty much ' same hat! ' relationship wise.

ginger: men are fucking worthless jd: *walks around fucking unhinged* ginger: ....one man allowed 

○ she genuinely loves his personality and he genuinely loves hers right on back. they're kind of just...mirrors of each other in a lot of ways but there's just enough difference between them that they don't piss each other off. other than their tempers they get along really well because they think the same way?? have the same ideas?? want to do the same things?? kill the same people?? you know bonding shit. they're kind of perfect together? they completely understand one another. they are probably the most like-minded of the whole relationship, not the closest, but they think pretty much the exact same shit, i cannot emphasize this enough. they can make eye contact and know exactly what the other is thinking and they love that. lowkey best friends. highkey you cannot let them go on dates alone. 

○ where do you fit in here? uhm you're the glue and stability of this relationship. sure they all love or begrudgingly (and secretly) like each other but you're like.... gravity. essential and holding the world together, keeping everything balanced. you were probably the start of the relationship to begin with. they all knew you and were growing to love you separately and then each realized they had competition but while they were trying to fight each other off they just sorta...got used to one another. and none of them were willing to give you up so it's lucky they decided to share or it would've been a fucking bloodbath to put it lightly. none of them have self control or boundaries. to get what they want they'd all go ridiculously far... i don't know what's farther than murder but they'd do it. 

○ they all depend on you emotionally, honestly. you're their closest friend, the person they can be vulnerable with, someone they trust to take care of them in the way that matters most. they love you because you make them all feel....human (even jd who is the only actual human besides you. but you get the point.)

sometimes they get jealous of each other, which is ridiculous, because you're almost always together as a group. you do occasionally go off in pairs or to separate outings/activities/dates but generally?? you're all together. it's typically more like-

ginger: you've been hanging off y/n all fucking day, jennifer! they barely fucking smell like me anymore. jennifer: what's so bad about that? you smell fucking disgusting- jd: *grabs ginger around the waist before she can jump across the kitchen counter and beat jen's ass*

however!! there isn't as much inter-group jealously as you'd believe! they actually enjoy having a relationship involving four people.

it feels very secure to them? first off they all feel better in regards to you. they don't worry so much about anything happening to you because you have three over-protective partners who would die and kill for you. they also don't worry about you leaving them because you're so.... you. unlike other, unnamed people they so desperately clung to in the past they know you're not going anywhere. they feel secure enough in their connection with you to be as codependent as possible :)))

(also.... you couldn't leave if you tried lmao. get away from one of them? sure       maybe. get away from all three?? *cue clown music* they'd use ginger as a hunting hound and track you by scent alone.)

the four person relationship feels incredible to ginger because it satisfies her need to have a pack? she'd only ever had her sister before and you know how....close, they were. having more than one, single person to be emotionally attached to/invested in really helps center ginger? it also makes it easier to be in a relationship with her? she can be very intense and focused and she puts a lot of energy into her relationship. having that focus and intensity spread out amongst multiple partners is great for her and for them. 

jennifer only ever really felt connected to one person, needy. losing her was....a lot. she never thought she'd be close to anyone again let alone to three people. she can't stand the mutt sometimes but she loves you and jd!! and she loves being loved. not lusted after. not admired. not envied. loved, genuinely loved. she may be a demon, she might not have a soul anymore, but she does have a heart, and every day she's with the three of you it feels a little less broken. 

since the..."untimely" death of jd's mother (and arguably, even while she was still alive) he's never had any roots. no solid connection. no one to belong to or with. before you, ginger, and jennifer he was just...drifting. when you three came into his life it was like hearing a sudden gunshot in the middle of a calm forest. it was electrifying, and maybe even a little scary. he went from having absolutely nothing to having everything, all at once. for the first time in a long time he has something to be grateful for. he would do anything for the three of you. he'd burn the world to the ground just to see you three smile.  

jd goes on several motorcycle rides a week because while you guys have like two cars...he keeps his motorcycle because jennifer, ginger and you think it's hot and none of you are very practical. he must treat all of you to the delight that is the wind flowing through your hair while you're on the back of his bike. jennifer doesn't like helmet hair but she likes the sexiness factor. ginger likes that it's dangerous so jd always speeds when he's with her, you're not sure how they don't get arrested?? 

date nights are such a nightmare because you guys are all very opinionated?? and particular. you and jd are probably the most easy-going but that doesn't really help because jennifer and ginger are always going to be picky about what you guys wind up doing and they'll say no to whatever the other suggests just on principal. just for their own amusement. 

ginger, jennifer and jd are so over-protective of you. you're such a delicate little human?? how have you been surviving without them?? you need them to take care of you. 

sometimes you'll be like "why the fuck aren't you two stifling jd? he's a human too!!" and they're like "no he's different" which is such bullshit but also like....jd is fucking unhinged. he can take care of himself. you are their baby. 

ginger and jennifer are forever arguing about who is going to transform you and jd. you would think they’d at least agree that one of you is gonna get turned into a demon and one will become a werewolf, at least for the sake of balance, but they literally can’t even agree on THAT let alone which supernatural creature you or jd will wind up as. you two have minimal input in this choice sorry :/ this is werewolf and succubus beef. humans be silent.

you staying human isn't a choice because humans are weak and die so quickly. unacceptable?? ginger is gonna live a long ass time and jennifer is probably immortal. they are not winding up stuck with each other just because you and jd thought you could escape them in death?? fuck you. 

ginger needs all three of you to smell like her. yes, even jennifer. but mostly you and jd as you're her two humans and Preferred Mates. jennifer can smell her scent on you all but she doesn't need to smell it?? it's not instinctual?? meanwhile it straight up gives ginger anxiety when you guys don't smell like her. it's just part of werewolf mating. honestly while ginger smells different from humans she doesn't smell like dog, jennifer just likes to say that to piss her off. if she did smell like dog jennifer wouldn't touch her and would gripe any time she touched you or jd. 

cuddling is such a fucking nightmare. you guys have the biggest couch in the world and it's still a fucking ordeal. every two person couple activity is fucking ordeal for local poly couple.

it's a debate every time about who's going to sit where or who's going to hold who. oh jennifer likes to sit on the armrest? cool. except she wants to cuddle with you, but you want to sit in the middle today, and jd wants his arms around you, but ginger is laying in his lap and refuses to move cause he was riding on his bike too long today and stopped smelling like her so she'll bite him if he moves. 

your life is literally that "man has to get a fox, a chicken, and a sack of corn across a river." riddle i'm so fucking sorry for you.

jennifer likes to buy you and jd clothes. she stopped bothering getting stuff for ginger because the mutt is always so ungrateful of jennifer's taste in clothing. to be fair jennifer only buys a few things that are a bit out of you or jd's comfort range, she tends to buy things that will make you look hot but that you'd also get for yourself. 

jd goes shopping with her because he doesn't like leaving any of his partners alone for long. like he doesn't enjoy it he's also not going to bitch about it like other "dutiful" boyfriends who are left holding a few shopping bags and purses. you can't go out with your girlfriend and hold her shit for her for a couple hours?? can't give her a few minimal responses on whether something looks good or bad??? fuck you. also stop looking at his girlfriend before he pulls out his gun. 

they all encourage the worst of each others possessiveness. not only because being around each other makes it feel normal because they all agree this is a perfectly healthy amount of possessiveness but also because they all think of being possessive as something romantic. you know they love you because they'll rip apart anyone who looks at you for two long!!! 

when you wake up in the morning it's chaos. someone's hair is always in someone's mouth and ginger is a very wild sleeper. especially as it gets closer to the full moon. one of you will wind up on the floor even though you have two king mattresses pushed together. jennifer is one second away from tying ginger up before the four of you go to bed. 

you don't really have to worry much about ginger's transformation?? like she won't hurt you and jd during it because she knows that you two are her mates, she's pretty docile around you two (for a werewolf). she knows that jennifer is her...something so she doesn't try to hurt her but she's also not gonna roll over and show her belly.

if anything does go wrong like ginger gets out/away from you all or out of control jennifer can get her back or put her in check no problem. werewolf cuts/bites don't hurt more than any other type of gnarly injury so jennifer is fine with doing it.

that's one of the ways you can tell jennifer gives a shit about ginger actually. even when ginger will fight her viciously when she's a werewolf jennifer mostly just does things to restrain her, not to hurt her. you'd never point that out though because just to prove she's not soft jennifer might break one of ginger's ribs or some shit next time.

the big concern is making sure ginger doesn't get hurt or caught. jd and jen don't care if she hurts anyone else frankly adjkl. to try and keep ginger running off to a minimum (because it's very hard to keep a werewolf somewhere it doesn't want to be) right before a turn jennifer will bring her own.... food, back to the house and her and ginger will kill them together?? it satiates some of the blood-lust and makes the transformations easier. 

all three of these bastards will try and kiss you or fuck you while you're covered in blood and it's a nightmare!! somehow one of them is always covered in blood!! even if jd wasn't directly involved in a killing he will come home covered in blood because he made out or had sex with one of the girls while they were covered in blood. he thinks they're beautiful when they're blood thirsty :)))

none of them are great at emotions but all three of them together almost make one-functional human being!! and they are all, to their credit, aware of the fact that they aren't great with feelings so they are already naturally over-compensating to make sure they're always taking care of all your needs. 

you: on the phone with a friend complaining about your day, minding your own business the three of them: *manifest from nowhere because their "you having human contact that isn't them" sense was tingling ginger: *snatches your phone and hangs up on your friend* jennifer: *sits in your lap* jd: *wraps an arm around you* why don't you tell us about your day, darling?

a well-oiled machine anyone?

no friends!!! only them!! you are a pack!! you are mates!! you're a family!!! fuck anyone else. 

[aclosetfan]

are u still doing the ask game? can i ask for 19 or 20?

for you anon, of course! 20 is actually a really lame two-sentence note that isn't worth anyone's time, so I'll do 19!

19 is a really sad story tbh. I've always really liked the character Sedusa and it kills me that the writers never did more with her. I believe they said the reason why was because they couldn't think of many kid-friendly scenarios to put her in, which is fair lmao.

lol one of my notes for this outline is "this is my dark manifesto to [Sedusa] and it comes off like a bad CW remake," which was written way before the CW show announcement. so not to get a big ego about things, but I totally beat them to the punch. This fic is my only rated M fic (though arguably Acting Normal may also change into M just for its dark themes as well).

This story is adequately tilted "Sedusa" and it follows how a plain jane named Sara became one of Townsville's most notorious villains. The plot's below, though content warning, please don’t read if your triggered by abusive relationships, domestic violence, child abuse, sexual assault/harassment, or gore. The outline won't be detailed (and tbh the actual story won't be heavily detailed either) but i believe that everyone still deserves a fair warning :)

The outline doesn't do the plot justice, but it's all I got so hopefully people just Get It.

CHARACTER NOTES:

Canonically, I believe the Sedusa's character was supposed to represent envy and lust. So, one of the main themes I try to stick with when writing her character is the definition of envy, which is a "feeling of discontented or resentful longing aroused by someone else's possessions, qualities, or luck."

PLOT:

Sara is a sweet and mousy little girl, who tries her best to stay invisible. She's rather plain-looking except for her really beautiful long dark hair. Originally, she's not from Townsville, but somewhere in the "country" where a person could be considered a bumpkin. Sara's a smart young girl, but her intelligence is rather unrefined. She spends most of her time obsessing over greek and Egyptian mythology.

She's from a rather big family, but she's the baby. Her father is abusive. Her mother is neglectful and Sara resents her mother for just standing by while abuse is occurring. To cope, Sara dreams of running away and falls deeper into her mythology obsession--specifically Medusa. Sara feels like Medusa would understand her.

At 16, she runs away to Townsville where she tries to be a hairdresser. With no money, she ends up in a really seedy part of town and the beauty parlor she works for ends up being a front for more illicit activities. She still does hair, but really makes her money as a call-girl of sorts. Just one of those girls who gives handjobs in the back to sad old men. It's easy money (I'm pro-sex work lol so I don't make this a big deal, but she's still a minor and it's wrong), but she's disgusted with herself (and men). At this time, she isn't very good at manipulating men--it's more like they have power over her and it reminds her of her father, only making her angrier and angrier.

It is also of note that while she's working at the Parlor, she encounters Sarah Bellum via tv (Ms. Bellum is just an intern with the Mayor at this point). She's instantly fascinated by this other Sarah and forms an odd (slightly toxic) parasocial relationship with her. Sara thinks it's amazing that Sarah went to school and is just so glamourous. Ms. Bellum is really everything Sara wants to be.

*time skip*

Sara falls in love with some jackass. Still slightly obsessed with Sarah Bellum. Still working at the parlor. Sara feels stagnant and worthless. Her jackass boyfriend and a few of his shitty friends end up attacking Sara and cutting off her hair (which was her prized possession). She gets away, but not totally unscathed.

In the process of running away, she bumps into a mysterious man who promises He can fix whatever is troubling her. The mysterious man manipulates an affirmative answer out of Sara and he "fixes" her problem. The man is HIM and he transforms her into the woman we all know as Sedusa (who goes by Ima when disguised).

“And what is it that you want?” HIM tsked, almost sounding bored.

She looked back at the mirror, at her broken reflection and lipstick smeared down her face. With a sore, croaking voice she sneered, “I want my fu-fucking hair back.”

Behind her, the entity smiled, Its facing splitting wide into two, “Oh, now that I can do.”

She watched through the shattered glass how It—HIM—snapped its odd monstrous claw. HIM’s smile grew more grotesque, as a thin bead of sweat began to break out on her forehead.

“This might hurt a little bit,” the entity giggled as she began to hyperventilate, “but what is that you little humans say?" HIM paused, watching her with a tilt of Its head as pain shot through her temples, "Oh, that’s right—”

She gasped and then screamed, dropping to her knees as she clutched at her head. Something wiggled underneath her scalp, pushing harder and harder to break against the resistance of her skin. It felt as if something was pressing against her brain, trying to carve away at her skull.

“—beauty is pain.” HIM growled, appearing next to her so Its voice—now low and baritone—was right in her ear, and It grasped her by the chin forcing her to watch the mirror as snake-like tendrils sprouted from her skull. She cried out at the sight and her body trembled with the pain.

One black, oily, twisted snake after another shot out of a bloody crater on her head. She tried her best through the pain to shake HIM off—to look away—but It held her still with a twisted laugh. She thrashed and howled in agony as the blood poured down her face in rivets. HIM didn't let go. Instead, HIM forced her still, grabbing her by the chin so she'd peer directly into the broken mirror.

Sara paled right before her very eyes, from a peachy skin tone to a white paste. She tried to blink away the tears that wouldn’t stop welling in her eyes—the green of them becoming more acidic with every passing second.

“The fun should be ending soon.” HIM giggled again, Its voice back to a soprano, but she was too forgone to hear him, as her eyes began to lull into the back of her head.

Eventually, when the transformation is complete, we see this:

Sara had stayed collapsed on her knees after HIM vanished into thin air. She stared with wide eyes as blood, sweat, and tears dripped onto and rolled off her thighs. She hardly paid attention to her surrounding, all she could do was listen. She listened to her hair. She listened to the constant moving, living, mass that slithered around her head, neck, and shoulders. The coils almost seemed to be cooing at her, comforting her through her pain, offering sweet apologies for what they had done. They promised her nothing bad would ever happen again. They were a dangerous shield forged from her own body to protect her.

Her body. A vessel for this odd new life.

“Heh.” A deranged giggle escaped her mouth, “Heh. Heh ha—hahaha!” She laughed until her throat burned and tightened, her tears finally drying.

It was instantaneous. It was powerful. Sara had never known love before, but she loved them. She loved every single one of them.

And here she had thought she'd never be a mother.

Sara becomes Sedusa--taking inspiration from Medusa, her childhood fascination. She wonders if HIM knew, but she wouldn't bother asking. She feels sexy, powerful, and unstoppable. Her hair has instilled a new confidence in her and she's finally able to stand up for herself. Soon, she realizes that she's an "exotic" beauty and has men eating out of her hand. She isn't someone who kills, but if she gets bored (or feels threaten) she will.

Things are going good until the PowerPuff Girls are finally created. When she sees them for the first time, she pities them, especially when they're run out of town. She relates to them for not being loved little girls, but is completely shocked when she finds out they've won the town over. This shock turns into resentment and she decides she'll get even with the girls

Then, cue canon. Sedusa seduces the Professor. We see what happens in that episode plus a little more. Sedusa takes out a lot of her repressed childhood trauma on the girls and is plain awful to them. By the time her stint with the Professor is over, she hates them all.

Then, there's the episode with Bellum. Bellum becomes the Athena to Sedusa's medusa. Bellum is still this elevated person in Sedusa's mind, and it only makes sense to Sedusa that she should become Bellum. To become Bellum, Sedusa seduces Bellum and they end up having a brief relationship. (Sedusa pretends to be an intern at City Hall and the two ladies bond over having the same first name). Eventually, Sedusa reveals her plot and the canon events happen. (Bellum is heartbroken over Sedusa).

I'd like to emphasize that Sedusa's relationship with Bellum almost turns her "good," but her hair coils (HIM's curse) prevents her from taking those steps. Her coils prevent close loving relationships--since they're supposed to be shield that keeps people out, preventing any chance that Sedusa's heart may be broken again. [coils represent her inability to heal from the past]

Then we run through a quick montage of her other appearances.

[throughout all of this, I would write how her hair coils are making her more and more insane]

*time skip to after the events of the og show*

This is where my plot can go anywhere. I think Sedusa becomes sloppy, maybe kills a politican. She's spirialing out of control and mad that she can't find any real happiness in her life. I think it'd be interesting to show her interacting with the rrb, not necessarily to show their relationship, but to show how Sedusa would be infuriated that HIM had sons, especially sons who hurt girls for fun ( i.e. the ppg) (a real 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend' moment for her). She's also infuriated at HIM for turning her into a monster, so being mad about his "sons" is just an excuse to get even with the entity.

To hurt HIM, she decides to hurt the boys, but the girls interfere. They won't let innocent live be taken, no matter the person's moral alignment. This infuriates Sedusa even more than HIM ever could. Because again, despite all the shitty things that have happened to the Girls, they are still good as opposed to Sedusa, who ended up bad. She doesn't understand why she had to end up the way she did.

However, the girls aren't the people who finally "defeat" Sedusa. Instead, that honor is left to Ms. Bellum (Sedusa's "Athena"), who Sedusa still very much loves in her own sick twisted way. Paralleling the Sedusa/Bellum episode in the og show, the girls (while protecting the boys) are almost defeated by Sedusa until Bellum intervenes. It's revealed that Bellum had a shitty childhood too (again enforcing the parallels/differences between the two women) and believes that it's not too late for Sedusa to change her ways (it’s a real “I’m rotten work” “no it isn’t. Not if it’s you” moment) In a moment of mental clarity, where the coils (and by extension HIM) cannot affect her judgement, Sedusa releases the boys and the girls. Sedusa doesn't stay though, like Bellum pleads, she gets scared and runs away. (but does tell Bellum she’d always love her, whatever that’s good for)

[also I decide bellum to defeat sedusa to show that the girls are still to young and that adults should be the ones dealing with other adults] [and bellum has a good track record of doing just that]

Idk if she'd be gone forever, but it's implied that she hasn't been seen in Townsville for a long time. What she gets up to is left ambiguous. She can't be good because of her hair coils, but she doesn't want to be bad. idk I don't want it to have a sad ending, but I don't think it can really be happy.

-----

I try hard to play with the concept of beauty, womanhood, purity, love and how negative/positive responses to trauma affect these concepts. Idk it's really rough and needs to be thought out more, especially the end, but I think Sedusa deserves her own story.

[darkmulti]

Mine

Ex boyfriendYandere!San x female reader

⚠️Warnings: possessive behaviour, horror au, language, spanking, fear kink, ddlg, kidnapping, mentions of non con, torture, death, blood, physical abuse (slapping, spanking, pinching, kicking), mental abuse, not a full smut but talks about a little, fluff ending❣️

Please read at your own risk, some parts may be triggering.

Part 2 on masterlist 

——————————————————————————

“YOU FUCKING KNEW I WOULD BE FUCKING ANGRY, BUT YOU STILL WENT!”

Currently San had you against the wall with his hand tightly wrapped around your throat. Tears falling from your eyes and your breath hitches.

“P-please, San. I’m-I’m so-sorry.”

You whimper out.

You were petrified of him. Shivering from fear. You suddenly felt so cold. It was a horrid feeling. The feeling of being alone, in the dark, frightened by his dominant presences. He had too much control of you, it was concerning.

“Why are you apologizing to me now? You already went on the date.”

Suddenly a hard slap lands on your face making it slant to the side. He grabs you jaw aggressively and moves closer to your face. You can feel his hot breath on your nose.

“Answer me when I talk to you. You know how much I hate to repeat myself.”

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on the date.”

He slaps you again and spits on your face.

“A ‘sorry’ is not going to fix anything. You already did it. I have to punish you. Go into the fucking car. NOW!”

He let go of your neck, expecting you to obey him, but instead you bolt to your bedroom. You heard him close behind but made it just in time. If you were any slower he would’ve catched you. You slam your room door and lock it.

Why was this happening?

Why couldn’t he let you go?

His behaviour toward you had ruined your mental health. What more could he want?

You and San started dating in the last year of high school. He was a pure angel, and treated you like a princess. It was until the last year of university, he got more and more possessive of you and you had to let go.

He was extremely proprietorial of you. It constantly made you question your relationship.

Does he even trust you?

The reason why San was provoked now, was because you had gone on a date with one of your classmates. That’s only because you’re not together with him anymore.

You couldn’t condone his behaviour anymore and broke up with him. He had an uncontrollable rage, especially if it was about you. Therefore you ended it.

Unfortunately for you, San didn’t take it like that. He thought it was just a break and left you alone for one week. The next week, he came roaming around, right back to you.

When you tell him that it’s over, you’re done. He pinned you against the wall and took you right there. You being into the moment, let it happen just one more time.

Well you thought it was just gonna be that one time. But he always did it. He fucked you under the bleachers during a football game. In the chem lab, the sleeping pods. You would always tell him no, but he didn’t take it as an answer.

Thus, you didn’t fight it anymore. Except now. He was taking it to another level and you didn’t need that right now.

“San please leave me alone!”

You pleaded on one side of the door.

Your voice was met with nothing but silence. You lay on the floor to look under the little opening of the bottom of the door, looking for his feet.

You saw nothing. Maybe he left.

“What’re you doing on the floor?”

You jolt up and look behind you. San was in your room. You looked behind him and the window was open.

You scurried up and unlocked the door, but San was faster and closed it from behind you. He roughly grabbed your shoulders and flipped you around to face him.

“You can’t escape me. You’re MINE! How many fucking times do I have to tell you?”

He was furious. His face was red and he looked like he could cry from frustration. Knowing him well, you knew he would absolutely lose it if you apologized to him one more time.

Instead you cup his cheeks and rub them softly. You move closer to him, hoping he would wrap his arms around you, pick you up and forgive you. So this nightmare can be over and you can be one again.

You were exhausted. But hey, at least he’s loyal. Not a lot of men have loyalty. You wouldn’t die if you stayed with San. He would at least protect you.

You tried to think of his good traits.

San sighs and pulls you closer to him.

“Now you wanna act all innocent? You’ve angered beyond my limit. I am still going to punish you for that. Bad girls like you, need to be put in their place. Understood?”

“Yes”

You whisper in his ear and let him take you back to his car.

This was you giving up. You can’t continue to fight. Not like this. This was tormenting you. Maybe the one causing all of this suffering can bring you out of it. You kept a little hope in San, thinking that he may make you the happiest girl in the world one day.

San enters into the car with a bag and throws it in the back.

“What’s that?”

“Some clothes and my favourite lingerie.”

Upon saying this a grin was forming on his lips.

His hand made its way over to your thighs and harshly slaps his.

You flinch up not expecting that.

“Why don’t you remind me the 9 strict rules I had for you? If you get it wrong I will slap these beautiful, soft thighs until they’re bruised. Understand?”

“Yes daddy. Rule number one is to call you daddy or master.”

“Good girl”

“Rule number two is to listen and obey daddy at all times. Rule number three is ask daddy permission for everything. Rule number four is to not back talk or act like a brat to daddy. Rule number five, is- uhh”

You yelp up and feel a sting on your thigh. You hiss out in pain.

“What’s rule number five, whore.”

“It’s too......”

Another slap lays on your thighs.

You start panicking because you forgot what rule number five is. Your heart rate gets faster and you can’t help but fidget around. A lump forms in your throat and you try you best to blink away tears.

Why was he this horrifying to you?

“You forgot didn’t you?”

“Yes daddy.”

“When we get home, that’s 10 spankings on the ass. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Okay, moving on what’s rule number six?”

“Tell daddy, if there’s something wrong. Always talk to daddy because he’s here to listen.”

“Seven”

“Never touch myself”

“Eight”

“Be thankful for everything my daddy has provided me and be thankful for my daddy.”

“Nine.”

You gulp not remembering what it was. This was the new rule San had added, but a week later you broke up with him.

“Daddy, I don’t remember nine. I truly am sorry.”

You speak in the most baby voice you can pull off.

He didn’t acknowledge it and spanks your thighs 10 times, each time getting harder and harder.

You hold in your cries and finally see that you have reached his mansion.

He parks at the front and says to you

“Stay in the car, I'll come around.”

You obey and he comes around opening the door and pulling you out. He slams the car door, and with a tight grip on your arm, pulls you inside.

———-

3 months later

You had completely lost all hope. This time your punishment was much more physical. He kicked you. After fucking you for what seemed like days, he cummed all over you and kicked your legs, back and stomach. After that he left.

You lay on the concrete floor, bawling your eyes out. Why was he this cruel?! Since the day you entered this house, you’ve been locked up in the punishment room.

At this point San was using you as a sex slave. His little cum slut. You had a massive amount of hatred toward him now. You will be able to love again!

He broke you. He was starting to get physical now. He would feed you a meal every two days and the water was the faucet water from the bathroom. He still allowed you to keep your hygiene up because at the end of the day, he was still fucking you. You didn’t have clothes to wear and just walked around nude.

You had a collar on and San sometimes put a leash on you while fucking you.

It was hell. You couldn’t take it anymore!

You start crying even harder, trembling in fear. Your sobs become a little louder and before you knew it you were wailing.

The door immediately opens and San is standing at the doorway.

“Why’re you crying without my permission? You want me to punish you again? You just seem like you can’t get enough of me. Am I that handsome or am I just that good at fucking you?”

You immediately stop and don’t reply. What does he want you to say to that? That you like him making you feel like a worthless piece of shit?

“Not replying I see. Tsk tsk tsk. Get up and bend over on the bed.”

In a flash you stand up and bend over the bed.

San pulls you back and spits in your mouth.

“Swallow.”

You gulp it down.

“Good girl.”

He praised you and petted your head.

“Now count for me, babygirl.”

He spanks you up to ten and you don’t react. It hurt, but in a way you were already used to it. Your ass was bruised. You couldn’t sit on it or lay on it. It was terrible.

San rubs your ass and picks up a blanket. He wrapped you around in it and carries you upstairs to his room you’re assuming. He lays you on the bed and kisses you all over your face.

“Tomorrow was supposed to be your last day in the punishment room. But since my princess was crying, I will end it today. This is our shared room and your clothes are in our closet. How about you go shower, then we can eat dinner, then cuddle.”

What the fuck?

How did he suddenly change like that?

You were still afraid of him and kept your distance, but he started taking you out on dates and buying you stuff.

He even bought you a promise ring. It matched with his. He would buy you couples outfits and was attached to your side.

“Babygirl can you look at me?”

You turn your head to face San.

He gently kisses you and pulls away saying

“I love you, princess.”

“I love you too, Sannie.”

You smile and kiss him back.

Maybe the hard parts over.

—————————————————————————— edited🔐

[entoman-created-by-the-tallgreys]

Please hear me out . . .

A lot of human men love to have their women weak and worthless.

And in life they barely have a purpose.

Little do they know that bimbo women are extremely parasitical and lack all empathy they are 100% sociopath.

Stupid is stupid and You do stupid things, stupid always has a monumental consequence !

Karma is real and it's a Bitch !

. . .

If you have sex with dumb bimbos Slutty little bimbo women which I have no problem the woman's sexuality but when a woman's all about the sexual lust she's worthless.

When you breathe women to only be your sex toys they're going to lose most their brain but they're all going to mutate and evolve in different ways.

There is a reason the female brain is smaller than a male brain because males never let the females suffer.

They never let the female brain get challenged.

It never really had to think about anything besides sucking a dick and washing a dish.

The most challenging part of a woman's life is giving birth to a baby which I really think it's a Grays f up.

Birth is usually painless almost every animal on the earth but for humans is extremely painful that sounds like a serious genetic failure.

Either way Back on task.

Human women are not really dumb they just learned not to be quality females.

They learn to be complete and absolute raging parasites.

Who lack all empathy 100% to understand any emotion a man expresses to the point where they almost can't understand anger but they understand danger.

Women can't understand man crying women can't understand man's sad women can't understand man being afraid women no longer can recognize or understand any human emotion as if they are almost aliens.

This must be done because of intense poor breeding skills AKA men had sex with the wrong woman for too many generations.

And they literally broke their women's brains women may drive men crazy but with a man's cock he drove them well in his own way genetically crazy.

In a way Humanity ruined itself.

😐

[namfine]

Motherlode | Namjoon x Reader | Gold Rush AU | Part 1

❂ pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

❂ word count: 5k

❂ summary: Following the death of your father in 1849, you travel across the United States in search of finding gold in California. There you stumble upon a young geology professor eager to find his way in the world as well. 

❂ tags: 18+, smut, virgin reader, first time sex, oral sex (fem receiving), foreplay, light dirty talk, falling in love, mutual feelings, gold rush au, time period au, alternate universe, outdoor sex? (they’re in a tent so?), smut with plot

❂ part: 1 of 2

Part 2

❂ a/n: Hello everyone, Admin Zesty here! This is the first in a two part series of a new alternate universe set in the California Gold Rush with our dearest Namjoon. I’ll update this and post the next chapter when it’s finished. Hope you enjoy!

- ☆.｡.:* Zesty .｡.:*☆

The sunrises out here really were beautiful. That gave you something to look forward to each day, at least. You urged your horse forward, eager to catch up to the rest of the caravan. It was just a few more miles until you reached the border of California and then a bit more to reach the American River. You had made it. For the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of hope.

The trek across America had been harder than you expected. You had been so overcome with grief from the death of your father that you had leapt at the opportunity to find riches in the unexplored west after James Marshall found that massive gold nugget. New York had nothing for you now, it’s only purpose serving as a stark reminder that you had no one left in the world to look out for you. Only mean neighbors who trusted your bookshop owning father on his peculiar way of raising a young lady.

“I do oppose young ladies learning how to read, it’s quite unbecoming.”

“If you keep encouraging those debates, Mr. Y/L/N, you’re going to raise her to have a mind of her own!”

“Ugh, did you see what Y/N was wearing around the store the other evening? Pantaloons!”

You shoved down the memories. Yes, leaving New York after the death of your father had been surprisingly easy.

The sun finally tipped over the horizon and flashed in your eyes. You pulled down your cap, careful to keep your hair tucked under it in an effort to block the sun. It was dangerous for a single young lady without a male relative or husband to travel alone. With no known family left, you had done the only thing you knew to avoid it: became a boy.

As a boy you were inconspicuous, you could easily slide under the radar. Men stopped paying attention to you and the streets were safer at night. Your last night in New York all it took was a pair of scissors and a quick raid of your father’s closet and you were ready to go. But now, five months into the journey, your hair was starting to get long again and you knew your face well enough to know that if you didn’t pin your hair, it would soon be easy to tell. You had lost your knife a few months back and sorely felt the loss.

“How are the pains?” A soft voice drew you from your thoughts and you turned to see the minister’s wife astride her sorrel mare beside you. As one of the few women in the group, she had the ability to move quietly when she needed to. She was older than you and had a kind face. Her and her husband were heading to California to spread the gospel of the lord and had been kind enough to let you tag along with their group on the journey. Most of which were practicers of religion or men hoping to find riches for their families. The caravan totaled to about 25 people and of them all, she was the only one that knew you were a girl.

She’d figured it out quickly, given the fact that your period the first month on the road had been brutal. She had recognized your pain, offered you some herbs, and didn’t ask any questions.

When you offered an explanation later, stating how you wanted the opportunity and safety only a man’s appearance could offer, she said you didn’t need to explain. That your reasonings were your own and she understood what would happen if you were discovered. Of the freedom that could be taken from you and the things that could be forced upon you in an instant.

And that was that. Your companionship had grown from there, simple but welcomed.

“They’re better,” you respond. “Thank you for the herbs.”

The woman smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do when you get there?”

You tightened your resolve and flashed her a smile. “I’m gonna kick the West’s ass.”

***

It turns out, the West’s ass didn’t want to be kicked. By the time you had reached the base on the American River parts of your group had dwindled down. The minister and his wife stayed with you and the other panners for a few days before continuing on their journey to San Francisco leaving you, for the first time on this journey, completely and utterly alone.

The base was huge, an expedition set up by a mean old man who called himself The Warden. What his real name was, no one knew. You had that in common with him at least, having kept your true name secret to all who you’d encountered.

It was now, standing in his massive tent surrounded by his men, that the sinking feeling of being a woman in disguise in a camp filled with rascals settled in. If any one were to discover you, god knows what would happen.

“How old are you anyway, boy?” The warden asked. He was standing behind his desk. On it was a map of the American with circles indicating where gold had been found. “You’re a scrawny fella.”

“Sixteen, sir.” 23. But tall, for a girl and well past marriageable age in your neighbors opinions.

The older man scoffed, stroking his mustache. “And you out here searchin’ for riches, son? Gonna blow it all on hookers and booze, I betcha.” The men around him laughed. You kept your face neutral.

“Something like that, sir.”

“Well,” he took a swig from the metal mug. “All walks of life are welcome here. We’re all runnin’ from somethin’ and searchin’ for the-” he held up a finger “-one thing that will help us escape.” He put down the mug and grabbed a piece of paper from his desk, careful to avoid smudging the ink on the map. “Sign here and you can start tomorrow.”

You looked at the paper. Lucky for you, your father had believed that everyone, regardless of gender should be taught to read. You couldn’t say the same for the parents of other girls your age. He had also taught you to be wary of a contract. “What is it?”

“An agreement, boy. You sign away 60 days of honest work to me, panning for gold and helping assemble my mine. After that, I’ll let you pan here for free. Anything you find, you keep.”

Seems fair.

“What if I find something before my days are up?”

He looked at you. “Then it’s mine. I’m letting you sleep here and eat our food, I gotta pay for it all somehow and aren’t we all in this for profit?”

Touche.

“Deal.”

***

The days were long and the work was hard. Regardless, you found yourself quickly settling into a routine at the camp. You started most mornings down by the river, panning for gold. The cool water managed to balance out the hot sun and compared to the noisy streets of New York, you were loving the sounds of the birds and the wind.

In the afternoons you would sometimes continue panning or they would send you into the mines to help clear paths. You hated it down there. There was something unnerving about going deep into the earth and digging into her crevices. The air smelled damp and the only light was the lanterns that were hung haphazardly along the walls. You tried to avoid this work as much as possible.

On the eighth day of your sentence your routine was broken by a disturbance on the outskirts of the main base. A young professor had arrived a few days earlier and you had paid him little mind, as did most of the other miners. Still, it seemed his time of going unnoticed was over.

“What did you say about my gold?” An angry man had the lanky professor by his collar and up against a tree, two of his friends closing in on either side.

The professor waved his arms in surrender, trying desperately to fix whatever it was he seemed to have started. You stopped along the path along with a few other panners to observe and a small crowd gathered shortly.

“I merely spoke the truth,” The professor said, his voice even and calm. “What you have there isn’t gold at all. It’s pyrite. You trading it for time off his sentence seems hardly fair considering it's pretty much worthless.”

You shook your head at his honesty in such a compromising position. What an idiot.

“Look,” The panner said, tightening his grip on the professor's collar. “ I may not have some fancy degree from some big college but I’ve been working these waters a lot longer than you, boy, and I know gold when I see it.”

“It’s an easy mistake to make, when you don’t know the differences. I hardly blame you.”

Your mouth dropped open. The men around you shifted on their feet, sensing a scuffle.

The man fumed. “Are you calling me a liar?”

The professor looked down at his collar at the spot where the man gripped his collar before tracing the man’s arm with his eyes slowly back to his face.

Oh god, you thought. Please don’t say it.

“I don’t think you’re a liar,” the professor stated.

Oh, good. He has some sense at least.

“Just an idiot.”

Here we go.

The man pulled back his other fist, his friends egging him on, ready to throw the punch. The professor shot another one of his goofy grins and this time you could have sworn it was in your direction. You stared at him in abject confusion.

“Stop!” A shout rang out across the group and everyone froze. “What’s going on here?”

You turned to see the warden fast approaching, his usual squad hot on his heels. “Men, release the professor and explain!”

The man holding the professor’s collar dropped it and the professor brushed off his shirt, giving him another small smile. “This here smart guy,” the assailant started. “Was accusin’ me of lyin’. Sayin’ that I was rippin’ ole Jimmy off with a piece of . . . uh. . .” he looked at the professor.

The professor leaned forward. “Pyrite,” he supplied.

“Ah, yeah,” the man continued. “Pyrite! He said I was rippin’ Jimmy off with a piece of this here Pyrite!”

The warden looked up at the heaven’s like he was hoping today would be his last day on earth. “Could I see the mineral in question?”

The man supplied the gem out of his pocket and handed it to the warden. The crowd stood on their tiptoes as he examined it, eager to see the verdict. The professor didn’t show any emotion, merely crossed his arms in quiet confidence. You studied his movements.  

The warden turned the piece over in his hands, examining the mineral before bringing it to his mouth and biting down. When he was satisfied he turned toward the assailant.

“The professor accused you of lyin’ not because he thought you were,” the warden began, startlingly calm. “But because he knew you were a FUCKING IDIOT!” The warden threw the stone against the tree, mere inches past the assailants head who cowered at the tone. “That is pyrite you imbecile!”

The crowd burst into conversation. Some laughed and others stated their opinions on the matter but your eyes stayed  glued to the young professor. He watched you for a minute in response before turning to address the warden who was explaining his position to his lackeys. You moved closer so you could hear better, eager to learn more about the strange man who had appeared on the base. You had to admit, he was handsome but the pretty ones always brought trouble.

“Gentlemen, this is Professor Kim,” the warden introduced the young man to his group. They all nodded and introduced themselves in return but you didn’t bother to remember their names. “He is visitin’ us from a University overseas. Here to assist in discoverin’ where to best find the most valuable of Earth’s metals. He’s a . . . uhh. . . geographer or somethin’,” the warden explained. “Studies dirt and the like.”

“Geologist,” Professor Kim corrected. “A mining geologist to be specific. I study the  extractions of mineral resources from the Earth.”

The group stared at him.

“Rocks,” he sighed, defeated. “I study rocks.”

A chorus of ‘Ahh’s’ broke out amongst the men. You stifled a laugh. You may not have traveled much but growing up in your father’s bookshop you had read a lot and even you knew what a geologist was.

“Regardless,” the warden continued, casting a dismissive hand in the Professor’s direction. “The higher ups seem hell bent on makin’ sure he makes progress in his work and comes out with as few - er - scratches as possible.”

Professor Kim tilted his head. “I would also very much appreciate that.”

“That being said,” the warden turned around looking over the crowd. “You there, boy!” The warden pointed in your direction. Surprised, you looked behind you. No one was there. You looked back at him, pointing at yourself.

“Me?”

“Yes, you,” the warden spat. “You’re to assist the professor during his time here. Make sure he has everythin’ he needs and most of all, make sure he stays out of trouble.”

The warden turned on his heel to leave, clearly believing the matter to be settled.

You chased after him, as the crowd began to disperse, struggling to maintain your composure and keep your cool. “Sir, with all due respect I need to be on the rive-”

“Look, boy, I don’t have time to deal with this. You heard my command,” He turned lowering himself closer to your face. He reeked of body odor and whiskey and you struggled not to cover your nose. “-and my command is law. You signed that there contract, you work for me. And I say: you’re to be assistin’ the professor for the rest of his time here, and that’s that.” He spun on his heel and was gone. In a few short minutes the crowd was fully gone, leaving only you and the young professor.

Defeated, you cursed under your breath, not sure what you had done to deserve this. You were supposed to be out here finding gold, getting rich, and starting a new life far away from your troubles in the East and now you were supposed to babysit some yippy foreign professor because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

You finally turned to face Professor Kim. He raised an eyebrow in your direction and flashed a big smile, unaware the damage he was causing to your patience. He was tall, wearing a simple loose long sleeved white shirt tucked into snug pants. He had enough sense, it seemed, to leave behind the suit jacket and hat but had chosen to keep the suspenders. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. Ever the gentleman.

“Look,” you addressed him directly for the first time. “I don’t have time to be your  babysitter. I need to find some gold and get the hell out of this shithole. So, I’d appreciate it if you could keep yourself out of trouble.”

He sized you up, eyeing your garb with an intelligence that was completely different  from the bumbling professor he had been mere minutes before. He  raised his eyes to meet your own and you struggled to not falter under his gaze.  His eyebrow quirked again, a sly smile on his lips. “You have quite the dirty mouth for a lady.”

You froze, fighting the urge to touch your cap. It’s still there, you’re okay. You could feel the wrappings on your chest and knew that they were intact as well. How did he . . .?

“I don’t know to what you are referring,” you kept your tone calm and cool.

“Don’t fret,” he responded, brushing off your glare. “I don’t think anyone else here has noticed.”

That did it. You grabbed his arm and pulled him along behind you, dodging the panners and workers that flitted about searching for the one thing that could make their lives less miserable. Finding a quiet alley between two tents you pushed him against the wall. The professor put his hands up in surrender, his eyes wide in surprise.

“Okay, talk,” you whispered. You were surrounded by chaos but who knew who may overhear. “How did you figure it out? Did someone tell you?” The minister’s wife?

He laughed, shaking his head. “No, no one told me. It’s just-”

You shook his shoulders, your brow furrowed. Here he was laughing when your future was literally at stake. “It’s just what?!”

He stopped laughing and looked at you. Really looked at you, his expression serious. “It’s just . . . you’re too pretty to be a boy. I could tell right away.”

Shocked, you released his arms and took a step back.

“It’s a miracle no one else has figured it out, really,” he continued. “Your walk is all wrong. You still walk like a lady, pretending there’s an invisible string that holds you up from your head. If you want to be believable, you have to walk pelvis first-” he demonstrated pushing his pelvis out and bending his knees before motioning at his stance “-like this.”

You snorted. “Well, it’s gotten me this far.”

“Well,” he replied, straightening himself up and brushing some dirt off his pants. It didn’t really help, he was still covered. “To be fair, you’re surrounded by idiots.”

You laughed. He was right there.

The professor held out his hand. “You can call me Namjoon.”

You looked at his outstretched hand for a second before relunctantly shaking it back.

“Y/N”

***

“So what is it you even do?” You asked bright and early the next morning. You had reported to Namjoon’s tent, as commanded, and stood there watching as he shoved some strange looking tools into his bag.

“My job,” he began, holding up a paintbrush. “Is to discover what minerals exactly are in the area around here and to learn as much about gold and how to find it as possible in the next few weeks.”

“And how,” you asked, watching him toss a few shovels into his bag. “Are you going to do that?”

“Well, my dear little guardian,” he tightened the latches on the bag and threw it over his shoulder, “why don’t you come along to find out?”

You followed him to a spot on the southern tip of a branch in the American river. From here the base appeared tiny and peaceful, the tents gently swaying in the breeze. It was another perfectly sunny day and you readjusted your cap to wipe the sweat off your brow  as you struggled to keep up. The professor may have appeared slim and studious but clearly, the man had some muscle on his bones because he was booking it up the trail.

Namjoon stopped when he reached a curve in the river far away from the other panners and plopped his bag on the ground.

“What do you know about gold, Y/N?” he asked, unlatching the bag to pull out a pan.

“That you can sell it and get a lot of money.”

Namjoon laughed. It was a pleasant sound that held none of the malicious intent you sometimes heard in the laughter of other men. Namjoon’s laugh was carefree and seemed to convey true joy. You liked it.

“Aye, yeah. You can indeed sell it and get a lot of money. Especially nowadays.” He dipped the pan into the running water, scooping up some of the grit down at the bottom and beginning to sift through it. “I was hoping you could tell me a bit more about gold. Like, where it comes from?”

“Isn’t that your job?” You remarked, sitting on a rock beside him, careful to avoid wet spots. He was mesmerizing to watch, the way his hands dipped in and out of the water, his long fingers searching through the grit when he thought he saw something that caught his eye.

“Come on, Y/N, give me something to work with here.”

You sighed, giving in. “A lot of gold is found in water. It’s malleable, hence why the warden bit the stone yesterday to prove that it wasn’t gold. Uhhh . . . it’s yellow?”

Namjoon chuckled as he made a selection from his pan. He held it up so that you could see the reflective deep yellow surface. The sun bounced off the metal making it hard to look anywhere but the gold that Namjoon had found in literally ten minutes.

“This,” Namjoon began. “Is true gold. Do you know how I can tell?”

You shook your head. Namjoon turned the rock over in his hands.

“One, as you already said, hardness.” He took a nail and flecked off a piece of the small rock. “See how it just scraped off there? That’s a telltale sign.”

“Second, smell. Pyrite sometimes has a slight sulfur smell when rubbed. Gold will not.” He handed you the gold. You turned it over in your hands before bringing it to your nose and inhaling. Nothing.

You met Namjoon’s eyes. “Nothing.”

“Third,” he continued. “Shape. Gold, as you can see is a small malleable lump. Pyrite, like the one yesterday, is larger and more cube-like in structure. More impressive to look at but, less money when sold.”

You nodded and handed the gold back to Namjoon. “How much would you estimate that piece to be worth? If you had to take your best guess?”

“Well,” Namjoon began. “I’m no jeweler. I’m better at finding the minerals than pricing them but if I had to hazard a guess . . . .huh. . . It’s quite a few ounces, at least. Honestly, quite a nifty little chunk there. I’d say possibly upwards of $500?”

Your jaw dropped open. “$500?”

Namjoon shrugged. “I mean, it’s a guess.”

“Holy shit!” That was more money than your father made in three months. You would know, you helped with the books.

“Well, anyway, that’s gold.” Namjoon shoved the gem in his pocket and stood up.

You darted up after him. “Wait, a second! That’s it! What are you going to do with that? Give it to the warden?”

Namjoon smirked at you. “I don’t work for the warden. I’m going to keep it. I need it for research anyway, that’s why I brought you here. Now, we study it.”

You stared at him. Shocked that he could care so little for the fiscal amount of the stone in his pocket. Namjoon, oblivious as normal, merely scooped his belongings into his bag and motioned for you to follow. “Come along, Y/N. We have a long day of documenting ahead of us.”

***

Life as Namjoon’s assistant wasn’t the worst thing ever. Most days would start with you both checking specific points around the river for gold, pyrite, and other expensive minerals. He would bring along a sketchbook and draw the most interesting ones or make a list of the scenarios in which they were found. You followed suit and eventually took over this part of the job for him, since your drawing was exponentially better.

If you were being honest with yourself, it was fun work. Namjoon was great company and always had a variety of fun stories to tell. You couldn’t believe the places he’d been, the environment in which he had grown up, and the people he had met along the way.

“Y’know,” he said one day after finishing a story about a strange magician he had met on the streets of Singapore. He  was bent over his desk, scribbling notes into a leather bound book. You were on the opposite side of the room, drawing some of the gold specimens you had gathered that day. The candles were low and the sun setting, providing a warm, evening glow inside the tent. You looked over at him, ink smudged on his chin and hair tousled from his messing. “You’ve had miraculous adventures yourself. Growing up in New York City? Traveling across the entire continent of North America, essentially alone, in search of a new future?” He looked up from his notebook, meeting your eyes from across the room. “It’s pretty impressive stuff.”

You shrugged, breaking eye contact to continue your sketch. “Not really. It was just survival.”

“That’s all adventures are, really,” he murmured, returning to his work. “Surviving.”

***

It was late one evening and the camp had finally quieted down. Namjoon had fallen asleep hours ago covered in a blanket in his favorite chair  next to the crackling fire while reading through some manuscripts. You were still awake, concentrating hard on a drawing you had started on a piece of pyrite the two of you had unearthed earlier. You were trying to get the cube like structure of the crystals perfect and it just wasn’t working.

Frustrated, you pressed too hard on your graphite snapping the tip. You flung it across the room with a noise of exasperation and nearly jumped out of your chair at the deep rumble of laughter that followed.

Your head turned to find Namjoon staring at you from across the room, his eyes half lidded with sleep and his hair in it’s permanently mussed state. “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been up for awhile.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have brought you some tea.”

“I like watching you work. It’s . . .” he seemed to be searching for the right word. “Mesmerizing.”

You averted your eyes to the floor struggling to keep the blush that had crept up into your cheeks from his view. You hoped he wouldn’t notice in the dim lighting. “I can’t imagine it’s all that interesting.”

“Believe me, it is.”

You met his eyes again and struggled to calm the rapid pace of your heart. When did Namjoon become so handsome? And why was he saying such things?

“Anyway,” you started, standing up from the desk. “It’s getting late and I should be getting to bed.”

“Would you like me to walk you back?” he asked, making to move.

You laughed. “Wouldn’t people find it strange that you’re walking your young male apprentice back to his tent late at night? Don’t want people to think you’re out here doing anything scandalous.”

He smiled at you. “Oh, I’m already a scoundrel in many ways, Y/N.”

You didn’t answer him but hid the smile it caused as you packed up your belongings and bid him farewell.

You pondered your relationship with him the entire walk across camp to your meager tent. With Namjoon, you could be yourself. He didn’t reprimand you for your use of ‘unladylike language’ or tell you to cross your legs when you sat. He also didn’t mind that you wore men's clothes or could outread him in a flat out race. He respected you enough to keep your secret and didn’t treat you any different when the two of you were alone in his tent, allowing you to assist in the work just as much as he.

It was amazing how fast acquaintances turned to friends in the West.

***

“I’m going into the mines today,” Namjoon announced one day, taking a long sip of his tea. He sat in a chair by his desk, flipping through one of his journals. You weren’t sure exactly what it was he was doing but you would be willing to bet money he was searching for some image of a cool rock you sketched a week ago.

“Why on earth would you willingly go into that shithole?”

Namjoon shot you a look before resuming his search. “That shithole, as you so eloquently put it, has apparently yielded some strange stone that the warden wants me to inspect. See if it’s worth any money.

You scoffed. Of course, the warden was searching for a profit, as usual. “Do you want me to come?”

Namjoon laughed. “Want? Yes. Need? No. You stay up here and keep checking the rivers for more pyrite or gold. See if you can find any more samples on the American. I won’t be long, and then I’ll join you.”

***

The hours passed slowly without Namjoon’s conversation. You didn’t think you would ever miss his incessant chatter about rocks and whatever cool facts he could spout on command, yet here you were. You were almost done checking the southernmost point of the American for any recent discoveries from the panners when the earth began to quiver.

You quickly gripped a nearby tree as the shaking intensified, small cracks breaking through the surface nearby. Men screamed as the earth let out another massive quake, and in the distance you could see the  tents swaying back and forth. You had felt some minor earthquakes on your journey over, but nothing as huge as this.

In a few seconds the earth settled, resuming her quiet existence, and you let out a breath you hadn’t known you were holding. You couldn’t wait to see Namjoon later and listen to him ramble on about tectonic plates and the earth’s molten core and whatever other nonsense you had grown fond of.

You stopped in your tracks. When had you grown fond of anything that ridiculous man did?

The realization of your feelings hit you like a wall and you barely moved out of the way in time as a group of men ran towards the camp.

“Hurry!” One of them shouts at you. “Pull yourself together, boy! The mine is collapsing! We need to get those people out!”

You blink, coming out of your stupor. The mine is collapsing?

Your eyes widened.

Namjoon is in the mine.

[herpronuonsarefemslash]

Do Not Tap the Glass - TEASER

Enjoy an ABO Supergirl / Jurassic Park (barely) crossover where Alex is a scientist for the Luthor Institute studying a mysterious "creature" that was found in the arctic ice, her wife Maggie definitely thinks pregnant Alex is sexy Alex, they go to a sex club together, and Lex throws Lena in with the beast...that maybe isn't a beast at all. Chapters 1-5 are public and Chapter 6 is Patreon exclusive.

Chapter 1 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1qpiYG0XLyuUU79_P2YTwG6IYR6GISse3/view?usp=sharing Chapter 2 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1EJlb75hUbGXdNAkkwPzW691XFS9AXx-d/view?usp=sharing Chapter 3 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1jE-f6E4McfFWKUXCX-ZhJWAg0XvHn1el/view?usp=sharing Chapter 4 -  https://drive.google.com/file/d/1HEcDBzNaB6qmZ2JkzInx46INWOyawfdC/view?usp=sharing Chapter 5 - https://drive.google.com/file/d/1SQaoF7H2aG1kVyhA35zFfQ5ZfK86lU3Z/view?usp=sharing Chapter 6 - https://www.patreon.com/posts/54672610 Alex has a ritual when she starts a new job: ride the bike in for confidence. Sadly, the list of 'required tools' she was asked to bring would never have fit in a bike. It would never have fit in Maggie's beloved 'princess plug' either, that silver Subaru with a bedazzled back hatch and two surfboards eternally attached to the rack.

Hence, renting a small U-Haul that drives like a dead whale. Maybe the Luthor Institute isn't really hiring her for her mind, maybe they just want her and her mom's research and devices. Lex Luthor has a scary rep in the academic community. He's probably just going to have someone shoot her as soon as she's buzzed in the gate.

Still. It's an interesting job because the not-interesting jobs don't come with 200-page non-disclosure agreements she signed, being watched by lawyers so clenched a punch-press and a vat of KY couldn't help them. It's a lot of money. It's enough money to put aside a million for their daughter by the time she graduates college. Once she finishes developing a spine, organs, and nervous system, that is. Alex was too busy puking to nickname the fetus, so Maggie stepped in.

Regrettably. Cervix-Kicker is just not something Alex can tease her slowly-swelling belly with, at least in public. Maggie's turn, next time. She's pretty sure there will be a next time. Alex suspects that pregnancy sex makes the case for the pregnancy itself, in Maggie's view.

Her phone lights up and a bonobo's shrieking voice comes out. Eliza recorded it during the early days of her fieldwork. Alex taps answer.

"Hey, Mom."

"Morning, sweetie.  How's the new job?"

=====

Nia rolls her eyes with such exaggeration it makes her fairy-dusted eyeshadow sparkle a bit in the sun.

"Come on, new girl," Nia teases. "I'll show you around."

"She will. She's basically in charge of the pep squad here," Frank teases. "When I started, I gained five pounds from all of the bonding lunches Nia organized."

"Did you complain?" Nia demands.

"I did not. And I do not regret a moment of it, kid. Someone will come unload the truck, doc. Thanks for bringing all your gear."

Frank tips his ball cap at Alex and goes back to the main group by the door.

"My mom's designs too." Alex mumbles. One accidental touch and she's blubbering out self-deprecation to near-strangers.

"Right," Nia chuckles. "The infamous Doctors Danvers. So is your kid going to be a world-renowned psych researcher does the third generation end up a bunch of losers who like, found the next Google?"

"Um, not sure. I have to meet them first."

"Shut the front door!" Nia exclaims. Her smile just went up about fifty thousand watts. "I was just joking but you're actually preggers."

"How ca-"

Alex glances at Nia's nametag. In the lower right is an omega symbol with an F beside it. Curiously, it even has the sub-status there even though that's unnecessary in the case of female omegas given the extremely low variation rate. Alex has never heard of subtypes being used outside of therapy or a doctor's office. Using them at work is legal--probably--but it's also downright bizarre. As an omega, Nia can not only smell the tiny changes in Alex's scent indicating she's pregnant, she can probably tell Alex what soap Maggie uses, along with her age, ethnicity, and most recent rut.

"They categorize us by status?" Alex asks. "How 1890s."

Nia sighs.

"Well, it's actually not so bad. There was a dude in maintenance who I thought was taking notes on my heat cycle. I mentioned something and the next thing I know there was this absolute unit of a woman from HR sort of shadowing me. Eating lunch, printing stuff to the copier we use, so on. Being obvious about it to, making sure he knew she had her eye on him. So they do use the information for the right reasons."

Any competent HR department could handle all that. Nia must realize that too.

"The creature. The creature can sense human genera and reacts to them."

Nia makes finger guns.

"Bingo. Got a nose like a bloodhound, that one. Even with the enclosure being vacuum-sealed and using completely different air, the creature catches it somehow."

=====

She nods towards the ruined hard drive, which has been ground and punctured and shaved to produce the bearings.

"I'm afraid I never made a backup."

"Fuck," Lex snarls.

She got Lex to curse in front of his men. Victory enough for one lifetime.

"Take her."

She lets the goons cuff her.

"Oh, and I injected myself with an agent that reacts violently with truth serum drugs. Violently and fatally."

"Which ones?" Lex demands.

"All of them. And I put an implant in my teeth with 2 grams of high explosive. So electrocuting me is out. We'll have to make a deal the old-fashioned way, brother."

Lex's pained bellowing is so sweet. ===== Lena's gurney is tilted back vertical and she's wheeled down a long hallway. A pair of armored doors buzz open.

It's a goddamned zoo enclosure. Gorilla enclosure, from the look of it. It reeks of alpha. Almost human. Almost sweet, even. A scent she wouldn't mind nuzzling into at night if she didn't know it was a beast's. Lex himself unclips her and tilts the gurney forwards, spilling her onto wood chips.

"Quite the specimen, I hear. She's used up three omegas so far," he sighs. "Maybe you'll fare better. Maybe you'll live long enough to get a pup in you. When you are ready to talk, press the red button."

Classic good old boy alpha thinking. Like many a single omega, Lena has guiltily indulged in rut non-con fantasies. So that's not quite the threat he thinks it is. Loss of control over the body and second-guessing whether it was consent or just surrender to the heat is Female Omega 101. She could maybe power through that. Close her eyes. Remember boarding school. Andrea and her flashing blue eyes and her exquisitely shaped cock -- ladylike, somehow -- long enough to slam the breath from Lena's lungs and her long hands closed over Lena's neck. Her affected machismo. Taking Lena like she was a mafia boss and Lena was some worthless whore from the back streets. Fulfilling that and any other roleplay Lena wanted.

This is a goddamned gorilla though. That's beyond the realm of kink.

She's in a puddle of light but the rest of the enclosure is dark. Too dark to see anything past her ankles.

That's when she hears it. Huffing. Panting. Too loud and to big a noise to be human lungs. Squelching. Grunting. Moaning.

A face spills out of the dark into the light. Matted blonde curls. Blue eyes glazed over with orgasm, drugs, or maybe in shock. The grunting increases in pace.

"So good, so good..." the blonde mumbles, throwing her head back and forth.

"Hi, Lena."

"Eve Tessmacher? Fuck. I thought you got fired."

=====

"Hey, Nia?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you go to my desk..." Alex begins before shame clamps her jaw shut. She's going to have to say it. Say it to a friend who is her employee and she wonders if the fancy toilet can be reprogrammed to drown her.

"Go to your desk and?" Nia prompts.

"Target bag. Sweatshirt and pants," she huffs.

"Copy that."

Alex catches her breath, then spanks the toilet paper roll over and over. She starts cleaning up. Nia's a good kid. In both the psychological and physical sense had painful days herself--phantom ruts colliding with her desired heat cycle--and she and Alex worked out a system. With it, Alex could sneak her pot chocolate from the cooler in Nia's car, sign it in on her behalf at security, hit the vending machine, and meet her in the breakroom like it's nothing.

Their friendship started out the way a thousand five-minute friendships do in bars. Nia asked for an opinion and Alex assured her she looked cute and that her blind date would love it. The guy turned out to be a moron but the resulting debrief cemented their dynamic.

She's not sure how someone can go from acquaintance to best friend, to kid sister in less than a month. She only knows Nia did.

=====

The member lot is small and the gold member lot is smaller still. Perhaps thirty stalls and mostly full.

Maybe when you spend this much on VIP access to a sex club, it makes sense to spend every weeknight there. Eliza didn't volunteer a number for the membership she bought Alex and Maggie but both she and Alex assumed that down payment on a house would be Eliza and Jeremiah's contribution. She probably went with this out of fond memories of her own years studying at UC National City. If she and Jeremiah ever shared an omega playmate, it would've been somewhere like here. Somewhere deniable.

"Look, babe," Julia whispers, pointing at the engravings in the concrete of the marked stall that Maggie is gradually working their Prius into, sliding it between a Range Rover and a Suburban.

"AD and MS, sponsored by EG?" Alex mumbles.

"Founder sponsored," Julia adds, pointing out something in smaller print and filling the right half of Maggie's vision with creamy cleavage and her lungs with candy-sweet scent of a willing omega.

"I fucking knew it," Maggie chuckles. "Your mom was one of the people that started this place."

"No!" Alex squawks. "Absolutely fucking no!"

"You park," Julia chuckles. "I'll distract her from herself."

[devilbat]

Dr. Jekyll and Mistress Hyde

A/n: 2nd one shot of my classic movie monster list.

Warning: just porn no plot. Whole lot of smut. And rough at that. Some dirty talk.

Loki x reader

It was another stormy night. Thunder rumbled, getting louder as it neared. Sounding like Thor and Loki were at it again. Lightning flashed a cross the dark lit sky. Another late night in the lab. Working hard as always. Mixing several types of liquid compound for non lethal weapons. Tony and Bruce had both left for the day. Beings there was a group of other going to the nearest bar. They had invited you, but you declined. You were to shy to go out. Even if you knew Loki would be there. You had always been the shy quiet girl, that kept herself in the lab. Only really talking with Tony and Bruce. You social skills weren't the best. When nervous or your social anxiety kicked in you would start rambling on about different periodic table compounds and what there use was. Something that could make a toddler fall asleep. So you avoided people like the plague.

Thunder boomed over head this time making you a tad bit jumpy. In hindsight you probably should had stopped what you were currently pouring into the small beaker. But when the door suddenly swung open. You jumped pouring red substance over yourself. Next thing you knew was the room was spinning, and everything went black.

          When you woke you felt quite a bit different. This growing need, hunger. An animalistic need. Still feeling a bit dizzy you headed to your room, and straight for the shower. Washing whatever you had spilled on yourself. Stepping out you looked in the mirror. You looked the same but the desire in you grow hungry. Decided it might be a good idea to finally get out.

         Loki was in mid conversation with his brother when you walked in. At first it took him a moment to realize it was you. The form fitting dress, left not much to the imagination like your normal attire. It shocked him to see his little kitten showing off her claws. Sure you weren't his, but he would surly dream about you as such. There was something about your shy, quiet demeanor that draw Loki to you. Your cute little squeaks when he would Surprise you unintentionally. But now you looked to be on the hunt. As you swooped over to a group of guys asking any of them if they would like to buy you a drink. Batting you eyes at them, biting on your lower lip. Which was obviously working. Loki observed this new behavior of your. Keeping a keen eye on the mortal men.

        It was an hour in you had two men on your arm. They practically pawed at you. Loki had about enough. This was ridiculous, this wasn't you. You were shy and sweet, it was like something switch. His sweet little Dr. Y/n Jekyll. Turned into some kind of sex craved monster. Loki staked towards you before you could leave with anyone. His eyes narrowed in on you. As he grabbed ahold of you arm swung you around.

          "What are you doing y/n?" Loki hissed ignoring the two worthless mortals. You batted your eyes at loki almost innocently.

           "What a girl can't have some fun?" You asked Sickeningly sweet. "It was stuffy in the lab and I needed to get a little frustration out. So if you will. I'm going to go have my fun and hopefully fill." You winked as you tried to walk  away. Loki's grip on your wrist tightened. Before you knew it, you were in your bedroom. Tuning on your heels to glare at loki. "What the hell Loki?"

           "You are not about to let some pathetic mortal ravish you. You are most certainly not in your right mind. And haven't been for a few days now." Loki growled, he towered over you. The way loki was being all possessive, turned you on. Taking a step towards him. Before he could yell at you more. Your hands gripped around his black tie pulling him down to meet your lips. Kissing him roughly. Loki only froze for a moment, then pulling away from you. Still only few inches from you, your hand still tightly around his tie. Your free hand moved over his lean torso.

         "I always wanted to know what was under these suits." You purred. "What wonders hide under them." You hand made its way downward. With in minutes your roaming hand was Caught by Loki's.

          "What in the nine realms has gotten into you woman." Loki grumbled, pulling your hand  away.

       "Nothing, but if it’s not you ravishing me, then I'll just find someone else." You said like it was nothing. Like you were not trying to seduce him. "There's this itch deep inside me that need to be scratched. Well more like fucked out of me. I was hoping you would be the one to help me." Purring as your other hand moved from his tie, happily found its way to a painfully hard and ready covered bulge. You looked down at his twitching cock, then back up into those eye. You giggled before bitting your lip. Palming him throw his pants.

         "Darling this isn't you." Loki moaned out. Trying to keep himself in control. But slowly losing that battle. "You would regret it in the morning."

         "I'm shocked Loki, the way you look at me. Like I'm a cherry just waiting to be popped. " pulling away from him. Slowly pulling your dress down. Revealing full perky breasts to him. "Just right for the taking." You hands rubbed over your heavy breast teasing him, taunting him. “To be ravished by a god." You moaned, stepping closer to loki again, slipped out of the dress. The sound of fabric hitting the floor. Was louder then Loki would ever thought. But his eye never looking down as you stood in front of him completely bare.

             "Do you know how wet you make me Loki. How much I desire for you to fuck me hard claiming as yours. Ruining me for any other man." You moaned out, your hands roamed over your body. You finger dipping between your thighs. Slowly running your fingers along your wet fold collecting your arousal. You could hear the low growl Loki made, even if he tried to hide it. He watched your fingers dipped between lovely thighs. Pulling your covered fingers from your thighs. Bring them up to your mouth, placing them between your full lips, sucking them clean before removing them with a pop. Even in heels you had to tiptoe to reach Loki's lips, pressing your naked form against him. Taking his lips with your. Loki could tase what was left on your lips. Driving him insane with lust.

           Loki growled pulling away, glancing down at your naked form, it was what he had always pictured your body would look like Valhalla, in the form a mortal woman. You took a step back giving the god more of a view. You tuned on your heels and sauntered towards the bed, before crawling across it. Beckoning Loki to follow. Which he willingly obeyed. Loki reaches the edge of the bed. You backside wiggled at him. With a giggle you looked over your shoulder.

        "Please Loki." You begged, feeling his hand roam over you ass. You push back against his cool palm. Wanting more of him. It was evident on how wet you were for him. You juices trickling down your luscious thighs. His other hand swiped along them. His hand covered in your arousal.

          "By the gods." Loki groaned, how could he deny such a sight before him. You so eagerly willing to have him clam you. His thumb ran along your folds, making you gasp and moan for him. "I wouldn't even need to prepare you. You are soaking wet, and oh so ready for my cock to fuck that little cunt of yours.

       "Yes, Loki all of this is ready for you fuck me ruthlessly into unconsciousness." You whimpered, wiggling against his thumb wanting more friction. Loki didn't leave you wanting for much longer, losing the battle with his morals. He freed him self of his clothing with magic. He grabbed a hold of your hips pulling you to the edge of the bed. Not giving you time to do anything other then scream out when his cock thrusted into your entrance. His his left hand digging into your hips, pulling you into each hard deep thrust. His right hand fisted into your hair. Pushing you face into the mattress.

        You walls clinched tightly around his huge cock. The felling of his cock deep inside you, had you feeling overly full it was almost painful. But it felt to damn good to give any care. He pounded into you like no other has. You moaned, screamed for more. You were so close Loki could feel it too. He slowed his thrust almost to a stop, making you whine. Your attempt to look up at him failed as he hand held your head in place against the mattress.

           "You don't get to cum yet. You were practically begging for me to fuck you! And now that I am pet, you don't get to cum until I say so." He yanked your hair.

         "Please Loki, I want to cum around your cock." You whines, your eyes begging him. Feeling his cock twitch inside of you. You tried to grind yourself against him. Only for you to receive a hard slap to your ass making you yelp and almost jump off his cock.

          "No," Loki growled inot your ear. "This is for teasing me. By flirting with those pathetic mortals." He pulled his cock out from your seeping core. "For trying to bed them." He slammed back into you. You cried out. Then he slowly pulled back out. "For Threatening to go find another when I deny you." Loki slammed back into you. Then slowly pulled out. He did this repeatedly after each sentence. Making you a withering, whining, moaning mess. He knew torture and he was taking it out on you. "So again pet." He stayed still inside of you. "You will do as your told. And will be aloud to cum, when I've have filled you with my own cum. And maybe then I will allow you, your release." He pulled out of you once more. "Do you understand me?" Pulling you head up by your hair. You nodded slowly.

          "Use your words little one." He growled.

          "Yes, Loki." You gasped out. Loki released your hair, you dropped back down as he did so.

           "Now be a good girl, and turn around open that whore of a mouth.” You did as he commanded. His cock standing high and proud in front your face. Loki grabbed your chin and his cock placing it against your mouth. "Now I'm going to fuck that slut out of you and maybe it will teach you not to tease, or throw yourself to another man. You my little toy and mine only." Grabbed the back of your head he pushed you forward, your mouth greedily wrapped around his member. "Now suck."

          Doing as you were told to do, you sucked on him hard. Bobbing your head up and down his length. You hand pumping what you couldn’t get. His hand stilling holding your head in place. Your tongue pressed hard along the underside of his hard cock. Loki twitched and throbbed in side you mouth. Loki moaned and praised you. You had him close to coming, befor he harshly pulled you off his cock.

          "What a greedy little girl. Wanting my cum so soon. He have yet to finish with you." He smirked placing himself on the bed. His hand petted you cheek. "Sense you wanted to fuck me so bad. I want you to ride my cock, until I cum." He laid there his hands moved behind his head. You Crawled on top of him. Straddling his hips, your core dripping as you easily slid down his length. First your started grinding against him. You hands on either side of his head. Your lips against his. "That's it pet. Fuck yourself on my cock." His breath fanned over your lips.

          Pulling yourself away from his lips. You started

Bouncing up and down his swelling cock. Picking up your pace. Trying to hold your own Orgasm back. You took him deep and hard. He twitched and spasms as he found his release, Lazily thrust into you. Ropes of his cool cum shot deep inside your warm and welcoming cunt. Filling you fuller then you have ever been. His cum Leaking out of you.

          "Gods, that's it. Take all of what I have to give you." He moaned out. His thumb found your soaking clit, pushing hard circles long it. His free hand kneaded your breasts. Flicking, pinching at harden buds. It was enough to make you scream, your walls griping him tightly. “Cum around my cock.” Finally came the build up had you gushing hard. Leaving a mess on him and the bed. You collapsed onto his chest. Both of you panting heavily.

         You woke up with a start. You had passed out shortly after falling on to Loki's chest. Your body felt sore. You felt this odd feeling of being full. When your legs stretched you felt odd wetness sensation between your thighs. There was also A presence behind you. You peaked over your shoulder, seeing Loki sleeping face. Your eyes widened when you realize what had happened. Not knowing what to do. You slowly pulled yourself out of the bed. Well tried only for arms to wrap around your waist pulling you back in.

        "Good morning my little minx's. Or should I say Doctor Jekyll. I see mistress Hyde left." Loki hummed. Kissing the back of your neck.

         "I-Loki I'm so sorry. I didn't know what got into me. One minute I was in the lab and the next I was using you for my own pleasure. I-I shouldn't have done that." You stammered out. Loki raises himself onto his elbows, look over at you. You hide your face from him. Making Loki chuckle, he pulling your chin carefully, unlike last night. Your doe eyes looked at him horrified.

         "You didn't use me. I took my own pleasure from you as well. But the real question is little one. Did you enjoy yourself?" Him cooed his thumb stroking your jaw. You nodded shyly hiding your face into his palm.

        "Then that is all that matters. Do not apologize. Now if you would like. Let me take care of your body." Loki kisses you tenderly. "Would you like that?" You nodded again shyly. "That's my shy little one. I take care of what's mine. Both of you." As he laid you back down kissing each bruise, bite, and scratch he had left last night. Even if his body looked the same as yours.

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Tom/Loki Tag's: @theoneanna @graveyard-groupie @silverquartx @moonfaery @kcd15 @moonlightprime @youveseen--thebutcher @shockwavee @sabine-leo @screw-real-life-i-pick-fandoms @vethrvolnir, @darkprincessloki92 @archy3001 @chaoticwithpurpose @paanchu786 @metalheadspider @myownviperroom @arosewithdaisies @jilldsumner @daughterofsunandmoon93 @too-cold-for-youhere @iamverity @sterwild @hiddlefan81 @matczvkv @desimarie12 @leser-alert @cest-le-temps-de-lamour @lucantis @sherlokiholland @kryptonite2116 @justthatfangirloverthere @littleredstarfish @amore-p-siche

[malwarewolf404]

[[disclaimer: I will be using the words biomale and biofemale in this post several times in an attempt to avoid confusion as to the point I’m trying to make. I do not intend to upset or alienate anyone who is intersex or does not otherwise conform to binary physical sex in any way. Thank you.]]

Let’s put together a little thought experiment. You take 100 sexually mature biomales and 100 sexually mature biofemales, both with no knowledge of society beyond this social group, and drop them on an uninhabited tropical island. They have all the resources, food and water, and even materials to make clothing and textiles not far behind from what we have in modern day, perhaps even unique ones to the culture they will eventually create.

Terfs and other denominations of trans-denialists would have you believe some very strict rules would be set up immediately. The biomales would hunt or gather, build, and perhaps begin to create the rituals or beliefs that might one day become a religion, and eventually a societal culture. The biofemales might be relegated to the role of caring for the society’s homes but perhaps not in the way one might expect (when trying to view this thought experiment through the lense of someone who has some particularly backwards ideas about womanhood being equated to the ownership of a uterus that is.) Perhaps terfs would have some more progressive ideas regarding the role of the biofemales, and sure, a matriachal society in which biofemales are responsible for the creation of societal culture isn’t at all outside the realm of possibility by any regards. In the spirit of trying to frame this argument as something a particularly progressive Terf might come up with, let’s say this is the case. Biofemales are the owners of family names and all social status, and biomales are relegated to the duties of cleaning, maintaining, and providing for the settlement.

Now before I actually make my argument, I will say I’m no terf at all. I am not a biofemale person who believes transwomen are rapists invading female-exclusive spaces like wlw. I can only imagine what a terf would come up with when presented with the thought experiment, and because I cannot be fucking bothered to interact with a terf on the issues of gender and biological sex (oh god could you fucking imagine.) That said, I believe I understand the perspective and beliefs of a person with that sort of mindset enough to construct this imaginary facsimile of the thought experiment from a terf’s perspective. Or, maybe I’m dead wrong, in which case I’m sure they’ll tell me. Just gonna quickly address them here:

Hello eager, anticipatory terfs! I’m sure you all have been waiting with bated breath for a post like the first bit of this one to come along so that you can reply in all sorts of flowery ad hominem language, saying things like “I hope you die in a fire you dickless pig-fucker!” Or, even better “Of course this pitiful excuse for a MALE would just LOVE to come up with his own approximation of what we, FEMALES, must be thinking!” I can assure you right now though, I’m not going to reply to any comments like that. I know that’s probably a real turn off for you, probably nixed any motivation to even keep reading this post, I understand. That said, this first part of the argument doesn’t matter, I only included it so that I might have some sort of control to weigh against my own imagination of the thought experiment. Additionally, I reached out to my three sisters about the ideas that a terf truscum person might have about the thought experiment. Here are their responses.

Buddy it’s 4 in the morning in California I can’t fucking read a three page paper this early.

What the fuck? Why would I want to put myself in the headspace of a trans-exclusionist? Why are you even asking me this? What is this for? What the fuck bro.

What’s a terf

Not as enlightening as I had hoped sadly. Anyways, I want to emplore you, please continue to read. I have a lot to say about this imaginary society and what I believe their ideas about gender conformity says about us. I think you might actually see some things in a different light than our incredibly polarized and entrenched societal beliefs would have you observe the issue. If that sounds like something that interests you, please read on.

So, this society. 100 biomales and 100 biofemales. And what do I believe it would look like? Well, I’ll tell you, but first I want to touch on a separate aspect than those I covered in my facsimile of a “terf” island society, and that’s sexuality. The reason I didn’t bring it up at all is because the fact is, many terfs are gay or bisexual women. They are real people with their own feelings and damage and ideas about what it means to be wlw. While I may have momentarily felt only slightly uncomfortable creating the idea of a “terf” island society and talking about its concepts of gender identity and social expectations placed on our imaginary island refugees completely in a vaccuum with no real input from actual women, being a wlw is not an issue I can even begin to comprehend, much less create my own ideas of what an idealized island society would look like to a wlw. It was a bridge too far, and I will not speak over real women with real opinions about what that is like. In fact, if you do identify as a woman (trans or not,) please feel free to share your own input on how you feel my facsimile “terf” scenario might be improved/ammended.

With all that said, let me say that I am now choosing to bring sexuality to the court because I am a gay man/nb person, and can speak to my own experiences and the experiences of others I know about sexuality. Additionally, from a terf’s perspective, the gender identity issue is one irreversibly entwined with sexuality.

So, a society with 100 biomales and 100 biofemales. What would it look like to me? Well, firstly, I don’t think the society would be so divided by gender as the imaginary terfs (or for that matter, most traditional people cough cough) would have you believe. Anyone who’s been to a public highschool knows that BOTH males and females are athletic. Both sexes are creative. Both sexes are capable of being responsible and loving parents. The problem we encouter with trying to frame everything into “men do this women do that” categories is that that is what our traditions and society have programmed us into believing is the norm. This society has none of that programming. Because of this, I do not believe this society would devolve into such a simplistic and arbitrary culture as “you have a penis so you go hunt and gather.” Instead, why not imagine a society where people’s individual talents and skills take precedence over their sex in regards to what role they are able to fulfill in this society? Perhaps you are a biomale, yet you have a very nurturing and caring instinct. Why not serve as a midwife and care for the village’s infants? Perhaps you are a biofemale, but are very athletic. Perhaps then, you would best serve the society as a hunter, no? I think you get what I’m getting at, and I don’t think anyone, even terfs, would disagree with me that gendered societal roles are a pretty dated concept that does not line up with what we understand of real people living in situations like this. They are a biproduct of western civilization’s traditions, and are not at all the norm in dozens of non-western societies.

So, if we can agree that there most likely wouldn’t be overarching end all be all gender roles in society, where is the issue exactly? Well, it’s this: some members of our society do not fall into the traditional gender roles associated with their biological sex. So, what about in this society, where there are no meticulously well-rooted gender roles? It stands to reason that without these gender roles, people would be able to do what they wanted, dress how they wanted, love who they wanted, free of prejudice or judgement. Obviously I am GREATLY oversimplifying a very complex issue, but live with me in the bit for a moment. What would you be in a world free from discrimination on the basis of biological sex, gender, or sexuality. There would be no traditions saying “you can’t do this because you’re this.” Who would you become? Who would you have the boldness and the freedom to be? Now, a pre-agricultural society that hasn’t even developed traditions or laws is hardly the most desirable place to imagine oneself living, but just think for a moment. No glass ceiling. No homophobic. No oppression on the basis of sex.

Now, I already have a good idea of what people are going to say about this post. “Tearing down the borders of gender and sexuality would only render our understanding of LGBTQIA ideas completely useless.” “There ARE certain things males are more inclined to do than women, biologically speaking. R*pe seems to come to mind.” “By refusing to give your imagined society any gender roles you have essentially made a moot point about what it means to be trans in our society.” Perhaps more broadly, “this thought experiment is dumb and you should feel bad.”

But here’s the thing. I’m not making this post in hopes of “dunkin’ on terfs” or even really challenging anyone’s opinions on anything. I have absolutely no hope that this dumb, worthless, ~3,000 word thought experiment will do any of that, let alone get any amount of notes. I only wanted to talk about this to put my own mind at ease in imagining a world I, a casual non-binary person, could exist without having to justify or prove myself as non-binary. I could, in my imaginary society, simply be myself. I could look up at stars. I could talk to gods of the wind on stillwater, of the sunlight through the palm fronds, and of the moonlight’s pale glow on the sand. I could do all of these things without constantly being percieved as a man because of the way I presented or behaved. And, I could find a masculine partner to be with, free of judgement.

“But Malwarewolf!” You cry, pleadingly. “What about all the people born as one sex that wish to transition into another sex? They would have no way of doing that in this imaginary society!! As a trans person, I do not experience the same satisfaction you do in this concept!”

This is, perhaps, the biggest hole in my argument. However, just because a person is born as one sex and wishes to transition in a relatively (oh, how do I say this without offending a lot of people,) quaint society doesn’t mean they’re just damned to live in a state of dysphoria or unhappiness with their body. I would argue, they might be able to live happier lives than trans people in our society do, existing as a fully welcomed and accepted member of society, with no oppression or suppression of their very valid desires to exist as they opposite sex. I would further argue that in a society without the proper foreknowledge and tools to perform gender-reassignment surgery, individuals who might identify as “trans” in our society would instead be free to express themselves however they wanted to instead of having to adopt a particular appearance or sex-identifying features to adhere to their non-existent gender roles. This is, very possibly, how the polynesian “third genders” came to be, such as Māhū in Hawaii and Tahiti, Fakaleiti in Tongan peoples, and Fa’afafine in Samoa. Now, these third genders are very important to many polynesian cultures and have very specific spiritual and societal roles in the island’s cultures respectively, the extent of which I am no way qualified to speak about (but would absolutely LOVE if some native Hawaiians could weigh in on!) It should be noted however, that a Māhū person can be born either male or female.

I say all of this to say, gender is a highly complex and winding topic. I could go on waxing poetic about my day-dream life in this idyllic society, but if you’ve made it this far in the post, you’ve probably had enough of that. Thank you so much for reading this far into a fucking hypothetical concept of all things. I will close by saying unironically, I’m gay as fuck, trans rights are human rights, and lastly trans-exclusionists if I see you bullying people in the comments I will suplex you through a plywood board.

I love you all and have a wonderful day.

[howtotalktoagirlonfacebook]

Exactly How To Attract 999 Of Women 5 Alpha Male Tricks

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Being chronically uncaring is so efficient at making women nuts concerning you for a difficult mess of reasons. But the major factor is that everyone wants what they can't have, and everyone is mystically fascinated by that, which they can't manage and fellas, that's why being a bad-ass loose could not care.

Less alpha male is so damn irresistible. Oh, you know, what else is irresistible key, manly expertise, proven to obtain women to stress over you, yet the most detailed old Sanskrit degree wisdom regarding the artist's deductions completely worthless. If you do not recognize the main factors women believe you desire attractive, yet Hey, do not flip out due to the fact that I'm going to share a few of that valuable details with you at the end of the video clip.

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Do not bury on your own. Academic studies of destination are numerous and the extent is extremely wide, yet there is one item of common ground that scientists continually find concerning the legislation of attraction. And that is that also in the 21st century of online dating and also social media folks often tend to come to be brought in to those they're around and interact with routinely.

Like classmates colleagues or colleagues one huge and all too typical blunder alpha men often make is to cut themselves off from opportunity while they're out there in the world, kicking ass and also taking names much lesser guys are scooping up the single women simply because they're present in quest of their passion and obtain shit done.

This, they neglect to require time off to put themselves out there, which leads us to our last verdict. The fastest way to drive females away is to be chronically preoccupied with your daily grind and ultimately inaccessible. So bear in mind. Quit working so hard periodically, it is very important to pause and put on your own out there to develop an opportunity for your crush to notice you.

Or if you don't have a crush after that to go find one in the first place, gents, today, we're revealing you 12, purely instinctive, absolutely subconscious indications that a woman likes you by this point. You recognize, it's not always easy to understand if a lady is actually interested. Is she playing games or is it genuine?

What could be chemistry field flirtation for one lady? May only be standard run of the mill kindness for an additional. Which's why today we're showing you 12 subconscious indications of tourist attraction and also the one shateringly obvious indicator that a girl is most definitely not brought in to you. Number 12, she breaks from her besties.

Hey, have you ever before saw exactly how girls constantly start the night out by only dancing with each other? The reason for that is due to the fact that they feel most comfy with their closest friends. Which in many cases is other girls, yet it's a legislation of nature. A girl in her team are hard to divide. Not just are they usually friends, yet they likewise act as kind of bodyguards for each other by keeping away any type of undesirable attention.

So what are we getting at women stick together at the very least semi unconsciously out of a feeling of safety and security. And also what that suggests is that if a lady you're talking with separate herself from her squad to socialize with you alone, you far better think she's interested due to the fact that not just is she leaving the enjoyable crew that she was available in with, she's also revealing her buddies that she recognizes she remains in excellent hands with you.

And also they don't have to worry. Number 11, the following in the huge, large bulk of instances, body movement, isn't only non-verbal, it's additionally mainly non-conscious. As well as most of the moment it informs you every little thing you need to know. So, what should you try to find first? One of the greatest, many fundamental body language giveaways, when it involves tourist attraction is to merely lean or fall in towards the other individual.

Think about it. The women fall in to obtain closer to men. They do not such as possibly not. To make sure that indicates if she's literally leaning in your direction, even if it's from a considerable range. She's probably feeling your ambiance. Number 10, answer seeking. Right here's something to remember the following time you speak with a woman prior to you obtain a possibility to state anything, that girl has actually instantly unconsciously developed a story about you in her mind.

However the only thing exists are unavoidably some components on the story that are missing out on. Now, if she doesn't appreciate the missing out on parts, she'll carry on and will not seem fascinating. Yet if she's interested. The only point entrusted to do is to obtain some of those inquiries responded to. So if you're speaking with a girl as well as she keeps looking for out more regarding you, that's virtually most definitely due to the fact that she's allow her interest lug her away towards view number 9, face exploration, as you recognize, well, over fifty percent of communication is entirely non-verbal as well as ground zero for that quiet and also subconscious communication is what takes place through facial expression.

Just like a woman will certainly constantly find a way to obtain her inquiries answered regarding you. She'll also be exploring your face to discover as high as she can. And the reason is easy. While your words claim one thing, your facial expressions speak on a different degree. And in a lot of cases, a more honest one. So if she appears focused on your eyes and mouth and also your nose as well as cheeks, it's not since she's attempting to make you stress over nose hairs or that area is cutting today.

It's simply her naturally attempting to discover your quirks. You understand, the little things she actually likes about you as well as how you truly feel. Number 8, she's a soft group. Here's a real age, old examination of subconscious destination. Next time you're with a lady, claim something, you know, is in fact sort of stupid, not clearly stupid, but just a little, you recognize, low initiative.

If she giggles immediately, you recognize, she enjoys you, you may've noticed this with other individuals, a woman laughing as well as smiling at a person that actually hasn't stated anything. All that amusing. Well, right here's the thing regarding making a lady laugh. A lot of the moment, what you claim does not even require to be unbelievably amusing or perhaps that original, since 9 times out of 10, below's, what's truly occurring behind the scenes.

When a girl laughs at something you claim it's usually driven by the truth that she's enduring purposely strengthening the tourist attraction. That's currently there. Basically. She currently suches as, you intends to make fun of right stuff you claim to see to it she remains to like you. No, as with everything in life, there are exemptions to the policy, yet if she's simple to get a laugh out of, that's commonly good information.

Number 7, stoke matching. Almost the only point far better than speaking with a woman you like is to talk to a lady that's equally excited to speak to you in the dating video game. That's, what's known as chemistry and all chemistry begins and also upright an entirely subconscious level. So exactly how can you tell if a girl is thrilled to chat?

Well, there are a couple of means. If you message, she texts back rather swiftly. If you see each other in public, she does not wait to find up as well as say hi, and if you approach her, she makes a few adjustments to her position, her hair, or her clothing. Exhilaration takes lots of types, gents. However if you pick up that she's eager to speak or amazed by your attention, that's what you want to see.

Number 6 sensory override touch is among those things that's driven by a pretty primal part of the brain before we ever before also talk. We learn how to communicate with get in touch with first and not just do people require to be touched, they likewise need to touch so much. So actually, That when our restraints are overwritten by something like claim solid destination, we'll touch without also thinking of it.

Now as a whole, our culture has a tendency to be rather touchy about touch and for good reason, due to the fact that also for ladies relatively innocent touching can be high-risk. Generally, girls are on high alert and also totally mindful about how they literally involve with others. All to say that if a woman is touching you, it's because her natural need to get closer is outweighing a rather engaging need to be careful.

Hey people, if you like my knowledge, keep watching because we have actually obtained 5 more signals that a lady unconsciously likes you. As well as at the end of this video clip, we're going to show you one extremely misinterpreted signal. That individuals generally miss out on. All right, allow's start. Number 5. Conceal off for the same reasons why women might hold back on touching a person.

They such as, she may also maintain her faces from handing out her tourist attraction. Generally women camouflage their interest by sort of squashing out their expressions, straight lips, neutral eyebrow line, marginal movement all around, you understand it, when you see it. And also it becomes part of the reason why. Some women get the online reputation of being a little cold.

In some cases it's simply how it is. So what does that mean for you? It implies that if a lady is smiling, raising her eyebrows, making eye get in touch with, and essentially lifting up her facial expressions with the timeless signs of overlooked passions. It's due to the fact that she's determined that you're a hero. She can rely on sufficient to let her safeguard down.

Number 4, the auto look. All right currently. This one's a classic while repeated as well as extended eye contact is clearly an excellent thing. There's one other, widely known absolutely subconscious free gift that a woman sent to you modify is the laugh and appearance or what we such as to call the vehicle appearance. Right here's exactly how it works.

The next time you're in a group of the woman. See if you can find where she looks, when something amusing takes place, if it's you who she's checking out, that's her naturally choosing you to share that enjoyable moment with this is a body movement sensation. That's quite well-documented by psychologists. People in a group,

[redbeardace]

Asexuality Activism Report Card

[This post is a submission for the October Carnival of Aces, hosted by @asexualawarenessweek, on the theme “Reaching In, Reaching Out”]

Every year around Ace Week, I tend to give encouragement and suggestions about the type of outreach or activism we can do.  This year, I’m going to do things a little different and instead give a report card on where I think we are in terms of various kinds of activism/outreach/visibility.

These are solely my opinions and my categories and are based on my experiences and not any kind of exhaustive research or survey.  Please feel free to provide your own grades and suggest other areas I might have missed.  I also want to note that these grades are not an indictment or attack on any particular group, person, or project.  If you’re working on any of these things, you’re part of the solution and your work will make these grades improve over time, so keep at it!

And if you’re doing any of these things, please plug your projects, so people will know about them!

Intra Community - A

We focus an awful lot of energy inward, and that’s a good thing.  Extending a helping hand, providing resources, hosting chatrooms, making podcasts, organizing meetup groups, writing lengthy blog posts, hosting conferences and unconferences, selling t-shirts...  We’re doing a pretty good job supporting each other from the inside.

Queer Community - B

There are quite a few mainstream LGBTQ groups who openly support us.  We often hold our meetups at the queer community center in town.  Many aces are involved with LGBTQ organizations.  There’s an ace group who goes to Creating Change every year.  We’re an obligatory part of many organizations’ Pride messaging.  Lots of groups now deliberately use the “LGBTQIA” variant of The Acronym, and make it clear that “A” isn’t for “Allies”.  The ace group in the NYC Pride Parade this year (likely the biggest pride parade ever) was deliberately selected to be the 10th contingent, which is a huge deal because the parade was literally 12 hours long.

There are obviously challenges.  The uninformed who don’t understand why we’re at the table.  The deliberate trolls who relentlessly hound us online.  But those people will become irrelevant over time.

Unfortunately, this year marked the first time where I saw Rainbow Capitalism set its sights on us.  (With a big name ace group complicit in the exploitation...)  So that’s not good.

Everyone Else - D

We are not doing well in this area.  There are a few people out there who have heard of asexuality, but not many.  Most people use the word wrong or as the insulting punchline to a joke.  There isn’t a single household name who has come out as asexual and put themselves out there as an advocate.  It’s better than it was 8 years ago, but we’re still mostly invisible.

I don’t really have any suggestions here (except that if you’re famous and asexual, COME OUT), because most of the suggestions I’d have are covered in the other areas.

Direct Outreach - F

By “Direct Outreach”, I’m referring to deliberately trying to find people who are asexual but who are unfamiliar with the term or that do not recognize that they’re asexual for whatever reason.  It’s sort of a subset of a lot of these other groups.  (And it could probably use a better name...)

I’m calling this out explicitly, because I think this can have the most impact, if we can figure out effective ways of doing it, and I don’t think anyone’s really doing this.  (I sort of tried, but it didn’t really work out...) Basically, it would be able getting information about asexuality in front of the people who need it.  Taking over the search results for “Why don’t I want sex?”.  Writing articles about how some guys just don’t care about that sort of thing for a men’s magazine.  Maybe even a direct person to person conversation with that friend who never seems to date.  I don’t know, exactly.  If I knew, I’d be doing it.  But I think it needs to be done.

Fiction Media - C+

There are books with ace characters now!  Pretty much entirely YA, though.  And either a love story focused on the asexual character being asexual, or where asexuality is a tangential inclusion token with no real value.

There are TV shows with positive ace characters now!  Huge step forward from lows of Better Half!  Three shows, in fact!. Two of which have been canceled, and the third of which is about to have its final season.  And none of which are anywhere close to the popularity of House.  And none of which are anywhere close to the popularity of another show which completely erased a main character’s canon asexuality.

There are movies with ace char-  Oh no, no there aren’t.  Never mind.  Same with video games.

While some strides have been made, and having productions actively consulting with groups like Ace LA is a huge step forward, we’re still largely living an area of headcanons and unverified conjecture and Word Of God retcons.  There’s so much more than can be done.

Most importantly, we shouldn’t fawn over and praise any little scrap of hope.  Demand better.

If you’re in a position to make things, make them.  If you’re in a position to influence things to be made, influence them.  If you’re in a position to boost content that is made, boost it.

Non-Fiction Media - C-

There are starting to be articles about asexuality that go beyond the typical sensational “There are some people who claim to be asexual, can you believe that, isn’t that SO STRANGE” or the blandly informational 101 interview featuring a picture of sad grey people in bed.  Not many, but they’re there.  But, at the same time, there are blazingly dismissive assholes hiding behind Ph.Ds, writing things like “’demisexual,’ an unnecessary new substitute for the word ‘human’ ” in articles that are published in 20-fucking-19.

There are a number of podcasts and YouTube videos talking about asexuality, but I don’t know how much reach they have outside of the ace community.

There’s one documentary that hasn’t aged well and I think has been removed from most streaming services, and another that hasn’t been released yet and is phenomenal and you should all see it.  So that...  Two documentaries.

Taking a quick look on Amazon, there are about seven books of substance on asexuality.  Three are academic queer theory textbooks with a very specific audience.  Two are self-published.  One is a weird collection of essays, half of which have little to do with asexuality at all, written by someone who isn’t ace and who didn’t seem to bother even talking to aces for much of the book.  That leaves one book about asexuality for a general audience written by an asexual that had a real publishing run.  Just one.

Same with the fiction media, don’t go around hyping any article that mentions asexuality.  Some of them are REALLY REALLY BAD.  There was one a few months ago that said in an infographic that “Girls working part time have a 33% chance of becoming asexual”, yet it was being uncritically passed around by some high profile aces.

So, y’know, Cs get Degrees or whatever, but we can do soooo much better in this area.  Someone go write a book about asexual dating.  Someone go write a book about asexual history.  Go.  Do.  Now.

Education/Schools - D

Well, it seems like it’s getting at least mentioned occasionally, and groups like Asexual Outreach have put some work towards this.  But we’re still left out of sex ed in most places, and when we are included, the information can be confused, inaccurate, or even ridiculed by the instructor.  Tackling this area will, over time, help out every other area on this list, because the next generations will all know and understand what asexuality is, and we won’t have to start from zero in order to get anything done.

Political/Legal - F

Earlier this year, I did a cursory review of anti-discrimination laws as they pertain to asexuality.  Where asexuality was protected, it was often by accident.  Only one state explicitly mentioned asexual people.  Many states which did have strong LGBT anti-discrimination protections have defined “sexual orientation” in such a way to exclude asexuality.  Even the “Equality Act” that the Democrats have made a lot of noise about this year has that narrow definition.

We need to start making connections with politicians and political groups, and we need to start leveraging our connections with queer organizations to get them to push for better language in these laws.  (Many of the non-discrimination laws were deficient or bizarre in multiple ways, so we’d all be better off with improvements.)

And I should note that it’s an F--- as far as protections for aromantics…

Health Care - D+

Well, we managed to get parts of the DSM-V rewritten.  But even those parts are less than ideal.  There are some therapists and doctors who are well versed in asexuality, and others who, as I mentioned above, hide behind their Ph.Ds writing horrible things and going unchecked.  There’s a raft of sex pills with marketing that explicitly targets people who are probably asexual but don’t know it yet, trying to sell them worthless junk that will make them suddenly black out randomly or permanently change the color of their skin.  We’re still not an option on the clipboard the doctor hands you to fill out.  We’re still forced to take unnecessary and invasive tests for no practical reason.

I think we need to be showing up at health care conferences.  We need to be reaching out to local providers.  We need to be telling people how they should be treating us, instead of letting them fumble around and hopefully get it right on their own.

[abbyfreemansmind]

Let’s talk about Hazbin Hotel

So, I finally sat down and watched Hazbin Hotel. I’d heard so much about it and felt the need to launch myself headfirst into having my own opinions about it instead of just listening to other people talking about it. This is gonna be a long post, so I’m gonna put it behind a neat little read more. Please note that this is coming from someone who genuinely enjoys adult humour and edgy humour and themes. I’ve got no problem with something that’s all swearing and raunchy jokes. It just needs to be done right.

Point 1 - The Plot The plot is describes as the Princess of Hell trying to open a new hotel to rehabilitate sinners so they don’t get exterminated during the yearly heavenly extermination to deal with Hell’s overpopulation problems. This plot is quickly undone through a few things that anyone can notice during the first viewing. 1 - Overpopulation? WHAT population? The scenery is most often noticeably devoid of any signs of life, outside of when background characters are called for. The scene where Charlie’s doing her news presentation is the most notable example of background characters. After this scene, we see almost nobody outside of the main cast and those weird little egg things. There are a few throwaway demons but outside of that, the streets are devoid of people. There aren’t even the corpses we had just seen during that opening scene. 2 - Charlie may as well be a total nobody what with all the power being the Princess of Hell holds. Just look at how the other characters treat her. You’d think the Princess of Hell would have some kind of benefit that would sway people towards agreeing with this whole idea. Instead, she gets mocked by just about everyone for reasons I can only guess involve winning her sympathy points from the audience. 3 - At no point does she give any proof that redemption would work. She basically says, “Hey guys! I hate seeing you all die, so I have this idea that has no backing evidence, that may or may not work, to try and get you guys into Heaven! Let me sing a song about it where I insult you all!”

Point 2 - Presentation I applaud the animators. Must’ve been hard, especially for Charlie’s overly fast song that really didn’t need to be nightcored, or literally any time Angel Dust was on-screen. Frame by frame. No rigs. All those stripes. All those colours that blend if you stare at them too hard or squint even slightly while watching. All that unnecessarily constant movement. It’s no wonder the thing took four bloody years to animate. Outside of animation, there are too many unneeded details and not enough needed details. Seriously. 1 - The turf war. We didn’t need this. We didn’t need this at all. If you take out the entire opening to it and the entire actual fight scene here, the episode still flows smoothly and we get the same amount of information and worldbuilding. In a pilot/first episode, you should only give the audience necessary details. Leave them wanting more, yes, but make sure they actually know what they’re getting into from the first episode. Make every scene count. Make it mean something. Don’t just shove every detail you can think of together and call it a day, especially if you don’t actually give the audience much information from it. 2 - Why is Hell overpopulated? Why isn’t Heaven? Why can angels go from Heaven to Hell, but demons can’t go from Hell to Heaven? Why does nobody care about being redeemed if Hell is so overpopulated that Angels annually come down and kill people because of it? Why does everyone treat the Princess of Hell like she’s worthless? Why doesn’t Angel Dust know about Alastor if they got into hell within 10 years of each other? Where is this supposed overpopulation problem? Would redemption even work in the first place? Why should I care about most of these characters (who are mostly complete jerks with no redeeming qualities other than “PROTAGONIST”, especially when two of the fan favourites repeatedly sexually assault other characters and, in one case, is both sexist and racist at one point)? Why are there turf wars? I should not be having to ask these questions. Don’t hold the audience’s hand, but don’t leave every single question you present in the show unanswered. Some of the questions presented make absolute sense to leave unanswered. Why does Alastor want to help with the hotel? Why are characters like Vaggie and Niffty, who do nothing all that bad, in Hell? These are questions that make total sense to leave unanswered for now. 3 - What crime is too terrible to be redeemed for? Charlie seems to think that literally everyone can be redeemed. That means murderers, rapists, abusers, tormentors... Certainly her song holds some kind of key to figuring it out! “Inside of every creepy hatchet-wielding maniac” Hmm... Okay... “All of you cretins, sluts and losers, sexual deviants and boozers” Uh... “So, all your cartoon porn addictions, vegan rants, psychic predictions Ancient Roman crucifixions end right here All you monsters, thieves and crazies, cannibals and crying babies" Oh... Also, did she imply that mental illness, alcoholism, drug dependency, plant-based diets/lifestyles, rabies and enjoyment of sex were sins in that song?

Point 3 - Edgy for the sake of edgy Hazbin Hotel tries to be an adult cartoon, but comes off as something a mentally disturbed teenager wrote during their emo/scene phase. 1 - The swearing and sex jokes. Oh boy. I’ve worked with children under the age of 15 who swear and crack sex jokes better than the adults in this show. The swearing and sex jokes are the only reasons this show couldn’t be aired as a Cartoon Network show aimed at edgy teenagers. It’s so poorly done that it in and of itself takes away from the quality of the show itself. Also, we have a character who’s name is an actual sex joke itself. Vaggie, full name Vagatha - a lesbian sex worker, of course. Fun fact for those who don’t know, but all of her previous character drafts had her name as some form of joke on the word vagina. This isn’t an accident, this is blatant and intentional. Also, here’s a pro tip for you! You can make an adult-oriented show without having swearing, slurs and sex jokes taking up a solid third or more of your script. 2 - The... “Representation”. Yes, Hazbin Hotel has LGBT+ characters! Yes, it has biracial and Latina characters! Charlie is bi, Vaggie is a Latina lesbian, Angel Dust is a gay man, Alastor is ace and biracial, Husk is pan, Niffty is Japanese (YIKES). Except none of it actually matters. No, really. Vivziepop was all like, “btw you can ship w/e, idc! also, i rlly like the fanon version of human alastor (who is whiter than marshmallow fluff even though he’s supposed to be half black)! :)” and threw all that out the window because... Who knows at this point. Now, if you look at the connected series, Helluva Boss, you get Moxie and Millie - an extremely obvious and loving couple. In Hazbin Hotel, you get Charlie and Vaggie who you probably couldn’t tell were a couple without somebody telling you that in the first place, what with all the loveydovey-ness going on with them. In fact, the biggest hint we even get is literally one line. “Life ain’t a musical, hun.” But then again, I’d be more apt to believe Charlie and Vaggie are friends, or Vaggie is pining after Charlie. Also, Charlie is a really bad girlfriend! She lets Vaggie get abused by practically the entire cast without so much as a single word in her defense and ignores everything Vaggie says. It came as no surprise when I remembered hearing about how the only reason these two are a couple is because one of the people on the team thought they were during storyboarding and Vivziepop just went with it. Also, fun fact, Vaggie fits both the angry lesbian and fiery Latina stereotypes. Charlie fits the stereotype for the bisexual cheater, what with how she seems to actually like Alastor more than her own bloody girlfriend. Alastor is canonically ace because he’s too full of himself to be with anyone else. Speaking as somebody who’s ace... WHAT?! As much as I don’t like Charlastor, it’s partially more popular than Chaggie because Vivziepop actually made them act like a couple for an entire musical number. Also, he’s annoying. He not only kept telling Vaggie to smile (heck you dude), he also smacked her butt, which is a form of sexual assault, people. This was all played for laughs, along with Vaggie’s (actually very reasonable) anger. Niffty is Japanese. A yellow-skinned demon who’s boy crazy and obsessed with cleaning... Big yikes. Finally, Angel Dust. The kinky gay man porn star/drag queen/drug addict/prostitute who verbally sexually assaulted two guys. Where do I begin. When it came to this guy, Vivziepop must’ve been like, “Imma throw every stereotype for gay men on this guy and call it a character!” If you look a Helluva Boss again, you get Stolas, who verbally sexually assaults Blitzo over the phone and also cheated on his wife with him in the first place, so this isn’t a one-off. Also, he was originally AFAB, so that whole line about “Why are you all women?” is more than a little heinous and in extremely poor taste.

In conclusion, this show is terrible. Everything about it. It needs some serious reworking, because as it stands, it’s really truly not that great of a creation.

tl;dr: Needs a lot of work and “ThEy’Re In HeLl!!1!!one!!!eleven!!!11″ isn’t even remotely an excuse for the genuine problems in it. Remember, at least one actual human being on Earth, not in Hell, wrote this garbage fire. Also, the animators deserve a higher wage than whatever they’re getting to deal with these designs. I shudder just thinking about animating them, with or without a rig.

[rcris123]

The wind is harsh; he can hear it in the twisting of the branches above. They found a tree perched on a ridge of this plateau, underneath which the soil cut abruptly, creating a wall that they decided to use as shelter for tonight. Wet and with the air cooling further as night fell they ended up knees to their chest and arms folded over each other to preserve warmth.

John kept coughing; reckons his lungs still got some water left in them – and frankly they ain’t got the time to pat the man rough between the shoulder blades to get him comfortable. And then he never asked further.

Arthur shielded his son, like he always did; the love that man bore for his child was undeniable and tender in a way few men had the courage to – but he doesn’t think they’re any kind of men... They’re on the fringes; never the norm, so maybe the outlaw lifestyle suited him and he should have thought of it earlier than Arthur collapsing in front of him.

That felt so long ago... The Molly-house is only a distant memory now, but thinking back he can still remember the smell of fluids in the sheets, the smoke, the alcohol... Some of them made couples and they’d bed each other sometimes. He couldn’t say he didn’t try it once. It was easy, available and not meant to last and they all knew it. Imagine whoever you want darlin’. And Sebastian’d lay back and close his eye, but before his eyes was a black screen: nothing. Pleasure could build but there was no one there; and nothing he really desired. Sex was just like alcohol; it numbed the loneliness. For a while.

He doesn’t know how those 5 years passed, but at the same time he wonders how he got the chance not to be stuck there until he would be useless and greying... How’d he got the chance to meet exactly Arthur, ‘cause there’s so much about him he can find no replacement for. Handsome, wounded outlaw and his beloved son, queer on top of it to somehow end up his partner.

Chest squeezed at the thought; of course he could hardly sleep, but eyes were closed. Hand draws tender circles over Arthur’s arm. Maybe it’s giving him tingles that he’s so close other men, but the way they’re all squeezed together for some form of warmth and comfort felt like a permission. And then they all knew he loved Arthur.

“I love you.” Just a whisper; it’s to give him courage. “Buck.” It’s how Arthur called him. Stubborn buck, when he thought that’s something that’d much rather describe the other than himself: hardy, agile, determined and with a certain pride that he wouldn’t admit ‘cause he thought of himself as lowrung and worthless.

Arthur shifted as if he heard and there’s that smile crawling on his lips. Sebastian pulls himself closer and feels the sweet nothings on his tongue, but that may just be too much-

 He wasn’t the first awake. Sean and Kieran seemed to have climbed up near the tree, inspecting the horizon for possible ways to take. Flat Iron Lake still glistened in the distance, the morning sun reflecting on its surface.

He reaches for Arthur; he’s there.

“Mornin’ Buck.” He sounded tender, but not worry free.

“Mornin’.” A lean in. “What you thinking about?”

“We should head East now, but on foot-”

“We just need to find the nearest town, and we’ll buy some horses from there.”

“I ain’t been this far south before...”

O’course... Sebastian did neither. He’s been stuck for most of his life in dusty Rhodes and the rest in Saint Denis, but Arthur was a traveler.

“I bet you’ve seen a lot of places you’ve never been to before.” Sebastian muses.

A chuckle, that by now sounds almost familiar: “You ain’t wrong about that.” He takes a deep breath in before he gets up. “We’re gonna get out of this one as well.”

Hand extends to Sebastian; he pulls himself up.

John is the last awake. He’s complaining about the throat bothering him and who can blame him – thou truly, he’s the only one speaking...

Bones don’t get stretched for long before they pick a route, courtesy of Kieran and Sean, who’d tried making heads or tails of this desert they found themselves in, and start marching. And marching they did. The heat wasn’t bad at first, only prickling at skin after about half an hour, but then blood started to run hot, then boil. Sun rules above them like some tyrant king, unrelenting, unforgiving. They don’t know how long they walked in a straight line until their trajectory changes to bee-lining from the shade of one shriveled tree to the next. Stops become more frequent. They ain’t got canteens with them. John’s feeling weak; collapses on the treetrunk after the first few. Arthur’s bent with his hands resting on his knees, urging Isaac to sit down next to John.

They don’t have water with them. Alcohol will make them thirsty and delirious. And he’s starting to doubt the words he said this morning.

They decide to wait for evening; march at night. They throw away good alcohol so that him and Sean could try and look for some water to fetch. Kieran wanted to help, but he’s still got that injured hand – a whole chuck of flesh taken out of it. Well one could argue Sebastian’s been shot in the leg, but he’s hoping they forgot that.

“Here.” He offers Isaac the bottle first and the boy gulps it down without breathing. They found a spring not that far from here.

“Thank it easy, kid or your lungs’s gonna catch fire.” Arthur warns and Isaac takes the bottle from his mouth and passes it to his father. “Thank you.”

Arthur drinks slowly, then hands the rest to Sebastian:

“I had my fill at the spring.”

“Where’s this spring, we need these refilled.”

“I’ll go-”

“You need to rest yourself. Lookit you.” Sebastian takes a breath in at that. “You’re all purple under the eyes; I’ll go.”

“I can come too.” Isaac offers.

The sun ain’t as fierce now as it’s starting to set and golden hues paint the landscape. If it weren’t for their predicament it’d almost be pretty. He does rest; he has to trust Arthur. He trusts him, in fact; he’s a more than capable man.

Father and son return with the bottles filled and they go on their march yet again. Maybe they’re lost souls in purgatory.

Sebastian honestly had no idea what to expect from this ‘Blackwater mission’, Arthur told him it was foolish, and maybe he wasn’t a planner, but he had experience �� Sebastian did not, and his optimism faded to dread, then a sort of hollow acceptance as if Death was trailing just slightly behind them on a pale horse waiting for them to drop. One by one...

Dawn comes. All their boots are cream from dust, legs are sore and he can only speak for himself but the one still healing’s stiff and throbbing with pain. They find themselves a tree and fall under it, huddled like the night before. No incentive needed, they fall asleep each as they manage.

When he opens his eyes for a moment to shift his position he sees Sean completely fallen over in Kieran’s lap and John more or less leaning against him. Isaac is clinging to Arthur and the man’s body looks so still it feels lifeless. In his exhaustion fueled daze he thinks of something he shouldn’t and heart squeezes in his chest. He jerks with eyes fully open.

They’re breathing...

He doesn’t remember when he falls back asleep; his eyelids are always heavy and the hunger in his stomach keeps growling.

Flies wake him up in the afternoon; it smells like corpse.

He jolts awake again:

“Jesus!” John’s thrown off and goes to cover his face before he falls to lean on something else.

Sebastian quickly rushes to his feet; he’s shaking. He can’t help but smell his clothes: just sweat, pungent, disgusting, but it’s just sweat. He turns to the rest. They’re all slowly waking; Isaac’s lifting his head in confusion.

Arthur’s eyes are closed, his breathing rapid, precipitated.

John catches him staring and shoves the man awake. Wind’s knocked out of him as he lands on one arm and starts coughing lightly.

That glare Arthur gives is tired.

“Maybe we should be eating something...” Kieran prompts.

They got some cans left. They chow them down at lightning speed, but Sean doesn’t look too fresh after all that food taken on an empty stomach that fast.

And they start crawling again. Tonight there’s no moon. Arthur’s last, Sean first.

The desert keeps on going and Flat Iron Lake’s left the view.

Tree to tree their journey takes them, further inland. The wind is harsher there; and maybe he’s going delirious thinking this is feeling like a descend to Hell. He’s losing; they’re all losing. They’re all losing because he’s a bad luck charm; karma’s best contender for misfortune. Panic boils through his system, steps drag, stumble, and he feels his lungs fill up with dust.

What the fuck is this dread? Does it belong to him? Why? Why now all of a sudden, just because one job went bad – Oh no and he’s reminded of Dutch now. He’s an outlaw now, ain’t he?... He’s an outlaw; he ain’t the man he was, but what man was he to begin with. What man was he supposed to be or become if it weren’t for one fateful encounter.

Should he owe everything to Arthur?... That ain’t how things work. He’s-

 He’s lost.

And he’s dragging Arthur in with him and it’s smelling like death-

He eats dust falling on his face. The entire line of people stop to gawk. Isaac rushes to his side first to help him up; Arthur follows.

“I’m fine...” he spits dirt out, pushes himself up only to find himself wanting to fall back in Arthur’s arms. He only gives the man a look; he probably looks pitiful now, wiping wet sand from his lips. It crunches between his teeth.

“C’mon up.” Arthur offers him a hand and heaves as he strung Sebastian up. “Walk with me...”

Sean starts walking again, and his hand slips into the other’s and squeezes it tight. The march goes on; Isaac in front between them, and the two of them at the rear, arms dangling from each other as they walked.

He didn’t notice at first, Arthur’s palm’s burning-

“Arthur...”

He knows: “It’s just the heat. Heatstroke...”

And the bulletwound... His leg won’t give him peace, he can’t imagine how Arthur’s repeatedly abused shoulder would feel like... And he wants to believe him, although deep within himself he knows the man is lying; he’s alright for everyone else’s sake – he-

“I know you.”

Arthur’s hand squeezes his own hard; Sebastian reciprocates the gesture:

“It ain’t gonna get much worse. I promise.”

Isaac whips his head around:

“Don’t you worry ‘bout that, Isaac.”

“Don’t lie to me. Not now.”

“I ain’t trying to lie...” Arthur speaks. “I’m trying to keep hopeful.”

“Okay...” the boy says, but ain’t in the least hopeful...

 They end their march near sunrise; they found a road. If they kept to it they might just reach some form of civilization. But rest came first.

It was definitely fever when Arthur rested his head on Sebastian’s shoulder; even his breath came out hot. Isaac curled next to them.

And throughout the day it got worse- bouts of cough started up, wheezing.

“Are you sleeping?” Sebastian whispers to him.

“No...”

“We’re getting you to the nearest docto-”

Arthur holds him firm: “At night...”

But he can’t watch him like this; not with the thoughts he’s been having lately. He swipes a few strands of hair out of Arthur’s face and the man leans into the touch like he’s been starved.

“We can’t let the kid get sick...” Arthur says, trying to suppress another cough.

A kiss to the temple: “Never, Buck.”

He feels Arthur’s cheeks rise against his clothes: “I like it when you call me that...”

Well he can’t deny that’s a truly special pet name: “Me too...”

A moment’s silence. Breaths rise and fall in sync after a short while. Eyes close and he adjusts his position against the tree, arm drawing Arthur closer in; in turn the man climbs a leg over his own; comfortable. They need as much rest as they can get.

And it was obvious they weren’t going to get much of it...

Arthur startles Isaac awake with his coughing, and the boy goes to shake him awake but there ain’t no use: man’s gotta cough a lung out first.

Sebastian strings himself and the man up with a heave: “We’re getting you to a doctor-”

John, Sean, Kieran were all awake by the time as well staring at the pair of them as if their friend’s been given a death sentence. And maybe that was correct but he ain’t letting Arthur lose the fight just yet.

The walk is painful; Arthur is heavy in his arms and his shot leg is screaming with every movement. They were allowed no rest, but he’s starting to understand that it ain’t like them to just give up. They are stubborn men. And they have a son to look after.

Isaac walked first behind them; the rest followed.

Then Isaac walked ahead.

It was past midday at this point, the heat was slowly simmering down, but it wasn’t enough for them; bodies have been pushed quite beyond what they could; they haven’t eaten, got any good rest or significant break. And now... Isaac’s walk was brisk; stiff from all the sore muscles, but it felt like he was putting all the energy he had left into this, as if there truly was a town just near of here.

 But there wasn’t.

They walked, and walked some more; Arthur took to his own legs, dragging them through the dust, one hand into his own. And Isaac was still ahead, the faintest sniff escaped him sometimes, but the boy wouldn’t turn when his father called out to him. And then they walked some more.

Heat produced sound at this point. Sebastian couldn’t feel his leg; it grew completely numb with pain. And Arthur looked worse: hair drenched in his own sweat, skin drained of color, while his cheeks and nose reddened to a concerning color. And still man had the strength to keep up the pace, following behind Isaac intently, loyally.

The world started to grow dim – and they kept on walking. The boy kept on walking ahead, stiff, limping from exhaustion, and only the boy existed outside themselves. John, Kieran, Sean faded to background noise. Arthur’s huffing, his own pain and Isaac’s silhouette became all that he knew, besides the inertia of moving his feet.

Any moment now, he feels the pale rider’s going to swoop in and mercifully depart them. Two queer men, their son and the fortune they never got to taste. What’s he come to; it’s almost beautiful in its tragedy.

He’s already convinced himself the sound of hooves is that impending doom – but it’s merely another traveler-

Isaac seems to spring to life the moment the man comes into view; moves to stand directly in front of the rider.

“Isaac-” Father’s voice is lacking a certain sternness.

“Can I buy your horse, mister?” Isaac sounds terribly polite for how his voice was shaking.

“No. Get away from here, brat-”

Man’s eyes peel open when the boy pulls out his revolver, the other hand swooping in to grab the reins.

“I’ll buy your horse, mister. 100 dollars.”

“Isa-” but John steps in, his own gun raised:

“Hand the boy the horse, it ain’t worth your life.”

Man slowly raises his hands and dismounts. Isaac reaches in his pockets and hands the man the promised money.

“Now get going!” John’s tone still retained its broken highpitched squeal. Traveler stands there for a moment then the feller books it.

Arthur takes from his side:

“The hell is wrong with you-”

“You need a horse. You’re sick!” Son defends his choice.

“You ain’t no outlaw! I ain’t raised you an outlaw-”

“What other choice did I have!? Did we have!”

Arthur’s jaws clench shut followed by a deep inhale, and silence falls.

“Get in the saddle and let’s go... Please...” Isaac begs at this point, tugs Arthur’s sleeve. “Pa...”

Man sits there a while, until his chest vibrates under a cough he’s trying to suppress. Son urges his father one more time and this time he gives in.

Isaac mounts first with the man on the back of the horse.

“Make sure you don’t forget us here.” Sean decides to butt in as Isaac spares one more glance at the people he leaves behind, before spurring the horse maybe a bit too harshly.

He holds his breath watching them take the road into the night. He can feel his heart thumping against his ribs, but the ache is only noticeable when he finally exhales. Head bows and he’s waiting for his thoughts to collect. They’ll be fine he’s trying to tell himself.

And it’s only now that he feels completely exhausted, weak and feeble. Posture slouches and his knee trembles from the pain of having to still stand up.

“Hey... Uhm you ain’t lookin’ that good, Sebastian.” Kieran’s voice is meek as usual.

“Guess I ain’t...” There’s no tree to lean upon so he just ends up laying on the ground with a huff.

“What a mess...” John utters, skipping a stone out of frustration.

“Guess it could have gone worse.” Sean argues, flopping down beside Sebastian. “And maybe our luck’s turning.”

Silence.

Then John’s voice pitches in again: “I... wonder if Jack’s gonna end up like that...”

“Stickin’ up for you? No chance.” Sean mocks.

“Hey-”

“Let the man talk.” Sebastian grunts; it felt like all John was being taken for was a buffoon with half a brain, even in his most sincere moments.

He’s almost taken aback: “Thank you, Sebastian...”

“Ain’t... always a straightforward way of being a father...” Sebastian admits.

“How can I know? All I ever saw was Arthur and his kid. He was there the day I joined, you know. A toddler running around this massive man in his 20’s that had no fucking clue how to deal with me and him at the same time.” John cracks a faint smile. “I probably should have turned out much better... I ain’t even fully knowin’ what I was trying to prove. I ain’t Arthur. I ain’t some golden boy, some father of the year or the other...”

“But you love the kid, don’t you?”

“Of course! I mean... It’s still weird thinking he’s mine. But he’s five already... But he’s got everyone else looking out for him! I ain’t though he’d be needing me.” Then, after one short pause, John’s expression sours, lips curling in on themselves: “Arthur ain’t really got someone like that did he?... Like, he raised that boy alone, before the gang really got that big-... Shit.” Man rubs his chin.

“It ain’t your fault.” Sebastian tries his best to be reassuring.

“At this point who even knows whose fault it is...”

Silence again; he doesn’t know how to reply to that; he’s empty of any good words and he really ain’t the man to be giving advice...

“You know,” John speaks up again. “You ain’t a bad man, Sebastian.”

A few blinks; it takes him a while to answer: “Thank you...”

“I...” A huff. “Arthur’s really thinking about you, you know? He-” John purses his lips.

Eyebrows furrow: “What?”

“I asked him a dumb question once; that’s all...”

 They somehow fell asleep when they hear what sounds like a two horse wagon racing their way. Sean is first up, reaching for his gun.

“It’s Isaac!” the boy shrieks pulling hard on the reins.

They all exhale, but a whole wagon feels-

“Where’d you get that?” Sebastian dares ask and hopes he’s soft.

“I bought it.” Isaac defends, apologetically this time.

“How is he?...” Kieran’s the first to ask; not because it wasn’t on his mind as well?

“In a hotel room. They don’t have a doctor in town. Said we gotta head to Calport, then take a boat to Saint Denis.”

“Jesus...”

“We gotta-” Isaac sighs as if trying to hold something in. “I’m so sorry. Seb...”

Sebastian climbs up next to him on the driver’s seat, picks the reins and tries a smile.

Isaac gives him directions as he drives, but otherwise keeps the conversation quiet. In about half an hour they find themselves in a small town that, with its dusty roads and dried up buildings, reminded him of Rhodes.

The hotel wasn’t fancy: more or less crumbling down; stairs creaking under his boots. The room was sparse and they find Arthur sitting on the side of the bed, leaning over his knees, propped in his elbows. Head was low and hair looked sticky. Isaac wasted no time sitting beside his father, a hand rubbing between his shoulders after an awkward stutter.

Arthur bends his head towards his chest further as he coughs.

Sebastian limps to join them; the rest of the posse flooding in after him.

“So, uh... what now?” Kieran had enough confidence to speak up.

John pinned his arms on his hips, Sean scratched his chin; so it was up to them... And he doesn’t have the strength to ask anything of Arthur, but he can’t find it in himself to say anything either – think of anything either. He’s feeling sore and numb and simply wants to revel in the company of those he holds dear and he so wants to cling to this feeling of home he’s barely gained an appreciation for.

“Guess we need rest for tonight.” Arthur speaks up. “And tomorrow we head out...”

“In that case we better get ourselves some provisions; everythin’ we had was on them horses.” Sean says. “Isaac would you come with me?”

“Let the kid rest.” John intervened.

“No, I want to come...” Arthur’s son knew very well what people intended.

“I’m coming too.” Said Kieran.

“Guess I’ll be joining then...” John got the hint; the rest were already heading out. “Rest up, a’right, Arthur?”

Man just scoffs and the moment John turns his back Sebastian presses his head onto Arthur’s shoulder, with one hand blindly finding the other’s. And Arthur softens under touch; covers his mouth when another cough comes.

“Hang in there, cowboy...” he finds himself saying.

“Don’t intend on dying just yet.” Arthur’s conviction strengthened him, strengthened the grip he had on his hand.

“I fear of getting lost again.”

“I ain’t letting you.” Another cough.

“Can’t let you bear all that alone either.”

“I know... Just... what am I supposed to do? There ain’t no stopping-” Thumbs rub over Arthur’s palm in gentle, calm strokes. “Hosea died...” Arthur confesses, leaning his head further onto his own. “He said he’s gonna take care of us. All of us.”

“You ain’t him to take that responsibility.”

“They’re my family, Sebastian.”

“I know...” He tried to be comforting, but words don’t quite help him today do they... “And you surely ain’t alone.” Head nudges itself further into Arthur. “Never alone.”

Arthur swings himself around, catching Sebastian in a secure embrace and holding the other up to his chest. He straddles the man’s lap and his arms find themselves on Arthur’s back. Tight; it’s a pleasant reassuring pressure; he can feel his heart drum against his chest.

“Neither are you.” Arthur utters, avoiding pressing his face to Sebastian’s; man’s breathing is wheezed and heavy.

There’s little hope for them, but they can’t just stop...

 They have somehow fallen asleep, limbs tangled and unwilling to let go of one another, but Arthur’s convulsive cough jerk him awake. His skin is sticky from sweat and skin burning from fever. He doesn’t seem awake.

But Isaac was. Boy was looking at the way his father suffered from a rag he set for himself at the foot of the shoddy bet: two eyes peering over the thin metal frame, watching in horror. The man who raised him grew weaker and weaker under his eyes, and under Sebastian’s a well; he’s seen this man on the brink of death a couple of times now already.

The cough grows increasingly violent, man having trouble getting any air in. He doesn’t know how he fumbled, but Sebastian tried his best to prop the man in a sitting position, waiting for the bout to pass.

Arthur was fully awake at this point, caught Isaac looking at them.

“You-... Should eat something, Pa.”

“Yeah...” Arthur struggles to get a grip on his posture, leans over the side of the bed; staggers up. Sebastian finds himself following suit. “Did you get anything?”

“Yeah. John and Sean are still downstairs at the saloon.” Isaac stands up. “Do... you want me to come with you?”

“Always, kid.”

The boy follows intently, sticking close to Arthur as if there was something he wants to atone for. And Arthur ain’t dumb enough not to notice the changed demeanor of his son:

“You okay there, Isaac?”

“... How are you feeling?”

Now, with an arm outstretched Arthur waits for his son to descend in front of him, hand finding its way on the boy’s back.

“Better.” It’s a lie; Sebastian knows. “A bed and some proper sleep is all this ol’ man was needin’.”

Boy squints his eyes, but bows his head and shakes it.

“Don’t... lie to me, Pa.”

Arthur stops and puts both hands on Isaac’s shoulders.

“Just... don’t lie to me, okay? You’re all I have-” Boy barely stifles a sob. “Just tell me what I can do- I can help. Let me help-” Arthur pulls the boy to his chest, shushing and Isaac clings to the man’s clothing: “Let me help...”

But not even Sebastian knew how to help and he’s afraid Arthur ain’t knowing either...

The hug don’t last the chatter from downstairs forces the men apart; it ain’t private and they ain’t regular. He descends last, Isaac by his side, both of them seemingly of the same mind, taking care their Arthur don’t stumble.

The moment they’re downstairs, John, Sean and Kieran turn their heads their way. Sean lifts a glass: “English!” And once they’ve made their way to the table he cheers: “Ye’r finally awake!”

“Feelin’ any better?” Kieran chimes in, leaning over the table, but Isaac seems discomforted by the question. “I-I ain’t meaning to say you-”

Arthur waves a hand: “Peachy. Seen much worse.” Man looks over at John, then back at everyone else: “You all ‘kay?”

“Sure! Asked ‘round town for some routes, fastest way back to Saint Denis.” Sean explains. “Said there’s a bigger town called Callport ‘bout a day or two from here. And we should be able to take a boat ‘cross the Lannahachee from there.”

“And we bought a wagon.” John mentions, before averting his gaze-

“Tell’em John! Tell‘em what happened.”

The man groans at that: “Jim! Name’s Jim Millston.”

“You heard that lads, Millston.”

“Shut up!”

But that had Arthur chuckling. And in the mids of this, Sebastian didn’t pay attention that the boy took off and ordered them food.

“Now tell’em what Kieran said when asked ‘bout his name.” Sean kept on.

“Not this again...” Kieran commented. “What was I s‘possed to say!?”

“Kieran Duffy.” John said almost irritated. “They ain’t knowing you.”

“And what did he say?” Arthur’s looking cheered up by all this.

“Ugh- Said I ain’t got any.” Kieran finally caved in. “Said my parents died before they could give me one.”

Arthur chuckles: “Maybe you’d make a good dime novelist.”

“Nah, I’m a horse boy, that’s all.”

Isaac places them two plates of food and Arthur thanks, then asks the kid to take a seat beside him. He wastes no time taking a bite, showing his son appreciation for the gesture. He can still hear the subtle coughs that come with the first few bites.

The rest of the dinner is eaten in silence; the food doesn’t taste good, nor bad; it’s bland, the meat is dry and stringy and the porridge sticks to the corners of his mouth. But he downs it with the help of a pint of beer. Arthur gulps his drink in one go.

“So we got a wagon...” Arthur starts and he ain’t exactly content with the predicament he’s just been put in without his choice. Sebastian liked to think he knew the man enough to know he’d protest vulnerability ‘cause it’s the face of helplessness – and it ain’t like Sebastian ain’t just the same in that regard. “We can already leave for Callport. It ain’t like we got much with us.”

“I don’t think so.” John’s the first to protest.

“Why?”

“ ‘cause you’re... Well...”

“The sooner we get back to camp the better.”

It’s a logic he can’t argue with.

“You ain’t fully rested yet-”

“ ‘course I ain’t.” Arthur’s struggling to raise his voice and at the same time fighting to keep the conversation civil. He takes a look at his son: “We ain’t knowin’ how this is gonna go...” Fear starts to glisten in the boy’s eyes and Sebastian puts a hand on him.

“He needs a doctor that’s all.” He intervenes, trying to steady it; not his best suit thou.

“Is it too much to wait for tomorrow?” Isaac asks.

“We could get some more supplies, ask the locals about things.” Kieran chimes in. “We got some food. A-And I can probably ask around for some cough medicine.”

Arthur just pursed his lips; a stifled cough:

“I need to stretch my legs...”

Isaac follows in an instant; Sebastian looks at the lot of them, all with sour faces, bows his head and excuses himself as if they were some strangers...

Outside Arthur’s leaned on the wall with his son next to him, trying his best not to worry the boy further. It was all so entirely messy, dissonant, trying to keep up with a reality that no longer existed if ever. They didn’t know what to do – they don’t. Stuck and they keep pushing, hoping the wall will break and reveal some hope after it all, but even that seemed like some lofty ideal, dangled before them, a dancing shadow on the wall. It’s not real.

“I ain’t dead. Or dying.” Arthur sighs and starts walking. “Just caught something when I dragged Marston out of the water. I’ll live through it.”

“Don’t expect anything less from you.” Sebastian says and finally there’s a smile.

“I’m just worried.” Isaac counters, trotting up between them. “There’s been a lot lately... Hosea-”

“I miss him too, kid...” Arthur confesses. “But I ain’t letting no one get there again.”

“Does that include you, thou?” Isaac wasn’t convinced; fear ran deep.

“I really do hope so.”

“We’re trying our best.” Sebastian adds.

“And I ain’t intending on leaving you alone like this.” Arthur stresses the words. “Both o’ you.” A sigh: “But enough talk ‘bout all that. I just need to feel a lil’ bit human again, not like some medical example.”

Putting it like that really gave a sense of perspective about the ordeal; Arthur who seemed to have held up this gang for many years looked about to crumble now, and it ain’t that worry ain’t natural, but how’s someone whose only worth seemed to be his usefulness supposed to feel when they all see him become fragile. That sentiment there’s one that he’s very familiar with: one thing and that one thing is me, all of me. Sebastian liked men, and he only allowed himself to be that for five entire years and it never crossed his mind that he could just saddle up and ride out west; become a cowboy and be himself, queer and all... He’s still feeling like a shell, and everything else like some reality he ain’t truly a part of.

But he got no choice but to fight.

Hand in hand; it’s real, and it ain’t slipping through, feverish and sweaty as that other palm felt on his.

Isaac’s been doing thinking this entire time: “Well I saw an interesting place if you want to check it out. Some abandoned ranch house not far from the town in a big corn field.”

“Lead the way then.”

The stalks could be seen from the edge of town; it was a little ways away from there; the lights of the houses barely touching the field. Wind whistled through making it resemble something out of a ghost story. It’s a wonder that the lantern he pulls out is still working after having been soaked through that night, then left unused for the next couple of days.

He takes on ahead; and he probably shouldn’t admit that his hand started to shake lightly. It felt more and more like something out of a nightmare of his, but Isaac finds his way right beside him. There was something daring in that boy’s eyes, and that might just give him some courage too.

There’s nothing in the cornfield. The house is indeed empty and beside being dusty to the point that it crunched under their boots it was clean.

“Oh?” Isaac darts from his side and proceeds to pick up a guitar that was lying in the corner. “Wished I asked Javier how to teach me to play one.” He tries a strum.

Sebastian puts the lantern down and Arthur finds his place on the edge of the bed; it creaks.

“I used to know how to play one he says.” He says.

“Really?” Boy lights up and hands him the instrument. “Think you can try and play something?”

“I can’t promise anything.”

Isaac flops next to his father: “Doesn’t matter; it’s still music.”

Obliged. Sebastian sits down, tries finding a comfortable pose; lips quirk as he’s trying to remember a song. Nothing. Crickets chirp outside. Still nothing. A deep inhale. Okay. He takes it from the gravest note to the highest, playing one by one then a strum down. That sounded like a tune. He repeats it a few times, eyes glued to the chords before he lifts them up.

Arthur’s eyes then; he can’t help not smiling. They ain’t been that bright or tender in quite a while; he’s starting to understand the meaning of tonight: they gotta be sweet to take away some of the bitterness that’s drenched them. Sebastian keeps on strumming.

Isaac lays his head down, closes his eyes: “It’s just like when we first met. The church remember?”

“Mhm...”

“I didn’t get it... but... Pa?” Arthur turns to look. “Did you always know?”

“I ain’t the right one to be asking these questions.” Arthur chuckles, turns into a cough at the end. “I’m a fool all things considered.”

“Well you ain’t the biggest fool.” Sebastian has to laugh; that felt like a jab at John honestly. “But did you know, Pa?”

“Well...” a scratch of the beard. “I liked him. Had a kind face.”

Hand’s placed on the guitar: “Don’t make me want to kiss you.”

“No chance with the kid watchin’.” Arthur jokes, but he’s soon cut by a protesting Isaac.

“I liked you too, Arthur.” He confesses. “You intrigued me.” He lays the guitar down. “And I guess I ain’t done discovering you.”

Arthur bows his head with a smile, while Isaac looks at the both as if this is his first time hearing a love confession.

 Morning came without them paying it much notice; they returned to the hotel sure, but after that the order of events blurred. They were tired. And so sun found the bundled in a pile in a single bed. It wasn’t comfortable, his left arm was filled with static, but he’d trade nothing else for the warmth in his chest. He slips away enough to be able to stand up and lean over: a kiss on Arthur’s jaw, just beneath the ear. A few more until he wakes.

“I love you too.” Instead of ‘good morning’ because Arthur doesn’t return the kisses; caution is better, and still that manages to make his heart expand between his ribs, pulsate pleasantly.

“I’ll smother you with mine.” Sebastian coos with a thin smile on his lips; one more.

He loves the man.

Isaac tosses to the other side with a groan. And he loves the family they’ve somehow been  blessed to be.

Setting out felt like they were forgetting something, but all they had was on their person and a crate of provisions in the wagon. Sean jumped front, but John drove and the Irishman didn’t quite protest about it yet. But even with this promise of a new day, maybe a new start and new luck, they all still knew Arthur ran the fever.

And the fever only grew; so did the cough. Of course, Isaac took notice of the man’s growing sluggishness, the wheezing of his breath; the boy started remembering how he got treated for influenza when he was younger. Onion syrup, chicken broth and cold rubs with camphor. And sweating, lots of sweating.

“You’d bundle me up in some old furs and tell me to stay put. You gave me your old journals and I’d scribble in them.” Isaac recounts with fondness.

Arthur sighs: “They all got burned down last winter with that fire business up North-”

“Yeah I remember... But I can always try and make new ones. I know I ain’t much of an artist.”

A chuckle, a ruffle of untamed hair: “Always aiming to please, ain’t ya?”

Sean eavesdropped on the conversation: “You know my Ma’ always made me Elderberry blossom tea to get rid of the fever. And willow bark, grinded to powder with a bit of warm milk to slide down the throat.”

“My parents used Turpentine and lard for colds.” Kieran adds. “Rubbed all over the chest. The smell was awful. I would get sick from it.”

“Wasn’t you real young when your parents died?” Arthur asks.

“Yeah. Cholera.”

“Christ! What a way to go.” Sean blurts out.

“Don’t make it worse.” John intervenes.

“Do ya ever let up, Marston?”

“The willow bark might get handy if we ever find any around.” Sebastian rubs the back of his neck in thought; it’s getting really hot.

“Streams should have some form o’ willow growing there.” Kieran says, then rubs his beard. “Wait... Ain’t hair tonic using camphor? You know the one that you rub in ye’r hair.”

Arthur muses, pursing his lips like he always did when he was unsure: “I guess... I still hear the best medicine’s whiskey.”

“That’s for pain, not fevers.” Sebastian counters; Kieran was rummaging his satchel.

Arthur scoffs then John’s voice picks up: “Listen to your man, Morgan.”

“Shut up.” The man in questions calls back only mildly offended. Kieran had pulled out a bottle of something and was looking on the back of it with squinted eyes.

“What you found there?” Sebastian asks.

“Uhh some horse stimulant.” Kieran chews on his lips: “Yup. It has camphor. Reduces pain and cools them down.”

“You want me rubbed in horse stimulant now?” Arthur protests, and a cough builds up behind his words.

“It’s all we got.”

“It ain’t that bad. It’s gonna go down soon enough.”

Wishful thinking.

The cough continued. The heat outside ain’t helping either; they were all sweaty. Kieran was driving now and john climbed in the back, offered them some water to rub on the back of their necks to cool off, but even so Arthur seemed to heave as if he ain’t got air to breath. Skin burned like a heated oil lamp.

“Kieran, can I get that horse stimulant.”

“Sure-”

“Sebastian...” Arthur was on the verge of protesting.

“It’s gonna cool you off.” He don’t wanna say that if he keeps running this fever for the next day he’s probably a goner.

“I don’t like this...”

“I know.” Sebastian didn’t like it much either.

Still, when he asked Arthur to unbutton his shirt, man obliged. John turned his entire body so he wouldn’t look at them. Sebastian poured the oily substance on his right hand and stuck it underneath the other’s shirt; the smell stung in his nostrils; the rubs are hardy, firm, making even a man as big as Arthur sway under the motion.

Hand retracts: “You know. I ain’t talked lot about Lily...” He pours some more stimulant on his hands. “She got sick a lot when she was young.”

“I’m sorry to hear that...” Arthur says; Isaac keeps quiet.

Palms rub together and he motions for Arthur to lean in for him to rub the thing over his chest. Same firm rubs, round the neck and down the burning chest:

“I was so scared for her. But she’s always been a fighter.”

The smell makes Arthur cough, but he keeps up the conversation: “Don’t doubt it.”

“Myra- Her momma would rub her down with this or something like that. The smell hung around the entire house. I could almost taste it.” The moment he’s done he buttons up Arthur’s shirt. “And when she’d be cooking, or sleeping I’d be the one to rub it on. I kept massaging a while after and she fell right back to sleep...” They’re fond memories, even if they sting now.

“You’re a great father-”

“No, I-” he wants to deflect that.

“They ain’t gonna rob you of it no more.” Despite the cough that shook his body Arthur’s arms are steady, containing, his palms like hot irons, especially in this blazing heat; he ends up easing into it.

John peeked over his shoulder at them: “I’m sorry you had to lose a child, Sebastian...”

Head simply bobs down, and Arthur goes cough inside his fist with wet heaves. It’s silence for a while, then the coughs start up again, more feverishly and the man is forced to bed over. Isaac perks up, but stays pinned to the spot- John holds the boy’s shoulders.

Arthur waves a hand: “I’m fine. I’m-” another bout, just as violent. He heaves. “Just the goddamn smell. Christ’alive...” Some more drown out coughs. “I’m fine...” He leans his head against the sides and he’s given an extra coat to let that camphor work its magic.

 Sebastian can’t get sleep, not even as night falls. Everyone else seems to have gone numb to the sound of Arthur coughing. It sounds worse than it did before, but at least the temperature is steady. The sick didn’t get much sleep either, heaving and covering his mouth for the next fit.

Man looks at his hand, then up at Sebastian. Heart stings, and when he gets to look at what the cough left behind it sinks. Blood...

They wasted too much time...

[amodicumofdutch]

💍headcanons: being married to Dutch💍

ask: “General headcanons for being in a long term relationship w dutch? Like them having gotten together as teenagers and then gone on to marry? How would they celebrate their anniversary? How often would they argue? Kids? I'm so in love w dutch😩”

// Thank you for this interesting ask! And my apologies - I tried my best to make it nice and fluffy, but somehow that didn’t quite work out as planned.. I hope you still like it!! 

(As long as you kinda squint at the no-same-sex-marriage-in-the-19th-century issue, this works for a gender neutral!reader.)

content warning: unhealthy relationship dynamics

When you first met Dutch, he was nothing like the great gang leader he is now. He was sixteen, skinny as a rake, with worried eyes, clearly on the run from something.

But even back then, he had a certain charismatic fire to him, an energy you were immediately drawn to. The way he looked didn’t hurt either, of course. You were fifteen.

Ever the romantic, Dutch started out your relationship with a grand declaration of love on your very first date. “You and me, we’re meant to be, I can see that clear as day. Don’t you ever leave me, and I will never leave you. We’ll build our future together, from nothing, cause now that I have you I have everything.” You shivered at that, looking into his dark eyes, eyes full of a passionate intensity that seemed completely out of step with Dutch’s age and station in life. You had never met anyone even remotely like him. You told him you loved him, then, and you meant it. You were fifteen and you had never felt so sure of any decision in your life before. “And I love you, y/n”, Dutch had replied, without a moment’s hesitation. You had kissed him, then, at the edge of that lake, and you would remember that moment many, many times in the years to come.

Dutch asking you to marry him came as a surprise. You hadn’t taken him to be traditional like that, and it wasn’t like either of you had any living family you were on speaking terms with. You had noone but each other. You had to sneak into the church at night, Dutch being a wanted man and all. You got married in a dimly lit church, by a drunken reverend who said he owed Dutch a favour. The only witnesses were two shady-looking, burly men Dutch had found in a saloon the other day, but you didn’t mind. Dutch gave the speech himself, and when you kissed him afterwards you knew you’d never want to be with anyone but him ever again.

Dutch and the two burly men had to shoot your way out of town afterwards. You escaped, carrying the drunken reverend with you on the back of Dutch’s horse. It set the tone for the years to follow - always on the run, never a moment’s respite from the pressure, sleeping rough, sometimes not enough food. But Dutch retained an energetic, hopeful determination throughout it all, and you retained your love for him.

You really only got to know him after you’d gotten married, and you discovered new sides of him each and every day. Not all of them were good.

It didn’t take you long to find out that Dutch was intensely jealous and got angry and agitated if you so much as breathed near another man. You would tell him he was overreacting, and he would tell you to shut your damn mouth and stop behaving like that. He had a way of making you feel like a small, utterly worthless piece of shit with just a handful of words.

Afterwards, you’d always reconcile, Dutch bringing you flowers or new clothes or something else he had “come across” in town. You telling him you’d never, ever leave him so he had nothing to fear. And you’d kiss him and everything would be alright again. Until your next argument.

Over the years, the arguments would grow more frequent and intense. Most of the time they were entirely your own fault though, you told yourself, cause you had this tendency to be willful and difficult and to not have enough trust in Dutch. You knew Dutch only wanted the best for you, that he knew what was right, what should be done. And yet you couldn’t keep yourself from second-guessing him. You resolved to change that. To become more loyal.

And besides, not all was bad. In fact, almost everything was wonderful and almost exactly like you had imagined it on that fateful day when you had been fifteen. Being married to Dutch genuinely was the best thing that had ever happened to you, and he always kept you safe, and even when he hurt you he didn’t hurt you all that much and most of the time he didn’t mean to. Most of the time it was your own fault.

Despite living rough with a bunch of outlaws you never felt like you were living a tough life since you never wanted for anything. Dutch made sure you had every little comfort you could possibly ask for and more, and showered you with love and gentle attention to boot.

You knew life was quite different for the other gang members, who had to do hard chores and ride out with Dutch and carry guns at all times. You, on the other hand, never even learned how to shoot a rifle. Dutch wouldn’t let you. He said it wasn’t necessary since he would always keep you safe. And he did, and anyway you didn’t want to start up another argument over a small insignificant thing like that.

On each of your wedding anniversaries, Dutch would take you into town, whatever town it was at the time. You’d have an actual candlelight dinner in an actual fancy restaurant, and Dutch would wear his best waistcoat and pull out your chair and talk about how you had made it, by being faithful and staying together despite everything, and for those few hours each year you would feel as if everything would be alright, no matter how conflicted or worn out or bruised you had felt before. You cherished and treasured your anniversaries, and you knew Dutch did the same.

Over the years, you had your suspicions that Dutch might have cheated on you with one of those women, but you never brought it up.

During the first few years of your marriage, you didn’t want kids - you were still half a child yourself, you thought, and besides, all this running and hiding didn’t lend itself to child-rearing anyway.

But over the years, you changed your mind. You asked Dutch what he thought about having a baby, and this was the first time you saw your husband, Dutch van der Linde, the man who had saved you in so many ways, look genuinely lost and scared. He told you no, harshly, and left for a while, fuming and upset. He came back and apologized to you later, and the two of you had a long talk as the sun went down and the noises of the distant coyotes grew louder.

You had many of these quiet, intense talks over the years, but Dutch’s answer stayed the same: No. He gave you many reasons for why he didn’t want children, but you always knew he was just making them up, same way he made up his speeches. When you pressured him to tell you the real reason, Dutch cracked. This was one of those rare times he truly lost his temper with you, you recall, and it wasn’t pretty. After everything had calmed down again, he had told you softly that he didn’t think he’d make a good father. You had just nodded at that, hadn’t found it in you to argue against it.

So your marriage remained childless, and you accepted it, accepted it and moved on with daily life the way you always did, with your “stubborn strength and perseverance” Dutch had always told you he admired. You watched Dutch adopt stray children and rowdy teenagers and straighten them out as you kept a careful distance. You watched some of them get shot, watched others grow up into fine young men as your husband grew into an ever more brilliant, ever more violent, ever more terrifying man. You thought a lot about the choices you had made when you were fifteen, when you had gone with this man without so much as asking for his real name, but it hardly mattered now. Whatever Dutch was, he was your Dutch after all, and that would have to be enough. And in the end, it was all fine, really. It really was fine.