#but then i'd be no better than the folks who say 'i didn't like x before it was cool to hate x!'

[nerdgirlriot]

I was so worried when I saw Try Guys trending on Twitter except it's about Ned who's my least fave by a large margin so 🤷‍♀️

guess i'll grab some popcorn and hit the subreddit

[mybworlds]

Animae duae, animus unus

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x f!reader | W.C. 4.6K

Summary: Your father marries you to General Acacius, the most powerful and feared man in Rome after the Emperor.

Warnings: use of you, arranged marriage, unspecified age gap, constraint, loss of virginity, SMUT, pinv, masturbation, sub/dom dynamics (?), Marcus is neither a bad or a good guy here, he's a man of that time (almost!).

A/N I think I completely lost my mind seeing the trailer, folks, so a new idea about General Marcus Acacius crossed my mind. I studied a while ago about the condition of women at the time of Roman age, but a few things could change and not to be historically accurate.

"It's a great honor. For you and our family." that's what your father told you when he decided you should get married.

You should have married a man you don't know at all, a man much older than you, a man whose name alone was enough to make everyone tremble. He's best known for his skill in using the sword, for being a great orator and for being in close contact with Emperor Geta and his brother Caracalla.

You know nothing about the General, you saw him once or twice, you still remember those meetings and what you felt. They made you dress with great care, they made you wear your best tunic, there was a lace that tightened your waist to enhance your figure even more. You were accompanied by your mother and a handmaid in the presence of your father and the man to whom your father wanted to give you in exchange for a better social position and other favors. When you arrive to the triclinium, your father and another man were eating while lying down. Their eyes fell on you and you heard your father introduce you to the man.

The man left the bunch of grapes he was nibbling and came towards you. You only glimpsed the movement as you were told to keep your head down and be submissive in order to make a good impression to him.

You were sure you looked very nervous at that moment, you were afraid. You didn't know who you were supposed to marry, you didn't know anything about him, but you were sure of one thing: you didn't love him.

He wore a finely adorned white and red tunic with two eagles sewn on the chest, a crimson waist belt, a cloak of the same colors and boots. You saw his hand lift and then reach for your chin, he squeezed it and made your head lift so your eyes met. He certainly has very beautiful eyes, in that light they seemed to be honey-colored, but what he did you didn't like at all because he started to to examine you as if he wanted to pierce you through, you could barely hold his gaze.

"Is she all right?" you heard him ask your father, turning slightly towards him.

His voice was confident, deep, raspy and for some reason it made your skin crawl. You looked at him sideways and noticed how tall and broad he was.

"Y-yes, sure, General." your father replied concerned to the idea he could miss the opportunity to make a leap forward in society.

"She's shaking." the General noted, looking back at you and almost piercing you with his gaze.

"She's just a little nervous." your father replied again almost coming alongside the General looking so short next to the man.

The General began to walk around you and observe every little detail of you as if he were looking at a horse at the market and deciding whether to buy it or not. He didn't touch you except for your chin, but you still felt overwhelmed by his gaze and his physical presence.

"I'd like to hear her voice, Tracius." the General said again, turning to your father who swallowed, almost intimidated by the man's tone of voice.

Your father called you almost abruptly, making you suddenly raise your head and inviting you to say something nice to the General. Something that wouldn't make him miss this opportunity, of course.

You didn't know what to say to the General, you were so intimidated by him, all you managed to ask him was how he was. You didn't know if it was correct or appropriate to ask a man of his social status to ask such questions in public, but you had no idea he'd have asked to hear you speak.

He smirked and looked at you with an amused look as if you had just performed a pantomime. You didn't know whether to feel offended or whether to smile too at his strange reaction. When in doubt, you lowered your head and waited to know what you had to do to please your parent.

"General, she will be an excellent wife and will certainly be able to please you. Whatever your desire is, she will be able to satisfy it." your father said as if you weren't even there.

"I'm sure." he said, you didn't know what his expression was since your head was down and the heart in your chest was beating furiously with fear and discomfort.

"So it's decided, General?" your father asked, you recognized that tone of voice: he was scared, but not because he feared for your fate, he was just afraid of losing this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

"Sure." the man replied, then the two men moved towards the triclinia and you were dismissed.

That same day they decided what advantages would come from your marriage union, if children were born there would be even more opportunities and then naturally under which moons will your union take place.

It's the night before the wedding and you don't know what to feel, how you should feel, you're in your room and you feel a deep discomfort. There is a lot of shouting outside, the slaves go back and forth. Tonight is your last night here, in your bed, in your room, in your house. From tomorrow you will no longer live here, but you will live in the domus of General Acacius. You will be his property.

The next day, after barely eating anything, you are joined by a couple of maids who help you undress and bathe in a scented water. Subsequently, according to an ancient custom you wear a very white tunic with a belt at your waist. The white represents your purity and virginity and the belt is a sort of lucky charm for your union and with the hope that the marriage with the General will bring the arrival of many children. They comb and braid your hair into a complicated hairstyle, then make you wear lots of jewelry and only then, when you look at yourself in the mirror, you realize you're trembling for fear. You don't want to, but you can't escape.

They then place a crown full of beautiful flowers on your head. You remember when your father still allowed you to run along the meadows to pick wild, fragrant flowers. Oh, you were so happy then!

They then place the veil on your head, completely enveloping your figure. Your world completely changes color and turns orange. The maids smile at you, perhaps you should force yourself to smile, but your muscles are paralyzed.

When you leave your room for the last time, you hear singing and festive music coming from outside and when you leave, you find General Acacius followed by a procession of friends, relatives and powerful people of Rome waiting for you.

The General wears an even more elegant toga than last time. His toga is a splendid golden and white color. On it there is the symbol of two golden eagles embroidered on his chest. The cape on his shoulders falls softly along his back greatly enhancing his strong presence. He gives you a long silent look. His gaze is serene, but serious.

A first seal is placed which symbolizes your union from a formal point of view and with which you formally become a property of the man at your side. The sacrifice of an animal then takes place, followed by other ritual phrases. You feel completely dazed, you hear and pronounce everything you have learned by heart, you know what needs to be done, but the anxiety and fear are paralyzing you.

You lift your veil and raise your head to meet the eyes of the man you are marrying.

His gaze is serious, he scrutinizes you carefully. It's difficult to understand or guess what he thinks, while you on the other hand are certainly visibly tense and scared.

His hair is a mass of dark curls, his beard patched and peppered with gray. All in perfect contrast with his tanned skin. He smells of oils and incense.

Your join your hands and therefore with these rituals your union is official. You try to smile, but you're sure that a grimace rather than a smile has appeared on your face. Your groom smiles at you and smiles at the procession that had accompanied him to your house.

A lavish banquet follows accompanied by music, the presence of poets, musicians who enrich the event, you and your husband are sitting next to each other. Your husband has two of his servants taste and drink before starting to eat and sip his wine. He notices your gaze, even if you do everything you can to keep it down or elsewhere, and then he addresses you for the first time without your father present, "You can never be too careful, my wife."

You swallow and nod and then look away, at your father. He's happy, he's toasting and eating his fill. He argues with another man and talks profusely.

"Do you want it?" your husband asks you, handing you a cup of wine which you take in your slightly shaking hands, he must have noticed because he adds, "Have you ever drank before?" you shake your head "Drink little and slowly, I want a wife who will be present on the wedding night."

You look away and witness a dance where a victory in battle is being staged to praise and exalt your husband's abilities.

It's dusk when you definitively leave your home, when you are torn from the arms of your mother to whom you cling one last time, then you are taken to your husband's house, and from today your house, by a small group of guests. The General is no where to be found.

A great noise surrounds you, many torches light the way to your future domus, many songs accompany your journey. You are confused, disorientated and also a little intrigued by the idea of having caused so much joviality along the dark streets of Rome with that event.

The procession stops in front of the General's domus who is there in front of the door waiting for you. You reach him and before you can enter you must perform yet another ritual and lastly you and your husband seal your union in front of the procession with one last sentence "Ubi tu Gaius, ibi ego Gaia", now you can cross the threshold of your husband's house into the arms of two guests who lift you up.

You are in what is now your domus and now you have to consummate your marriage.

Your husband is in front of you and seems to want to devour you, he caresses your cheek possessively, you look at him with fearful eyes and then he walks away to take off the ornaments worn during this long day.

From here you can no longer escape. You are in the bedroom and a maid takes all your jewels, bracelets, flower crown, hairpins off of you. The handmaid talks to you, she tells you how and what to do with your husband, how to satisfy him, but you know nothing of all this and you are afraid.

You find yourself praying, keeping your eyes closed in an expression of almost terror. You didn't even realize that the man came back and the handmaid went away.

Your husband is in front of you, he searches your eyes and finds them full of fear, "Don't worry," he tells you, "no one has ever complained." you swallow feeling your heart pounding in your chest “You are my third wife, you know?” he tells you, as he lowers his eyes to your belt and slowly runs a finger between it and your robe.

You shudder. You don't know if it was because of the gesture or because he confided in you that you are his third wife. You'd be curious to know what happened to the other two women before you, but his hands are untying the belt which falls to the red carpet at your feet.

"Watch me." he orders and you obey. You are his now. You must obey. There is no other way.

You look at him. His tanned skin seems to stand out even more between these four walls, in your bedroom.

His eyes follow the movements of his hands as they move your tunic aside, opening it with a deliberate slowness.

You're trembling and when he looks up at your face he can see and feel all your tension himself because his hands remain still on your hips.

"You don't have to be afraid, I don't want to hurt you. But you know it has to be done, right?" his voice is hoarse, but velvety.

You nod. You would like to run away, but your father has now given you up to him, you are his from now on. And he wants to own you.

"I want to hear your voice, please. It's not your father here, but your husband, and your husband wants to hear your voice." the tone of voice is delicate, but authoritative.

"All right." you simply reply, looking first at his face and then at his hands which are still on you.

"That's better." he comments with a small grin on his face "You're scared." he adds and his is not a question, but a statement. One of his hands leaves your side and goes up your stomach, your ribs, just touching your breast, then reaching your neck and finally your cheek. "You don't have to. I don't want you to have any." his voice is always authoritative, but his eyes are characterized by a great sweetness creating a strange contrast.

"I'm sorry." is the only thing you can think of to say. You lower your head.

"Watch me." He calls you back and you obey "You are a beautiful woman, you are my wonderful new wife." he adds, tightening his grip on the back of your neck.

You almost jump at that sudden gesture, you tremble and your heart beats hard in your chest. You don't know what to expect, you just know that you will be in pain and that he will almost certainly not be kind to you.

His hands push the edges of your tunic away, exposing you to his sight. His gaze is focused and he seems to appreciate what he sees. He then slides your tunic off your shoulders onto the floor and you are left with only two pieces of thin fabric covering your breasts and your privates.

He devours you with his gaze, he scrutinizes you as if he were a predator who is deciding how and when to attack his prey. His eyes are shining and you don't know what to do or how to behave.

"Come." he says, taking your hand and leading you towards a bed full of flower petals. “Sit down.” he orders.

You're scared, you feel your hands and arms as if they were lead. Tears begin to gather in the back of your eyes. You can't cry. You do not have to cry.

He takes your chin between his fingers, forcing you to suddenly lift your head upwards. He's huge, he towers over you. You feel even smaller around him.

"You're beautiful. You have the softest skin I've ever touched, darling." he says, touching your shoulders and then your arms. Your skin crawls as you follow your husband's hands with your gaze. He caresses you gently, while his gaze devours you.

"Undress me." he orders you and you, opening your eyes wide for a moment, obey with trembling hands. You bend down to untie his shoes, then sit back down and reluctantly untie his belt. You look at him for a moment before standing up and lifting his robe off over his head.

Naked he's even more impressive. Massive. Muscled. Although he's significantly older than you, he shows no signs of sagging with age.

"Have you ever seen a man?" he asks, probably noticing your quizzically look.

"N - no " you reply feeling an ever-increasing tension rising inside you at the thought that he will soon be on top of you and inside you.

"Do you even know your body? Do you know what you like and what you don't?" he asks you, perplexed and almost impatient.

You shake your head, “I – I've never had this urge.” you reply and he cocks his head to the side in surprise. “Sorry, General.” you add.

"General?!" he repeats, slightly widening his eyes and raising his eyebrows in a surprised expression "Here, in our room, I don't want formalities. In this room for you I'm Marcus."

Marcus.

"When we are in public you will call me husband only, okay?" he continues, caressing your lower lip with his thumb. You nod.

"Lie down." orders you Marcus. You lie down and put your head on the pillow. If you weren't so scared you would appreciate the softness of the bed and the softness of the pillows, but you're too focused on other things at the moment.

Marcus reaches you and it is in that moment that you see him and perceive him in his total might.

He places his hands behind your knees and opens your legs and then slides in between them. You swallow in fear.

"My wife doesn't have to be afraid of me." he tells you before bringing his face closer to yours. You almost gasp when he rests his forehead against yours. Then, he slowly places his lips on yours.

You've never kissed anyone, you don't know exactly what should be done or how you should feel about it, you just know that you have to please your spouse.

You feel his tongue caress your bottom lip and then ask for permission to enter yours, you don't want to, but you can't help it. You part your lips and his tongue enters between your lips exploring your mouth and seeking your tongue. You slowly imitate what he's doing even though, you're sure, you have a disgusted expression on your face. His kiss tastes like wine and spices, it's not a bad taste, maybe the problem is you who can't appreciate that gesture.

His muscular arms are on the sides of your face enveloping you completely.

You don't know exactly where to put your hands so you leave them at your sides.

He brings first one of your hand and then the other to his bare hip. All without interrupting that kiss, you interrupt it a few moments later by turning your head, but he takes your chin in his hands and searches for your lips again, while he caresses your bare side with one hand, his hand goes up to your breast and then goes down again and caresses your thigh and leg.

His lips move along your jaw, chin and then rest on your neck where he leaves a trail of wet kisses. You tilt your head to the side, he continues to kiss you softly your collarbones. Although your head is on the side and tell yourself again that you don't want to, your body reacts to his ministrations.

You exhale deeply, closing your eyes, your husband's lips — Marcus' — are on your breast, even though it's still covered. It's a hot cold sensation you're experiencing. You've never experienced anything like that. It's a feeling that almost scares you.

Your husband reaches up a little and first tears the fabric covering your breast and then he does the same thing with the other piece of fabric. You flinch in fear. Now he will take you by force, you think. You turn your head and wait to feel pain.

Marcus stops kissing you and looks at you. Your head turned sideaways, some of your hair covering your face. He moves them away before saying your name and drawing your attention back to him.

"Even if your head says no, your body is saying otherwise, my beautiful young bride." Marcus tells you "I know you don't know or love me," with this phrase he gets your attention, "I don't know or love you either, but time will surely help us." he adds, "I know you're scared, I know you're inexperienced, and I'm sure you know you're going to be in pain." you nod "I assure you that I'll do everything I can to make you feel as little pain as possible."

You appreciate it. You really appreciate it. The fear for the last gesture he made is slowly fading. You don't know if it's a trick to make you relax, but if it is, he's succeeding.

"Now I'm going to do something, I don't want you to hold back." you frown and look at him questioningly "It's not unpleasant, but it might seem strange to you at first."

He gives you a quick kiss on your lips, you close your eyes instinctively, then you reopen them when you feel his hands first and then his lips exploring your body.

That feeling again. It's not pleasant, but it's not the other way around either. It's strange.

His lips linger on your breasts, more precisely on your nipples which stiffen in response to his cares.

You moan feeling your skin crawl and close your eyes. You feel so strange. You frown, keeping your eyes closed. You thought that by now your marriage was already consummated and he had already left you alone with your pain but instead. . .

He leaves your breast and then moves his lips down to your belly, then goes down between your legs. You gasp when you feel the now torn piece of fabric being pulled away from your intimacy which is now completely exposed to his lustful gaze.

“Is it now that you're going to hurt me?” you ask, raising your head towards him. He raises his head and you see his eyes — now decidedly darker — staring at you and then he shakes his head.

He lowers his head towards your intimacy again and places a kiss there before starting to lick you.

You jump and instinctively move to close your legs, but he grabs your ankles and reopens your legs, exposing you again to his expert tongue.

It's the strangest sensation you've ever felt, it almost tickles you and at the same time it causes strange cramps in your stomach. It almost feels like you're on fire. A small moan escapes you, or rather more than one. If before, you would have liked him not to touch you, now it doesn't seem so unpleasant anymore, on the contrary.

His tongue seems to want to dig inside you and you arch your back throwing your head back with a sigh.

"Marcus?" you name him.

He shows no signs of stopping, in fact this gesture shakes you more and more.

"I feel strange, I think - I think there's something... wrong." you moan almost scared from the unknown sensation you are feeling with him.

Marcus raises his head breaking that contact "What are you feeling?" he asks as he dives into your folds again.

“I have a weird feeling here,” you respond reaching for his big hand and bringing it to your stomach, you jump when he focuses on a specific area of your womanhood.

"Oh, Marcus. . ." you groan "By Jove!" you start to moan uncontrollably and only then you realize that you are completely wet in your intimacy.

Then your vision blurs and you can almost see sparks behind your eyelids.

Only when this unknown tension leaves your body and you relax completely against the mattress, Marcus stops and moves back onto you.

You look into his eyes looking for something, but you don't even know what. He smiles at you tenderly, taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. You tremble, but not from fear. Now.

He kisses you and this time you return the gesture with less uncertainty. He places a hand in your hair for a moment in an affectionate gesture, then he sits down on his knees and you observe his body curiously: his toned arms, his chest, his soft belly and then your attention is drawn to what you have only seen once in a painting, his virility.

It's really big, its tip is red and seems to be crossed by many veins, you're attracted to it and he must have noticed your look, "Do you want to touch it?"

You nod, “May I?”

"You are my wife." it's his answer. You sit up, putting aside the uncertainty and even a hint of fear, then you reach out a hand towards him.

It's huge, you touch his tip and he jumps, you look up at him looking for confirmation. He takes your hand and wraps it around his huge manhood. You can't touch your thumb and forefinger, it's so big.

"Like this." he whispers guiding your movements back and forth along his cock. When he understands that he can abandon himself to your ministrations, he releases your hand and abandons himself by closing his eyes.

You didn't think the evening would go like this. You didn't believe he was so patient and taught you so much. You didn't believe that caressing him would give you so many shivers and that it would make him harden more and more in your hand. You didn't think you'd ever see an expression of abandon and pure bliss painted on his face. Everything's magnificent. He is magnificent.

He grunts and groans as he throws his head back, some of his curls fall onto his sweaty forehead, his eyes are closed and his lips parted. At this moment he almost reminds you of a Greek god which you could admire in a painting when you once visited Athens a long time ago.

“Now stop,” he orders you. You obey, observing the tense features of his face, he lowers his head and looks at you. Now his eyes are two black pools that seem to want to swallow you. "Lie down." he adds and you obey.

In this position and with his manhood in his fist he reminds you a lot of the statue of the god Jupiter seen in the temple a few moons ago.

He lies on top of you, he caresses your face and moves a lock of hair behind your ears "Now I'm going to hurt you a little." he warns you "Are you ready?"

You don't know if you really are, but now you want to live everything to the fullest. You nod.

You see your husband spread your legs just a little more, then he squeezes his manhood in his fist and aligns it with your intimacy. You hold your breath as you see his manhood approaching you.

"Watch me." he says in an authoritative tone and you obey, eyes widening when the tip of his cock begins to dig in with greater force than his tongue had done before.

You try to maintain eye contact, but you're feeling a burning pain, tears build up in the back of your eyes and your skin crawls. Marcus places a hand on your cheek and then gently kisses your other cheek first, then kisses your forehead, your eyelids, your mouth and then all over again.

You feel full. Full of him. You're out of breath, your eyes are still closed and you're still holding your breath. "You're very good." he tells you, kissing your lips again. He caresses your hips, “Baby, I need to move.” he warns you.

You open your eyes, you're still out of breath, a tear rolls down your cheek which Marcus promptly wipes away by kissing it "It's okay, my sweet wife. You are going to be okay."

You gulp looking at his dark eyes, while he slowly starts to move. You squeeze your eyes for the pain, but you don't want Marcus stops. He pushes inside of you once, twice, three times before you start to moan and not for the pain. You raise your head hiding it in the crook of his neck, while he pushes with greater force back and forth. He places his hands on your hips to soften the blow.

You groan feeling on fire again, "It's almost done," he warns you moaning while he tightens his grip on your hips, "I'm coming, baby." he adds and then he release a long whine in your ear before to collapse on you.

"Remember," he says "I am yours and you are mine. Forever. And forever I will take care of you. I will do everything in my power to always make you feel safe and, if we can, loved."

[destinyisastar]

I'm the Fool 🥀

Alright I haven't written a single thing in MONTHS! So, one of my current interests is Hazbin Hotel so here is an idea for an Alastor story!

Think of the song Goddess by Laufey for future reference. This is just a part of the story (which may be the reason the title doesn't make sense yet) tell me if you'd like to see where else this can go! *This was written with a fem reader in mind*

Alastor x Reader

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀 🥀🥀🥀

Imagine:

You were an outstanding jazz singer. Your voice would send chills to anyone that was nearby. You wanted to be famous and knew that one day everyone would know your name. Your next stop on your tour for fame was in a bar in New Orleans ran by a woman named Mimzy.

It was tiny little place nothing too big, but it was better than nothing. Mimzy greeted you and your crew at the door. She showed you to your dressing room and gave the crew time set up on stage.

"Alright everyone! Settle down! Settle down now!", Mimzy takes a breath, "We have a special show for you all tonight!" cheering could be heard.

"Now you all know that I only give you what's best, besides the liquor here of course!" Mimzy giggles to herself," No, today we have a chance to see and hear a new rising star!"

You hold a hand to your heart, closing your eyes and take a deep breath.

"Please give a big loud welcome to the singing sensation Darling Y/N!" Whistling, cheering, applauding all sounds of praise can be heard.

You step on to the stage, waving. "Hello! Nice to see all you folks here tonight! Can't believe you all came here tonight to see little old me, it's simply a pleasure to be here tonight!" You giggle lightly. "How bout we get this show on the road!"

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You take a bow on stage, "Thank you all for an amazing night!"

Stepping off the stage gleefully you make your way towards the bar. "Darling! That was perfect, absolutely stunning, your gonna make it big, and when I say big, I mean big bucks!" Mimzy grabs you by the arm. "You'll have to remember me when you make it big after all I'm giving you the help you need for your little stardom." She gives you a wide grin.

"Yes, I'll remember you, I just need to make it there first, and it's not all about the money." You tell her calmly.

"Why of course it's about money, everything is about money, you can't be famous without being rich!" Mimzy laughs. "Silly girl, you still have a lot to learn!" Mimzy takes hold of your hand and begins to walk you through the small club. "I have an idea! Why don't I be your manager?! I can be a big help! I'll get you into all the clubs you need. "

You never really thought about having a manager, you like taking care of things yourself.

"Well, at the moment, Mimzy, I'm really not looking for a manager, I'd just like to keep singing wherever I go, it doesn't really matter where." You say smiling at her.

Mimzy's face scrunches up a bit and she holds your hand tighter. "Well, that's fine I guess but you'll need me one way or another." She mumbles and lets go of your hand. " Whatever, I'd like for you to come back again, you brought in a hefty amount of people, and they absolutely adored you!"

"You really think they did?" You ask shyly.

"Of course I do! Didn't you hear all that cheering? That was all for you and that voice of yours."

You smile, "Yeah I did hear it."

Mimzy grins, "Even though you didn't make me your manager, I'm gonna hold out on your deal that you'll remember me and give me a part of your fame, so I'm gonna introduce you to someone."

"Who's this someone?" You follow Mimzy as she leads you to a table in the corner. You start to feel nervous.

"He'll want to introduce himself, so I'll leave that to him." Mimzy takes a look at you, "Don't worry dear! He's nothing to be afraid of!"

At the table you see a man sitting there with a glass in his hand. You take a moment to take him in. As if he could feel you staring at him, he looks right into your eyes. He stands up from his chair and meets you both halfway.

"Alastor! There you are! Why are you all the way over here?! I thought you'd be in the front!" Mimzy puts her hands on her hips. You stand behind Mimzy suddenly feeling shy.

"Why Mimzy you know I'd want my own view." The man named Alastor says smiling.

"I picked out a seat specially for you for that exact reason!" Mimzy huffs briefly. She puts a hand on the small of your back and pushes in front of her. "Don't be shy now." She whispers to you.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure Miss Y/N." Alastor holds his hand out and you take it with a stutter. " Pleasure to meet you as well." You say to him feeling that your hand is a bit sweaty.

He takes your hand putting it up towards his lips and gives it a light kiss. Your face begins to warm.

"My, your voice is absolutely beautiful. I don't think I've ever heard such heavenly sounds before." He tells you letting your hand fall yet not fully letting go of your hand.

"Thank you for the compliment, although I'm not that great to be compared to heaven."

"Nonsense my dear, have some confidence in yourself! You are bound to be heard by the heavens themselves."

"You give me too much praise mister." You look away from him, feeling small in his gaze.

"The praise is very well intended, and please call me Alastor." You look back towards him.

"Ahem, Alastor" Mimzy nudges him, and he lets go of your hand. "Tell them what you do."

Alastor takes a look down at her and fixes his glasses," Yes, yes Mimzy I will," He looks back at you giving you a smile. "My dear I am a radio host in fact I'm the most famous host in all of New Orleans, and I'd be most delighted to have you as a guest."

"Really? I'm not all that special, I haven't got much experience, I don't think I'm radio material yet..." You begin to ramble.

Alastor just smiles and tilts his head slightly, "My dear," You look at him and give him a smile of your own. "It would be my pleasure to have you there with me."

You take a minute for yourself, "Alright I'll give it a shot," He grins even wider, " you'll help me right, Alastor? "

"Yes, of course I will darling."

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Alright! This just the beginning, please give me your thoughts. I haven't done this in a while. I'll start posting again soon enough once I make myself write again.

Have a good day!!

[darkpoisonouslove]

HotD S02E05

I had things to say about this episode before I'd even watched it, which I'm sure tells you that everything is magnificent and I have thoroughly enjoyed myself. I see we've now established a pattern of one episode being more setup and then the following having all the good stuff. I'm just kind of running out of patience and tolerance for the bullshit writing decisions that I'm forced to witness all over the place.

I see that the writers are really going to ignore Meleys killing all of those people during Aegon's coronation just to make a fool of Criston and make a victory that's already cost a lot cost even more. Personally, if I'd heard about all the people that were crushed by a dragon during the king's coronation and then I saw the same dragon killed, I'd be relieved at least, if not cheering. We heard so much about how killing the ratcatchers was bad because it alienated the Small Folk, but apparently avenging all the deaths of said Small Folk at your coronation is also somehow bad for PR? How am I supposed to take this as anything but anti green propaganda at worst and a sloppy plot device at best?

I swear to fucking god, if I have to hear one more time about how peaceful things were under Viserys' rule, I'm flipping a table. As if Viserys isn't solely responsible for this whole mess by not managing things better at least if he couldn't be bothered to keep it in his pants and not have any more children. I for sure enjoyed Rhaenyra admitting that he didn't teach her shit but it's so very funny how she says that now while in 1x10 she was explaining to Luke how her father passed all this knowledge down to her and she'd do the same for him. The writers are clowns.

I love how they were so set on making Aegon look like a fool, especially in last episode, but Rhaenyra is in the exact same position! How is her Council talking over her not the same as Aegon's council pretending he's not even there? And yet the show's framing is so insistent on how that's a great hurdle for her to overcome while in Aegon's case it's proof that he's not worthy to be king. To be pretty fucking honest Aegon is at a disadvantage because he's younger. Rhaenyra had time to prepare herself but she was the one who chose to hole herself up in Dragonstone and have sex with Daemon instead of being in King's Landing and ruling in her father's stead and building her positions.

Not Jace complaining about being kept safe at home to the same girl that his mother is treating as disposable just to not risk his ass. And they had to have Baela comforting him.

I've seen people complaining that Daemon is not supposed to remember his mother and they just included this willful incest to make him look worse. Enjoy! Clearly he's manifesting his complexes about being the most suited heir to the throne by having mommy tell him so and take him as a lover because he's just so great.

He's really funny, though. He's threatening left and right and then he can't even follow through because he knows he stands no chance without the people he was just threatening to burn alive. At least when Criston was threatening executions, he committed to them. Literally how are the Blacks in such deep shit when they have more dragons and more houses pledged to them? Looks like a skill issue.

They fumbled my Criston x Alicent x Larys love triangle so bad. I wasn't expecting them to actually do the funny thing, though they still can! With the way things went between Alicent and Criston, now is the perfect time for Larys to pull some Parent Trap shit to make sure Alicent is indulging. I think Alicent might be more receptive to hearing him out than Criston. His argument was the only one that wasn't based on her own mistakes in recent weeks. But he is now essentially saying "you have to make the sacrifice for our cause" when just last episode he wanted her to stop her self-sacrificial agenda and start giving into her impulses. The way that things have shifted since then is insane.

I see people also going "gotcha" at Alicent for the fact that the Small Council didn't back her claim and I must say... As a staunch Alicent supporter, who has constant brainrot about her, I have to agree with their decision. Alicent has done nothing but hinder them at every turn with her refusal to go against Rhaenyra. Thank god they don't know about her Sept escapades with Rhaenyra or they might have wanted her punished for treason. But yes, if I saw this woman completely ignore the fact that her six-year-old grandson was decapitated, I wouldn't trust her to lead me either. The way the writers have chosen to make her act is just completely nonsensical.

Listen, I know it's the same country and everything so the battle strategies would be mostly the same but I can't get over how copy-pasted HotD and GoT feel. The fact that both sides have dragons here should change things drastically and yet...

Daemon having the nerve to comment how awful of a person Aemond is. I'm sorry, did you project too hard? Tbh I hate how they've changed Aemond's character completely from the book and from the first season where he could have easily gotten the throne for himself but he didn't. And all of that just to have their parallels between Daemon and Aemond and still manipulate the viewers into siding with Daemon. I mean sure, he's refusing to recognize Rhaenyra as his ruler but he's still talking about them ruling together. Meanwhile Aemond went and straight up Dracarys-ed his brother. I have no words left anymore. Just fucking change everything so that Rhaenyra wins and put me out of my misery already. It's clear that that's what they want to the point where I'm not sure how they'll keep true to the story.

Corlys finally deciding to make Baela heir to Driftmark is the epitome of too little, too late. The fact that they made her decline too and with that stupid explanation. As if Joffrey or whoever's now named heir to Driftmark isn't "fire and blood" either. Istg this show fucking hates everyone that isn't Rhaenyra or her children.

Daemon, you had one job! Unfortunately, I'm going to have to say the same for Aemond because I hear he burns the Riverlands in the book. Like, bud, how'd you fumble that so bad? They are yours for the taking (assuming this isn't something the writers just invented).

Love how they gave Rhaenyra one (1) idea in sending Ser Alfred to deal with Daemon and then instantly upstaged it with Jace's idea for the Dragonseeds. Almost as if they are so afraid to let Rhaenyra do anything that they have the men around her do her ruling for her. I mean, this could blow up in their faces.

I have to say that I'm not even excited about next episode. What do I have to look forward to? The writers continuing to butcher all the other characters for the sake of their team Black agenda?

[soupbabe]

I Remember You (OPLA! Sanji x Male! Reader)

While on a date with Sanji, Reader remembers where he's seen him before.

Yeah this is literally just a recreation of this scene from My Big Fat Greek Wedding shshsvskbdksj been thinking about it too much and thinking about a Sanji who's a bit nervous and wants to impress reader <33

You gazed at the blonde that sat across from you with a gentle smile. He held his glass up to his lips, sending you a duchenne smile as he drank. "See something you like? Or is there something better going on in that pretty little head of yours?" He quipped. You chuckled and shook your head. "No, I was just thinking about something you said earlier. You mentioned you loved the sea, right? But we're at a restaurant on land.. y'know I've been to this one restaurant before. It's on a ship out at sea." Sanji hummed in amusement as your features scrunched up in concentration. "It was something like Bartay? Barity?" "Baratie." Sanji corrected, his body language suddenly going stiff at the restaurant's mention.

You lit up as soon as the word left his lips, "That's it! Baratie! Best seafood in the whole East Blue, I'll tell you that much. It's gorgeous too." As you rambled, Sanji paid more attention to his drink. As much as he cared for and loved Baratie and it's staff, he'd rather choke than bring a date there. It was a place to pick up men like you, not to sit down to have something more serious. Who knows what someone like Zeff or Patty could do to embarrass him and ruin his night with you. They knew how to press his buttons and the last thing he needed was for someone to scare you off.

You stopped your gushing about the restaurant to reach out a hand to the silent and rigid cook. "Everything okay, Sanji? I didn't bore you, did I?" Sanji shook his head and swallowed the last drop of liquor from his glass, "Of course you didn't, Y/n...My old man owns the ship. Built it from the ground up." He watched as your lips formed a small "o." Your shock lingered in the air as you tilted your head to get another look at him.

As soon as the silence began being too much for Sanji, you spoke. "Wait a minute...I think I remember you." "How so?" The man quirked his brow. " You're a waiter." Sanji couldn't help but laugh. "I'm a chef, actually.." Your smile grew as you recounted the memory. "We locked eyes across the bar. You got distracted and spilled wine on the customer." Your date blushed a dusty pink at the mention of the incident, his hair standing up on the back of his neck. "I was going through something back then. An awkward phase you could call it. Didn't know what to do when a man such as yourself paid me any attention." He forced out a chuckle before regaining composure. "But I like to think I've grown since then. From some awkward, scrappy kid to the gentleman you see before you." He smiled and shot you a wink.

"I'd argue you were still a gentleman. Albeit a bit clumsy, but just as charming." The way you tilted your head and looked so fondly at him, it made Sanji melt from the inside. You going on this date was more than just taking up an offer from a flirty stranger. You were so genuinely enthralled by him that it took him off balance. "So, what do you say?" You smirked. "Let's go to Baratie, I want to meet your folks."

[epickiya722]

Haha right? It's so normalized while it's actually so inappropriate to go to a stranger and talk about their sexual preferences.

I hate how "x fans" is called "x fuckers" now. Yeah I like Sukuna. No I don't want to fuck him. But all there is in his tags.

I'd go as far as to say that people don't care about characters. They just want to put them into tropes box to imagine them as their vampire/alpha male/ceo lover.

And I find it ironic how the same will trash talk about fanboys while they do the exact same thing. '"let women be horny" they will say, because reducing a story to you being horny is ok.

I still want to publish my stories because some fandom gave me hope. But I don't hold my breath anymore.

It is very inappropriate. Like, damn, I can't just like the character? I can't be entertained by their antics?

There are just so many things that shouldn't be normalized across fandoms and going into someone's inbox to be like "*insert character* fucker" is one.

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind people having their fantasies about their faves, let alone am I gonna police anybody on or care to. Waste of my time, I got fics to write! Posts to post! 😭

But sometimes I do think "does this person actually care about the character's story"?

Because some of those same people will have so many takes on their faves that don't even be that character. That is a whole OC you created!!

I actually wasn't aware of this until only recently that people accepted for Sukuna to become some absolute horndog when Yorozu was up all over him. Maybe I missed something, but Sukuna only ever expressed being interested in fighting and killing people and personally, he never really came across as some sexual deviant to me.

I feel like sometimes if you have this fanon version of your fave, that is not your favorite. In no way, should you feel the need to like this whole other version of your "fave" in order to like him. Then why have them as your favorite in the first place?

I like Sukuna because he entertains me. He's this evil ass menace who wants all the smoke and the biggest beef he has is with a 15 year old (who is my all time favorite of JJK). Sukuna also this mysterious air about him because we still don't know much about his backstory, let alone everything he can do. (I had this recent thought about a technique that I should probably get to writing.) I have theories about his character, like how he may really be as a person, true. But at the same time, I'm not gonna believe my theories about him are canon because "I know him better than Gege". Anything I say isn't canon unless said so explicitly. I didn't create Sukuna. I am just another fan just vibing along with the story.

And it really is insane to me that people will do that. People were saying "female fans of JJK are ruining the fandom, they're all so horny" as if all us are horny, let alone engage in the anime for said reasons.

The same people *cough cough* misogynists *cough* who say that be the same people who will have a wallpaper of someone like Nami as their header and she'll have boobs bigger than what she has in canon.

Oooh, y'all don't like folks be objectifying the JJK men, huh? Even though for years female characters have gotten the treatment in Shonen. You cannot be dragging Gojo fans when you want to be Makima's dog. Stop that now.

Also, its not just the men! Uh, Yuki Tsukumo exists! She has a lot of fans who find her attractive. There's Shoko, Utahime, Takako, Mei Mei...

I'm waiting for the day 143 gets animated because I just know people are gonna go 👀.

Like, either way, if you're a person who gets constantly horny over your faves, why are you upset with someone doing the same?

I saw this meme post about how people tend to overlook the story and its details and only focus on the attractive cast and fights. And some people were like "but people are only focusing on the fights and attractive cast".

No, they're not. You're missing the point.

For one, you can find the characters attractive and enjoy the fights. That is fine. But at the same time, don't miss the story. Pay attention to it because it's just as important, if not more.

Second, not everyone is focused on just the fights and cast. If that was the cast, why do we have theories and meta posts? Why do we have people writing fics that study the character they're writing about? If no one is focusing on the story and only like the fights and attractiveness of the characters, then those kind of posts from fans wouldn't exist.

[giorno-plays-piano]

Thorns In His Mouth

Part II

Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.

Words: 1k

Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn’t force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone’s wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.

Part I

________

You frowned at how accurate his words were. For a second, you even thought he could have been watching you when you met with a man on the street, but you dismissed the silly idea. Surely, being a High elf, your friend could easily track Steve down: he had explained fallen elves or any other magic creature in exile could no longer stand up to those who lived in the fae's realm. Steve, looking worn-out as he was, didn't seem like much of a threat.

Maybe you weren't the only one who had been searching for some fair folk relative in exile, and that's why Steve knew.

"I'm impressed though, I must say. I saw lesser fae doing this for someone important, but never humans," the elf cocked his head to the side again, letting his bleached hair fall on the dirty table. "You must be very reliable."

You stared at your colorful cupcake on the plate, suddenly feeling ashamed. "I'm not, really. I'm just indebted to him."

"I'm sure you are," Steve continued, "but humans can easily forget about favors done for them, unlike fae, you see."

As you stilled, an unreadable expression on your face, the man brushed a lock of his hair away from his face, dropping his gaze to the table top as if he realized he was unintentionally rude.

"Don't take it the wrong way. It's just how you humans are," he muttered under his breath, and your face softened at his visible discomfort.

You exhaled loudly, wondering why the stranger was still sitting at your table after learning about your reasons. "I suppose."

"So this means you are reliable, surely. I'd say you're pretty brave if you decided to come here, of all places," he gestured somewhere to the side, pointing to the cafe and all those creatures who had their fair share of fun while you two talked. "Unless you like to hang out with a similar company."

Distracted from the noise and all the craziness happening around, you quickly came back to your senses and forced whatever words you wanted to say down your throat, squeezing your eyes shut at the sight of a hairy long-eared creature vomitting on the floor just beside Steve. Damn, this place was revolting. You just couldn't stand sitting here, but you were afraid to move from your chair just as much.

"I guess not," elf said with a shrug. "Take a bite of your cupcake, you'll feel better."

You very much doubted it, but the fair folk was prohibited from harming humans, so, probably, it wouldn't be too bad. Maybe the sweet taste would keep away the disgust you felt.

Steve smiled, "Not bad, huh? I know the cook. He loves baking."

Well, the cupcake was certainly tasty, and the sugary frosting made it feel so much better than you anticipated that you ate it nearly in one bite. You didn't expect it to be good, really, knowing the waitress was handing her customers some suspicious liquids and powders along with needles instead of food.

Actually, she could as well put a drug in that cupcake, and you wouldn't even know.

"Woah, relax there," the elf said when you nearly forgot all about his existence. "That's just a dessert. You asked for some sugar yourself, right? They wouldn't serve you anything beside your own type of poison.

"You sure? I mean, it's not like they can't pretend they know nothing about drugs," a shiver ran down your spine as you said it, suddenly feeling hot.

Steve rolled his eyes, pointing at the waitress busy serving others, "Look at her carefully. See? She's a fairy. She can't lie. It'd be easier to make a stone talk than to make her bring you a drug you don't want."

For a second, you stared at the white plate with several red crumbs on it, asking yourself what could you do if you really swallowed a drug. If you were to catch a taxi and run to a hospital, what would you say about being drugged? Would they even identify the substance? Would they know what to do with it?

Watching a waitress blew up a pink bubble with her mouth, you thought it didn't feel like eating a drug. Maybe you were alright. Maybe it was just your fear and nothing else because the fairy didn't bring Steve any drugs either, right?

"I think I need to, uh, get going," you said, waiving to the waitress to get a check. "I don't know much about elves living here, but it doesn't seem like the one I'm looking for is in the café."

"You sure? Don't you wanna ask me?"

Staring at the painfully skinny man who was leisurely tucking a strand of hair behind his long ear, you froze on the spot. Could he be the one you're looking for? He was definitely an elf.

"I don't have anyone looking for me, if you must know," he smirked as if he knew what you were thinking, and you rubbed your eyes in irritation, feeling like it was too much for today.

Elves, drugs, poisons, scary-looking creatures retching around, a suspicious, unkept man with horribly-looking hair ... Damn, you just wanted to leave. You wanted to leave so much that you nearly thought of giving up on your promise.

"Well, then I should be going," you tried to stand up, waiving to the waitress still chatting with some fae with a funny looking long nose, but Steve suddenly made a move with his hand, and you sat down immediately against your will, gaping at him. "What was that?!"

_________

"Shhh, don't panic. I just meant I could give you a hand if you wanna keep looking for this elf. But not for free, of course, if you know what I mean."

Part III

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki ​@helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen @magnificantmermaid @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @youngdreamer3214

[cordeliawhohung]

Do you got any SFW or NSFW Headcannons for your Knight!Price Sir John im in love with that one shot and i definitely need more!! ♥️3♥️

WHY YES, YES I DO

Millie is talking about my Knight! John Price x Princess!Reader one shot "As You Wish" for any of you who are interested <3 i've been dreaming about eventually turning this one shot into a proper fic once i have more time. just too many ideas and not enough time ): spoilers and whatnot under the cut!

Sir John Price is only a knight because he comes from a long dynasty of them. His father was one, and his father before him, and so on. It's a good paying job, and one he doesn't mind doing, but if he hadn't been trained to fight from birth, he would have chosen a different profession. However, he is the first in his family to receive such an honor as being the king's personal guard.

He's a natural scholar, as seen in the story. He reads up on all the old stories of the gods, ones that are seldom worshiped anymore. It's why he was able to point out the constellations to the princess and entertained her with stories while they were snowed into that old cabin.

He's a better hunter than most knights are because he always thought it was unfair that food would be given to him simply because of his profession. He made sure he studied well with the bow to be able to provide for himself and not expect people to provide for him simply because he was someone to be feared.

Though he studied the gods, he's not a religious man. Never really was. Only read about them because the old folk tales were a good way to pass the time.

He isn't married in the story, but he's not a virgin. He'd never pay for sex, and would always stray away from prostitutes, but sometimes during campaigns he would be approached by women. Never would seek sex first, though, and certainly not because he didn't want it. He's very aware of the fear his status brings, and he likes to know that a woman is agreeing to fuck him because she wants to and not because she's scared to say no to him.

Because of this, the man is TOUCH STARVED. He was secretly eating up every moment him and the princess had to cuddle up to stay warm in the story. And when she was naked after she fell into the stream? Of course he is a chivalrous man, but he certainly enjoyed it more than he should have lmao.

On that note, he is a very giving lover. Not submissive, as we've seen him be more than stern with the princess he answered to in the story, but just willing to do whatever it takes to please.

He really likes missionary in this universe lol. Just likes seeing the look on his lovers face while he's fucking them because he refuses to rely on sound alone to ensure that they're actually enjoying it.

I like to imagine he sketches. He cannot draw people for the life of him, but scenery and objects are his forte. If I do end up turning this into a proper fic, I'd like to include more of this into the story.

As a child, his favorite animal used to be the fox because he liked the scarlet red color of their coats. Until he saw an old farmer sobbing over the loss of his chickens due to their untamed hunger. He grew to favor the wood warbler instead.

He knows a few songs but is a terrible singer. Only recites them after he's had plenty of mead.

His favorite color is red. There's no reason behind this, I just think Knight!Price would look hot as fuck in plain brown pants and a dark red shirt lmfao.

He's also a bit younger in this universe than in canon due to people not really living all that long in these types of settings. I think in canon he's around 37, but I'd place him closer to 32 in this universe. Not much of a difference, but with him being a knight and all he probably wouldn't live to the age of 40.

Not even in this universe can John Price escape the breeding kink, because he certainly has one! However, he refuses to have children and subjugate them to the same, harsh fate and training he had to endure as a child simply due to their lineage. (if only a certain princess would come along and save him from that fate... tragic.)

anyway, i think that's about all my brain can crank out right now. i love this stupid little universe. i still can't believe i created so many gods for them to worship lmfao. i did way too much world building for my own good, but given the chance i would utilize a lot of it in a proper story (: thanks so much for giving me the opportunity to gush about this!!! i'm honestly really surprised a lot of people enjoyed that story la;kdj

[fangirlingfromdownunder]

A.P.U Comfort

Summary - Part 18 in the Comfort series

Pairing - Dean Winchester x Reader, Reader x Sam (platonic), Reader x Bobby (father-figure)

Warnings - mentions of miscarriage

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

A/N - G’day guys, I just wanna start by thanking you for all the likes, reblogs and follows since my last post, I really appreciate it. I hope you like this one too. Beware though, this one is a little longer than usual – I got a little carried away as I had a particular episode in mind that I wanted to rewrite for this situation. The GIF below is a major hint at what we're diving into. Until next week, enjoy! 

Meanwhile in Sioux Falls…

“I don’t know what to do, Bobby. I don’t know how to help her feel better when I don’t know how to shut off the pain myself. She’s a shell of herself…I just want to see her smile again. She would’ve been an amazing mother, you know.”

“For a start, you don’t shut it off. You share it. You confide in your girl. Let her confide in you. ‘Cause you’re no better. Sam said it’s like living in a morgue and now I can see for myself what he means. You will both be great parents when the time is right. Neither of you is the type to give up on anything when it comes to helping others, you just need to apply that same passion to yourselves and each other.”

“How?”

“You love her and you let her love you. In the meantime though let’s go see what Jody claims is so urgent.”

They gear up and get into the Impala and drive 20 minutes to a cafe in Hartford, where Jody had said to meet her. 

“Howdy boys, thanks for meeting me.”

“Anything for you, Sheriff,” Bobby says as he exits the car. 

“Hey, Jody.”

“Hey Dean, glad to see you’re holding up okay. If you and Y/N ever need a home-cooked meal or company be sure to drop in. I’m here for both of you.”

“Thanks, I’ll be sure to let her know when I get home. So, what’s the case?”

“This is a small town. Only crime to speak of being the occasional cow tipping. Then last week...four people go missing.”

“All right, so, what makes you think this is our kind of weird?” Dean asks

“I've got a witness who says he saw someone lift an S.U.V. to nab a girl last night. Now, normally, if somebody would tell me that one guy lifted an S.U.V., I'd tell him to take a flying leap, but after what I've seen…”

“Nothing's impossible,” Bobby says.

“Uh-huh.”

“And this matches up with the other missing how?” Dean asks.

“Well, four abductions, strong evidence left at every scene -- literally,” Jody says as she pulls out a folder full of photos and case reports and spreads them out on the table between them.

“So, the first vic was a pastor?” Bobby confirms.

“Yeah. The door of his study was punched in. And then, the next two…an engaged couple.”

“Locked bedroom window was ripped open,” Dean reads out.

“Mm-hmm. And then we have our waitress here with the topsy-turvy ride.”

“Any other connection among them?” Bobby asks.

“Yeah. They were all members of Good Faith church here. My, uh, my church group back in Sioux Falls was in a tizzy over it.”

Dean gives her an inquisitive look and says, “I didn't peg you for churchy.”

“Yeah. You know… all this stuff I’ve seen recently kind of makes a higher power seem relevant.”

“Okay, so, we have, uh, missing church folk and super strength. Maybe angels harvesting vessels? Could be a Buddy Boyle type thing,” Bobby says.

“Wh-- angels? You're joking.”

“Don't get your pants on fire. They suck,” Dean says, “you said there was a witness?”

“Yeah, well...more or less.”

“We’ll be needing to meet him,” Bobby states.

Jody scribbles an address down on a napkin and slides it across the table to Bobby, “This is where you’ll find him. Not sure how reliable he’ll be. Anyway, I’ve gotta get back to work. Good luck, and keep me updated,” she says as she gets up and makes her way out of the cafe.

Dean and Bobby tidy up the files and head back out to the Impala and drive to the address Jody gave them. They walk up to an alley filled with makeshift tents and trolleys full. They walk around the back of a restaurant and find a messy-looking man sitting on the ground leaning against the brick wall. They clear their throat and flash their fake FBI badges at him.

Dean takes a seat on the couch the man led them to and says, “So, tell us about this missing girl you reported.”

“Honor. Her name was Honor. Nice girl. Always left me meatloaf.”

“Why don't you tell us what you saw that night?” Dean says.

“I heard a big noise, got woke, and there's somebody over there lifting a car up.”

“And did you happen to see who it was?” Dean asks.

“I was too far. But I saw a light go off.”

“A white light?” Bobby asks

“Blue. Blue like fire. But not. Then she was…she wasn't there.”

“Could you think of anything else?” Bobby asks.

“No.”

“Okay. Well...thank you for your time,” they both say as they stand up and see themselves out. 

As they get into the Impala Bobby says, “Okay. So, no white light.”

“No angel. So Jody said that they were all part of the same church?”

“Yeah.”

“Ready to get your worship on?” With that, Dean pulls out into the street and speeds off towards Good Faith Church in the centre of town. He pulls into a park in front of the large religious building. They take in the multicoloured stained glass windows showcasing stories of the bible as they walk through the heavy wooden doors. A short lady with shoulder-length blonde hair welcomes them.

“Welcome to Good Faith Church, I haven’t seen you at our services. Are you new to town?”

“Something like that,” Bobby says as he shakes her hand.

“Well then, can I interest you in a tour?”

“Sure,” Dean says with a nod.

They follow her around the halls of the chapel and listen as she tells them stories of their faith. At the end of the tour, she leads them into an office and offers them to take a seat. “We hope you enjoyed the tour. Any questions before we get you boys registered?”

“Uh, yeah, look, Ms Futchko,” Bobby says.

“Oh, please... Bonnie will do just fine.”

“Bonnie. Okay, we...love the church. We do. But...Well, we've heard that a few members have gone missing, and, to be honest...that kind of scares us.”

“Let me assure you, with our increased security, Good Faith has never been safer. And those people who have gone missing, well, they are front and centre in our prayers.”

“What a relief. Now, you must have been, uh, close to them,” Dean cuts in.

“Well, we do share the A.P.U. bond.”

“The A.P.U.?” Dean asks.

“Our chastity group...‘Abstinence Purifies Us.’”

“Oh. W-wow. You mind if we sit in on that, maybe see if it's for us?” Bobby asks.

“I'm afraid it's members only. I'm sorry, but it can get pretty personal.”

“Then count us in,” Bobby says.

“Well. I'll be a squirrel in a skirt. I'll be back in a jiff with the papers.” Bonnie walks out of the office to collect the papers, leaving Dean and Bobby sitting alone.

“A chastity group?” Dean asks.

“Dean, listen, if all the members were in A.P.U., then maybe whatever took them is stalking virgins.”

“And that Slim guy said he thought he saw fire. So, what are you thinking, dragons?”

Bonnie returns with two clipboards interrupting them. “All righty. You can just sign there, and your purification can begin.”

“Purity pledge?” Bobby reads out.

“It's a commitment to your virginity.”

“I don't think we can really un-ring that bell. You know what I mean?” Dean states with a smirk.

“Oh. I see. Well... If you just ask for God's forgiveness for your sins and make a new vow of chastity, well, then, you'll be born again as a virgin in his eyes.”

“So, you just hit the "virginity do-over" button, and all is good with the man upstairs?” Dean asks.

“It's not a button. And...this isn't just a piece of paper. I mean, this is your clean slate, your chance to be a virgin until marriage.”

“You know what, I’ve had my shot. Been married and all that, so I’m out. But you’re recently engaged, might be the perfect time for you. Sure your girl would be thrilled with the prospect of a pure white wedding,” Bobby says handing back the clipboard unsigned.

“Well, you had me at clean slate. Let's do this,” Dean says as he signs his name and hands back the clipboard.

“Congratulations, Dean Winchester. You are now a virgin.”

Dean gives her a tight smile and glances at Bobby. Bonnie takes the clipboards and leaves to start setting up the session. 

“You think Y/N will forgive me for this?”

“Depends…you planning on honouring your pledge?”

“As you said, it might be just what we need right now. Gives me more incentive to get her in that white dress already. Clean slate, new plan, the start of a happy future for us.”

“Alright. Well, you go get pure. I’m gonna hit the library.”

Dean hands Bobby the keys to the Impala and makes his way to the room Bonnie had shown them earlier where the meetings are held. When he enters the room he sees a group of women setting up folding chairs in a circle and laying out trays of food and coolers on a couple of folding tables along one wall. He helps set up the chairs before they all take a seat.

One of the ladies claps her hands and looks around the circle smiling. “Good afternoon, everyone. I'm Suzy. I thought we'd begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends.”

Everyone closes their eyes in a silent prayer except for Dean who is still watching everyone. After a moment he joins in and ducks his head quietly.

“Amen. Now, does anyone have anything that they would like to share?” Suzy asks. “Why don't we hear from our new friend? Dean, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?”

“Uh, hard to say, exactly. Yeah. Sex has always felt, I don't know, good, you know? I mean, really, really good. But, uh...Sometimes, it just makes you feel bad, you know? But, you know, when you get down to it, what's the big deal, right? I mean, sure, there's the touching and the feeling all of each other, my hands everywhere, tracing every inch of her body, the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling...Grinding. Then you hit that sweet spot, and everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just...Yeah. Uh...But the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. So, uh, I got my V card back. The end.”

The meeting continues with an air of discomfort after Dean’s confession. Dean watches everyone intently for the rest of the meeting. Once it’s over he helps tidy up the chairs and create small talk with some of the ladies to search for leads. 

He makes his way over to the leader, Suzy and says, “Hey, Suzy right? Great meeting. But I uh, I gotta say you look so familiar.”

“Yeah, I-I'm pretty sure we've never met, Dean.”

“Alright.”

“Wait, you're new in town, right?”

“Uh, yeah. New to town. New to this whole chastity thing.”

“Well, I provide individual counselling. If you ever need to talk.”

“So, everybody in the group, they dish to you?”

“They confide. Abstinence is – it's really rough without support and education. Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I-I live close. I'll just go grab them.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. With a, uh, with a kidnapper on the loose?”

“No, I'll be fine.”

“Tell you what, why don't I walk with you just to be safe, okay?”

“Alright, if you insist.”

They walk side-by-side back to her apartment. When she opens the door for them she says, “Make yourself comfortable.”

Dean watches as she takes off her hoodie leaving her just wearing a camisole. She sits down on her couch with her back to Dean. His cell phone rings, but he declines it quickly. He approaches Suzy on the couch and notices that she is crying.

“I can't stop thinking about my friends. I'm so scared for them. Will you pray with me, Dean?”

“Sure.” She takes his hand in her own and bows her head. Dean lightly squeezes her hand and awkwardly bows his head in response. 

After a while, she gains her composure and stands up abruptly. “Well, I’ll get you those books. Just give me one minute.”

Dean gives her a soft, awkward smile and stands up. He looks around the room. He sees a drawer slightly cracked open. He opens the drawer wider and in shock pulls out two Casa Erotica DVDs. His phone rings again, and when he sees the caller ID he’s quick to answer.

“Hey, sorry I left without saying anything, I had to come help Bobby with something.”

“I know, it’s fine. I just need to ask you something,” Y/N says over the phone.

“Shoot,” Dean says as he places the DVDs on the cabinet and makes his way into the hall.

“Is there more to our relationship than sex?”

“What makes you ask that?”

“Just tell me the truth, Dean.”

“Of course. You make me feel safe, happy, and hopeful. All feelings I haven’t felt since I was four. You make me want to be a better man. You give me a reason to live and fight harder to get to the other side of this dangerous, messy life we lead. You make me believe there is a way out. I don’t tell you every day, even though I should, but I love you.” He looks back at the door briefly, the images from the DVDs filtering through his mind distracting him. “I just…since you lost the baby…I guess I’ve felt lost. Like maybe there isn’t a way out or a future for us.”

“Dean…don’t say that.”

“You wanted the truth…I knew I never should have got my hopes up. You let me believe and then you let me down, again.”

“Don’t you dare blame me! I wasn’t sure either, and you’re the one that convinced me! You’re the one that told me it would be okay. I know you’re hurting, Dean, but so am I.”

“Hunters just aren’t meant to have relationships or families or futures.”

“Dean, baby, please. That’s not true.”

“Look around, sweetheart, it is.”

When the line goes silent he puts his phone away and goes back into Suzy’s apartment.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Tag list: (Leave a like or comment on this post or let me know below if you want to be added to the tag list for this series)

@bitchwitch1981, @muhahaha303, @justrealizedimmascifygurl, @mcdowell-123, @leigh70, @marvelsmarauder, @losa12308, @tapedeck-hearts, @luvjaida, @peachtxa, @ambearsstuff, @shadow-of-a-cloud, @slut-for-buck, @iprobablyshipit91, @sassy-pelican

[moonblossom]

Where I've been for a week...

This gets graphic about physical injury below the cut, so please don't read if that's something you're not up for right now. TL;DR I fell down the stairs and massively fucked up both my legs.

So last Tuesday, I was working from home as I usually do. I went upstairs to have a coffee and some banana bread my dad made. While up there, I realised I'd forgotten to set my work phone to DND so I hurried up and ran down the stairs to my room where my office is.

Big mistake.

The stairs into my room are varnished wood, awkward heights, and not very well lit. I slipped and missed my footing, which has happened a million times before.

This is where things get unpleasant. Read on with caution.

Somehow, both the tibia and fibula in my right leg snapped in half with enough force to drive them both through the front of my shin.

I was in and out of consciousness, but I do remember being surrounded by what felt like 40 EMTs (was closer to ten according to my folks - three ambulances showed up), one of whom was utterly charmed by my lizard. He looked about twelve. Bless him for distracting me while one of his partners cut open my favourite lounge pants and shoved the bones back inside my leg. I was not wearing underwear at the time.

We get to the Montreal General Hospital in... mediocre time, due to a fuckton of construction and detours. Bienvenue a Montreal, fuck right off.

They put me straight into a trauma unit and pumped me full of fentanyl and antibiotics. I vaguely remember one of the EMTs referring to my pain level as a "fifteen out of ten". They checked my entire body to make sure nothing else was injured, both manual and ultrasound to make sure I still had my spleen and shit. Thankfully, all my innards are still functional. They cut the remaining shreds of my pants off but managed to get my tank top off without too much drama. Someone was kind enough to drape a hospital gown over my boobs and... possibly my crotch? I was in too much pain to give a crap at this point.

They manage to take a few x-rays while I curse them and their ancestors and the hospital and just... the entire fucking world, and then fill me up with some delightful cocktail of propofol and ketamine. I remember very little after this point, but apparently they yanked my leg into place, noticing my right left ankle was severely sprained in the process. So that was fun. Apparently I cursed a bunch more, and made a bunch of jokes that were likely inappropriate but broke the tension I guess?

I "woke up" from the cocktail feeling like I was underwater, and then convinced I was inside Disney Dreamlight Valley, which frankly was a lovely way to come out of sedation. I think I was picking flowers with Mirabel Madrigal.

At some point during all this nonsense my mother managed to get in touch with my boss who was adamant that I take as long as needed, which was a good thing. My dad came to the hospital with me but they wouldn't let him into the trauma unit. It was very chaotic and crowded and likely gross to watch so I get it.

After the realignment, they pushed my gurney to the space between X-Ray and CT to get better scans. They were both occupied so I sat in the hall for a few minutes and vaguely remember saying "Bonjour, hi!" and "Can I help you?" to random people who passed me. Once a retail worker, always a retail worker, apparently.

CT confirmed I also had a broken bone in my left foot. They moved me into ER main, put a boot on the left and bandaged up the wound. I was told I'd need surgery but they were so overwhelmed (ER was like at 160% capacity or something) so they had no idea when I'd be cleared.

They brought me dinner which claimed to be frittata and mashed potatoes but I'm fairly certain was actually upholstery foam and wallpaper paste. Thankfully it was so unappetizing I didn't eat more than a few bites, because my nurse was like "Hey so you're next on the OR list. If they ask if you ate, say no." XD Bless you Meagan, you saved my arse multiple times. You are a sarcastic, foul-mouthed, adorable angel among nurses (and really all the nurses were lovely). About an hour later they wheel me up to the ER, wash me down as best they can, and start prepping me. I meet the surgeon, who is as brusque and no-nonsense as orthopedic surgeons tend to be, but he did take the time to explain the whole procedure and risks, and make sure I was comfortable and understood.

What they were gonna do was drill down through my knee and insert a titanium rod down the centre of the entire tibia. The fibula was close enough and a clean enough break that it could rely on the tibia's stabilisation. Fun note about this particular surgery - you can walk on it within days of it being installed. No cast or anything!

The anaesthetist suggested a sedative and a spinal block (similar to an epidural) rather than a full unconscious anaesthetic because of my medical history and they're just generally less dangerous. However, it turns out the sheath around my synovial spaces in my spine is made out of fucking Kevlar or something. They bent SEVEN NEEDLES trying to get a shot in. Took about 45 minutes. I was numb so it was nbd but it was like... ten PM at this point and everyone was tired so when the anaesthetist was like "I think we should do a general" I was like "sign me the fuck up where's the consent form" I woke up a few hours later in the PACU (post-anaesthetic care unit) with a titanium upgrade, 37 staples in four separate locations, an incredibly fashionable thigh-high bandage, and my mother at my side. I faded in and out for about an hour and then remember being in a tiny little private room with its own bathroom. A total luxury in our older hospitals (The MGH as an institution has been around since the 1800s and the building I was in was built in 1955 - the bathroom even had adorable black and white tiling typical of the bathrooms of that era). That's pretty much all the dramatic bits of the story. They kept me for a week working with nurses, orthopedic residents, and physiotherapists until they were comfortable enough that I could move around enough at home to attend to my basic needs. I have crutches, a walker, a rolling commode so I can do the needful literally a foot from my med, a desk that slides over my bed, and thankfully two incredibly patient and indulgent parents. I'm fairly certain they never expected to be cleaning their 42 year old daughter's poop out of a bucket, but what can you do?

If anyone is genuinely curious, I have photos and would be willing to write up the hospital stay itself but 90% of it will be me complaining about the other patients on the ward who screamed at the nurses for everything and if I'd been able to walk I would have smothered with a pillow, or the "food" they tried to feed me which got increasingly inedible as the week went on.

If you've read this far, bless you. If you leave a note or message me I'll do my best to reply but I'm floating in and out of a dilaudid-infused haze so it might be a while.

At this point I'm not too proud (or possibly I've just lost whatever shame I had left when they cut my pants off), if you feel like sending me a get-well gift my amazon wishlists are here: general wishes | https://www.amazon.ca/hz/wishlist/ls/1K85M74WULR1N?ref_=wl_share

craft supplies | https://www.amazon.ca/hz/wishlist/ls/PXBKTW4UK0AQ?ref_=wl_share

US wishlist | https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/2MT3KS1ZDZG0O?ref_=wl_share

(stuff will be delivered to my boyfriend and I'll open it whenever I'm allowed to fly down there)

[icypantherwrites]

Update on AO3 Situation + Final RAINN Support Event

(this is a little long, but please, if possible, read to the end.)

AO3 has *finally* reinstated my fanfiction To Become the Nightmare and in a way this nightmare situation is over. I'm still extremely frustrated and disappointed though with AO3 especially as I am 99.9% certain the only reason my issue was finally addressed was because I tagged their support page on Twitter/X rather than any of my emails and communications to their actual Policy and Abuse team. They also provided no apology or reason for the delay or an explanation for why their staff provided a 1-week timeline that they then ignored for 3.5 weeks. I'm grateful to have my story back, but this entire ordeal has been awful in so many ways.

I will also admit on a personal note it was also disheartening to see how many folks sent me messages, asks (to the point I locked them down on Tumblr) and comments on AO3 stories (of which I'd know there'd be even more if AO3 hadn't made the blanket decision to lock down all guest comments) wanting to know where I'd be updating now, getting upset over the fact I use Patreon as they don't want paywalls to read my works, asking about the status of current stories and former stories, etc. and very rarely, if at all, even taking into account how all of this was affecting me.

I have poured years into posting on AO3, on making it a platform where I have over 2.5 million words worth of stories for everyone to enjoy, and am dealing with AO3 painting me as some villain because I linked to an organization to try to help sexual assault victims, and their complete lack of communication on top of all of that felt intentional. It's put me in a really bad mental health state and coming in daily to see multiple people asking and asking about how will *they* read my stories and making me feel guilty for not updating just... it really hurt. And the answer was I didn't know entirely what was going to happen and was still hoping for the best outcome with AO3. And contrary to some of the accusations I received, I never intended to put all of my new and upcoming works behind a Patreon paywall and certainly never planned to delete any works other than the single one I mentioned (and I explained why that was). I may have used Patreon's platform (because it has better formatting than say Tumblr) and made the works posted there available to the public (anyone can join as a free member, fyi), but that was never the end-game and the fact so many people got mad and angry and posted honestly kind of cruel asks and comments... I'm really hurt. I'm a person too and I share my works with my own time and energy and to have everyone so embroiled in this "me me me" energy when I was really struggling with what AO3 did, just... makes me not want to post anymore anywhere at all. I won't do that because I won't punish those folks who have been supportive and kind, but please, take a moment before you comment to think how it feels to be the recipient of a message like that. That's all the energy left I have to spend on that but please, be kind. Be understand. Be appreciative for what you do have and remember always that authors have feelings too.

Going forward I'll be looking to get back to updating existing stories and publishing some backlog on AO3 during this suspension/lock; however, I will be holding off on that until AO3 lifts their own blanket ban on guest comments as I know there are plenty of folks who prefer to engage that way and/or haven't yet been able to get accounts. You may have seen as well that my account, given that it seems to be AI-bots leading the reason for the guest ban, has been locked down to only AO3 accounts able to read my works. That will remain in effect until AO3 releases theirs and it may be something I ultimately do to protect my account and my works in the future, but for now once the current AO3 situation has been resolved that will go back to access to guest accounts as well.

In the meantime, with To Become the Nightmare restored and the fact my earlier RAINN support events have thus far yielded $2 for me to donate (which hurts in other ways xD Come on y'all, financial support for a great organization and some emotional support and love for the author, what's not to like about that?) I'm going to do one final event to try to raise some funds for RAINN and at least try to make a small, positive difference in all of this mess.

For the remainder of this week, anyone who leaves an engaged comment (100+ words, no quote-backs in that word count, about the fanfiction at hand) on To Become the Nightmare I will donate $2 per comment to RAINN. It would also personally mean a lot to me as this story never really had a lot of comment engagement in the first place AND on top of that it got a really, really toxic comment. I unfortunately get those folks regularly on sexual assault recovery fanfictions I write because they refuse to accept that everyone heals in different ways AND also refuse to take accountability where if they don't like what they're reading they have the power to hit the back button on their browser and just not read it. I left that particular comment up (you can see it on page 2) if you want a taste of some of the people I still encounter to this day. Anyways, it would mean a lot to hear from those who may want to read it, but given that it both a; has sexual assault and b; is an M-rating please do read it at your own discretion. I'm posting the full summary below and please read the warnings tagged on the story. I'll post an update at the end of the week with how much we managed to raise for RAINN (and if you'd like to donate on your own too, please feel free~! ♥)

To Become the Nightmare

Summary: [College AU] “And if you didn’t want to have fun,” nails dug into Lance’s skin as the grip tightened and Dios, he couldn’t move, he couldn’t move, “then you shouldn’t have been such a pretty little tease, freshie. You wanted to hang with the big boys? Well,” he chuckled, “welcome to the real party.” Hot breath wafted over Lance’s face as the upperclassmen smirked down at him. “Now let’s get it started.”

[shadowmaat]

Good Omens s2: criticisms

Look, folks, I thoroughly enjoyed S2 and am not implying that the whole thing is bad or that it doesn't deserve a third season, I'm just an old-school nerd who believes it's possible to criticize and find fault with something you love. So, spoilers ahead.

My biggest problem remains the Gabriel/Beelzebub story. It doesn't make sense within the context of what we know of the characters. I just can't wrap my head around sanctimonious, rules-obsessed Gabriel falling so hard and so fast for Beelzebub. And that Beelzebub would feel the same way. It took millennia for Aziraphale and Crowley to reach a point where "love" was even a question, never mind deciding on an answer. I'm sorry, but you can't speed run a slow burn.

Sure, you can wave your hand and talk about how "sometimes it just happens like that" but that doesn't feel like it should apply to these two.

If we'd seen more evidence of it being something that has gone on for millennia as the two of them are forced into communication over and over again due to "bureaucratic reasons" it might work a little better. As it is, though, it just feels false. About the only way I can think of to resolve it is to have the two of them pop in again during a pivotal catastrophic moment in S3 and reveal that, surprise! They were never in love (ew) and it was all part of Someone's plan to get them out of the picture so they could work on creating something to stop Armageddon 2 without anyone being the wiser. But I don't think that's what's going to happen. I think we're meant to believe they really did fall in love.

It felt very cliché, and without any of the clever twists or lampshading I'd have expected. It does, however, do a good job of showing what could be possible if angels and demons set aside their differences to work together (and maybe even grow closer). And yes, as a sped-up reflection of Aziraphale and Crowley's own relationship, the parallels are pretty clear. Except for the bit where we actually saw how A&C worked together and influenced each other into becoming better entities, and with G&B we just have to take it, ha, on faith.

Where G&B's relationship was bizarre, the stuff between Maggie & Nina was... uncomfortable. They are, again, a watered-down reflection of Aziraphale & Crowley (more on that in a sec), but this time with the added interference of A&C trying to interfere to make them happen as a couple.

Nina herself called them out on that manipulative bullshit, and she was very right. You can't force people to be together, even if they would be a good match and like each other.

I'm also going to put a big red X next to Neil's name if he was, in fact, responsible for implementing one of my most-loathed clichés: giving a character an absolute dick of a partner in order to A) keep the preferred pair from getting together and B) showing how much better the potential partner is in comparison to the absolute dick. It's bad storytelling. More than that, it does a disservice to Maggie. If she is, as we're meant to believe, a genuinely good person and someone who would be a kind and caring match for Nina, then that should be enough. If you have to compare her to someone else to prove how much better she is then you're lacking confidence in the character.

To circle back to our human duo being a reflection of our ineffable ones, I find it a little weird to see Aziraphale & Crowley's relationship become a focus that's reflected in so many unsubtle ways. That isn't, to me, what Good Omens is supposed to be about. Their complicated (and yet simple) relationship is supposed to be background noise, in much the same way as they themselves are meant to be background characters who are simply bumbling around the main plot. I'm not sure I can properly express why it bothers me beyond that. It just does.

I'm also going to say the most wildly unpopular thing I could possibly say about the second season: I didn't like the kiss. I'm SORRY. I know how important and validating it was for 99% of the audience. I know how many people pumped their fists and cheered. And I 100% understand Crowley's utter desperation in doing it and Aziraphale's "I forgive you" auto-response. I'm not in any way trying to piss on anyone's enjoyment of it. I remember what a huge and hate-fueled debacle it was when the last season ended without any formal physical declarations of love. I just... was a tiny bit disappointed.

One of the things I loved most about Aziraphale & Crowley's relationship was that there was no physical intimacy. In a world where we're constantly inundated in every form of media (and advertising, and politics, and so on) that sex/physical romance is the ONLY way to prove you love someone, it was such a profound relief to see one example where that wasn't true. I know I'm in the extreme minority in my preferences, and I wouldn't expect the show to cater to my individual needs at the expense of a broader, more socially-acceptable message, I'm just sorry to have lost that.

Anyway, it was a bit of a thematically weird season, but there was still a lot to love and I hope we get to see how things turn out in season 3.

[landwriter]

Oh my god your writing has me in a choke hold!!! I’m curious about Hands and/or Shut Up, please! Your brain is amazing and lovely and I’m very excited to hear anything you have to share about your WIPs💚

Thank you so much! I've got a couple Hands asks marinating and nothing to offer for them yet, so Shut Up is the Twitter Beef AU (another excerpt here) where Hob is a comparative lit professor and Dream is an underground electronic artist, and Hob comes for him on Twitter. Death meddles and drops a diss track. Hob finds out at his last lecture before hols and plays it for his course in a fit of pique, and...ends up having the best two hours of his teaching career?

He slides into Dream's DMs for the first time under the cut:

He catches sight of the time and is surprised to see it’s five minutes past the hour. Normally, his cue is when a handful of students start pointedly packing their things in the last few minutes of the lecture. “Okay, we’ve gone on too long, because you’re all still here, letting me, but I do need to get to office hours, so let me conclude with the argument that this is why textual analysis is so important, right? The author chooses their words to say more than one thing, and, as we learned, having additional knowledge of where they’re coming from - historically, socially, culturally - is the real Rosetta stone for understanding their message. I encourage you to think about that while you choose your final paper topics over break. A final reminder that your draft thesis is due on our first week back, and yes, I will be able to tell if you came up with it that morning, so please, please, give it some thought. If anyone feels keen and wants to talk about their ideas now, you know where to find me. Office hours go until 6. Alright, go, be free. My apologies to anyone who was excited for Marlowe - we’ll cover him when we come back instead! Have an amazing break, folks.”

Students are coming over already and he holds up a quelling hand. “Office hours, guys. I have other classes! I’ll see you there.”

It’s true, of course, but also he wants just a quick moment to himself to do something. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he pulls out his phone and ignores all his notifications to send a DM to Morpheus before he can think too hard on what he’s doing.

didn't know you needed to be protected by your big sis, next time i'll go easier on you x

He hesitates, deletes the x, and sends it, and jams his phone back into his pocket. After his office hours - exhaustingly well-attended - he finally has a chance to check his phone again. He's not used to actually having three hours worth of students to talk to.

There's three messages from Morpheus.

she insisted also i wrote most of it for the record

He raises his eyebrows. The messages are from nearly two hours ago, which he hopes means it's not uncool and weird if he replies right now.

it was you? it's incredible writing

Then, feeling suddenly far too earnest, he quickly adds:

almost like you went to school for being something other than a pretentious goth cunt

His reply is marked read immediately and he nearly chokes on his tea. He desperately wishes he could delete the last message now. Too much, he thinks. Always too much, Hobsie. Morpheus is typing.

don't need to go to school for that x and thanks

He puts down his phone violently and stands up, breathes out. He feels like a teenager with a crush. His phone buzzes again and he snatches it back.

meanwhile i bet u have student loans still prof

Hob laughs.

only a little. some of us had to learn how to be pretentious actually x

He thinks for a moment, then adds, wincing a little at the size of the text block:

thanks btw. aside from threats from ur insane fans I also had the best lecture attendance in ages and my office hours were 'sold out' lol. if all I had to do for better student engagement was get in an internet feud with a random musician I'd have done it years earlier.

so u concede i'm a musician :)

you still have terrible taste in shoes hey i see you typing if you say anything about my sweatervest i'm blocking you!!

then have a good night, professor gadling

you too

Then he waits a little too long, maybe, before adding:

morpheus

[candyheartedchy]

sorry, my last ask was already pretty long but i forgot to add this and felt like this was also important. as someone who tried delving into specific microlabels and spiraled into a rabbithole bc of it for A While, i also wanna say that it's ok to just go with broader labels. it's ok to just say maybe you're mspec (umbrella term for being attracted to more than one gender) instead of elaborating if you're bi or other specific kinds of mspec. (i'm using bi as an example bc that's what i use for myself rn, not to be dismissive of the other labels.) it's okay to just say you're on the aro spectrum instead of specifying if you're demi or ficto or etc. if you feel like none of them stick perfectly. it's ok to just call yourself unlabeled or genderqueer or a secret third option instead of specifying if you're cis or trans. contrary to what some people might think, there is no dichotomy, no "if you are not X then that means you must be Y."

of course, if you find that microlabels work for you, that's awesome! i'm again just trying to provide a perspective of "it's not a must". it's ok to be like, vague with it sometimes. and i'd argue that trying to be too specific with it might end up stressing yourself out unnecessarily. it's not a bad thing to be specific, but i've just seen people give themselves a hard time for not doing that and i wanna say it's ok! :}

anyway, i don't want to come off as like someone only saying what not to do so if it helps: my fictional crushes and going by other pronouns are def what clued me into my own IDs in the first place. ever since i was a kid i have crushes on anyone (when it comes to characters), girls included! that clued me into the fact that maybe i'm not straight IRL. when i was a teen i figured i liked presenting masculine and neutral sometimes, and i went by genderfluid for a while. that didn't entirely feel accurate to me so i dropped it, and now i just say i'm trans and nb and leave it at that for the most part.

Don’t apologize, it means a lot that you’re reaching out and helping me about this!

The thing is that I never really used labels before, like ever, and honestly I wasn’t sure if I needed to because my attraction to folks (real and fictional) has always been all over the place and confusing. And not gonna lie, I been looking for a name for years to figure out what I would be called, but like you said, it’s like a rabbit hole.

And it’s great that your fiction crushes help to understand your attraction better and that you were able to go with what felt natural to you! Because that’s what I struggle with is being true to myself, so I appreciate you helping 💗

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Hey!! Could you make Eddie fall in love with a short, transgender boy who is a highly judged hippie because of his style and calm way of talking? :]

Hi! I'll do my best!

Eddie Munson x Trans!Male Reader

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

The more details you had to your request, the better it is for me. EX: "What about some fluff for Eddie after he's had a long day?"

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

__________________________

Eddie doesn't even need to go into the pharmacy if he's honest. He's not sick. Wayne's not. But Eddie waltzes into the place, by passing the displays of makeup, and sunscreen and ducks behind the slightly higher than chest high aisle of supplements. A few feet behind the aisle, past the condoms, feminine hygiene products, and diapers sits the checkout counter.

And just behind the counter--the stacks of boxes nearly swallowing you whole, and hair following to shoulders--is the real reason Eddie is here. It's ridiculous really. Eddie feels like some school girl, trying to hide his blush and gaze. He picks up a bottle, the pills rattling inside at the action and Eddie watches you grab a box from the pile on the counter next to you and hitch it onto your hip.

The store is relatively empty. A few people are behind Eddie at the pharmacy window to pick up prescriptions but no one's just shopping the aisle. And it doesn't shock Eddie that no one is. It's 3:30 PM on a Tuesday afternoon. Most adults are still not off from work and the schools have just let out. But Eddie is here, not really reading the ingredients of the back of some supplement bottle to see if he can work up the nerve to talk to you.

It's not like it would hard. You're nice, approachable in ways that others may be annoyed by, but you're always thoughtful in your responses. Eddie first noticed you in his second attempt at second year mostly in glances and in passing. The two of you occupied vastly differing social spheres and as much as Eddie fronts about conforming, he needed a social pack that wouldn't shun him. Not satisifed by what he noticed he created his own and it came a particular brand.

Which is not to say that Eddie scared you off or wanted to scare you off, it was just that the pressure of high schools still seemed more important in terms of suriving. But six months ago, in the height of the summer, Eddie ran into this pharmacy for a quick soda and extra bandaids. And that's when he noticed how you smiled gently at everyone and he noticed how much when you spoke, it soothed him and made his heart flutter. He'd since been trying to find any and every reason to come into the store without it seeming excessive.

"I didn't take you as a health conscious being," you laugh. The words are soft and carrying the air of a pause between each of them.

Eddie snaps his head over at you, slightly lost in a different realm of existence. He read Vitamin C and spaced a little trying to think about making it look convincing that he might be overselling the surprise. Eddie laughs, "Folks keep warning me smoking's going to kill me one day so maybe I'm trying to slow it down."

You nod. "Only way to do that for good is to give up the smokes."

Eddie shrugs. "You're probably right."

"We've got nicotine gum on aisle 7. Unfortunately, this is not a grocery store, so no cold turkeys."

It's a terrible pun. You knew that when you made it, but Eddie's grin is bright. It makes your heart flutter and have to be careful that it doesn't flutter too much given the bandages around your chest. Now speaking of chest, you shift the box to your front hoping it helps with the pressure too.

Eddie's snort is fast and hard. "You really should be ashamed of--"

"Do you have to work as slow as you talk? I'd like to check out please."

You nod at the customer behind Eddie. He doesn't look to see who it is out fear he might walk out of here in handcuffs with sore knuckles. "I'll be happy to assist right after I finish with my first customer." It is practiced and measured response from the months that you've been working here.

The being huffs behind Eddie and he risks a quick glimpse over his shoulder--Mrs. Dobrzynski. She's always had a snippy attitude. "I didn't mean to be in the way," Eddie starts. "I'm sorry."

"No," you return evenly. "You have nothing to apologize for. If it's okay, I'll handle her and then back. Feel free to peruse all our wares."

Eddie gives a nod, watching you return to the counter. The checkout only takes a couple of minutes to ring up the handful of makeup items she has and she huffs the entire time as you check her out. Her heels click harshly before she ducks back out into the harsh and bitter winter winds.

Eddie watches you approach, bottle of supplements still in hand that he has no intention of buying at all. But he can't seem to put them back as he watches over you face. It's not as soft as it once was, but just behind that too Eddie feels the edge of excitement. "Did you cut your hair?" he asks.

You smile just a little, hearing the genuineness to his tone and the smile painting his lips helps too. "I did."

"I like it. Makes you look even more handsome." Eddie offers the last part softly. He's noticed. Though he doesn't know a lot. He's noticed the way you've made it clear to those you care to pay attention.

You didn't anticipate Eddie to catch on, but when he utters handsome you think for the first time you're glad you don't have to fully say it. "Thank-thank you."

"Do-" Eddie stops the sentence, kicking the toe of his sneaker into the floor. He looks at you, down a few inches due to the height difference. "Would you like to go out sometime?"

"What-what do you have in mind?" Your voice is softer than normal and Eddie thinks it might be a good sign that you asked about specifics rather than the joyful yes he was anticipating.

"I know the arcade is probably lame, but there and then a movie? Or wherever is going to make you feel the most comfortable."

"No, the arcade and a movie sounds nice. I'd like that." There's the pauses again--the way the sentence falls smoothly from your lips and Eddie's grateful for the sound to ease the thundering of his heart. You can feel the sweat now pooling and you can't tell if it's the binding or the heat of slight embarrassment warming your body.

Eddie smiles. "When are you free?"

"Thursday is my day off. I can meet you at the arcade say 5?"

Eddie would like to pick you up, treat you like a gentleman should, but he nods. "5 sounds good. It's-it's all on me."

"I'm a working man, c'mon. Don't underestimate me," you laugh.

"I don't think I am, actually. Just--want to treat you right," it comes out softly and nowhere as smooth as Eddie would like it to be.

"You do," you return simply. "You already do."

Eddie, as he walks out of the store, fists pumps proud of himself for not making a complete fool out of himself. That is until he catches some laughter and he spins to spot you, work shirt traded in now for a winter coat. A backpack strap is clear over the brown coat. "You didn't see that," Eddie warns.

You hold up your hands. "I didn't see anything. See you Thursday."

"Thursday," he grins. Eddie watches you back out of the spot and start onto the street, chest still filling with pride. He prays that Thursday comes quick.

[toastedwrittenthoughts]

First of all; Damn.

Man... Looking at the titles to these episodes has my head whirling with ideas of where this show is gonna go...

After reading these I decided to make projections for the future and see if I am close or not.

Episode 6.... Sloppy Seconds Ain't My Style..

All I can hear is Johnny from Grease saying this ass a dig to Rizzo so I would want to put money on Richie taking a jab at Jane for not choosing him first, but I think that boy is too far gone for her to really dig in.

The second thought and one I'm REALLY hoping for is the potential Olivia x Gil relationship that's brewing.. He's gotten glimpes of Olivia and Mr. Daniels and when/if an opportunity to talk to Olivia, about this budding romance between them, he will be the one to pull away and say that he isn't the kind of guy who wants to be second choice to a teacher or something.

HOWEVER!!

Richie has yet to have a solo song! And since this perfect boy has just gotten his heart crushed a bit, he's well due for one... Just hope that it's a great deal better than Sandy. I am not hoping for sad and mopey. I'm almost expecting anger, bitterness that ends on a sad note.

Anger because of how he caught HIS girl with Buddy, bitter that HIS girl didn't want to wear his jacket, and I can't unsee him feeling that gutteral heartbreak at the thought that he LOST HIS GIRL, BEFORE SHE EVEN WAS HIS GIRL.

Do you know what I mean?

Cruisin' for a Bruisin'

Buckle up if ya can folk, I get a feeling we're gonna see a race or two but with a catch! Now if the creators of the show keep with the theme, Richie and Gil are our Zuko and Kenickie.

Now if I recall correctly, Danny races in Kenickie's place since he takes an injury to the head; but our boys Richie and Gil share the car but Gil hasn't really had a chance to shine as the Co-founder of the Tbirds. This I think is where he shines. I have a feeling that the Birds/Socs/jocks will get into an argument that ends with them racing, slips or bragging rights, don't matter.

What matters is that Olivia is going to be the flag girl. She is the one with neck ties that could work and honestly I would live for it. Gil sees here getting between the cars, share a look and the race is on. I'd want Gil to win just so that when he does get out of the car and everyone rushes around him to congratulate him, he sees Olivia and amongst the adrenaline, kisses her. Richie gets all protective like the good brother he is...

Though I would like to say that I think Gil would respect both Olivia and Richie enough to say that the way he acts with Olivia isn't because she's almost like forbidden fruit. Best friends sister and all that..

I would almost want Gil and Richie to sit down and for Gil to explain to Richie that he's cared about Olivia for a while, to which Richie would agree and that he's noticed...

I'd almost want a confession out of Gil in that moment where he tells Richie that he'd want Olivia to be his girl.

Or At The High School Dance.

Just classic getting ready for the dance and another time for our lovely lady Nancy to mak some AWESOME outfits for our lovely ladies and maybe get a special date all her own.

Cynthia I hope would rock a funky suit and perhaps I even be seen dancing with Lydia?

Anyway, that's all for now.

I look forward to the upcoming episodes.

If you have any predictions, let me know!