#but you wouldn't know that if you're an outsider making assumptions and not bothering to see the sort of people in these circles

[batsyheere]

Phantom doesn't trust the Justice League as far as he could throw them- which was a weird statement to make considering, so he might as well say he did not trust them.

First there had been the attempt to exorcise him. That had been done with some very obviously coerced members of Dark, who had eventually been stopped by a panicked Constantine who Phantom now had weekly tea with. (Because Danny needed more ways to defend himself outside of his ghostly abilities, and especially with the attention of the JL now focused on him. Constantine had not put up much of a fight, especially after that incident.)

Following that had been the JL's attempt at peacemaking and finally handling the Anti-Ecto Acts- which had simply sped up the work that Team Phantom had been working on since the majority of their group hit 17 and the threats were more human than ghost. Taking credit for the years of activism and appeal Team Phantom had already made efforts in had soured whatever they wished to gain.

Offering him a place within the teams of Young Justice or the Titans had been another layer of insult when they tried to pressure him into some sort of mentorship- Phantom very much was insulted by the implications that he needed any such help after the years of being left to fend for himself. And the implications that they thought they could control and observe him now.

The final straw was their invitation to join the Justice League itself.

"I don't know about you," Phantom drawls, tone almost apathetic as his head leans against his fist. He was hovering in the air, sat back in a pose his little sister often called his "I'm dealing with idiots and politics" posture. "But if I've repeatedly rejected and ignored an individual who asked for help, then ignored their requests to leave them be... well, I wouldn't assume they would wish to join your club and be pleased by it."

"King Phantom," Wonder Woman begins, one of the few who actually had any sense. She looks exhausted.

Another member, one of the Green Lanterns whose names Danny couldn't be bothered with after some rather volatile debates with the dead of Oa, cuts her off.

"Look, kid, you're being offered something most other heroes only dream of being offered-"

"Most other people have to be recommended or apply to join the League, or otherwise be ignored and left to handle situations such as a chunk of the Midwest sinking into the Infinite Realms through the directions of a tyrannical conqueror seeking to gain access to the mortal world."

Silence. There were a few winces, as well as a few heroes who were glancing nervously towards Superman who was frowning.

"Look, we've obviously made mistakes-" the man in blue begins. Phantom cuts him short as well.

"A mistake is dismissing a call about ghosts as a prank," he states. "A mistake is making assumptions based off the research of science and believing it to be true."

He sat up, crown flaring above his head with frost as the temperature in the room dropped.

"What you have done is blatantly allow a government to persecute and prepare acts of genocide, while ignoring the evidence and pleas of the people you swear to protect. You then proceed to ignore the word of those who have stood the line of defence and resolve the matter without any representation of the voices that fought long enough to be heard."

"What would you have us do."

It was Batman who spoke up. While not his favorite member of the League, Phantom could appreciate the fact that the man had been left out of most of the formal decision making on these matters- even Amity Park had heard of the strange mass outbreak of Arkham residents spilling into Gotham- something that had not happened in quite a while. It had kept Batman and his associate busy enough to keep away from League business, in an effort to keep the chaos contained to Gotham's borders.

But Batman had many issues and Phantom had very little care for them.

"At this time? Move on. The situation is handled, and those who have not screwed up diplomatic matters are informed and may keep contact. We want no further ties to the Justice League or it's members at this time."

[jjoongstar]

𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑

➸pairing: grim reaper seonghwa x innocent fem reader

➸genre: fluff, angst

➸wc: 3.4k

➸warnings: none. mentions of nicknames. death

➸a/n: an apology post for being mia for a while (please forgive me). not proofread!😔🫂

you sat by the window seat in your bedroom, reading a book while you bask in the evening sun. a soft blanket over your lap to keep you cozy and a cushion behind your back. you were so into the story that you didn't bother on what's happening appearing, in your bedroom.

a tall dark figure appeared suddenly in your room and it approached behind you in silence. you sense the presence and looked over your shoulder right before the figure could touch you. its pale hand was near to your shoulder but it halted when you noticed its presence.

silence fills the air as you attentively tried to figure out, who or what even is this peculiar figure. tall and lean with a long black cloak that covers the top of its head and its whole body, only revealing its face and hands. you stare back at the eyes that bore into yours from the start. though he had an intimidating look, you didn't fear him at all. instead, you felt at ease with its aura.

"i really like your eyes,"

"what?" the unknown figure was taken aback by your words and he stumbled backwards a few steps.

its face contorts in a shocked expression and it felt its heart thump when you smile at it. it clutches the fabric of its robe over its chest, feeling the weird sensation. what the hell is this? i don't have a heart!

you marked the last page you read and place the book aside before you make small steps towards the unknown entity. your smile never falter as you reach up your hands and graze your fingers across its cheek. cold. his skin was iced cold on your fingertips. you saw how the entity hitched its breath upon your touch.

"you're so pretty too. who are you?" there was no response as it was still in a stunned state. you gasp when your brain connected the dots.

"are you perhaps… an angel?!"

"huh? EW NO!" it felt disgusted by your assumption of its identity and grabbed your wrist, shoving it away harshly from its face. when you winced in pain, guilty flooded its mind.

"sorry, i didn't mean to hurt or scare you," its raspy voice speaks again.

"you didn't scare me, why would i be afraid of an angel like you," a pretty face like that, who on earth would be afraid?

"first off, I'm not that kind of angel you think i am. also, everyone fears me, so why are you…smiling?"

"there's nothing scary of you angel!" you said giddily and beams a wider smile at him.

"stop calling me that!" it said through gritted teeth and eyes blaring in flame. but you kept that smile on your face, yet you felt more intrigued over this unidentified presence.

"then do you have a name i should call you? oh my name is-"

"i already know who you are. there's no need for introductions when…you're gonna…huh?" the last words from it fades slowly when you wrap your arms around its middle and your eyes full of gleam, looking at it from below.

its shaky hands tried to push you away but the way your face was full of admiration and eyes glimmer in hope, it tugs another string at its non-existent heart. i guess it wouldn't hurt for my name since she's gonna die either way.

"seonghwa. call me seonghwa,"

"hwa!" his name sounded so beautiful too, it matches his face really well and you felt so happy that he finally gave his name to you. you hugged him a bit tighter than before.

"no, seong…hwa," he emphasised every syllable of his name.

"hwa!"

"seonghwa,"

"HWA!" he sighs in defeat and lets you win. however, he felt his body getting relaxed when you have him in your hold. for once, he felt…comfort.

"now dear, the reason I'm here is to-"

"to accompany me!" you cut him off and release him from your grasp as you went to your wardrobe.

he tried to speak up in defense but you ignored him as you dress yourself up in something warm and suitable for an outside occasion. you grab his wrist and drags him towards outside. even though he is bigger and much stronger than you, he felt like he should just let you take him to wherever you wish. that is, to take a walk outside.

he kept on babbling he doesn't want to to this, but he still kept on walking beside you because your hand felt so soft touching his, and you never let go of his hand. after a while, you got used to his skin temperature. cold, but soft.

you pass by your neighbor's house and the owner greeted you. being your usual self, you gleefully greeted back with a wave of your hand.

"I'm here with a friend today," you tug seonghwa to show off to the old lady, but she had a concerned look instead of the expression you hoped for. was she not happy with the new friend?

"oh uh dear, i bet your friend must be as lovely as you are, i hope…. you go get along now," she mutters out the words carefully in a sentence. hoping she doesn't hurt your feelings.

you continued your journey with seonghwa and truthfully, you felt a bit sad that the lady didn't greet seonghwa too. does she not see him?

"no one can see me accept you," you turned your head over him surprised with his sudden response. can he read minds?

"well, let's say, magically, i do can read your mind, but just yours," he chuckles and you felt your heart flutters upon hearing him.

"so you are an angel!" you stopped in your tracks and tugs on his arm.

"not so, well, sort of, actually I'm a…uh…I'm…" he tongue refuses to mutter out the words as he saw the way your eyes sparkles in adoration and hope at him. he didn't have the heart to say the truth when you're like this. but you kept the smile on your face, waiting for his full response.

"yea, i am what you call that," he sighs.

"angel hwa!" you finally release his hand and you skipped your way back home. you've never felt so happier to eventually got a friend, an angel at that. that's what you thought he was.

seonghwa on the other hand, his lips formed into a small smile on his face, his eyes admiring you from behind. she looks so adorable. what the actual fuck? he slaps his own face, realizing his own actions.

you made yourself dinner and even made extra for seonghwa. he doesn't have to eat, but seeing your efforts in the cooking, he force the whole dish down his throat. he sat beside you and prop his chin with the palm of his hand while he admires you enjoying your meal. he likes the way you would squirm in joy and praise the food in every bite.

so cute. what the hell seonghwa?! he snaps himself out and clears up his throat. then tells you to clean yourself up for bed. you happily obliged to his orders with a happy stomach.

once you made yourself in bed, seonghwa tells you to sleep, but you only whine back at him as you were not that sleepy yet. seonghwa sighs and sits down beside you on the bed, he leans his back to the headboard.

"sleep now or you'll be cranky next morning," he pulls the blanket over your chest, tucking you in.

"but i don't get cranky," you whine again with a pout. seonghwa's lips betrays him once again with another smile and he caresses your head gently. yea, a pure soul like yours would never be in that state. a pure soul. SOUL!

seonghwa's eyes widen and found himself in a daze again and snaps out of it quickly. your eyes never left seonghwa's beautiful face. you want to admire it your whole life. you finally felt the drowsiness crept in when you yawned.

"will i see you again next morning, hwa?" you ask him with lidded tired eyes.

seonghwa hesitated at first. should he tell the truth or should he kept on lying? he bit his lip, before responding to you.

"yes, you will. that is if you close your eyes now sweetheart," you scrunch you nose when he boops it.

you felt so safe with him. you held hope in his promise. eager in wanting to see him first thing in the morning, and you force yourself to sleep.

seonghwa waited for you to finally drift off when your breathing fell consistent and your mind at peace. he stood up carefully from the bed, staring down at your whole body. he lets out a long sigh before he brings out the scythe he had kept hidden from your vision.

he needs to take your soul now. he was supposed to do that when he first met you, but he delayed. you were the first person to like him, to admire his beauty, the first human being to actually hugged him. hug. who knew a human would hug a grim reaper that was bout to take its soul away.

seonghwa grips the scythe's holder tighter. hesitate clouds his head. take her soul now seonghwa! he hovers the weapon above your body but his movements faltered when his eyes lands on your face, snoring quietly with a smile. must be having a nice dream.

FUCKING HELL SEONGHWA! he caught himself off guard and threw his scythe away as it disappeared again, back to its safe place. he walks away from you and runs his hand through his hair. frustration. confusion. denial.

he sits down on a chair that was facing you from a far. he decides to calm himself down and maybe wait a just little bit longer, then he'll take your soul. the night went on in silence as he stayed there admiring you from a far.

through the dark sky, from the same window he first laid eyes on you, dark smoke clouds behind it and slips through into the bedroom through a little gap. the smoke then swirls around the end of your bed and it thickens to form two new identical entities.

"fucking hell, look at her san!" said the first dark little figure with horns to the other one that looks just the same just a tad bit bigger.

you twist in your sleep that results in the blanket to be pushes aside, revealing your bare calves.

"wooyoung! she looks so scrumptious, don't you think?" the other one hovered over your body and points out at your exposed plump skin.

"i want to sink my teeth in and savor her…" the one named wooyoung reached out his hands and bare its teeth to you while his other companion, san, was already drooling to the thought.

"don't you two dare touch her, demons." a thundering growl elicits by the grim reaper from the darkness in the corner of the bedroom.

the two little demons shrieked and hugged each other as they were surprised by the sudden interruption of their nice meal.

"damn, seonghwa! calm down will ya. you're always cranky all the time, try smiling for once," wooyoung pulled away from san first and walks over to seonghwa but he only made a few steps before he halted as seonghwa gave him an intense glare.

"I'm a reaper, why should i be smiling you filthy thing. why do you two chose her to disturb tonight either way?" seonghwa stood beside your bed as to protect you from the harm of the two demons.

"well actually we're not here for her, we're here for you. she's just so beautiful we kinda got distracted," san was the one tho explained while wooyoung nodded, agreeing with him. seonghwa only gave a glaring look just for the same demon to further elaborate.

"her soul was supposed to collected, but in the list, its still hasn't, so we we're tasked to go check it out as it was your responsibility, seonghwa," a tight frown forms on the reaper's face. he knew this would happen. he sighs in annoyance before giving his reason.

"give me some time, i promise I'll give it soon. now go back to hell you two!" seonghwa shoos them away but they were whining not wanting to leave and stay with you.

"get the fuck out!" seonghwa opens wide the window before shoving the two outside and closes it back shut and pulls down the curtain.

he heard a soft sound from behind him, you were twisting and turning in your sleep, muttering incoherent words. he steps closer to you and heard you calling out for him, but your eyes were still shut. he lays himself down beside you and pulls you into his arms.

i shall never let anything taint your little innocent soul.

"hwa…" you mumble out his name and he shushes you back to sleep.

"I'm here, you're hwa is here."

your body felt his presence and snuggles into his chest. seonghwa pulls you in tighter and lets you rest under his protection for the entire night.

you felt bright light beaming onto your face and you were woken up by the sun shining from your window. your stretch out your limbs with a soft grunt. you felt sudden adrenaline that morning, it was the most peaceful sleep you've ever had and you wanted to tell seonghwa. you need see seonghwa. you looked all over your room, but no one was there.

"seonghwa?" you heart sinks when there was no response. did he left? but he promised…

"seonghwa!" you voice in a higher octave but cracked as you were on edge of bawling your eyes out.

"my dear, i was out to fetch some food for you," his voice erupted from the opening of the door. you jumped out of bed and ran towards him. he held the tray of a full meal higher in the air so it doesn't bump you when you abruptly wrap your arms around him.

"i thought you left,"

"well, i didn't, now sit down and eat your food, human," you happily made your way to a small table as seonghwa puts down the tray and lets you gobble them all up.

you were hugging in bed and you rest the side of your head to his chest, and you hum curiously as you let your hand wander around his chest.

"i don't have a heart sweetie," he said

"well, i do," you exclaimed and took his frail hand and place it firmly on your chest. he gasped quietly as he feels your heartbeat. the soft thumping felt so surreal to his hands. it felt so soft and beautiful. and he wanted to keep on feeling and hearing this heartbeat forever. to cherish it everyday of his immortal lifetime.

realization of his true demeanor made him snap out of the trance you put him in. he realized he should've end that beating heart of yours, not admire it.

he pushes you away from him. though, his actions never made you think negatively. you giddily grab him back and snuggles back on his chest. seonghwa was easily defeated by your innocence and he lets you get comfortable with him again. another day of spending more time you, and ignoring his true intentions.

days after days, you two spent a lot of time together, actually, the whole time. from morning to night, from dusk till dawn, from midnight to midday. every hour, every minute, every second. you enjoyed his company very much and he was getting more comfortable with you and protected you at all times behind your back without you knowing.

seonghwa sat on your bed with his legs crossed and back leans against the headboard as he listens attentively to your little rambling of the book you're currently reading.

"…and then the queen took in her late husband's mistress into becoming her new slave and they got married in the end! yayyy happily ever after to them!" you throw your hands both up in the air joyfully.

"you're so adorable, come here," seonghwa chuckles and you made your way to him before he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

the longer he stayed with you, you became very familiar of his bold and alluring scent. he smells so rich and seductive. the burst of sweet and spicy, like of coffees and vanillas which gives off a warm and also intoxicating aura.

seonghwa wraps your smaller body with his arms. you snuggle into his embrace as you leaned your back against his chest. his fingers trace undefinable patterns on the skin of your arms. you elicits soft giggle as it tickles you a bit. hearing your soft sounds, also made seonghwa giggles along with you. it tugs the heartstrings of his non existing heart.

you love little moments like this with him.

but luck was not on your side that day. the same smoke that almost haunt you in your sleep came back. though this time, it was only the the demon named wooyoung that appeared.

"yo seonghwa, its been three months. what took you so long to take…her…soul??" you gasp when you laid eyes on the horned devil. seonghwa quickly covered your eyes with his hands and you felt his chest vibrates as he growls.

"FUCKING HELL!! are you hugging…wait…why are you…no wait…have you lost your…wait WAIT…WHAT ARE EVEN YOU DOING PARK SEONGHWA?!!" the little menace widens his eyes. hands pulling the long strands of his hair. shouting. screaming. panicking. shocked? no, he was far more than that. he almost exploded with the sight in front of him.

you tried to release his hand as you wanted to have your visions back but his grip to your face became tighter.

"please leave…" you heard him sigh.

"please? did you just said please? damn, a reaper begging and said the 'P' word to a lowlife like me? that's a first. what have you become…"

"I SAID LEAVE!" the demon quickly disappeared right before the blade of seonghwa's scythe could touch him when he swung it.

the room fell in utter silence when seonghwa retracts his hand back. you looked down to your hands instead of looking to the man behind you.

"I'm sorry, i should've told the truth. that I'm-"

"a grim reaper,"

you felt seonghwa's body getting tense after hearing those words coming out from your mouth. you turned around and held his face in the palm of your hands.

"i already knew from the first time you came into my room,"

"huhh how? then…why did you-"

"you reek death, hwa," your chuckles made him giggle. let's savor this last smile of him before the last breath.

sorrow fills seonghwa's eyes. you couldn't help but feel bad for him. he pulls you closer to his chest, his face on the side of your neck, his hands placed themselves on your back, pushing you as close as he can to you. chest to chest. he felt every beat of your heart. remember and loving every thump. you wrap your arms around his neck and brush along his silky black hair.

"I'm really sorry…i should've done it sooner…i should not have grown attached to you…i-" you shush him and heard little sobs from the side of your ear.

he pulls you away and his hand cups the side of your cheek as his thumb rubs along your cheekbones. he pulls your face closer to his and place his lips onto yours. for an angel of death, his lips were soft and it tasted so sweet.

"forgive me, my little soul," he pulls away from you as his other hand grips the handle of his scythe behind you till it could almost snap in two.

"seonghwa." you trace your fingers across seonghwa's beautiful dark teary eyes for the last time.

you flash him a soft smile and gave him a last kiss on his lips. a tear rolled down seonghwa's face as he felt your last breath on his face and your body fell limp in his hold. he choked on his sobs when he no longer feel your lovely beating heart.

for a grim reaper who has no soul, he felt his non-existent heart shatter to a million pieces.

she finally said my name.

dividers

taglist: @engentiny @seonghw4ffles

network: @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yilidiz x Reader - Thick Part 4/8

+ 18

This chapter!!!

Kenan is so boyfriend and he doesn't even know it, ugh!

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

Luca's car smelled of denim and menthol. His father's vintage Cadillac ran smooth against the bumpy road. Although it was relatively easy to drive, you made the occasional jerk of the steering just to have Luca reach for the wheel, his hand momentarily caressing yours.

"You're doing good Y/N."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you just gotta get used to the rhythm of traffic."

"The rhythm of traffic." You nodded. It made sense. You were more relaxed driving at night, perhaps because there were less cars and people on the roads, meaning less chances of getting distracted or killing an innocent pedestrian. However, so far you've only driven at night once, and that was with Kenan, which does make Luca's assumption a valid theory. You have to get used to the rhythm of traffic at any hour.

"How about a break?" Luca suggested. "I have to pick some records up at the shop in town. You down?"

"Y...you want me....to come with you to the record store?"

"Sure. I mean you're the one driving anyway."

"Right. Of course." You squealed internally.

The record store was a neat little shop near the outskirts of town. It's where the cool people like Luca came to hang out. People that listened to retro music and detested the music industry as it was today.

"Hey, Luca. Come va?" (Luca, what's up?")

You felt honored walking into the music shop alongside someone like Luca. Everybody seemed to know him. Eager to greet him. Knowing how many friends Luca had outside of your little group made you wonder why he even bothered to hang out with you? You feared that once graduation happened that would change. Then again, you had the roadtrip to Bari to look forward to.

"Hey, Luca, what can I do for you?" Said the young lady tending the shop's counter. She wore ripped jeans and a tank top that matched her fiery afro. And just about every part of her face was pierced, lips, nose, ears and eyebrows.

"Armeni." Was her name. Luca said it with such grace and admiration that you couldn't help but to get jealous from their interaction.

"Do you have the new Gambino?"

"Childish Gambino?" You perked up. "

"Yeah, why?" Luca chuckled.

"I like Childish Gambino." You said, proud of the fact that you and Luca had something in common.

"I'm looking to buy the vinyl of his new record."

"Vinyl?" You frowned. "Isn't his new album out on Spotify. Why go through the hassle of buying vinyl? Do you even own a disc player?"

The silence from Luca and the girl was gut wrenching. They looked at you as if you just shouted insults, worse than anything Rihanna has said on her records.

"Vinyls are cool." The girl said, popping her gum. "Anyway...."Her eyes diverged from you to Luca. "Who is she?"

"Oh, Y/N?" Luca blushed. "She's just a friend."

The way he stammered and lost his usually cool composure lit a flame within you that wouldn't stop burning. You left the records store with Luca having gotten what he came there for. Perhaps he just wanted to see her, in the same way that you just wanted to spend time with Luca. There was no doubt about it, Luca was in love with the girl from the record store.

"Are you sure that you don't want me to drop you off at Gio's? Everyone is gonna be there."

"Thanks Luca, but my parents are probably waiting for me at home."

"Oh, okay."

Luca dropped you off at your house. You greeted Ilsa, the family chef, on your way past the kitchen and upstairs. She was getting started on dinner early, perhaps because it would only be you dining, your parents out of town again. She called you down once everything was set up and wished you a lovely evening before leaving for the day.

It was sad. You felt like crying. Luca didn't see you as more than a friend, meanwhile he was fantasizing about Armeni, the record shop bitch. And no, vinyls aren't cool. They're actually outdated and very cliche. Just like her...and Luca.

Your dinner was interrupted mid bite, as the bell to the front door rang. You were too lazy to check the security camera, opting the chances that it wouldn't be a burglar.

"Kenan?"

It was actually worse.

"Hi babe."

He stepped into your house, uninvited and with the audacity to lean in and kiss you on the mouth. "What's for dinner?" He said and proceeded to remove his shoes.

"Erm, I'm having pasta."

"Cool, did you leave some for me?"

"Erm, no? Why would I do that?"

He frowned. "Didn't you get my texts?"

"Texts, what text?" You checked your phone as you followed Kenan into the kitchen. There he made himself a plate while you went through your phone, having received numerous text messages from Kenan, the last one just from a few minutes ago.

Kenan: How's driving with Luca going? 😁

Kenan: Where is he taking you?

Kenan: Are you guys coming to Gio's or...?🤔

Kenan: Y/N, where are you, are you okay?

Kenan: Rebecca brought pizza. It's vegan though.🤮

Kenan: That's it, I'm coming to you.

You looked up from your phone. Kenan was stuffing pasta into his mouth. You looked down on your phone again, heart fluttering at his messages.

"Do you have anything to drink?" Kenan asked and you smiled. "Coke or Fanta?"

He snorted. "Coke, what else?"

You went over to the fridge. "I don't like Coca-Cola." You handed him the can.

"Well, then you don't have taste."

"I have taste." You joined Kenan by the table where your plate was already set. "I just prefer Fanta, that's all."

Kenan chuckled. "I guess you have taste."

"Thank you."

"In men, I mean."

"I doubt it." You laughed, the memories of today's visit to the record shop still burning within you.

Kenan stared at you blankly.

"What?"

"Your laughed just then, why did it change?"

Fuck. He heard it too. "No it didn't."

"It did."

"No it didn't, Kenan."

He shrugged, returning to nibble on his pasta.

"Where are your parents?" He asked, after a moment spent in silence.

"Work."

"Do they work often?"

"I guess you can say that."

"I know the feeling. "

"What feeling?" You snorted,  Kenan's parents weren't diplomats. They didn't even live with..."

"Loneliness."

You closed your mouth.

"It gets pretty lonely sometimes, doesn't it?"

You shrugged. "I'm used to it."

"Yeah me too."

"I'm glad I have you though."

"Me?" Kenan's eyes lit up.

"Not you alone." You coughed. "I mean you as in you guys, my friends."

"Oh, right. I guess that's true."

It was nice, not having to eat your dinner alone. Kenan was actually quite the company entertainment wise. One thing led to another and after playing Marco  Polo in your pool, the two of you ended up upstairs, in your bedroom.

"Is this okay, baby?" Kenan spoke against your neck, his lips caressing your skin as his hips pushed against you.

"Yes." You moaned.

"Does it feel good, what I'm doing?" His hips kept at it, pressing your pelvis further into the mattress as he dicked you down, your pussy clenching around his length.

"Yes, Kenan. I want you, harder."

"Harder?" He raised his head, sweat dripping down his forehead, his hair still wet from the pool.

"Yes, harder." You said and pulled him down to kiss you, your fingers running through his hair.

"Trust me baby, you don't want me to fuck you harder."

"No?"

"No." He smiled and licked your lips as he kissed you again.

"What, you don't think I can take it?"

"It doesn't matter if you can or can't take it." He huffed. "I rather fuck you like this, slow and soft." Kenan's hands went to your hips, pinning them to the mattress as he went down on you. He kissed your inner thigh, slow and soft, and as he got closer to your slit, causing your legs to tremble as he did, you wondered if Luca was as good of a kisser as Kenan? Probably not.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

[genderqueerdykes]

genuine question about some identities

why do you think theres so much hate for people who are afab/amab and are also trans women/men, those who are cistrans and multigender people?

ive noticed that when you tell certain queer people you'd think wouldn't be exclusionist that your gender is funky and you're trans bc of it, they begin to use your assigned sex and your biology against you because "you can't be a trans woman if you have a uterus, ur just feminine".

its the same argument as conservatives make it. why is there so much hate?

ppl don't acknowledge my individual genders but instead see how they work alongside each other. ppl don't see me as a trans woman when my gender is woman but will acknowledge me as a trans man because of my sex traits.

these are some very important questions to ask, i appreciate you for sending this ask

i honestly think more people are becoming indoctrinated into transmedicalist and gender critical thinking without realizing it, and it's becoming dangerous. people want to inherently label an afab transfem and/or an amab transmasc as liars, people who are spitting in the faces of others, and shouldn't be a part of our community. other people make assumptions about others' experiences based on their own and don't understand that there is an entire world outside of their perspective, and that world is full of experiences they have no hope of understanding, but can simply accept.

i've gotten a lot of questions about whether afab trans women and amab trans men can exist, it's definitely a hot button issue right now, and i agree with you. if you ask me, afab trans women and amab trans men deserve to have a platform to speak from. if someone genuinely believes their identity is trans no matter what their AGAB is- who the hell am i to stop them? it's important for afab trans women and amab trans men to not speak over their other siblings and try to speak for what it's like to be intersex or an amab trans woman/afab trans man. but that doesn't mean that these people can't exist- they deserve the right to talk about their experience, because it exists alongside the experiences of amab trans women and afab trans men. they're not fighting with each other, they're unique experiences that belong under the same umbrella.

at the end of the day, someone standing there being an afab trans woman, an amab trans man, or a cistrans person is not hurting anyone. the identity itself will hurt no one. ignorance about what other trans people experience is dangerous, and so is speaking over others, but these identities in and of themselves are not harming anyone. it is very possible to go "i don't understand how that works, but if that is how they identify, then i will respect that."

between people becoming indoctrinated into radical feminism and people who are proudly adopting gender critical politics, there is a schism in our communities that don't need to be there. people think they need to "weed out the fakes" in order for us to be accepted by cishet society, which is just not how any of this works. we can't cast aside the queers who are "too weird" or "not really queer" in order to try to make the rest of the community look legitimate

this community has always been here for people whose identities don't line up with the cisheteronormative binary. it doesn't matter what someone's AGAB is- i mean, isn't that the point of the trans community? are we not the "i don't give a shit about your AGAB, i want to know who you really are" community? it's become honestly scary to see how focused the queer community has become on AGAB. people are utterly obsessed with trying to figure out the AGABs of strangers in order to deny them access to queer spaces or kick them out of spaces they rightfully belong in

and it bothers me deeply that people police the identities of multigender people beyond belief. it's like having 1 trans identity is okay but if you dare to have more than one, you're not really queer or whatever. cistrans people, multigender people who are cis, trans wo/men who consider both their manhood and womanhood trans no matter what their AGAB is, transfemmasc/transmascfem people... these identities belong and yet people proudly and gladly wake up every day to do conservatives' jobs for them.

whenever you police another queer person's identity, no matter what your intention is, good, bad or something else- you are doing conservatives' jobs for them. you are not preserving our community. you are not keeping identities sacred or safe or whatever the hell. you're gladly sucking up to our oppressors and spreading their propaganda. it's disturbing how people don't realize this

thank you for taking the time to send this ask, i agree with you 100%. this behavior has gotten out of control and it's time for people to wake the fuck up and realize they've been indoctrinated into transmedicalism, radical feminism, and being gender critical. this isn't the "right" way to behave. it's antithetical to the very foundations of the queer community.

[the-final-sif]

I know you are studying law, and I just wanted to ask is there any reason why Quackity wouldn't want to deal with this union thing outside of a court room? Does he just think they're bluffing or does he just think he has enough evidence that he had no idea about the workplace environment and payment issues.

I'm actually not studying law! I keep up with a number of cases and one of my younger brothers is studying law/in the process of becoming a lawyer, but I'm not in college for it or anything. It's mostly just a personal interest and a willingness to sit down and read through case law for like 10 hours to understand why something has to happen a certain way. That and a willingness to go bother the lawyers I know to help understand things.

That aside, I honestly think that some of it is arrogance and an assumption that he's safe because he's not physically in France. Which is a very bad assumption, but he'd hardly be the first person to make it. It's very clear that he doesn't have anyone remotely competent near his company because they would've told him to avoid hiring people in the EU like a plague.

In this case, since he's clear got control over the company (ie being able to come in and change anything he wants whenever he wants), it wouldn't matter if he was aware or not, at least to my understanding.

Within US law at least, there's something called "constructive knowledge" which basically means "regardless of whether or not you actually knew about this, if you were behaving reasonably and according to your duties then you should have known about this". This means that negligence isn't an excuse, particularly when you have managerial responsibility. You can't ignore illegal shit happening and not do your job and then claim no responsibility for the outcome. You have a duty of care to employees, which includes stuff like ensuring people get paid, health and safety measures and also that you aren't employing like, minors illegally or in unsafe conditions.

If employers could just like, not ask for any details about who someone is and thus not be liable for any of their actions, they would happily do that. But they can't, you're supposed to know and keep all this information on file for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is taxes.

Speaking as someone who works at a company with international workers, it's not easy to do and you need to be careful how you do it. If you do it willy-nilly, you end up doing a lot of labor crimes. Like what happened here.

[nahoyasboyfriend]

Run from me

Warning: very vague gore at the end tried to keep that as short as possible. If you don't want to read about being chased this is not for you

Word count: 1k

Tagging: @slvt4jamesmarch

A/N: This is my first time writing anything like this so I hope it's good. Sorry if there are any errors. I tried to fix most of them, but I may have missed a few. To whoever requested this I love you so much!!!

You awake to the sound of someone knocking on the door. It's probably someone who got their room mixed up. sluggishly, you drag yourself out of bed, carefully ambling to the door. You yawn, blinking the last bit of sleep from your eyes. You don't bother to grab your phone. You plan to go back to bed anyway. It's still dark outside, and your alarm hasn't gone off.

You open the door and there's a man standing before you. He dressed like he was ripped fresh out of the 1920s. His hair slicked down, and he had a thin mustache. Your eyes scan over his outfit, a pin striped suit with an ascot around his neck, and a bowler hat to top it all off. He donned a charming smile, and you brush off the unease that settles in your stomach.

"I think you have the wrong room," you state plainly. All you wanted to do was go back to bed, and sleep the weirdness of this encounter away.

"No, I don't believe I do. if I recall correctly, this is room 74." he says, his inky black eyes never leaving your own.

Sighing, you lightly shake your head, taking a step closer to him, "this is the room they gave me, so there must be a mix up. I can even show you the key they gave me. It has the room number."

You turn around, and you're yanked into the firmness of his chest. Before you can even think of screaming, his big hand clamps over your mouth. "when I let go, I want you to run," he purred, voice molasses-smooth, and you shudder from the feeling of his breath against your ear. You don't make a noise, afraid it'll make everything more real. "And if you make it to the lobby, you get to live."

You think, for a brief moment, if you pray hard enough you'll wake up in your bed, and this will just be a horrible nightmare, but it isn't. It's very much real, and when his bruising grip is finally released you realize the only thing you can do is run like he requested.

And that's exactly what you do, you dart off, hoping that if you're fast enough you'll be able to make it out of here alive. You glance behind you, expecting him to be right on your tail chasing behind you. Strangely, he isn't. You see him back where you left him, taking his time. His gait is steady and slow. He's playing with you and that thought alone makes you sick.

The idea sends a wave of determination through you. You can't let it end here in an old shitty hotel. You duck a corner, and you're met with more rooms with no end in sight. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes, blurring your vision. You scream out, and your lungs ache from the exertion. You feel aimless in a way, unsure of where you are going. You don't know where any of the exits were located, or if there even are any. You wonder if this is pointless; if all roads lead to your inevitable doom.

Though the assumption of what he'll do to you if he catches you pushes you on. Being tortured didn't sound like the way you wanted to go, but not dying at all would be the preferred option. You could hear him humming behind you, a faint sound. Something you wouldn't have noticed if you didn't focus. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, and you're sure if it wasn't you would have collapsed by now.

The halls of the hotel slowly start bleeding together the more corners you turn. Every hall looks identical to another, so much so you start to wonder if you're going in circles. You slowly begin to believe that this wasn't a hotel at all, and more like a labyrinth. A place designed to swallow helpless people like yourself whole. Losing hope, you scream louder, begging for anyone to save you. You weren't the most religious, but you found yourself wishing that somehow god would save you.

The man lets out a deafening laugh, muttering something you couldn't catch. He sounded closer than before. More tears rolled down your face, your eyes flitting around searching for another person. Goddamnit, does anyone work here?

The sound of his footsteps got quicker and louder. The sound was maddening. You couldn't tell if he was right behind you, and you were too frightened to check. The exhaustion was slowly starting to catch up with you. Your feet felt like rocks, every step taking more effort than the last. Your skin is covered in goosebumps from the chill of the hotel. The flimsy nightgown you have on doing nothing to shield you from the bite of the air conditioner.

You can barely force enough air into your lungs, each sharp breath sending a rush of pain through you. You could see another corner coming up. You could only pray that you'd finally reached an exit. That maybe your key to freedom was right in front of you. You quickly discovered It wasn't. When you reach the corner, a flood of dread is washed over you. A dead end. You let out a broken sob, stumbling down the hall. The sound of his mellow hum, creeping closer and closer.

As you staggered down the hall the only thing that ran through your head was: why? Why was he doing this to you? Why couldn't it be someone else? Why is life so cruel?

When you reach the end of the hallway, you just stand there for a moment, silently listening to him walk to you. When he's within your reach you whip around, wildly swinging your arms to hit him. He catches one of your hands, but the other lands a clean strike on his jaw. You freeze for a moment, uncertain of what to do next. He regains composure almost immediately, squeezing your wrists in a tight fist.

"you did good, dear. very good," he croons and thrusts your body against the wall and you groan out in pain. You feel a searing pain in your stomach, and you hesitantly look down to see his knife buried to hilt in your stomach. You try to scream but only a wet gurgle comes out. He twists the knife for extra measure before pulling the blade out of you. You slump forward, your consciousness slipping through your fingers like sand. Right before you lose your last bit of consciousness you hear him add, "unfortunately not good enough."

[anti-katsuki-lounge]

Honestly, they're a UA thing. Like sure they're caused by OfA, but it's UA's job to teach him to handle his powers and they just... don't. Like we are told that it's illegal to use your quirk in public without a license so UA should be way way better prepared to teach kids to use their quirks (Also that makes Aizawa wanting to kick someone out for not being able to control his quirk really messed up. Like teaching him that is literally your job, his quirk breaks his bones and is insanely destructive, where exactly was he supposed to learn how to control that as a little kid?) Yet basically every time Izuku has a breakthrough with getting a handle on his quirk, it's by someone outside of UA. Like his teacher is a guy who can shut off quirks! In any other situation I would have assumed he was placed with Aizawa specifically so he could get help getting his quirk under control. Like "Hey maybe you should use your quirk throughout your entire body not just one point" feels like a day one discovery if you're a decent teacher and bother to actually learn about your students, but maybe that's just me.

Honestly even if you got rid of Izuku getting OfA and turned it into the quirk he was born with it really wouldn't change much. Either he'd still have to worry about it killing him if he used it too much, which means he might be advised to wait until he's older to start getting a handle on it, maybe even with the implicit assumption that UA would be the best place to get that training, or he wants to train it, but can't because there's no where he can safely train such a destructive quirk without breaking the law.

Which actually brings up a point, all the UA kids have clearly gotten a lot of practice with their quirks. And you know what that's fine to a degree, even if it shows the laws around quirk use are incredibly flawed. Like Kirishima and Momo have quirks it's easy to work on at home, Todoroki and Iida are hero families so they have the necessary resources, but where the hell did Bakugou train? Like you don't get that good without a lot of practice, especially when he's so utterly unhesitating on using his quirk on people. Though we can guess where he got the practice on using his quirks on humans. Did no one look at the explosion kid and be like "hey, where exactly did he learn to do all that?" or the kid who can flick glacier into nothing and go "hey kid, go on you for following the law, but now let's get you some extra help getting that ridiculously powerful and dangerous to self and others quirk under control." Shouldn't one of the first questions UA had be "so which of you had to very clearly break the law in order to get this good with your quirk?

All of this. You also point out a reason I struggle with believing Katsuki's some sort of prodigy. We don't see him training and the only source of combat we see him engage in is fights against those who can't defend themselves. There's no way he should be even close to the level of someone like Shoto who has trained.

But yeah, this paragraph does a great job at highlighting what is wrong with Shota, and U.A as a whole and even some of Hori's worldbuilding.

[prettyboykatsuki]

sae has weirdly been my fav blorbo for a long time but when considering his type I've come to realise that he probably wouldn't be into nerdy or not conventionally pretty girls. + I don't think that sae is the type to commit at all like. he's just there to fuck around and then leave and if anything the fb trope would be more fitting for his character (imo). and everytime I read fluff about him it's just so ooc to me I can't help it 😭 I mean he does have a lot of toxic traits and could be considered 'a horrible person' but yea idk you always have this deep analysis of characters I was wonder what you'd think about sae and this topic specifically haha hope I didn't bother

i disagree with this characterization of him for a lot of reason

i don't pay a lot of attention to what the fanon interpretation of sae is and im sure this aligns with his image but i dont personally think that this assessment of his character makes a lot of sense. i do understand where it comes from though !!!

i believe that a lot of this miscommunication of his characterization stems from his relationship to rin, but i've broken that down as to why i don't think sae hates rin. in fact in his own way i think he views his own harsh behavior as a way to shield rin from reality (though it had the opposite of his intended affect) i also don't believe that sae is a vapid or shallow player off-field, and that's largely in contrast to his personality before he left for spain and after.

sae is always viewed to be cold, blunt, and serious but he is also deeply affectionate of rin in their adolescence. his major change happens while we're overseas and while we don't know yet what happened specifically - it's clear to me that something borderline traumatic happened. this type of change of character through rigorous training happens to kunigami through the wildcard system and this type of betrayal that leads to betterment is a theme in bluelock as well (i.e. nagireo)

im of the belief that saes arrogance and crass way of speaking developed largely as a defense mechanism as his goal of being a striker was shattered through playing in spain. in the same way kunigami views being a "hero" through soccer as a stupid ideal post wildcard.

sae is a normal guy outside of soccer. he even says that one of his major flaws is that he's pretty clueless about everything other than soccer. his least favorite food is fries, not because he hates the taste but because he can't have them because of his nutrition restrictions. his 'fetish' is ass because he thinks it can show what kind of an athlete someone is. all somewhat silly and ultimately regular things

all that being said - i don't think sae is a shallow person. i think he thinks very deeply and logically about a lot of things and he is indefinitely arrogant, but not shallow which is why i think it wouldn't make sense for him to judge on appearance. it'd be more accurate to assume that he's sort of dense and doesn't pay attention to people who aren't in his immediate circle. the assumption that he would make judgements on your appearance if you're just a regular joe-schmo doesn't quite connect to me. he's not insecure enough to do that.

on the issue of commitment - my only opinion is that sae is a character who values independence of sense of individualism in his partners. anyone with a strong sense of self is someone he is drawn to. this is why he likes isagi and shidou and often reprimands rin because he lacks a sense of selfhood and self confidence. rin only realizes that post the u20 match.

my point being that i think sae can and will commit to somebody but there's a lot more factors for a character like him that others like isagi or chigiri or kunigami who are naturally emotionally in tune with you.

sae isn't and will never be a 'romantic' person in the traditional sense to me but i don't think it means he's incapable of love or commitment. he has a hard time communicating verbally and saying things to your face but he remembers everything you said from your last conversation and pay attention to your hobbies. if you argue, you'll always find a vase of flowers in your kitchen with a note but you always have to call first. he's not Good about the emotional aspect because even if he puts in a lot of effort - it's never going to come naturally to him

BUT that also means if you're able to meet him half-way he's a committed and decent lover to you. he tries really hard to be and it takes some patience because he's sometimes too logical and hurts your feelings but he's there where it matters etc.

this is an essay SORRY KFDHJKSD. ive spent a lot of time thinking about him and giving him depth. and im not defending him necessarily because he is a massive douchebag for a lot of your early relationship. just not for shallow or petty reasons. simply bad at coping with his emotions and expressing himself because he's very prideful

[fafnirsden]

THE p4 Twitter discourse is making the rounds again (you know the one) and one of the things that keep bothering me about how this is talked about is that there seems to be a disconnect between people taking the writer's intent at face value and people who disregard the intended arc entirely? This might sound odd but esp regarding Naoto gender discourse the fallback line seems to be that Naoto ultimately identifies as a girl and that's fine and good for real people but gives Naoto a degree of agency that she does not have because she's a fictional character. The thing that people are criticising is the writing decision real people made to conclude her arc that way, not Naoto's self identification - Naoto can't identify as anything, she has no thoughts outside of those given to her by the writers. And on the flipside, criticising Naoto's arc for the (likely unintended) transphobic implication lets it off the hook for also mishandling the workplace sexism angle they were actually going for (cont below cut)

If you take the game at its word for what each of the character arcs are supposed to be about, then the game has a whole character who is forced to take on a more masculine persona (pun not intended) to be taken seriously because of sexism but this is all in a game that continuously does sexist pervy comedy routines. Including to Naoto! If you're trying to make a point about how sexism is bad, maybe don't force the character in question into a swimsuit beauty pageant where she feels humiliated and uncomfortable as a joke?

Maybe Kanji isn't attracted to men and people shouldn't make assumptions about his sexuality because of his interests. Okay. Good point, you shouldn't do that. But what's the implication here when you look at moments like the camping trip tent scene where Yosuke treats him like a sexual predator for just being in the same tent (while Yosuke himself actually creeps on the girls during the same trip, which is just taken as funny despite being actual sexual harassment. Amazing stuff.)? There's multiple scenes like this, it happens during the pick up contest too where it's part of the comedy of uncomfortable situations that happen to Yosuke that Kanji starts blushing from being pressed up to him on the scooter. Like this is all still homophobic even if Kanji is straight and "hey don't assume people are gay based on stereotypes they might not be and then it would be bad if you put them in a box like that" is a good point in theory but not when you're also kinda implying that gay men are a danger to other men or that treating them as such is just an understandable funny reaction.

As much of a deal as people make about the cut Yosuke romance, him being closeted wouldn't fix how vile he is to his friends without consequences. It maybe explains it a little but that still means you're left with a game that constantly disregards sexual harassment as just a goofy thing your silly fun guy friends do.

If it wasn't clear I'm ultimately more sympathetic to people critical of p4's writing about gender and sexuality (and I didn't even talk about the fat girl. christ.) but I also don't think it's helpful to superimpose a more progressive version of the game where every character is actually queer and then critique the game for not delivering on that version. You can headcanon whatever you want ofc (Naoto's canon gender is such a mess you could tell me anything about what you think their gender is and I'd probably nod along) but I think it muddies the water on discussing the actual text when you loose track of the distinction here. And like. I get it p4 has a lot of stuff to like. I'm still fond of p4 in spite of all of this. But how depressing for actual queer media to see how much time people spend on inventing a gayer version of p4.

Especially when the actual solution is obviously to shoot Yosuke into the sun /j

[janusflipped]

"I have a message from your father." - for the drabbles.

OOPS! ALL ANGST! PROMPTS Not verse 1... or 2...but a secret 3rd verse...

There was a soft knock at his office door, Two-Face didn't bother looking up from his work and waved a hand, signaling for one of his men to open the door. There was a soft grunt as Spice got up and opened the door.

"Hello, Harvey." It was Oswald, the man gently cleared his throat, a polite way to ask for the other to look up. He didn't, Oswald sighed, "I have a message from your father." He looked up and his eyebrow raised, face curious and now mixed with irritation.

"Sugar...Spice, leave." Both got up and quickly exited the room, promptly posting themselves outside the doors of the office. "Why's that deadbeat talking to you?" He looked back down at his paperwork, the pen scratching away again. Oswald huffed slightly and sat down in one of the chairs in front of the desk, setting his briefcase down and his umbrella.

"I couldn't fully tell you. However, I do, have a letter as well. If you're interested in reading it." Oswald held up a letter, it was unopened. "He said "Can you give this to my...Son. He hasn't responded to any of the Letters I sent, I don't have his phone number either." That's all he said."

"I wouldn't give anyone I hate my number." He heard Oswald chuckle. "We do business together, and I hate you less now." He watched the letter enter his line of sight as Oswald slid it over his paperwork. He looked up. "What do you want me to read it right now?" Oswald nodded his head. He sighed and sat up. He sat up and took out his letter opener and opened it. He took out the letter and read it, scoffing occasionally, and then gradually getting angrier. It took all his self-control to not rip it to shreds by the time he reached the end. "This is full of crap." He crumpled it up and threw it into the trashcan missing.

"...Does it have to do with..." He stopped talking as he got a glare shot in his direction. "...Care to talk? We've been friends for a long time now, I know you well enough that this won't leave your mind unless you say something." Oswald was right. He'd stay angry, but it was usually hard to broach a topic such as this.

"He wants me to visit him. So we can be a "family" again. Or "try" to be one. Quite frankly that's fucking impossible... I should kill him."

"That's a horrible idea. However, I won't stop you." He sighed pinching the bridge of his nose then leaning over to pick up the crumpled piece of paper. Two-Face making no effort to stop him. Though he could feel the man's stare follow his movements. "Is what he said really that horrible?" It wasn't a secret that Harvey had a horrible relationship with his father, Harvey often didn't elaborate or offer details of why. He could only make vague assumptions based on passing snide comments or remarks. He hummed as he uncrumpled the paper and read it. There wasn't anything particularly bad, a lot of fluff language was used, and it was manipulative sounding. Harvey was in his 40s... early 40s but it seemed like the man had nothing left and needed care. His only option was his estranged son "I take it that your response wi-"

"Two-Bullets. That'll be his end-of-life care." He took out a gun and loaded it. Oswald let out a hum, no further response beyond that.

[ask-codeearasure]

I have a few ideas with this character cause he is... there are reasons why I don't like Nightmare at all and one of the biggest reasons is because in the original Dreamtale, he's not supposed to be his own individual, in Joku's words, yet people have seemed to take that notion, at worst, as a personal offense.

Which is fine, but this challenges me to keep thinking on the fact that if I want to write canon Nightmare in a way that's FUN to me, I'm going to have to think outside the box with this information in mind.

If he's not supposed to be a person, what are some things I can do to make this more interesting? Because maybe he wants to be a person, or at least create his own identity where he can be mistaken as one. Or perhaps he is a person but he denies himself that "privilege". I wouldn't say it's out of guilt, again I'm thinking about original Noot Noot here. Maybe it could be a product of this twisted form of grandeur, that being a person and agonizing over identity is a waste of time and he takes pride in what he is.

Or perhaps, he considers his very being to be greater than that of "people", so why bother to care on how puny mortals and enemies define him? He is above them, after all. It's not like they'd understand what he is if he bothered to explain.

Canon Nightmare could be such an interesting villain if people bothered to explore him outside of "Joku made him evil and one-dimensional", because how are you so sure that she actually meant that? Did she ever say this directly, or did you assume because of the language barrier, deleted media, or because of her limited activity on Tumblr? Cause whatever way that is, there's always ths chance you're wrong. In a way, you (the fandom, not OP specifically) are doing the same thing to canon Nightmare as you have done to canon Dream for the past eight years. You are reducing his frame of character based only on what you see on the surface, also making assumptions based on your dislike of a woman you don't even know, which is...? Genuinely, that's a stupid thing to do. You don't have to like her. I don't either, I think she's a freak. But why are you giving your dislike of her so much power that by extension, you are degrading the value of a work that you enjoy despite its creator?

Just think about that for a moment. In fact, you don't have to think about Joku at all. The only person you can control is yourself, so stop wasting that in favor of a stranger. It's a waste of time and energy you could dedicate to something you'd find worthwhile. Something that makes you happy.

But anyways, I got ahead of myself. Back to Nightmare.

I vaguely recall Joku making a post about Nightmare that made him the slightest bit interesting to me, and I'm sure the post is taken down by now so all you have is my word. I apologize for that inconvenience. (If not, I'll find the picture when I get home and link it in a reblog)

It showed corrupted Nightmare existing as Nightmare does, but also green text yelling at him as another presence in his mind. My theory is this dark green text was Nim. So Nim and the man who murdered her are piloting the real Nightmare's corpse together. Or perhaps not; maybe the unnamed man is in primary control but some enraged element of Nim is there anyways. She might not consciously be there because in all accounts, she should be dead.

This concept, if I was interpreting it right, insinuates that Nightmare might be multiple people in one instead of a murderer we don't know the true quality of character of. And in Dreamtale, it's actually Nim who hates mortals more than anything else. It's Nim who was a great factor in the events leading up to the Apple Incident. Nim was also killed by an equally as vindictive man and now they're stuck together in a sick, twisted fashion.

Corrupted Nightmare is the personification of the wickedness of these two individuals. In a way, Dream isn't only fighting his brother's murderer, but their mother as well.

Is this not interesting? Is this not tragic? If this ain't your cup of tea, that's fine, but you gotta admit this kind of feature in a character/construct is bound to raise eyebrows. And perhaps, if you're the type who enjoys physical and/or psychological horror, you could take full advantage of this in Nightmare. I don't see nearly enough genuinely scary shit featuring him anyway.

Nightmare could be a completely eldritch character if this concept was stretched far enough, but I never see anyone do that.

Just some thoughts I wanted to introduce to the conversation. This is nothing against other ideas and you just doing your own thing, I'm just throwing ideas out there.

-- Sarco

I generally have no problem if a writer wants to write Nightmare as someone who cares about others. Its okay. You should write for yourself, and its up to others if they like it or not.

But I'd rather see Nightmare struggle with his own nature in the process. Learning to be better must be a difficult path for him, and I've said before that his "wanting" would not be healthy because of what Nightmare embodies. He can't help but hurt others in his loving ways. And that's much more entertaining to read. How the others react to this attempt and how this could change their dynamic? Would this draw them all closer to each other? I'd dying to see it!

My problem with canon Nightmare is that while the concept is amazing, the execution is not of my liking, the creator said Nightmare is not a person like Dream, he is a THING that acts by nature.

And i have this in mind all the time because you can yet make him move and act conditioned by his nature and do a lot of more of the character by just being "oooh ohh he is so mean!!" Give him an identity to start with maybe? Give him motivations besides his survive? Yeah.

[depravity-n-savagery]

『 Kiss, Marry, Kill 』 Part 2

Part 1

♡ Pairing: Billy Hargrove x (fem)Reader

♡ Summary: After that first night of hanging out with Billy (and first kiss), the two of you go on your first date. Chock-full of sugary sweet fluff.

♡ CW: FLUFF, loads of sexual tension, making out, song lyrics, emotions, small mention of Neil, struggling with trauma

🛑 18+ MINORS DNI 🛑

♡ Word Count: 3k

♡ A/N: It's been a long work in progress, haha but I needed this fluff today so here we are. 😌 Got me falling in love. ♡

"Keep pacing like that, and you're gonna wear down the carpet." 

Max was seated on your bed, legs folded with a comic book in her lap. You envied how carefree she was at that moment. Her and Lucas had made up again after their last breakup. If you could even call it that. It's one of the things you loved about her. She'd never be desperate for a guy's attention. 

You, on the other hand, were falling apart. 

After the sleepover, you haven't heard much from Billy. It twisted you up inside. Sure, you both had a moment. You shared a kiss. That magical, sweet kiss. It seems like a dream when you look back on it. Rose tinted hues coloring your cheeks and casting an alluring glow over Billy's sculpted chest. It was a romance novel in the flesh. A story for the ages. One that ended before it truly started. 

"It's Thursday…" You said, finally halting the back and forth line you walked across your bedroom. "He hasn't called or said anything about our date tomorrow. Maybe he didn't really mean it." 

"I don't believe that." The comic in Max's lap was set aside so she could shift and sit upright. Now fully tuned in to the conversation. "He's been different since that night. Not… I dunno, as much of an asshole. When I told him I was coming over here, he almost said something but he stopped. Just told me to call if I was gonna be out past curfew." 

So he wouldn't even drive her here… The thoughts branched off into jagged worries and assumptions. Still, you refused to fully believe that it was all fake. That you were played. Something in those eyes reached out to you that night. Even if it was just for a little while, he let his guard down. It was genuine. 

Repetitive pounding on the front door caught you both off-guard. The sound was urgent and loud enough to send ripples through the glass of lemonade on your nightstand. "Stay here." You told Max, already on your way out to the stairs. Heart leaping into your throat. Was it him? Did something happen to him again? The mysterious cuts and bruises from that night forced their way into the forefront of your memory. 

When you swung the door open you were visibly disappointed. There was no Camaro in sight. No tight jeans or a bleeding lip. Just Steve Harrington, scratching the back of his fluffed head of hair. He gave you a nervous smile when he saw your reaction. "Not who you were expecting, huh?" 

The answer was obvious, so you didn't bother speaking it. Besides, you didn't want it to be that obvious how much you were freaking out. Words made it official. Undeniable. So you crossed your arms and changed the subject. "What brings King Steve to my door on a Thursday afternoon?" 

"Well, my arm got twisted. Literally." His hand dug into his pants pocket, fishing around and coming up with a crumpled twenty dollar bill. When the realization hit, you were so giddy you almost forgot to take it from him, but you did. Stuffing it into your bra for the time being. "That uh, came with a message too. He said 'Lovers Lake at 7 o'clock.' Don't know what that means but-" 

"I do! Thanks for payin' up, Steve." You flashed him a big smile before going to close the door. "Guess you don't have to die after all." 

"I WHAT?!" 

His questioning was muffled outside the house, followed by another knock until you heard the sounds of his car pulling off. Your attention was already elsewhere. The date was on! The storm clouds pulled away and the sunshine was back in your eyes. Max looked at you as if an entirely different person walked in through that bedroom door. Skipping over to the bed with a little pep in your step. 

"It was Steve. He had a message from Billy, and I need your help picking out an outfit." 

Max whipped her head in the direction of your window, scanning the empty sidewalk for something. Or someone. "Wait, Steve was here?" 

You snapped your fingers, trying to bring her back to the matter at hand. "Earth to Max! He already left, and Billy set up the date for tomorrow! I need something to wear!" 

This had to be perfect. The relief and excitement felt too good for it not to be. 

Friday, 6:50pm

Your leg bounced anxiously in the passenger's seat, flipping out your palm-sized mirror once again to check your hair. A low grumble came from the seat beside you. "You've checked yourself about 6 times already. You look great! Stop worrying." 

Steve was dropping you off, driving waaaayy slower than you wanted him to. He was coming in handy left and right today. You were thankful, yes, but Billy would've had you guys there 15 mins ago. That familiar rumble of his Camaro brought you butterflies whenever you heard it. Heh, what a speed demon. Maybe he could take you for a drive after all this. 

The faint sound of music in the distance had you squealing. You could've swore Steve tried to hide a smile, watching you get so excited. The car came to a stop in the grass, just a short walk away from the lake. Of course, not wanting to drive his precious baby any further into the dirt than he has to. The sunset bathed the water in a gorgeous blend of orange and red, with faint tints of blue in the distance. The view alone made you gasp. 

"Have fun, kiddos." Steve said with a grin as you practically jumped out of the car. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do." 

"Is there anything you wouldn't do, Steve?" 

"Anything or anyone?" He drove off with a laugh, leaving you to walk the five or so feet to Billy's parked Camaro. 

Goddamn, this man knew how to dress. It's like his skin drank up the last few rays of sunlight, and reflected them back at you. The summers here didn't burn the same as they probably did in California, but he brought the Cali sun here with him. Kept it in his chest, which he currently had on display. A short sleeved black shirt that was hardly even buttoned, just tucked into his tight jeans. A cigarette loosely hanging from his lips, burning as he inhaled and leaned against the hood of his car. The music probably drowned out the sound of Steve's car pulling up and driving away. 

The grass and branches crunched under your shoes with each step, getting closer and closer until he finally noticed you approaching. He actually smiled. If you could've sprouted wings, you would be taking flight right now. Weightless and fluttery the second your eyes met. Did his heart leap like this too? 

"Right on time, Y/n. If only you were this punctual in school." His smile turned devilish, flicking the cigarette down and stomping it out. 

Without a second thought, you propelled yourself forward into his chest. Wrapping him in an embrace that made you exhale. Billy, on the other hand, became stone. 

Shit. Shit! That was probably too forward. I mean, we only hung out ONCE. Sure, we kissed, but like- 

You were ready to recoil and apologize for probably ruining the entire mood, head hung low. Stupid… But he came alive again. Snaking his arms around you cautiously, pulling you into him. Not too tight, but enough for you to feel enveloped in his warmth. To feel his heartbeat. It felt safe. Unusual for him, but welcome. The longer you held him, the more he seemed to relax into it. Even releasing an exhale of his own. 

He shook you both with a titter, linking his fingers together at the base of your spine. "Is this your way of tryin' to get me to put out on the first date?" 

"Not exactly." You freed one of your hands, dipping it into your small handheld bag. A crinkling sound drew his attention as you held up a plastic baggie, stuffed with some of your home-baked cookies. "But this might be."

His tongue swiped across his bottom lip, probably remembering the taste of them. He took the rest of the batch home with him the day he left your house, and you were willing to bet he'd been craving them ever since. Selfishly, you just wanted to watch the look on his face when he ate them. Hear the sounds he'd make. 

"Somethin' tells me I'm gonna have to work out extra, if I keep you around." His hands lingered at your backside, reluctant to let you out of his grasp. Sadly, the rest of the surprise required the both of you getting into his car. So he let you go and rushed to pop open the passenger's side door for you. In his head, he tried to rationalize it as simply doing what guys just do during dates. Pick the place, open doors, and… bring them something. Totally not a romantic gesture, right? In the movies it was always flowers or some kind of jewelry. Not his type of thing. Instead, he went with something more personal. 

You made yourself comfortable in the seat, closing the door as you got settled in. There was still a bit of heat from the sun clinging to the material. It made you wince. "Sorry 'bout that." He said, sitting in the driver seat. "Guess I'm just used to it by now." 

"I can imagine." The past few days of absence felt like they were nothing more than an hour or so. That comfortable warmth was back. Only this time, the girls weren't around to keep things 'safe'. To keep that soft distance. "So do you want the goods now?" 

His eyes lit up like you just offered him a free ticket to see Scorpions live. "Even better, I'll trade you." Billy twisted himself to reach into the backseat, retrieving a bag slightly bigger than your baggie full of baked  treats. There was no label or logo on it. No hint to what might be inside (Billy probably did that on purpose). "Deal?"

"Deal!" 

The trade-off was quick, and far from smooth. Billy's bag was launched at you, freeing his hands so he could go for the goody bag. It smacked into your face with a soft thud, then fell into your lap. Whatever it was didn't have much weight at all. Your fingers were shaking, overflowing with excitement as you peeled the bag open and peeked inside. 

"Oh…my…GOSH!!" 

The bag was tipped upside down, dumping your newfound treasure out of the bag so you could examine it fully. You already saw a glimpse of the image when you looked into the bag, but you wanted to be sure. It was exactly what you thought. A 'Nightmare on Elm Street' apron. How in the hell do you even find something like this?! A high pitched squeal rose out of you like a tea kettle as you held it up. "I love it!! Where'd you even find this?" 

"I know some people." Pride was oozing out of him. Manifesting itself in a confident, sexy smile. It was a shot in the dark, since he went off of your impressive horror movie collection. The Shining, Friday The 13th, Poltergeist, Children of The Corn…the tapes were stacked pretty high. What stuck out the most was Nightmare on Elm Street. The VHS cover was obviously handled frequently. The corners even looked chewed, as if you gnawed on it while you watched. Engrossed in the hair-raising fictional narrative. He only caught one glimpse of it, but clearly it was something you took a big interest in. No cheap bouquet of flowers or flimsy chain would have brought this much light to your features. 

"Well now my gift seems kinda silly." 

"They go hand in hand." His words were slightly muffled by a mouthful of sugary cookie and melted chocolate. His jaw flexed and moved as he chewed, pulling your attention to his jawline and bare neck. A fresh canvas you wanted to color with deep reds and purples. After swallowing down the first bite of his treat, he went on. "You need this to make more of these, right?" He gestured with the cookie, trying to make his point without dropping any crumbs on his precious seats. 

"Yeah, heh, I guess you're right." 

You were only halfway paying attention to the actual words coming out of his mouth. The majority of your attention was on his lips. The natural red tint, and the memory of how they felt against yours. Most of all, the one stubborn crumb that was clinging to his bottom lip. Begging for you to do exactly what you ended up doing. Brushing your thumb across the surface, and then bringing that thumb to your own mouth. Tasting the remnants of sweetness.

The foundation of Billy's resolve was crumbling. Collapsing under the heavy need to just do. Scratch that itch, and go for it. Flirting and fucking was nothing new to him. It was a game he almost had no difficulty winning on a regular basis. This was a different game altogether. With higher stakes. A bigger challenge. The reward? Well… the thought of that ring was terrifying, but not off-putting. 

So he took a chance and said 'fuck it'. Chasing after the contact that left his lips feeling cold and unoccupied. Swallowing your surprised gasp at the sudden movement, until you were moving right along with him. Waves crashing on your shore, and you molded under his touch like wet sand. Immediately giving him access when his tongue slipped fluidly between your lips. Your fingers closed tightly around the collar of his shirt, pulling him in as close as he could get. He wasn't getting away from you this time. 

Deeper, falling into the heat rising in his chest. He wanted to lift you over the obstruction between you two and into his lap. To grind up into you so closely he could feel your heartbeat through the soft fleshy junction between your thighs. Sink his teeth into your shoulder and groan desperately into your skin because he's aching to fill you with every throbbing inch of his cock. 

"Billy…" You carry his name on a whisper, catching your breath. "Do you…-" 

The sounds of Foreigner on the radio  snuck through the beat of silence. Slicing through the stifling physical tension. It was so cliché it made both of you laugh a bit. 

I wanna know what love is

I want you to show me

I wanna feel what love is

I know you can show me (hey)

"Dance with me." The request came out with a smile, surprising yourself when you thought of it. You were pulling the latch on the door before he could even give you his reply. "Come on!" 

Reluctantly, he got out with you but stayed close to his side of the vehicle. "I'm way too stiff for this." He meant that in more ways than one. Trying to subtly adjust himself while his lower half was hidden from view. "But if you wanna put on a show, I won't stop you." 

"Bull. I've seen you on the court." You made your way closer to him, swaying your hips along to the music playing through the car's windows. "You've got moves." 

How many rules did he plan on breaking tonight? There was nobody else here to snicker at him, or give him shit for it. Nobody would see it. You would see it. For all he knows, you could switch up on him. See behind his walls and tell the town what a bitch the 'big bad Billy' really is. 

"You're just like your fucking mother, I swear! You already dress like her. You a little bitch like her too? Crying like I hurt you that bad. Man up!!" 

Those weren't her words.. they were his. Neil wasn't the one holding his hand out, waiting for just the barest hint of intimacy. Billy allowed himself to lock eyes with you, catching how the stars sparkled in their reflection. If he soaked up the sun, then you soaked up the moon. Calling him closer step by step, till he was pressed against you. Hand in hand in front of his Camaro. 

I wanna know what love is

(Love that you feel inside)

I want you to show me

(I'm feeling so much love)

I wanna feel what love is

(And you know, you just can't hide)

I know you can show me

Your arms rested over his shoulders, locking your fingers at the back of his neck. He wrapped his arms around you, letting his hands join once again at the base of your spine (it was slowly becoming his favorite way to hold you). The music led you both in a slow sway, barely a two step, but enough to feel just right. No effort needed on either part. Billy was impressively smooth, stirring your hips on occasion when the music swept him up, then stopping the second he realized what he was doing. Not quite ready to be that exposed. You didn't call him on it, but you definitely planned on bringing that out another time. On slowly but surely, bringing him out. The pieces he tucked away. 

As you went to say something, you felt his index finger curl under your chin. Tilting you up into another kiss. He couldn't think of the words to explain the feelings he was currently swimming in. It almost hurt, how good it felt. Like stitches sewing and closing his open wounds. Stealing the breath right out of him, so his response was to borrow some of yours. Hoping on some kind of wavelength, you would understand. 

You did. And you gave it right back to him. A silent exchange that rang loud and clear between the two of you. After tonight, this thing you had going was more than just a one-off. More than a distraction. 

It was impossible to deny it now. You were falling. Falling fast. And Billy was more than willing to catch you.

♡ A/N: I'm a hopeless romantic, if you can't tell haha. I'm most likely not gonna write a part 3, because I actually have an idea for a fic series based kind of around this. But I hope you enjoyed this! Part 1 really blew up, and I'm happy so many people love Billy fluff as much as I do. ♡ Reblogs and feedback are always appreciated. ~

Masterlist, Ao3

Taglist: @smutlandia @henrycavillsslut @iamwarrenspeace @honeycovered-bandaids @thisispurpleyam

[astra-nomy]

ASTRA'S BEST ADVICE: another long post (summary at the bottom)

To start off: doubts only hold whatever power you give them. I know I've said this a million times, but it's true. You hold all the cards here. All the power comes from you, and you can pick and choose which thought to give power to and which ones you don't. Yes, that requires some self control. Don't allow yourself to indulge in "What Ifs" and doubts. If they arise, simply acknowledge them, maybe even thank them for trying to protect you (I do this a lot when I notice I'm being too harsh with myself), and part ways with them. They do not serve you. They are powerless. Like I always say, treat them as itty bitty flies and swat them away. They are irritating, but insignificant.

You believe in yourself more than you think. When I was a year deep into my shifting journey, I used to say "oh I have a test tomorrow, so I'm not going to try to shift" and then I was like babe, clearly part of you believes you can shift because you're saying stuff like that? It took many instances of things like this to realize that it's not that I don't believe in shifting, it's that I'm unsure of my ability to do it. Even so, a little part of me believes I can, and that is enough to keep me going. Realize that you believe in yourself, probably more than you think. You wouldn't be bothering to read this post unless you thought you had a chance of success.

But even so, you don't have to believe 100% to be successful.

Go out on a limb. This is something I do when the doubts are just buzzing around my head and I feel like they're holding me back. I take a deep breathe and say to myself, "From this point on, I am acting as though I have no doubts because they cannot hold me back." or some variation of that. Basically I say that and then proceed to operate as though I know I will shift or I know I will wake up with my desires because I just set my doubts aside for a bit. They're still there, but I'm basically just ignoring them and acknowledging that they don't have any power unless I give them power. There is absolutely no harm in putting aside doubts for a bit, and it can be extremely helpful.

Don't scour Tumblr. If you're overcomplicating the law, chances are you're scouring Tumblr, looking for every little tip and trick you can find hoping to find that magical bit of knowledge that makes everything click into place. Spoiler: you're not going to find that outside of yourself. Looking for bit after bit after bit of information without actually applying the law is going to complicate the process so so much, so think about taking a step back. Write down how you plan to manifest, what's your "routine", no more than 2 to 3 steps. Write it down. That's your lifeline. Get off Tumblr, TikTok, Instagram, whatever social media you use to learn about manifesting and shifting, and turn back to those steps whenever you have the urge to get back on. Focus on what you already know instead of trying to learn more.

Try not to worry about shifting or going into the void when you're not actively trying to do one or the other. If you're like me before I successfully shifted, you're probably worrying about whether you're going to shift or not at time when you aren't actively trying to shift. You hype yourself up and psych yourself up before the moment even arrives. Stop doing that! Whenever it comes up naturally in your mind, just reply to the thought, "I am going to shift/go into the void tonight" and leave it at that. Go back to whatever you were doing before and don't spend a single second agonizing over something you haven't even attempted yet. If you build up those worries/fears/doubts/negative assumptions whilst you're not actively trying to shift or go into the void, you are just giving a platform to useless negativity that, if you let it, can effect your ability to clear your mind and give shifting/going into the void a proper go.

Decide, don't hope. Part of manifesting is deciding. If you're meek and "try" to manifest as though what you seek isn't certain to come to you, it won't. You have to be assertive. You have to be demanding. You have to claim what is yours and have confidence in your ability to manifest. Stop "hoping" to do something right. Tell yourself you're doing everything right, because you are, babes. Decide to shift, don't hope to shift. Decide you have your desired face, don't hope you affirm enough that you wake up with it. Claim what is yours with open arms and know you have the power to get it the instant you desire it. Have confidence. It's the key to acknowledging your own power.

Don't worry about undesired outcomes. I once heard that if you're skiing and you're worried about hitting trees so much so that all you think of is "don't hit the trees," you're most likely going to hit those trees. Instead, focus on the path. Don't think about what you don't want, think about what you do want. Give your attention to the right things and eventually they will become your reality.

TOO LONG, DIDN'T READ: A SUMMARY

✮ Your doubts only have the power you give them. All power comes from you, so don't waste your infinite potential on negative thoughts. They are itty bitty, pesky flies and nothing more. Swat them away and move on.

✮ You believe in yourself more than you think. Chances are you're not doubting the law, you're doubting yourself. But if you didn't believe in yourself at all, you probably wouldn't be here, looking for my posts. Realize that you believe in yourself more than you think. It's motivating when you're frustrated.

✮ Act as if the road is clear. Allow yourself to put all doubts and road block on hold for a minute. Assume there's nothing in between you and getting your desires. Operate under that feeling for a little bit and see what happens

✮ Stop scouring Tumblr! There's a high chance that you already know exactly what to do, you're just struggling to apply it. Take what you know now, which I can assure you is more than enough, and get off of Tumblr. Do what you can with what you know, and once you feel comfortable with that, come back for the extra tidbits.

✮ Don't worry about shifting/going into the void while you're not actively trying to do it. When you worry about it during the day, you build up expectations for something you haven't even done yet. That's unfair to yourself. Don't worry about it until you're actually doing it.

✮ Stop hoping and start deciding. Hoping for success does nothing. Deciding you already are successful paves the way to getting everything you want. Don't "hope" to shift. Decide to do it. Don't "hope" you wake up with your desired face. Decide you have it right now. Assert your power and confidence.

✮ Focus on what you want, not what you don't want. Give attention to the good and that is what you will bring about. Worrying about getting what you don't want does absofreakinglutely nothing. Focus on the good, don't even think about the bad. It's not what you're getting. You get what you assume you have, so assume the best.

CONCLUSION

I promised you guys another ABA and here it is!! I know this was a bit more "Don't do this" heavy and I am sorry for that, but a lot of my journey came from recognizing what I did wrong and adjusting. I'm sorry if I came off a bit strict as a result of that lol, it was definitely not my intention. I hope this helps you guys, and THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH FOR 1,000 FOLLOWERS!! It's so crazy to think that this account I started just a few months ago (!!!) has gotten so so popular in such a kind community. Keep being kind to one another and I thank you endlessly for your love and support.

<3 Astra

[aromantic-spinda]

Look. Buddy. I'm not going to go through all of this, but..

Trans identities are about gender, lesbian/gay/bi/pan/etc are about who you experience sexual/romantic attraction to, and aro/ace are about how you (do or don't) experience that attraction. But aplatonic is about friendship, about how you relate to people outside of relationships. It's not a romantic or sexual spectrum so it has as much to do with aro/ace as it does with Lgbt-etc and vice versa, right? I just feel like it would be better to view aplatonic as a separate valid thing.

This is fucking wrong.

Aplatonicism is about platonic attraction. It's about not experiencing a type of attraction that everyone is expected to have. It's not about "how you relate to people outside of relationships". Where did you get that from?? Genuine question. This is like if I said being asexual was about how you physically touch people. Being aplatonic is about how you do or don't experience a type of attraction that is subject to normativity, just like being aromantic or asexual. Because I don't know if you knew this, but a friendship is a type of relationship!! A platonic relationship is a type of relationship!!

Also. "Amatonormativity and platonormativity are mutually exclusive" is just blatantly incorrect. The way people are expected to desire and partake in romantic relationships (and to value those relationships above other kinds) is not in conflict with the way people are expected to desire and partake in platonic relationships. It just means that people can twist the argument against any of us at any time – if we value platonic relationships as much as or more than romantic relationships, we're weirdos and "destined to die alone", but if we don't want platonic relationships at all, we're mentally ill losers. Both of these forms of normativity work together to impress upon us a very particular way of how we "should do" relationships.

On that note, doing away with/speaking out against amatonormativity is not just about wanting platonic relationships to be on the same level as romantic relationships in society – it's about doing away with the expectation and demand for romance/romantic attraction. It's about giving people the opportunity to decide how they feel about different kinds of relationships without societal pressure. In this, speaking out against amatonormativity and speaking out against platonormativity go hand-in-hand.

It sounds to me as though you're basing your entire argument about why we should be excluded from the community on fundamental misunderstandings of aplatonicism and platonormativity (as well as amatonormativity), along with a side of "you just wouldn't get it" when we're telling you that you're reinforcing normativity and establishing relationship hierarchies on a community wide level. It's not about individual preferences – it's about how time and time again, people make assumptions of platonic attraction and a desire for friendship of anyone who is aspec in any way. It's about how so many positivity posts for aromantics assume the reader has/wants friends. It's about how other aspecs will come onto our posts to talk about how "sad" it is that we don't value friendship. It's about how the immediate assumption from others when someone values romantic relationships over platonic relationships is that we're not aspec, not queer, have never questioned any form of relationship normativity in our lives, etc.. It's about how the aspec community is rife with platonormativity and aplaphobia.

Also, anattractional means something different, and I have no interest in rewriting the definition of a term already in use when aspec is perfectly fine as an umbrella term.

My apologies if this comes off as aggressive, but it feels as though you're telling me I don't belong in my own community because you can't be bothered to actually understand our identities, terminology, and solidarity with other communities – something I have been subjected to many times over for being aspec in multiple ways. If you're here to learn more about aplatonicism, don't make assumptions about it.

being apl in aspec communties sucks sm. everything is all about how important platonic relationships are and "dismantling relationship heirarchies", while just building new ones. it feels super unwelcoming.

like yea sure to YOU sexual/romantic relationships don't mean anything/are devalued/etc, but not to all of us!! some of us LIKE those things, and MORE than platonic relationships. its like we rnt even aspec at all 2 these people, like sorry some of us go against the grain of society while still having certain ""non queer"" parts to our identity. i feel like we are seen as not aspec/lgbt enough to participate in those communities. so much about the aspec communtity is about how untalked about we are and how we are never included or thought about in discussions, but aro and ace communtities do the same to us!!!

.

[knowlesian]

hey! sorry to bug you but that last post has my brain buzzing in my skull—do you think ed knows that izzy is oblivious to his aversion to killing people? 👁‍🗨 i’ve been operating under the assumption that while izzy hasn’t put it together, the threat lands because ed thinks he has and i’m SO curious about your thoughts on that entire interaction honestly

you're not bothering me at all! in fact, consider this a gold star super mario music moment because this ask actually unlocks some ed shit i have been dying to talk about but just hadn't gotten around to/had an excuse to throw together yet.

because i think ed knows izzy has no idea, and the toe thing is like... ooooh baby. okay, let me tackle this in two parts.

one: why i think ed knows izzy doesn't know.

i wouldn't say that ed had this plan in mind from day one of starting to build his pirate resume, but i do think he's a smart guy with social intelligence for fuckin' miles.

(the party in e5 is a notable exception that i think proves the rule: i'll get back to it later, though.)

so: ed would have needed to learn fast to protect himself in a million ways, including learning how to kill somebody but make sure they die a few steps/minutes later, when he's on homebase and it doesn't count or whatever. i'm sure he would have made the obvious leap that the scarier you are and the more you enjoy a good maim in public, the less anybody wants to fuck around lest they find out. and with fewer people who want to mess with him, there will be fewer people he has to incapacitate but not immediately kill.

the legend of blackbeard covers strangers' assumptions; but even when it comes to those around him, people also don't assume that somebody who models outsized instances of violence like we're told (and shown) ed employs are covering for a sad backstory and a lack of desire to kill people driven by trauma and self-hate.

they go oh FUCK, there is no doubt in my mind, that guy super kills people. (admiring/horrified, as applicable.)

(caveat: my outside chance thought here remains if anybody put those pieces together and kept ed's secret anyway without ever letting ed know he knew it'd be fang.)

so ed is definitely aware that a level of performed violence in public is going to buffer him from anybody looking crosswise. i think he's also been pissed off over the years and enjoyed the lashing out— or at least, the momentary release it gave him— more than he does now when he was younger, but i'd lay down money one of many reasons ed builds the legend of blackbeard so well is to cover for himself and make it so he never finds himself in a place where the issue is forced and he has to directly kill again.

(this is why i don't think he really intends to kill stede. i think at first he's just bullshitting and assuming he can just put izzy off long enough to sell him on something else because that's how it goes with them, and it's what he knows will get izzy off his back about stede/get him to stick around in the moment; and even when he's talking himself up to it in e6 after izzy does not let this one go, i don't think there's a world where ed goes through with that murder.)

i think ed also knows izzy well enough to know that if that lil gremlin ever figured out ed doesn't kill, he would process it as 'can't' kill. and men who can't kill are not Real Men, in izzy's sad violent little worldview. ed's choices would be a deficiency and weakness in his eyes as well as a failure of masculinity, and we have been shown over and over what izzy thinks of anybody who checks the fucked up weak/gay as in girly boxes he is so very sure are real and matter.

also: we are really not given an indication izzy is a guy who keeps a secret terribly well— or his thoughts to himself for long. like... kind of ever. if izzy knew ed is failing at a very basic standard of izzy's How To Be A Man Good And Hurt People Lots Until They Are Dead, i have to imagine it would come up. loudly, and often.

which brings me to 'then why the toe????'

okay, so. couple facts to lay down here, provided by canon or by extrapolation.

one: ed can read izzy and knows how to say or give him what he wants.

two: e9 establishes the toe routine is an old bit for ed, and it stands to reason izzy has either seen it done or heard about it.

three: izzy gets off on ed going all diy toe first communion. he gets off on it long, and he gets off on it HARD.

(ew. ohhhh this man. oh this weird sad gross man. TO THE PICKLE JAR, SIR, TO THE MOTHERFUCKIN PICKLE JAR WITH THEE.)

all of this says to me: ed knew that izzy would respond positively to getting his toe cut off, and that's why he did it despite telling us an episode before via how he talks about doing it in the past that he never actually liked it as much as it might have appeared. ("poor bloke", etc.)

whether it's because izzy saw it happen and got all omg. omg. weird violence that gets subtextually gay and tender at the end??? well sign my unhealthy expressions of masochism 'r us tiny ass UP and ed clocked it back then, or ed just knows him well enough to know that izzy's response to the Weird Vore would be 'unlike you sheeple, i see that this is a sign of love. my boyfriend is back and wanted to show me he understands now that there are no other ways or people we can be, this is FINE, EVERYTHING IS COOL AND GOOD AGAIN!' i would lay down money the toe was not so much ed being afraid of izzy, as ed knowing what izzy would consider a reward for reality check services rendered.

and i know that sounds... how it fuckin sounds, but we gotta adjust for values of the weird little fucker in question. izzy has his intricate rituals and catholic masochism shit constantly bumper-car'ing around his head like yes. good. love is suffering is violence is love is toes is love is I NEED THERAPY.

so for him, the toe is both reassurance edward is home to stay and evidence he can relax and stop riding ed's ass all the time, and that's even before it's a sex thing.

this gets ed: an izzy who is back in line and not as suspicious, which gives ed space to do things like cry alone or like. act how he wants, for five whole minutes.

so i think the toe was a calculated choice, designed to play on what izzy wants and expects in order to give ed some cover again.

and now, sort of tacked awkwardly onto the end: why the party and ed not clocking that those people were laughing at him at first is the exception to his social awareness on purpose. (outside stede stuff, which is this whole other related but adjacent kettle of fish.)

so: two major things are going on at the party, imo. the first is culture shock; when you're not used to the social rules of the road, or the rules you're used to mean something else to the group you're currently with, it necessitates a catching up period.

if i'm used to a world where people chuck tomatoes at me because they think i told a shitty joke and i enter a parallel world where this is a sign of supreme admiration for brilliant comedy skills, i'm not gonna get the compliment at first.

i used that dumb analogy to lead me into why it's even harder in situations where you are seeking laughs. if you are not trying to be funny and people laugh at you, there's a very easy question to ask: well, why are they doing that?

and then it's usually either because you made an inadvertent joke or they're a dick! easy to sort through.

when you are looking for laughter, parsing through if it's good laughter or not gets harder.

the party is sort of a metaphor version of what happens when you are a comedian from a marginalized group, poking light-hearted fun at your own group in a setting where people know what they're invoking and everybody's having fun. stereotypes often come into it, because at the core of some common stereotypes are occasionally truths! and because jokes hit different when they're made by thoughtful people who are joking about themselves and their lived reality, not being a jerk about groups they will never be part of.

and then: people who aren't in your group find it. and they laugh, and it is not thoughtful and it is certainly not fucking fun. they don't get it: they're laughing at you, because they think all the stereotypes they have about you are super fun and super true.

so ed, who is something of a natural performer and entertainer, is seeking out laughs at the party in e5, and that's why he doesn't see the laughter as a sign anything's wrong at first. he's making jokes, he's dancing— he wants people to laugh with him.

he does not want people to laugh at him.

then he's not joking anymore, he just doesn't know their stupid rich people 'we have so much money and ennui we made up new and dumber ways to judge people for not being as rich and bored as we are' spoon rules, and they still laugh at him.

as soon as that switch happens, ed gets it. it's not that he's bad at reading people, it's that a combo of culture shock and looking for laughs forestalled the obvious conclusion until the very second he stopped looking, at which point he immediately knew they were fuckheads and switched gears.

[brownflower23]

Not My Father

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

*Mature Content Warning*

Summary: Reader gets arrested at a bar. Her boss comes to save her, but after months of frustration she doesn't get the response she expects. However, she receives much more than she can handle. 

"That pervert is lucky all I did was break his nose" You roll your eyes at officer idiot questioning you. Treating you as some sort of criminal, when in actuality you put the worst of criminals away. "Well we called your supervisor; you can take it up with him" The officer snickered, a lump instantly formed in your throat.

"You called who?" You yell at the dumbstruck officer in front of you, clearly not expecting your panicked response. Just after the words left your mouth, your boss crossed the barrier into the holding room. Your stomach instantly flipped, as if you had been caught by a parent as a child. Your eyes meeting his; he stared with the same scolding glare you were expecting. The same look you'd seen many times; it always gave you chills. However, you had never been the one sitting on this side of the table feeling its full force. He folded his arms tightly over his broad chest, eyes lingering at the cuffs connected to your wrist.

At that moment, you couldn't find words to defend what he was seeing, you could only imagine his thoughts. Your barely appropriate dress, your makeup, unlike anything he had seen at work. He finally peeled his eyes off of you, somehow that making you feel even worse.

"Please remove the cuffs, I can handle it from here. Thank you again for the call." Hotch finally spoke, but only to the officer, nodding to him. He returned the nod and quickly walked over removing your restraints.

"Thanks." You gripped at the idiot who arrested you, rolling your eyes at him again. Hotch shot you a warning glare, causing you to sigh while massaging your wrists. This night was utter bullshit. The officer finally left the room, you stood expecting to follow.

"Where do you think you're going?" His stern voice forcing your body to freeze, sending chills down your entire spine. "Um, I thought I was allowed to leave." You replied without looking directly at him, you didn't think you could handle it right now. "You have nothing to say for yourself?" Hotch scoffed.

"I'm sorry?" You questioned, failing to sound sincere. He doesn't respond this time, after an uncomfortable moment of silence you finally looked to meet his stare. He let out a frustrated sigh "Let's go. Before I change my mind." He cautions before leading us through the police station, again thanking the captain and same officer.

"Where is my car?" You ask once outside after you were returned your phone and I.D. "I'm guessing still at the bar you were picked up at, or by now at a towing company. You can deal with that in the morning, get in." He answers not stopping his strides toward the black SUV. You hurry to enter, afraid he might leave you here, the cool night air sending additional chills over your body, still buzzing from earlier.

The ride has an eerie silence, you had never made Hotch this mad at you, the feeling honestly made you want to hurl. You notice you aren't familiar with the street signs you were passing. "Can I ask where we are going?" You break the silence. "My place." He answers blankly, not removing his attention from the road. "Why?" You dare to question. "Because it is late, and you were picked up from a bar." He shot back gripping the steering wheel tighter, not seeming to give you another option.

After ten more agonizing minutes, he finally pulls into a parking garage. You quickly jump out of the car, following Hotch through a few hallways. You felt a wave of awkwardness once he finally stopped at the door. He quickly unlocked it and opened the door for you. You look at the open door, feeling like it was a threshold you shouldn't enter.

"Look I'm fine, I can call a cab to take me to my car." You insist, still not crossing the threshold. "No. You shouldn't be driving, you can stay here." He replied like it was an order. "We aren't at work." You spat not believing him. "Lower your voice, your yelling will wake others." He corrected you again, you noticing the clenching of his jaw. You groaned pushing past him into the apartment.

"Look I appreciate this but.." you start to continue your previous argument but his deep voice cuts you off. "You're correct agent, we are not at work. Meaning, that I did not have to leave my home in the middle of the night, coming to save you from being thrown in jail. You're lucky Jack is away or you would've been there until Monday." He chastised you again, but this time he was right. Although; still being a dick to you of all people.

"I didn't ask you to, I didn't even tell them I was an agent so don't try to make me feel guilty." You plead your case as he began to walk away. "I'm not trying to make you feel anything, maybe if you had more control of your actions you wouldn't be in this situation." He argues turning back in your direction. You finally noticed his different appearance, no jacket or tie, but jeans with an athletic shirt, his hair not styled but falling casually onto his face.

"I don't even want to be in this situation, I'll just go to my car." You huff turning back walking to the door. You just reached the handle, when a large hand came in your line of sight, pushing against the door.

"I'm not letting you leave like this. I don't know your mental state." You hear spoken close behind you. You spin on your heels, slightly taken back by how close your boss was to you. "I promise I'm fine. I wasn't drunk, and it's been hours." You roll your eyes again. "Obviously not, I have never seen you act like this." His voice was desperately trying to hide his frustration with you for the evening, you could see his chest rising against the fitted shirt.

"What? Not perfectly following your orders? Not everyone is perfect like you Hotch." You were yelling at this point, and you didn't care. You had never seen a person with more patience and composure than Hotch, but you finally broke him. "You allegedly assaulted someone at a bar drunk, get arrested, risk your career, the reputation of the BAU, and my credibility as Supervisor. You honestly think you should go back out right now?" He yelled back shocking you, feeling his minty breath fan across your face.

"You don't even know my side of the story!" You gasp at his assumptions. "How am I supposed to when you wouldn't tell me?" He hisses, still holding his same position, you had never seen such fire in his eyes.

"You are not my fucking father Hotch" You yell again, refusing to let him overpower you.

Your back hit the door with a thud, causing you to groan into his mouth. His hands gripping onto your hips roughly, pulling your bodies as close as possible. One of your hands latching his shoulder to steady yourself, while your other tugged at his soft hair.

"Then stop being a damn brat" He all out growls directly in your face, not missing a beat. Your not sure who moves first, you honestly think it was instantaneous, but before you blinked your mouths clash desperately, hands frantically grasping onto wherever you could reach first.

You purposely tugged harder, retrieving a groan from him, hearing it igniting a hunger in you. His lips slightly parted, so you took advantage sliding your tongue over his, still determined not to be overpowered.

Your control is short-lived, as he shifts his leg up, making you gasp at the contact, your head craning against the cold door. Even on your tiptoes, you couldn't relieve the pressure, perching you upon his thick thigh, causing your dress to bunch leaving only your damp underwear as a barrier.

"Did you think after your little game, I'd let you control me, sweetheart?" He huffs against your ear, in an even deeper tone than he usually held. You had never been affected by a pet name, but just coming from him made your walls clench, further agonizing you. You finally open your eyes, batting up at his dark eyes innocently. "I don't know what you mean" you smirk. You felt a low chuckle in his chest, and then you were swiftly moved, flipping you to face the door.

"I'm having a hard time believing that y/n. You've spent months purposely teasing and frustrating me. This..." he pauses his sentence, using his foot to spread your ankles, gripping your wrist together. "Is exactly what you wanted correct?" He completes the question as a whisper against your ear, making you shutter against him. You weren't giving in that easy.

"I honestly didn't think you had it in you...old man." You further push him, knowing your slight age difference being one of the things you regularly tease him about. He groans lowly at your words, pushing you harder against the door. "I still remember exactly how to handle a brat like you"

He punctuates the end of his sentence by effortlessly ripping your thin underwear from under your skirt, throwing the torn fabric to the floor. You shook at the cool air hitting your core, finally noticing how wet you were. His fingers brush over your center, gently spreading your arousal. You bite your lip to keep in the moans your body desperately want to release.

"Then why are you so wet for me sweetheart, hum?" Hotch hums in your ear, pushing his thick finger slowly into your pussy. You don't bother trying to hold in your moans this time, overwhelmed by the feeling of your muscles clenching around this finger, attempting to take it as deep as possible.

As if a single finger wasn't enough, he added a second stretching you delightfully. You scratch against his hand, as if some sort of plea, but the last thing you wanted was for him to stop as you could feel the pleasure building in your stomach. "Something wrong?" He coos arrogantly, watching your face morphing, as your pants of pleasure increase.

"Nothing" You manage to smart back without it sounding completely of a moan. By this point, you drenched his fingers, coating them entirely, letting him fuck his fingers into you as fast as he pleased. You hear a faint growl come deep from Hotch's chest, almost sounding frustrated. "Don't you lie to me; If you are not honest you don't get what you want sweetheart" "And what do I want?" You laugh through a heavy breath.

He shifts an unoccupied finger up to graze your clit every time his fingers plunge into you, making you gasp against the cold door. He leans down to your neck, tickling your skin with his beard. "To be fucked like you wish those boys you entertain would fuck you." Hearing your boss talk like that sends you spiraling, throwing your head back onto his chest to support you as your legs began to feel weak. Just as you clench around his fingers he retracts them, leaving you dripping down your thigh, craving satisfaction.

"What the fuck?" You yell spinning quickly to face him, he catches you by the neck placing you against the door again. Your breath caught, you felt like you didn't have a voice with his large hand around your throat. The way he was staring at you, like his prey. It made your knees weak.

He lifts his other hand between your bodies, you could see his middle fingers glistening. He keeps his eyes nailed to yours, you still trying to calm your pathetic pants. Your mouth gapes as you watch him take the fingers in his mouth, he groans out twirling his tongue, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment savoring your taste. You were fucked.

He removes his fingers slowly, still watching you staring at him with big doe eyes. Then wiping the edge of his mouth with his hand. "Watch it, sweetheart. I'm not sure if you haven't caught on... but I always give the orders. You will not cum until I allow." You whimper loudly at his declaration, you had never had a man command you like this, but you couldn't deny the effect it was having on your body.

"I'll do what you say." You whisper, barely audible, looking away from his eyes. Loosening his hand on your neck, using it to make you look back up to him. A faint smirk now played at the corner of his lips. "What was that?" He lightly chuckles. You suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

"I said I'll do what you say. Happy?" You return the smirk. "Hmm, honestly I thought you'd be harder to break. I think you're just trying to get what you want." He informs you, moving his face closer to yours. You shrug your shoulders innocently. "Is it working?" You breathe against his lips before gripping onto his shirt pulling him flush against you.

His mouth explores yours again; it's without a doubt the best kiss of your life. He was so skilled in his movements, and how he taunted you with his hands without actually pleasuring you. Maybe you had been dealing with boys before.

Hotch gripping into your hips, lifting you slightly before walking your bodies away from the door. You hardly notice he was moving you until your legs hit the back of a couch. He instantly spun you around making you a bit dizzy, folding you at the waist over the couch.

You couldn't help the smirk that grew on your face hearing the chime of his belt buckle, you were getting exactly what you wanted. "I wouldn't gloat so quickly y/n" Hotch warns. You try to look back to observe but cannot move from him keeping a hand on your neck, pushing your chest into the oversized cushion.

"And I shouldn't because?" You entertain his warning. "Because this" is the only answer he provides, and you then feel the pressure. That of him forcing his cock in you with a single plunge, burying himself to your brim, ripping through any defiance left in you.

"Aaron!" You scream out his first name, gasping for the air he just knocked from your stomach. He was massive, stretching you uncomfortably, you didn't have to see it to know you had never taken a cock this big. You were also sinfully a sucker for pain.

"Fuck" he groans above you, surly your tightness was affecting him also. You knew that he rammed into you purposely, not wanting you to be able to conform to his size before punishing you.

He made the single motion again, burying himself again and stopping, making you cry out again. "What's wrong sweetheart? A brat like you can take it right?" His breathing is labored now, one hand still tightly holding you down, the other now roughly gripping your hip. He repeats the same hard single thrust, you can feel tears building at your lashes. The way he filled you was overwhelming.

"Please" you beg, squirming under him. You weren't sure what you were begging for at this point, you just needed him. Every time he stills you could feel his cock pulsing deep in you, not delivering enough pleasure to relieve you, but only to further drive you mad.

"Oh, now you want to do what you're told huh? Now you beg like a pathetic whore." He responds with another snap of his hips. You couldn't take much more, you felt as if you could combust at any second. "Aaron I can't..please" you cry, feeling the tears stream over your face, he had finally broken you.

"Go ahead baby, call me what you really want. Go ahead." He groans, pulling your head back by a fist full of your hair. He didn't have to say it, you knew exactly what he meant, and he knew you wanted it. So you let everything out, all the months of frustration boiling over.

"Daddy, please...I'm yours...please" You wish you could've recorded the sound that escaped Aaron at that moment, a loud groan mixed with a needy whine. Matched by feeling his cock twitch inside you, struggling to stay composed hearing that name.

He throws his hips into you again, but this time it follows with another quick thrust, over and over, filling the room with a slapping noise and your moans. He keeps your hair pulled back, making your body hold the arch for him to angle deeper, brushing your g spot with each hard thrust.

"Yes yes yes, don't stop" You scream, him finally giving you what you needed. "Can you take it, baby? You're so damn tight" He grunts, you weren't going to last with him calling you baby. "Yes, daddy, harder please" you plea, wanting him to ruin you. He grants your wish, fucking you harder, you gasping feeling it all the way in your stomach. You would certainly be bruised tomorrow, but the pain would be worth it.

"Fuck daddy. So good... so fucking deep." You cry, feeling your body begin to tingle, your legs shaking against him. He groans feeling you tightening "Cum for daddy sweetheart." He encourages through his heavy breaths, and that's all it takes to make your body snap. He slows his motions slightly letting you ride out your orgasm, your walls still fluttering around his thick cock.

He releases your head, you not having the energy to stay upright you letting it hang down against the couch. "Shit that's was amazing" You whisper, causing him to chuckle and slowly begin to move into you again. Your eyes flash open realizing he still hadn't finished.

"Aaron I can't" you whine, your body couldn't possibly take more of this. "Oh I'm not finished, and neither are you" He growls in your ear, you couldn't help but moan out at his tone. "I can't take anymore" You whine again, only fueling him. He releases the hand that was holding you, now gripping onto both of your hips harshly, definitely leaving a mark. There was no reason to restrain you anymore, he knew you were his.

Hotch returns to the same pace he held previously, causing your eyes to roll back as you yelp, grasping onto the couch for dear life it felt. "Don't forget your place sweetheart. You're done when I say brat..." he pauses his sentence, repositioning one of his hands to your front. "And I think you can give me one more." He states as he set fire to your body rubbing fiercely over your clit, steadily pushing himself deep, determined to make you unravel again.

"Daddy" You scream, feeling your body giving in to him, his thrust becoming frantic, his moans become beastly with each thrust. "Give it to me y/n. Ahh... fuck. I know you want to baby." Is his final pleasuring cry to take you with him, as he made a final slap against your body to sheathe himself fully.

"Oh, Aaron" Is all you can cry as the air hitches in your throat. All at once, your body erupts again, feeling him filling you with his seed. Grasping onto him to anchor yourself to reality, uncertain this level if euphoria is real, or if you'll ever get to relive it again.

Drained of any energy, your body collapses into his, feeling his arms catch you and lifting you sweetly into his embrace. Although; unable to open your eyes, you feel him carefully carrying you, and then the soft cushion of a bed. You weren't sure how long he was gone, but your body slightly jumps at the feeling of a wet cloth between your thighs.

"Wha..what are you doing?" You mutter against a pillow and hear him softly laugh at you. "I've got you, sweetheart, just rest" He replies in a very tender voice. He softly wipes your leg, erasing the proof of your shared pleasure. Even half-conscious you had never felt so adored. Following; you feel him slide the heels off your feet, and then tug at the end of your dress to remove it. Your dress is finally off, and you feel it would be silly to care about after the deed you two just committed.

You are only naked for a couple of seconds before he wiggles a soft t-shirt over your body, oversized enough to be a nightgown. It smells strongly of him, which comforted you, but not as much as him pulling you into his bare chest, kissing your forehead just as you slip into an exhausted sleep.

Please let me know if this should be turned into a short series! Thanks loves!