#buy a pet for a year's access

[pens-swords-stuff]

I just got intensely nostalgic for Webkinz all of a sudden

[hp-hcs]

i didn’t realize the riddle brothers were a "buy one get one free" type of deal, but alright — simp! overprotective! yandere! riddle brothers x gn! oblivious! bullied! slytherin! reader

requested by 🎀!

2.5k words, not to brag 😌

i love writing the bros’ interactions with each other as like, actual sibling-core yk? they r just so cutie patootie

the reader's patronus makes an appearance in this, but i tried to make it as accessible to everyone as possible, so it's never explicitly stated what animal it is. it is implied that it’s able-to-fit-under-a-table sized though

also this is totally just pre-slash nothing that interesting happens

warnings: couple mentions of blood, mild descriptions of wounds, implied violence, implied bullying, murder

not edited!! this is my first like, really long fic so constructive criticism is welcome!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A well-timed shove to the small of your back sent you tumbling down an entire flight of moving stairs. 

You groaned as you hit the bottom, sprawled out on your back on the cold stone floor. You laid there for a moment, winded. You could hear the occupants of a nearby painting titter at your gracefulness (or lack thereof), so you rolled your head to the other side to give them an award winning smile and an unabashed middle finger. 

You could hear them all grumble about kids these days and how I never would’ve treated my elders this way. You just rolled your eyes at their pettiness. 

“Uh…what are you doing?” A decidedly alive voice interrupted your momentary satisfaction.

“Ah- evening, Riddle!” You said cheerily as soon as you recognized the speaker, scrambling to your feet and dusting off your uniform. “Nothing! Just…tripped. Couldn’t see very well in the dark, that’s all.”

Tom blinked, his lips twisted into a frown. “.....Fine. But don’t let me catch you out of bed past curfew again. You’re a Slytherin, for Salazar’s sake. Act like it.”

And that was it. Tom turned on his heel and continued down the hall without another word. Tom Riddle: prefect, teacher’s pet, and obnoxious hardass extraordinaire—he just...let you go, with no threats of detention or loss of house points. 

Huh. 

~~~

Tom, having just returned from a full night’s shift of prefect hall duty, flopped face-down onto his bed, his cheeks aflame as he let out a muffled shriek into his pillow. 

His brother, in the process of getting dressed for the day, paused at the scene in front of him. 

“Dude, what’s your deal?” 

“L/n,” Tom said by way of explanation, kicking his feet as he shrieked into his pillow again. “They acknowledged me. And they know my last name.”

“Most people know our last name, Tom,” Mattheo rolled his eyes.

“No- you don’t understand,” Tom said emphatically. “L/n is like…the cutest person to ever exist. And they’re so sweet, and smart, and funny, and-”

“And terrified of us?”

“Well…”

Mattheo rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips. “You talk about them too much. It’s getting insufferable.”

Tom just scowled and flicked his fingers to cast a wandless spell that straightened Mattheo’s tie and neatened his uniform. “The way you dress is insufferable. Slob.”

Mattheo stuck out his tongue at his brother before ruffling Tom’s hair to purposely mess it up. “Dick.”

“Idiot.”

~~~

Mattheo glanced up at you as you hovered uncertainly by the corner of his desk. 

“Can I sit here…?” You mumbled shyly, your cheeks flushing as the pretty dark-haired boy in your year smiled up at you.

“Course!” He grinned brightly before realizing that might have been too enthusiastic of a reply for eight in the morning and quickly tried to cover up his slip. “Uh…Y/n, right? I’m Mattheo.”

“Yeah, I know who you are.”

Mattheo’s stomach dropped.

Fuck, that’s not good.

“You let me copy your homework in third year for that essay on the properties of wormwood, or whatever.” You said offhandedly, like it wasn’t batshit insane to remember that pointlessly tiny detail. “Thank you for that, by the way. Potions sucks ass.”

Before Mattheo could even think, the words left his mouth. “I could tutor you if you want.”

You looked at him oddly, but grinned after a second. “Yeah, sure. That’d actually be really helpful. Snape hates me, man.”

“Really? Even though you’re in Slytherin?”

“Mhm, his baseless nepotism only extends so far.”

Mattheo barked out a startled laugh as your deadpan humor caught him off guard. You just grinned at him in response, causing the tips of his ears to immediately burn bright red.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, ducking his head in embarrassment. “Um…do you wanna meet in the library after school today? For our tutoring session,” Mattheo hurriedly added. 

“Sure, alright.” You shrugged. “See you there.”

He beamed, giving you that stupidly adorable grin once more. “Awesome! Yeah- yeah, cool. Awesome. See you there then.”

~~~

You were still shit at potions.

It had been six weeks of tutoring, and you’d learned pretty much nothing. Although, that wasn’t an issue on Mattheo’s part, but rather on his annoyingly hot older brother’s. 

Tom Riddle was surprisingly funny. For someone who gave off almost exclusively stoically austere bastard vibes, he enjoyed cracking jokes and enlisting your help in pulling pranks on his brother a bit too much.

It became your routine. Every Tuesday and Thursday after school, you would meet the two brothers in the library, waste like three hours joking around and getting absolutely no work done, and then going back to your dorm and ranting to your roommate about how fucking cute they are and how you would gladly pay for the opportunity to make out with one- no, both of them. 

(Your roommate is so fucking tired of hearing about the Riddles. You’d better buy them a latte and a cake-pop as an apology.)

~~~

You struggled to get up, your legs giving out. You cursed under your breath, putting a hand to your forehead as it throbbed in pain. 

It came away sticky with blood. 

This wasn’t going to work, you realized belatedly. With what remained of your strength, you were able to reach out and grab your wand, murmuring a quiet, “Expecto Patronum.”

A spectral creature formed in front of your eyes, remaining motionless as it stared at you. 

“Go find Riddle,” you mumbled to the Patronus, your eyelids growing heavy. 

You barely registered the wispy glowing animal immediately bounding off at your instructions, your vision doubling before your body went completely slack, the wand slipping from your fingers and hitting the tile floor with a clatter. 

~~~

Mattheo doodled mindlessly in the margins of his parchment as his brother droned on and on about the properties of willow bark in potions and really, this is important, Mattheo. Pay attention.

“Why isn’t Y/n here yet?” Mattheo asked his brother for the third time. 

Tom rolled his eyes. “I don’t know, Matt. Just like how I didn't know when you asked me five minutes ago. Maybe they just don’t want to see your stupid face any more, huh?”

“What if they’re in trouble? Or hurt?” Mattheo worried, chewing on his thumbnail and ignoring his brother’s insult. “They’re never late, Tommy.”

Tom wrinkled his nose at the use of the dumb (albeit endearing) nickname Mattheo gave him when they were children, but the sinking feeling in his gut at hearing his brother’s distressed tone didn’t help to ease the niggling worries at the back of his mind of maybe they are in trouble.

As if on cue, Mattheo shivered as something icy cold brushed against his ankles. He glanced down. A glowing spectral creature nudged his leg, looking up at him expectantly with unnervingly empty eyes. 

A Patronus. 

Y/n’s Patronus.

~~~

They followed the Patronus down the deserted hall, the animal occasionally pausing to make sure the boys were both still following it before bounding forward again.

The Patronus stopped in front of a bathroom door, giving them both that same unnervingly hollow-eyed stare of expectancy.

Tom gulped and pushed open the door, fearing that he might find the worst.

He did.

~~~

Your eyes cracked open slowly, and you winced at the multitude of stinging and stabbing pains that wracked your body.

You had to blink a couple times for everything to come into focus. You were in a small room with white walls and white flooring, and the gentle dawn illuminated the quiet space with soft rays of light. The steady beep of a vitals monitor faded into the background as you stared down at yourself.

You weren’t wearing a shirt, for one, or even a hospital gown. Pretty much your entire upper torso was wrapped in bloodstained gauze. The jagged edges of a brutal slash across your chest peeked out of the top of the dressings, and you had to close your eyes and hold your breath for a moment to keep from throwing up. Once you’d calmed back down, you opened your eyes, startled to see that you weren’t alone.

Mattheo had pulled up a chair to the side of your hospital bed and crossed his arms on the mattress, using them as a makeshift pillow. His dark lashes fanned across his cheeks, his breaths slow and even. He looked so peaceful and...unguarded in his sleep. You reached down to brush a loose curl away from his forehead.

“Having fun?”

You startled, jerking your hand back. 

Tom leaned against the doorframe of your room with an amused expression, quirking an eyebrow and wiggling his fingers in a wave.

“Shut up,” you hissed back in a whisper, your cheeks flaring red. 

Tom’s amused grin only grew at your dark blush as he invited himself into your room fully, closing the door behind him.

 “Your secret’s safe with me.” He jokingly winked, tapping the side of his nose.

“You’re insufferable.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What am I doing here?” You quickly changed topics, refusing to even look down in Mattheo’s direction. 

Tom sighed, any amusement on his face rapidly vanishing. “You sent us a Patronus, thank Merlin. Pomfrey said you would’ve bled out if you hadn’t.”

You had no memory of casting the Patronus charm at all, but you trusted Tom’s recollection of events better than your own jumbled and spotty one. “Bled out?” You questioned, your heart hammering in your throat as your voice climbed an octave in anxiety.

Tom nodded, his face carefully schooled into a blank and neutral expression. “You were hit with the Sectumsempra spell. You've been out for three days now.”

Your brow furrowed. “Malfoy got hit with that last year though—and was in and out of the infirmary in less than a day.”

“Snape knew the counterspell and found ‘im just in time last year,” Mattheo mumbled sleepily, his eyes still closed as he tuned into the conversation at hand. “But whoever hit you with it just left you there to die.”

“Charming.” You mutter under your breath.

“Regardless of what happened in Malfoy’s instance,” Tom interrupted briskly. “You were on the brink of literal death. So I’ll ask you this one time and one time only. Who did it, Y/n?”

~~~

“I brought you a cookie from the Great Hall,” Mattheo grinned widely, climbing into your hospital bed next to you and unwrapping the napkin in his hand. “And the notes from today’s Charms lesson, but those’re boring and we both know you won’t actually read ‘em.”

“Aww, you know me so well.” You teased, breaking the cookie in half and handing him one of the pieces.

Mattheo cupped the cookie fragment in his hands like it was a priceless treasure, staring down at it in unrestrained awe. 

You just shook your head at his antics and brushed the odd reaction off.

~~~

You woke up this morning and just felt like shit. You were nauseous, and dizzy, and felt borderline faint. Tom’s voice, usually soothing and comforting to hear, sounded like nails on a chalkboard right now. He rambled on and on about the delicate process of making the temperamental Felix Felicis potion. 

“Tom,” you interrupted, your voice scratchy and quiet. “Can we take a break? Please?”

He blinked, surprised at being interrupted, but nodded slowly. “I suppose…? Why?”

“Don’t feel good,” you mumbled, setting your textbook down and rubbing your eyes. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to,” Madame Pomfrey said brusquely as she bustled around your hospital room, shooing Tom out of the way to stand by your bedside. 

(Poppy Pomfrey remains the only person who can and has shooed Tom Riddle III and lived to tell the tale—and all without a single ounce of fear.)

“I’ve raised your dosage so that you can be out of here in time for your N.E.W.T.s.” Pomfrey elaborated upon seeing your confused look.

“Fantastic.” You mumbled dryly, grinning sleepily up at Tom as he grabbed onto your hand and interlaced your fingers together. He ignored the way his heart skipped a beat in favor of letting you hold his sweaty palm.

“Go to sleep, L/n,” Tom muttered under his breath. “Potions can wait.”

~~~

Tom lay in your hospital bed beside you, running his thumb over your knuckles. “Please? We promise we won’t do anything.”

“Yeah,” Mattheo chimed in from the other side of your crowded bed, one arm tossed over your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Or at least, nothing we’ll get caught for.”

You sigh, tired of their ceaseless pleading. “Alright, alright, fine. I’ll tell you who it was.”

Both boys leaned in close.

You sigh again and roll your eyes at their overprotectiveness. “Alright, it was-”

~~~

Tucker Thompson and Devin Dobbs: Gryffindor Sixth Years Found MURDERED at Hogwarts! Dumbledore: “No comment at this time.”

You tilted the newspaper so Madame Pomfrey could read the article over your shoulder as she replaced your IV bag. 

Pomfrey just sighed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t understand how Skeeter is still employed at the Prophet.”

“Cause shock value will always hold weight in the media?” You answered dryly around a mouthful of depressingly plain infirmary wing toast. “And Skeeter’s good at nothing if not coming up with bullshit shock value titles.”

“That may be true,” she began, snatching the paper from your hands. “But patients shouldn’t be reading about such dark subjects, and certainly not while under my care. And don’t talk while eating. I rather like your company, and would hate to see you choke.”

You rolled your eyes at her suffocatingly motherly behavior. “So are they? Thompson and Dobbs; they’re really dead?”

Madame Pomfrey hesitated.

You let out a relieved breath of air that you tried (and failed) to hide behind a cough. “That’s…terrible.”

She narrowed her eyes and studied you for a long moment, her fingers mindlessly worrying the deckle edge of the newspaper in her hands. “It was them, wasn’t it? Your boys.”

“My boys?”

“Yes, yes, Riddles one and two. Your boys.”

“Oh- we’re not…”

She raised an eyebrow, pursing her lips as she tried to hold back a laugh at the utter obliviousness of teenagers. “Do they know that, dear?”

You spluttered out a half-assed rebuke to her statement, but Pomfrey quickly interrupted you.

“They’ve been staying here for hours every day for the last month. They want more than just your friendship, hon.”

“No way. We’re just friends.” You insisted firmly. “That’s all.”

Madame Pomfrey rolled her eyes. “Uh huh. Friends. Keep telling yourself that.”

You stared after her, open-mouthed in bafflement, as she rolled up the Prophet, tucked it under her arm, and turned around without another word—leaving you with zero reading material and a million questions.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

you have to love how pomfrey could not give less of a fuck that the riddles murdered two students as long as she gets her ot3 absolutely iconic behavior

[yanderefarm]

yandere vampire's pet

cw;; dehumanization?, blood, vampires, humans as pets, yandere, angst, suggestive

this is the last named and drawn oc i have ready. i still have two more concepts in my drafts but they're not finished yet.

this might not show his yandere tendencies as well as characters like ares or emil but he's more of a self destructive type. he's more likely to hurt himself for doing something wrong than he is likely to hurt someone for touching you.

also i had to include the vampire guilt and angst im only human (human with a guilt kink)

you're a vampire lord in a world run by vampires with a yandere human pet who you found in a run down human farm after he basically threw himself at you. who clung to your leg and insisted he tasted so sweet you wouldn't regret taking in. who you took pity on seeing his scarred neck and decided to take him with you home.

you fed him and brought him to full health in a year. on the anniversary he begged on his knees for you to make him your pet. you complied. you didn't expect the preservation procedure that would allow him to stay with you forever to mess up his brain. or maybe this was always his personality.

he begged you every day to feed on him. he would sneak into your bed chamber and cut his neck to wake you up. he would sit himself in your lap around noon and undo his shirt buttons to give you easy access. if you dared to refuse him he would cry and beg so pathetically.

you made him this way why didn't you want him? he would often cry until you feel guilty for destroying his humanity. you always gave into him. he always got clingier. he tried not to get in your way during work but one day you let him lay his head on your lap and sit in your office quietly all day. so you had to let him again the next day.

if he really pushed too far you would lock him in an old attic room. oh how he sobbed. you would open the door the next day to be met with his bloodshot eyes that held no light. he would kiss your shoes and cling to your legs while he spoke hoarse apologies. you always forgave him and carried him in your arms to eat breakfast.

on the occasions that you two went to a party held by your fellow vampire lords he would always try to show off. you'd buy him new clothes and a new ribbon to hide his old scars. he liked being the most beautiful arm candy for you. it wasn't unusual for high quality pets to get passed around at these parties. at the end of the night he would often find himself in a strange bed, dizzy from being bled and pathetically crying for you.

your dear pet had spent the whole night being ravaged while you were doing business. his naked and used body laying in the unfamiliar bed, barely conscious. you sighed as you sunk onto the bed, your added weight causing him to shift slightly but he made no noise. usually by now he would be sobbing and reaching wildly for you, those degenerates must have really worked him hard.

you reached out and played with a piece of his hair. "I'm sorry, you poor pathetic creature."

your cold lifeless hands gently brush against his warm cheek. his body finally shifts a little, instinctively pulling away from the cold. you can't help the sad smile that falls on your lips seeing that. you forget how cold you are with how he clings to you at every opportunity. you can smell his blood right now and the tug of your instincts tells you to feed. you forget that you're a monster with how he treats you with such adoration and reverence.

"your life would have been better if you never met me." you push his hair away from his neck, revealing the old scars with fresh wounds scattered among them. your fingers brush against his pulse and he gasps.

you watch his olive eyes blink open slowly, they look almost too heavy to open. you want to gently close them like one would a corpse but the wide smile that spreads across his face stops you. if your heart could still beat you're sure it would have skipped.

"good morning." you said softly.

he used all his remaining strength to wrap around your waist. "y/n..."

his voice is so hoarse and he sounds so exhausted but there's the undeniable happiness. you guide his head to your lap, cold fingers twirling around his hair again.

"was i good...?" his eyes blinked slow again.

"yes. you were so amazing again tonight." you felt the weight of guilt pressing against your chest.

"reward m'...~" you knew he was asking you to indulge in him as so many others had tonight so you just ignored him.

you gently gathered him up in your arms, the top sheet draping over his body. you grabbed his discarded ribbon off the bed before you began carrying him out. the ribbon was sat on his stomach and his weak hands fiddled with it idly. he seemed to be too deep in thought to let sleep overtake him again.

"master... 'm glad you made me...." he nuzzled his head against your chest.

"your father made you." you corrected as you approached your carriage.

"no... y'... made m' y'r pathetic creature." his eyes finally started to close. "so glad m' life is master's.."

[sweet-as-an-angel]

how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?

Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans

Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Wordcount: 4364 words

♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.

♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.

♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.

♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.

♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.

♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.

♡ Lust and rage.

♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.

♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.

♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.

♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.

♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.

♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.

♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.

♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.

♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.

♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.

♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”

♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.

♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.

♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.

♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.

♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.

♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.

♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.

♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.

♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.

♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.

♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”

♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”

♡ You try again.

♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”

♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”

♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.

♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.

♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.

♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.

♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.

♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.

♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.

♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”

♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.

♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.

♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.

♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.

♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”

vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.

♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”

♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.

♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.

♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.

♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 

♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.

♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.

♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.

-

♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.

♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.

♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.

♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.

♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.

♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.

♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.

♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.

♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.

♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.

♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.

♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.

♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.

♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.

♡ Then, a memory.

♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.

♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.

♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.

♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.

♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.

♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.

♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.

♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.

♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.

♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.

♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.

♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.

♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.

♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.

♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.

♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.

♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.

♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.

♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.

♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.

♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.

♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”

♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.

♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.

♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”

♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.

♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.

♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.

♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”

♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.

♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”

♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.

♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.

♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”

♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.

♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”

♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.

♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”

♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.

♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”

♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.

♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.

♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.

♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”

♡ Your words caught in your throat again.

♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–

♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.

♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.

♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.

♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–

♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.

♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?

♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.

♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.

♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.

♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.

♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.

♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.

♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 

♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.

♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.

♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.

♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.

♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.

♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.

♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.

♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.

♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.

♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.

♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.

♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.

♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.

♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.

♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.

-

♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.

♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.

♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.

♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.

♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.

♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?

♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.

♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.

♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”

♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.

♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.

♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.

♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.

♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.

♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.

♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.

♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

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[leighsartworks216]

Nyctophobia

Sylus x gn!Reader

I still have to sleep with some sort of light on at night and I was like well what would Sylus think about this. And now here we are

Warnings: hurt/comfort, crying, kissing, nyctophobia (fear of the dark), embarrassment, fear, pet names, swearing, implied sexual content, established relationship

Word Count: 2,153

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You feel so fucking stupid. Not because you did something wrong or made a fool of yourself (yet), but because this dumb problem you had was so childish. Even a 10-year-old is braver than you, a literal fucking Hunter!

You pout at the nightlight on your laptop. Sylus’s black card sat on your coffee table, just waiting to be used. And yet, the thought of using a card with access to millions of dollars (perhaps billions), just to buy a nightlight, halted you in your tracks, He hadn’t even said much about anything else you’ve bought before, and what he did say usually encouraged you to buy more expensive, lavish things. Surely, he wouldn’t flinch at this at all.

But that stupid, unrelenting voice in your head made buying the light impossible.

Which sucked.

It really, really sucked.

‘Cuz every time you stay in the N109 Zone in Sylus’s manor-slash-base, your room is so dark. Being in the lawless area doesn’t help, either. All the violence and danger you’d seen walking in the streets at night painted visions of stalkers in the corner, murderers with knives under your bed, and worse, just waiting for you to close your eyes and sleep.

But you don’t want to impose on the nice atmosphere Sylus has cultivated in his home. So you sleep with the light off, clinging to your blankets and telling yourself over and over again that nobody else is in the room.

Your phone buzzing interrupts your pity party. You shut your laptop and place it on the table next to the card. It buzzes again as you pick it up.

What’s wrong, sweetie?

I’ve only seen you make that face when a plushie falls out of the claw

You look up at your window. Sure enough, Mephisto’s red eyes greet you.

Stop spying on me >:(

Fine

The mechanical crow disappears from sight. You can just barely hear his caws as he flies off back to the N109 Zone.

But my question still stands

It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it

Sweetie, if someone says not to worry about something, people are going to worry about it

Damn him for giving you a chance to tell the truth. And damn your brain for reminding you that if you tell him the truth, he’d probably laugh at you. What does he have to worry about when he sleeps anyway? He’s already a light sleeper, but he also sleeps during the day, when creeps skitter from shadow to shadow. He wouldn’t understand.

Like I said, it’s nothing

Nothing happens for a few moments. The little dots to signify he’s typing don’t even show up. You can’t help wondering what he’s doing. What he’s thinking.

Maybe he’s getting ready to start the night, getting into his car so Luke and Kieran can drive him around to his many business dealings. Or maybe he’s picking out a vinyl from his shelf, taking it from the paper casing with a delicacy only shared with you, and setting it up on his phonograph. Or maybe he’s mimicking you: sitting on the couch, staring at the phone, wondering what to say next.

The dots appear, finally.

Come to the N109 Zone, kitten

Let me cheer you up

If Mephisto was still lurking around, he’d have seen just how fast you packed your things and hopped onto your bike.

Yes, the N109 Zone is dark and scary and extremely dangerous at the best of times. Yes, you’d be forced to sleep in the dark once again. Yes, your mind would play tricks on you and you’d probably stay up all night anyway.

But Sylus is there. And you haven’t seen him for almost a week. Who could blame you for jumping at the opportunity to spend time with him now?

-

Sylus greets you at the door with an amused smirk. “You got here fast.”

You playfully glare at him, smacking his chest as you pass by. “There wasn’t any traffic,” you tease.

The manor is as dark as usual. If it’s not black, it’s dark red. If it’s not dark red, it’s the occasional white furniture or golden accent.

Sylus trails behind you as you beeline it straight to your room to drop off your stuff. He leans in the doorway as you toss your bag onto the plush bed. “You seem to be in a better mood now,” he hums.

“I always feel better when I get to see you.” You smile up at him. It’s a soft remark. Genuine. Not the usual joking, back-and-forth banter you’re usually all too happy to supply during your visits.

His expression melts into something just as tender. Just as honest. He casually pushes himself off the doorframe and crosses the few steps it takes to get to you. His hands cradle you like one of his precious antiques, tilting your face up while he cranes his neck until the world has shrunk to just this moment.

He grins. His eyes keep glancing down at your mouth. You grab onto his waist. Your fingers curl into his soft red sweater, desperate to keep him this close. His lips brush against yours, stealing the air from your lungs.

“Then let me make it worth your while.”

-

It’s still dark when you wake up. The navy blue behind the curtain carries no hint of light, reassuring your sleep-addled brain that there is still plenty of time before day.

You roll over, silk sheets caressing your bare form, fully intending to go right back to sleep. Cold air slips underneath the blanket. You shiver and pull it tighter around you. Without thinking, you reach out toward the other side of the bed. It’s too large for just one person. The bed is cold beneath your fingers, even as you reach out farther.

You blink open your eyes, blearily staring into the darkness, searching for some answer you can quite grasp yet.

What are you reaching for…?

You turn your face into your pillow, determined to ignore that strange feeling in your gut and enjoy the last hours of the night. The rich scent of bourbon and vanilla catch on the edge of your senses. It smells just like Sylus…

You open your eyes again. Where’s Sylus?

Your fingertips brush the edge of the bed as you reach out. A discordant chord of terror strikes in your heart as you quickly pull your hand back. Thoughts of something reaching out to grab you flood your mind. Your heart races, chasing off the last ounces of sleepiness from your body.

You pull the blanket even tighter around you, curling it under your feet and tucking it into your sides until you’re in a cocoon of safety. No matter how hard you strain your eyes, you can’t see anything. But in your mind, everything can see you.

You curl up into a pitiful ball.

You could get up, but you can’t. What if something grabs your ankles?

You could grab your phone, but you can’t. What if something is waiting in ambush and your phone is the bait?

You could do a thousand things to get out of this darkness. But you can’t, for a million reasons.

The door knob slowly turns. The only indication the door has opened at all is the sound of the lower edge brushing against the carpeted floor. No light comes in from the hall. It’s all pitch black. The door clicks shut.

You hold your breath.

Footsteps. Large, heavy footsteps. They don’t stomp. You’re not sure if it would be better if they did. They creep around the side of the bed.

You don’t move.

Weight shifts the mattress. Slowly. Deliberately.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You strain to hear anything else.

Something slides over your blankets.

You squeeze your eyes shut so tight you see spots. You bite your lip to avoid making sound.

The something - a hand, you think - wraps around your waist.

You flinch.

Oh god, oh god, oh god. They’re gonna know you’re awake. They’re gonna cover your mouth or stab you or put a pillow over your face or-

“Kitten?”

Your body shudders as you finally let yourself breathe. You grab your pillow as you quickly sit up and swing it at the face of your lover.

“I thought you were gonna fucking kill me?!”

Sylus laughs, chucking the pillow back onto your side of the bed. You can’t see him in the dark, but your body can’t stop taking in every ounce of him that it can. His smell - the bourbon and vanilla tinged with a natural musk. His voice - that rich, lively sound of his laugh and the breaths he takes. His touch - his hand, trailing patterns over the blanket at your hip.

You crawl toward him, clinging to his chest like a koala. He’s still shirtless from your escapades. His hand slides to your back, pulling you in tighter to him. You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. You press your ear against him to hear more.

“Why would you think that?” he asks once he’s gathered himself.

You don’t answer. You squeeze him tighter.

“Sweetie?” The amusement is replaced with concern. His other arm wraps around you. The muscles tense with the slightest effort. He says your name.

Relief settles heavy in your bones. Tears prick at your eyes, while you remain utterly powerless to stop them. “It’s too dark,” you whimper. It’s all you can think to say.

His arms tighten around you as he rolls onto his back, pulling you on top of him like you weigh nothing. He begins playing with your hair. “Does it scare you?” he asks softly.

You nod. You pull one of your hands out from around him to wipe the tears off your face and his chest.

God, you feel so fucking pathetic.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

You don’t answer. His chest rises and falls with you on it, moving with his sigh. He pulls your hand away from your face and replaces it around him. You want to fight it. Complain about how gross it is to get all your tears on him. But he shushes you gently and you can’t find the strength to try.

“Do you want to go downstairs?”

You nod again.

The world shifts as he sits up with you. He pries you off of him so he can stand up, but he doesn’t go far. He grabs his sweater off the ground and helps you put it on. Then he goes through your dresser for some clean underwear. He helps you stand and slides them on. You don’t open your eyes. You don’t want to see the darkness. So you hold onto his shoulders. You put all your trust into him, and he refuses to betray it.

He lifts you into his arms like you’re a damn princess. Usually, he’d throw you over his shoulder, but not this time. This time he’s careful, treating you with the utmost care as he carries you down the stairs and to the living room. With a wave of his fingers, the lights turn on, black and red left in its wake.

“It’s not dark anymore,” he promises as he sits down. You keep your face safely tucked into his neck. He rests his cheek on your head. His fingers go back to your hair. His other hand rubs patterns against your bare thigh.

After a while, your terror finally dissipates completely. You can see the light shining through your closed eyelids. Feel its subtle warmth against your skin. When you find the strength to open your eyes, the warm, comfortable ambiance of Sylus’s home greets you once more.

You use the sleeve of his sweater to wipe at your face. “I’m sorry.” Your voice cracks. You cringe with embarrassment. “It’s stupid, I know.”

He hums noncommittally. “Is this what you were telling me not to worry about?” he asks instead.

You nod. “I was looking at… at nightlights,” you admit in a murmur.

“What kind?”

“Hm?” You pull back to look up at him. He lets you, meeting your gaze with a soft seriousness. “What d’you mean?”

He smirks slightly, eyebrow quirking upward. “I mean, what kind of nightlight would you like, sweetie? Fairy lights, a wall light, one of those animal-shaped ones that glows…”

You frown and look away. “You’re teasing me, aren’t you?”

“I’m asking,” he cups your cheek and guides your face to look at him, “so I can buy you one. Now, will you tell me, or do I have to buy every single nightlight on the market?”

You laugh despite yourself. “I have it pulled up on my laptop…”

He grins. “Good.” He pulls you into a chaste kiss. “Don’t hesitate to buy it next time. Or to tell me what’s wrong. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a sad kitten.”

---

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[drdemonprince]

is there a reason a lot of transmascs and trans men gravitate towards puppy play/pup related kink? it’s something i’ve noticed on the online trans community

It's not a transmasc specific thing at all. Pup play's stock is up in a massive way across a variety of communities for several reasons.

Pup play's popularity began with the gay male community, where it largely originated. Most of the major manufacturers of pup play gear are still gay men's fetishwear companies, and the kink has been enjoyed in that scene for decades because it evokes a kind of soft masculine playfulness and a gentle power dynamic, with potential elements of deindividuation and primalness that speak to a variety of people.

(It also gives men an opportunity to be tender with one another in a way that doesn't evoke gendered baggage of casting any partner as "the woman," or as less of a "man," and that also I think lent it massive appeal. )

The gay male kink community tends to have a lot more money and access to more clubs and venues than other queer communities do, and so we see a lot of experimentation and trendy-ness in its kink scene. Lots of guys have the expendable income to buy up new gear, and dungeons to play with them in. Because of this, sexual trends move quickly in the gay male world -- piss similarly had a deluge of popularity in recent years, and hypno as well. Chastity too, and now latex. Anything new and exciting that you can buy, wear, and play with will have its moment in the scene, and sprout a whole new cottage industry around it. Once the gay male dollars are flowing in, a whole kink economy forms.

As pup play was becoming a more widespread gay male kink activity, furries caught onto it as an alternative to the more expensive and cumbersome fursuiting. This has been VERY noticeable as someone who has been attending Midwest Furfest continuously since 2017. The first few years that I was going, I never saw any pup hoods (and friends who have been in the scene far longer than me have echoed this as well). There just wasn't an overlap between pups and furs much at all.

Now at furry events, there is a MASSIVE contingent of pups, and many events centered on pups and pup play. Everywhere you go at the conventions you will see hoards of pups roving around with their owners, and vendors of pup gear peddling tails, collars, muzzles, hoods, hand mitts, leashes, and more.

Compared to fursits, pup hoods are cheaper, easier to clean, easier to find, less prone to damage, more comfortable to wear, lighter weight, and can be snapped onto a belt loop or fanny pack and carried around all day. Yet it still provides an animalistic appearance and anonymity, and the ability to play with an inhuman headspace. Furries flocked to pup hoods because it had a low barrier to entry -- just $50 or so for a headpiece, many of the models customizable in a variety of colors. You can even use your pup hood color to flag what you are into!

After pup play exploded across the furry scene, it got exposed naturally to a larger contingent of trans people. Lots of furries are trans people, and vice versa, and so pup hoods spread from the Rockets and Mittens to the Aidans and Cassandras of the world with ease. Even people who aren't furries or especially kinky now find pup play adorable, for it taps into a lot of existing kinks that are also really popular right now.

We're in a zeigest that emphasizes softness and comfort, and the longing for escape from the capitalist grind and the world's horrors -- people are listening to womblike music in softly lit rooms with the curtains drawn and fantasizing about becoming stay-at-home girlfriends and cottagecore boywifes and shit.

Becoming an adored puppy who sexually services their owner in return for pets and snacks and never has to work a day in their life is highly appealing to a TON of people. Some of them, indeed, are trans guys. But if you explore the fetish and porn worlds widely (as I do), you'll see that pup play has also become massively popular among cishet people too!

Puppy girl Jenna is a massive Tiktok and OnlyFans phenomenon! Even the most basic of ahegaoing chicks on redgifs are wearing muzzles and tail butt plugs! Everybody is into puppy play right now because it is an accessible, nonthreatening, cutesy kink that allows people to envision themselves existing safely within a comforting power dynamic where they can be adored and all their problems are gone. Lots of headspacey, cuddly, escapist kinks like Bimbo have become popular for these reasons too.

And there you have it! From the early days in the leather bars to today's era of cage tours on Tiktok, pup play is very much IN with just about every sexually adventurous crowd. This has been the devon price kink stock report.

[weaselle]

It's almost thanksgiving, and I want to talk about dogs and bones.

It took me forever to understand why I couldn't give bones to our dogs because no one ever explained it, and i was like "but wolves and coyotes and foxes and things totally eat bones all the time, i've seen tons of footage of wild canines eating bones" and it never made sense. But now it does and i want to help anyone who is where i was with this

There are 3 reasons not to give your dog bones

First mother canines (and any other relatives present) typically do actually demonstrate for puppies the proper way to eat bones, which can vary from prey type to prey type. For example, bird bones can be tricky and dangerous, even the raw ones splinter more easily because of the way they are structured to be semi-hollow. Wild canines get shown how to eat these things. You can't really do that for your dog.

Second bones can have unknown microbes and parasites, and between that and bone ingestion being a skill check, now and then wild canines do actually die of complications from either eating the wrong bone, or eating a bone wrong.

But the MAIN reason is - if the bones are cooked it changes them.

see, most raw bones tend to break the same way safety glass breaks, into crumbly chunks, like so

but COOKING the bones changes their physical composition

so after you cook a bone, if you break it, it's much more likely to give you long sharp shapes like this

So a wolf, or your dog, munching happily on whatever, a deer bone, is getting crumbly chunks of bone kibble. But if you cook that same bone they're going to be swallowing thin sharp splinters of deadly bone instead.

Yes, a lot of dogs can slowly digest bone material, but if a single sharp shard pierces your dog's stomach, or gods forbid their intestine! before the bone starts to melt enough... then their digestive enzymes and waste material (basically acid sewage) can get into the rest of their body. This can cause lots of bad problems right up to causing terminal sepsis -- which is where your body tries so hard to kill a bad infection that it kills your own organs. Like if those bees in Japan were trying to kill a hornet so hard they made it too hot for the bees to live either.

Even the surgery to fix it is sometimes the cause of death for a dog; it's invasive surgery, no matter how careful they are it's still another opportunity for infection to get a direct line into the core of your dog. They use anesthesia to keep the dog asleep during surgery and the chances of the dog straight up dying from the anesthesia itself are low... but they aren't zero. And it's not like an anatomy book in there, it's a messy difficult thing to do, cutting and stitching around in there.

Your dog can eat a cooked bone and be fine 19 times and die on the 20th. Or 8th. Or 37th. Or your dog could die on the first one.

It's a total roll of the dice on their life.

Now, if you really really want to give your dog bones for reasons that aren't because you made a dinner that has bones (I did-- when Badger was a puppy I tried to give him all the parts of animals I could to make sure he was getting access to the same nutrients a wild canine would get and have all the taste and chew experiences a wild canine would have, as much as possible) that's fine.

Just do good research and either work with a butcher to get fresh good quality bones or buy bones that are meant for dogs by companies who have to worry about being sued if they sell dangerous bones. I used to get Badger these, uh, i think they were sheep kneecaps, and also some kind of rib bones, idk it was 10 years ago, but i got them from pet supply companies for dogs. Oxtails and deer trachea too. If you want to give your dog bones and animal parts, there are hundreds of ways to do that safely.

Don't give them random raw bones from preparing your dinner unless you've researched it heavily and are being specific and careful - remember, you can't demonstrate the best way to eat those bones they way momma wolf could. If giving the dog the bones from making your dinner is important to you for some reason (i could understand a life bonding thing or something, honoring the ancient pact between our kinds or whatever) then just make sure you're choosing the right dinners for that to be okay for your dog. I would say even do home experiments and crush the kind of raw bones you want to feed to your dog with shears and hammers and things to see what you're letting your dog swallow.

And don't forget you're cooking away any microbes that might be on it when you eat it, but all your dog gets is its own immune system. It is in some ways better at raw food than yours, but it's still just one lone immune system in a world full of mites and bacteria and viruses and little eggs that hatch inside your body. Cooking kills all those things, but makes the bones dangerous for dogs. So, make sure you're getting high quality bones, like from a place you'd feel safe eating the meat from raw, we're talking sushi quality meat. Don't just give your dog random raw bones from your dinner, unless you have done the work to make sure you're doing it safely

BUT ESPECIALLY DO NOT GIVE YOUR DOG COOKED BONES

this has been a PSA, thank you

[writers-potion]

hi!! could we get a list of unique character traits? things like: sweet-tooth, really loves glittery/sparkly eyeshadow, etc. thank you!

List of Interesting Character Traits

Physical

Wearing thick, red eyeliner all the time

Paints each fingernail a different color

Wears an eye patch to look cool

Wears hoodies all the time

Has two identical tattoos, in different locations

Wears fake glasses of various colors

Has n number of same shirts, maybe in different colors

Loves to wear only green

Never goes out without wearing heels

Like to wear flowers/floral scent

Only yellow lamps in their room

Non-Physical

Feeling sleepy after drinking coffee because caffeine does nothing for you and you've just had something warm

Being addicted to childhoos snakes even as an adult and flexing them in bulk now that you don't have you mum to shout at you

Keeping Christmas lights up all year

Huge fan of horror movies because they're genuinely fun

Likes to go out barefoot

Uses empty wine bottles as flower vases

Unlit cigar in their mouth all the time

Chews on the neck of shirts

Listens to songs in languages they can't understand

Loves sweet stuff but will only drink zero coke to cur calories

Has a large gallery of cat/dog photos but doesn't own a pet

Doesn't sweat

Chews gum all the time

Puts water on ceral instead of milk

Types in all caps in chat rooms

Drives barefoot

Likes to eat everything frozen

Wierd Character Traits/Habits

*trigger warning : some of these are embarrassing/dirty, but hey, haven't we all done this at least once...? (please tell me I'm not the only one)

(for characters with long hair) Pulling out a strand of hair stuck between your buttcheeks after a shower

Playing with your breasts as you sit at your desk studying

Lacing your fingers through your toes

Letting that one, wierdly long hair on your toe grow - aka "Lucky Hair"

Smelling your floss string after using it

Scrunching your nose because your nose hairs aren't in the right position somehow(?)

Cutting their own hair with a pair of scissors...even pubic hair

+ I really hope this helps since I nearly died of embarassment writing the last bit haha

─── ･ ｡ﾟ���: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

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[garpond]

happy birthday to neil young here are some of my favorite things about him

-by the age of 20 he had owned 3 different used hearses, all of which experienced some form of extreme mechanical failure that caused him to have to get rid of them

-in buffalo springfield whenever he had to go out on a date with a girl he'd tell his friends about it beforehand so that they could interrupt the date to tell him he needed to be somewhere and was late so that he could be allowed to leave

-hated going in grocery stores because he would get overstimulated and have to leave

-didn't like how the first pressing of Comes A Time sounded so he bought 200,000 of the first copies of it and used them as shingles for a barn roof

-when one of his tour buses was destroyed (i forget how) he had it brought to his ranch and buried on the property like a beloved family pet

-his early ambition before music was to be a chicken farmer

-when he and carrie snodgress where dating she'd have a ton of people over sometimes and it gave him anxiety so one evening he decided to open the living room window and crawl out of it to get away from people instead of walking through the room to get to the door because apparently he couldn't wait that long and everyone saw it

-another time he randomly showed up at a neighbors' house and they didn't really know why he dropped in all of the sudden because he wasn't very social and it turns out it was because his manager had set up a meeting for him with the band America and he didn't want to do it so he was hiding

-during buffalo springfield he would hide in peoples closets a lot

-once he was guitar shopping with stephen stills and when he was offering on a guitar stephen offered more money on it to try and get it and it pissed him off so he started bidding higher to kick off a bidding war between then and once it was up to a ridiculous amount of money he just dropped it and was like ok you win lol ! and stephen had to pay an insane amount of money for it

-during one filmed interview with MTV or something he decided to fuck with them by adjusting the position of his hat super slightly every couple seconds so that when they cut the footage together and shifted things out of order it would look confusingly different every time

-during the recording of deja vu he lived by himself in a motel but he brought his 2 pet bush babies (named Harriet and Speedy) and they scared the shit out of Graham Nash

-gave a stranger he met like a week ago unrestricted access to his finances because the guy claimed he was going to help him buy a boat and the guy ended up stealing a couple thousand dollars

-during last buffalo springfield concert he was the only person who was not even remotely sad and on the way home jim messina was literally crying and neil was just like :] the whole way

-one year on his birthday at the ranch there was going to be a party and it was a tradition to have a bonfire at it so he went out into the woods to get sticks for it but somehow managed to grab a bunch of poison oak and it was used at the fire and after that he was not allowed to gather bonfire sticks anymore

-while filming the lincvolt documentary he met a trans woman and when he was interviewing her to ask for her opinion about the car she told him that what he was doing with it was a big change and he should probably ask for the car's permission to do it and he actually did do this later

-"everybodys rockin" originated as an r/maliciouscompliance type of project because while he was on geffen records Old Ways was rejected and the label asked for a "rock and roll album" and this was his response to that

-the infamous Eat A Peach incident

-there is much more but this is all i can come up with rn

[cherryslyce]

Holding Hands With Shadows | Tom Riddle

Synopsis: Being the Minister of Magic was not easy for Tom, but you are always there to keep chaos from erupting. OR, you are Tom's assistant and the babysitter of the group and Tom finally confesses.

Pairing: Tom Riddle x Reader

Notes: Not canon compliant (sane!Tom, no Voldemort), Abraxas keeps insulting orphans, Y/N is tired (Knights of Walpurgis? More like Kids of Walpurgis)

You could almost feel the grey hairs sprouting from your head, and not even in a fun, attractive way either. It was a wonder you hadn't even thought about drafting up your letter of resignation until right now.

"Abraxas, you may not buy out that land to raise your peacocks. The Department of Care for Magical Children plan to use it for future projects."

Tom shoots you an amused look from across the room, lips quirked up into a smirk at your exasperated tone. The infuriating man was leaning back in his armchair, far too at ease, as you tried to restrain yourself from slamming your head through the table.

"Frankly, that just seems like a waste of good resources. I mean why do they need it so bad? Could they not just simply find another plot? After all, these children grew up in austere conditions, so they won't even miss it."

"Abraxas."

"Yes?"

"Get out."

"Excuse--"

"Now. Please."

The man looks over to his best friend for help, but Tom simply shrugs as if conceding that you were the one in charge.

"Fine. However, this conversation is far from over. I will see you both tonight, yes?"

"Of course. Safe travels, and please send Lady Malfoy my regards."

The man sends you a pleased nod before twirling on his heels, his cloak billowing dramatically. The door clicks shut behind him just as you drop your face into your hands.

"Stressed, darling?"

You huff and rub your forehead before answering with more bite than intended, "Perfectly fine".

The insufferable man, as unbothered as always, lets out a noise of amusement before slowly striding towards your desk. You slowly raise your head as his shadow falls over you, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, fire off your best hex at me and put me out of my misery."

"Abraxas‘ dramatics has rubbed off on you, my love."

The pet name sends a shiver down your spine and you try your hardest to school your expression. You had grown up with Tom at the orphanage, which basically made you his closest confidant, friend, and ally. At times it felt like you were a breathing, judgmental diary to him.

You were privy to all that was bad and ugly in his life, so it was only right that you were by his side when he rose to power and suddenly had access to all the material goods in the world.

And to him--whatever he had, you had by extension.

Of course, you fought tooth and nail to get to where you were now, rebuking any effort Tom made to give you preferential treatment.

Everything would be fine if it weren't for your affections toward him. Growing up, he never expressed interest in pursuing a romantic relationship, he had only ever wanted to subvert the stereotypes and malice aimed at the both of you during your years at Hogwarts.

The closest thing to romance that you could associate Tom with was when he wooed Druella Rosier in sixth year with his signature smile and a kiss to her hand in order to siphon information about her father from her.

The poor girl was an inconsolable lump of misery after Tom got what he needed and tossed her aside like a used handkerchief.

Tom's always been romantically inept like that.

Your spiral of reminiscing didn't cease, not even when you and Tom showed up to Malfoy Manor for their annual ball later that night.

When would it be socially acceptable to turn tail and run?

"Assistant L/N! What a pleasure it is! Is the minister trekking about nearby?"

You spin from looking out the window and come face to face with an older man who you recognized from around the Department of Magical Games and Sports.

His vest hugged him tightly and only served to accentuate his red, puffy face.

Was he about to hit on you or try and kiss your ass so he could get acquainted with Tom?

Merlin. Did you have enough in your savings to retire yet?

"Good evening. I believe Tom is busy discussing foreign deals with Lord Greengrass."

"Ah yes, Cyrus Greengrass is quite ingenious. You and Minister Riddle were friends with him during school, yes?"

Your lip twitched at how casual he was addressing Cyrus. Cyrus would be disconcerted by the man's informality, but Abraxas would surely become vexed on his friend's behalf if he heard.

"Yes. We are childhood friends I suppose."

"Wonderful! Well I was coming to you because I'm sure you're aware that the rules for Quidditch are being tossed into the air. The Ministro di Magia in Italy is trying to--"

You started tuning him out and looked around the room for one of your friends, starting to sweat in the formal wear you had on.

Luckily, Tom caught your eye. Unfortunately, he had somehow rounded up all of your friends and they were all looking quite entertained at your expense.

"Sorry sir. If you'll excuse me, it seems that the Minister is in need of me."

Without waiting for a response, you chugged what was left in your champagne flute before practically stomping over to the circle of men.

As you neared, Tom stepped out to welcome you, encircling a hand around your waist like it was the most casual thing in the world.

"Good evening boys. Thank you for throwing me out to the wolves."

"Y/N! So I assume this would be a bad time to try and renegotiate the land you're throwing away to those orphans."

Bloody hell, he was forgetting that he was saying that in front of two orphans.

Without answering Abraxas, you turned to Tom and let out a sigh, "I'm handing in my letter of resignation tomorrow, I promise it".

The hand around your waist tightened ever so slightly and you ignored the amused looks your friends sent each other, having picked up on your little school girl crush on Tom eons ago.

Damn them.

"Now, now, don't make hasty decisions. I could simply smite Abraxas‘ peacocks and the problem would be solved."

Abraxas let out an undignified noise while Parkinson and Bulstrode snorted into their drinks. Cyrus patted Abraxas‘ shoulder in feign pity, but he knew that Tom would likely make good on his threat if you asked him to.

"I hate you all. How is it that even after all these years, I still feel like an underpaid, underappreciated nanny."

Abraxas looked offended at your words and quickly reassured you, "We love you though. Underpaid, yes. Underappreciated? Never."

Your banter with the group went on for a while longer and as the night started coming to a close, Tom steered you away from peering eyes and towards a vacant balcony.

"Are you alright, darling?"

You only nodded tiredly to the man, leaning your elbows on the railing. You rubbed your eyes as you could sense the man behind you shifting in uncertainty (which was so uncharacteristic of him that you had half the mind to pull out your wand and threaten him to tell you where the real Tom was).

A few beats of peaceful silence pass before you're jumping up at the feeling of hands coming to hug your waist, a hard chest pressing against your back.

"Tom--?"

His chin gently rested atop of your shoulder, loosening his grip slightly to give you the opportunity to push him away.

"Are you unusually more clueless nowadays or are you purposely torturing me?"

"You're going to have to elaborate. Did you accidentally kill someone or do something I would disapprove of? This affection is quite sudden."

"But you don't hate it. Quite the contrary."

"That confidence of yours is going to get you into trouble one day."

"If it's you, I don't mind the trouble."

You don't bother responding, but your silence was satisfactory enough for him.

Clearing your throat, you awkwardly move your hands to rest atop of his, patting them gently.

It felt like the world spun on its head and was reborn anew before Tom spoke again, "Marry me."

His words threw you for a loop and you sputtered a choked, "What?"

"Marry me. I mean we're practically married anyway. You flounder around and make sure the boys are okay, and I rein them in so they don't blow up the country and make me lose face."

"Yes. We are a true dynamic duo."

Your dry response has his chest rumbling in contained laughter, tilting his head and gently knocking it against your cheek.

"We're the parents of the group, haven't you noticed? Abraxas asked me a few days ago if we would end their suffering and ours by just wedding each other."

"I was not aware we were even dating."

"Dating--being partners-- would not even come close to what we are. Don't you feel the same? We are in sync in everything we do. Even hundreds of miles apart, I breathe as you breathe, my heart beats in rhythm with yours, my mind does not simply revolve around you--it is completely infused with your every essence. It is a wonder we aren't already married with three cats."

"Three cats," Tom despised cats, "But...yes, I feel the same. You know I do. I thought that...well, I thought you weren't interested in romance."

"I am interested in pursuing anything and everything with you. Only you. If you'll have me, of course."

Your laughter comes out wet and heavy, filled with relief and disbelief. You turn your gaze upward and watch as the stars blink down on you, permeated across the sky the same way love begins to flow through your veins.

"It was always you, Tom. Thank you for telling me."

Tom pulls back briefly before gently turning you around to face him.

He leans down and nuzzles his nose against yours, eyes conveying a tender emotion that you've never seen until now. But now you knew, every time in the past when his eyes flickered across your face and softened, it was out of love.

"Tell me you'll marry me."

You don't give him a verbal response, but as you press your lips to his, he knows that domesticity together is all the both of you have ever needed.

"Tom...does this mean we have to make Abraxas the best man now?"

"Don't be silly, he'll give us no choice in the matter."

(And give them no choice, he did)

masterlist

[simp-ly-writes]

Dressing Up for the Role

─────── · · The Professionals

Pairing: Russell Adler x Fem!Spy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You and Adler are husband and wife on paper yet you both need to appear the part. You take on the city for the elements to make your relationship appear authentic: rings, clothes, and chemistry? Well that couldn't be right... and who the hell is this "Bell" person Adler always flicks past... a continuation of this.

─ · · TAGS: no use of (y/n), non-canon compliant, flirting, use of pet names, teasing, fluff, only one bed trope at the end, Adler being a bit on an ass (but we love him for it).

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 1,826

─ · · A/N: I had to stop myself so many times from writing, "and then they kiss" lmao. Let me know what y'all think. Thank you for the support on the introductory part!

─────── · ·

Two days left was all you had with your new "husband," to make yourselves seem like you had been married for years. You both had rented a camera to make sure you had pictures of your "honeymoon" ready if anyone searched your bags or took a look at your wallets.

You had decided on a picture of you both in the local Park underneath the multi-coloured tree's, the other an image of Adler smoking out on the balcony while casting you a wink. Adler had yet to show you the picture he placed in his wallet and teased you every time you asked saying it was the worst picture possible so that other's wouldn't get jealous- you did not know weather to be offended or thankful.

The day would be packed full of clothes shopping, speed get-to-know one another lunch dates where more than twenty question rounds were asked to ensure that any question directed towards each other or your relationship could be answered or deflected with ease.

─────── · ·

You were in the fitting room, trying on various outfits for your trip. Needing thicker clothes for colder climate than you were about to be operating in. Adler was in a chair outside your door, a large mirrored room to see every angle of the fabric draped against your body.

Leaning back against the leather that groaned more than he did. Adler rose his pointer finger, twirling it around and watched as the fabric of your dress spun with your shoes before falling back to the floor. You smiled watching as the glasses slipped down his nose. "You look very nice but we do need clothes for six months not six weeks and we are running out of daylight."

"Well its not like these dresses have super accessible zippers or anything! Takes me a solid ten minutes to just get out of the fucking things since you waved the associate away!" you argued with a pointed finger at his chest.

Adler stood before placing a hand on your hip, reaching up and around to slowly unzip the fabric from your body as to not catch any or your skin. "No harm in asking for help, you know that?"

"Not when the help gets all preachy, Adler," you retort, "but thank you." Holding the front of your dress up you run back to the fitting room, a smile dusting against your lips as your heart fluttered in your chest.

─────── · ·

Throughout the day, you had to consistently remember that the information you were getting out of your husband was not for just your ears and the guilt only built in your gut as Adlers answers slowly went from satirical to genuine as the day progressed.

You could sense the hidden truth underneath the smiles and cigarettes he would present to you behind closed smiles and doors. Telling you about the team he had back at home and the slip of the name, "Bell," that was never mentioned again.

Looking through the database while Adler was out buying another box of cigarettes and lunch for the day, you had yet to find anything for a member under the CIA with that codename or a mission of any kind.

This point lingered at the back of your head as he told you his days during the Vietnam war and you were most surprised over your third cup of coffee that day that he had a wife before you. In actuality, you forgot just how long you both had been working in the field for that it was silly of you to think of yourself as the only one... if only a fake one.

Smiling and nodding along, Adler raised a brow at your drop in reaction to a concealed one- you hated that he could instantly pick up on your tricks and perfected charisma you thought to have mastered over the years. "Have something you want to say?"

"Nothing, just... was this "Bell" person your wife?"

Adler laughed harder than you had ever seen before yet it felt distantly hollow as you shrunk back into your chair as he leaned forwards onto the table. "No, though we wouldn't have been far off if things worked... differently."

You both let the words sit in the tension-filled air, unsure of how to continue conversation you decided to end it all together and move on to the next activity. "Ready to get married, old man?"

"Thought we already were?"

"Not without a ring on your finger, we arn't"

─────── · ·

Wedding band shopping had taken a majority of the afternoon as Adler had to keep up a pleased facade as you hung off his arm, smiling widely and rubbing up and down his arm while speaking with the consultant.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself, honey," Adler commented with an overly sweet tone yet after the few hours that you had known the man. Those sweet-toned words were heavy with sarcasm, his eyes appearing dead underneath his shades that he insisted upon wearing- even indoors.

"Well, honey," you add just as if not more sweetly back, "I want to make sure we have the most authentic and delicate piece on your finger to make everyone know we're together." Adler chuckles, smiling while glaring daggers at the side of your head as you laugh with the consultant who is practically leaning over the display case to converse with you.

A sudden hand falling from your arm down to your waist is a comforting weight as your attention shifts back over. Adler pulls you back slightly to his side so that you stand up-right before leaning down and whispering in your ear, "we do plan on paying for these right? Don't need you sweetening the deal with anything with wandering eyes."

You look up at Adler, eyebrow raised in question, "and here I thought you wanted a good deal?"

"Not my money, honey. I could care less about what you spend the budget on as long as we both make it back with majority of our pieces." you nod with a shrug. "We'll take these thank you."

The consultant blinks before smiling, "yes, let me ring these up for you two." Adler had yet to take a hand off your back until you both were a block away from the store before offering you his arm.

─────── · ·

Arriving back at the hotel, you ordered room service for dinner on the balcony before going over the plan for tomorrow. You both would be boarding a commercial plane, a car waiting to take you to an empty apartment across from the venue you would be attending to gain more information on the Russians space plans. An insider under the name red-gloves had slipped the information to your agency saying that this was a cover for the missiles they were building.

There would be five people you would be on the look out for, the Space Agency Director, his wife (and mistresses attending), the directors assistant, and surprisingly enough, a USA ambassador that was supposed to have returned a year ago.

Adler nodded along to the information as you wrapped a blanket over yourself, the wind catching and picking up as a few napkins threatened to join the breeze. A sudden clicking sound had you looking over to watch as your husband lit a cigarette, offering it to you before lighting another one for himself.

You both sat there in silence overlooking the city below you before stuffing out your cigarette and closing your eyes for a moment. You knew that this would be your bit of peace before the act actually started but in this moment, life felt so natural in an odd way as you began to understand why people did this, got married, so much so that you didn't realize yourself drifting away.

─────── · ·

"Hey, hey," Adler shook your gently before snapping his fingers in your face. You had not moved, instead burrowing further into his side with a smile- he scoffed. Flicking the bud burning his fingers to the ground and pressing it out he rolled you up in the blanket before picking you up in his arms and bringing you towards the bed.

He watched as your head found the pillow, debating of weather or not to move the covers on top as well, he decided against it but before he could step away from the mattress. Your hand gripped his shirt. "Stay."

"I'm not your husband just your co-worker," Adler retorted watching as you slowly woke back up from the change in temperature.

"I know that and I also know how miserable you were complaining about your back hurting all throughout the day. Now lay the fuck down, Russell Adler and get some good rest. I need my co-worker, work-ready in the morning not a grumpy husband, right?" you said back before rolling over to the other side and flicking the lamp off, "Goodnight."

Adler stood at the side of the bed, shaking his head. He couldn't believe you spitting his words right back at him before shrugging off his shirt before crawling underneath the covers.

─────── · ·

Waking up, you were surprised to find your pillow and blanket had changed as you head rested upon Adlers chest- his arm your blanket before you were leaning over the sleeping man to slam the alarm back to sleep. "Morning, sunshine," you teased, stretching in a groggy tone, bones cracking as Russell deeply groaned. The sound going directly through your spine with a shiver watching as Adler rose, his back flexing as he stood and reached down for his shirt while turning around you got a glimpse of his stomach before it was hidden away.

"If you keep looking at me like that, you'll get sick of me before the mission even starts, wife," Adler says before turning towards the kitchenette for a cup of coffee.

Rolling your eyes and falling back underneath the covers you could hear Adler shaming you from the next room. "Don't make me pull you out of that bed. It was your idea for us to make the earliest flight, sweetheart."

"Then do it and see what happens," you commented playfully yet tone coated in a sarcastic flair. "I think you'd be into it from what you were telling me yesterday," Adler says with a laugh before walking back into the room, two mugs in hand.

You silently take a mug, glaring as you bring it up to your lips to cover your heated cheeks. Adler looks out the window, hair tousled as he stretches his neck, fingers twitching for nicotine in the morning.

You watch the way the suns rays gently cast upon the gold locks of hair wanting nothing more than to stand and feel the softness of it underneath your fingertips.

"I thought we went over the starring thing already."

"Fuck off, Adler."

"Now thats more like it."

─────── · ·

[bludhavens-finest]

Ok so this is the biggest blog I have so I will be talking about it here, also comics have always been inherently political so it makes sense to talk about here, this will be posted to the rest of my blogs as well

I’m going to tag this with tw’s, if you don’t want to see more shit about the election I get it believe me I do, that’s fine. If you do stay around I’m going to be incredibly blunt about this shit

1. Do not fucking kill yourself. The amount of queer and especially young people I have seen saying that they are going to is astronomical, these people are not worth loosing your life. If you need help, get help, talk to someone, at the end of this post I’ll add numbers/websites

2. If you are disabled like me, and you need something medically whether that be vaccines, surgeries, procedures, mobility aids, medications, or even certain information; get them now while you can. The medical system in America is a bitch to deal with and even harder to get into, most of my appointments take at least three months, but if you can get in and get things done before they switch who’s in office, get it done now.

3. If you are trans and planning to get gender affirming surgery or healthcare in the next few months same goes for you, get the surgeries while you still can and get on meds now, if you get on them now it’s going to be easier to keep the prescription for as long as you can.

4. If you’re a woman or afab, get birth control while you can. Because they are going to get rid of birth control at this point, they’ve already gone after abortions and this is the next step.

5. But queer/feminist/punk media and books while you still can, because yes they can and will ban books they already do it in schools

6. Honestly I would even go so far as to say start buying physical copies of certain bands if you can, because most hardcore and just regular punk bands will probably be less accessible

7. Honestly probably just get a vpn at this point, I know you’ve gotten an ad for one from a YouTuber before, look into the company’s, find one you can afford and like

8. If non-Americans or even just some Americans who are republicans (which if you are fuck off.) think this is an over-exaggeration it’s really not.

America is the only first world country without universal healthcare, most people in this country either die waiting for a doctor, die because of a doctor (medical negligence and malpractice are leading causes of death in America, over a quarter of a million people die a year because of it.), public transit is non-existent, disabled people have been fighting for our rights for decades, women lost the right to control their own bodies after having that right for less then a life span. Many woman were there when roe v wade passed and still alive when it was overturned. Because it all happened in the span of 50 years. The amount of violence in our police departments (that are only getting more and more funding), the lack of education and lack of historically accurate information taught in public schools, the literal fucking constant brainwashing campaigns.

This is all coming from someone who is Afab, a Minor, living in the south, mentally and physically disabled, a lesbian, and trans. Believe me I understand how fucking scared people are.

It is 2024 almost 2025, not 1970. You have access to information and you are entitled to being informed, so inform yourself. Check your own sources, do your own research.

I’m well aware that this all seems fucking dystopian, I know that it seems like there’s no point, but keep yourself safe. If you need a break from seeing all this filter your tags, go outside for a while, get off the internet, play with your pets, talk to friends. Just don’t let yourself sit in this and worry yourself to death, it’s not going to help anyone.

Numbers you can call: 1-866-488-7386 (Trevor project), If you go to their website you can also text if talking isn’t safe, 988 (suicide and crisis line),

[bethanydelleman]

I want to advocate for "do it lazy", because I see a lot of "do it badly" posts, but I think specifically with gardening, people are told they need to do it perfectly to succeed but no, you can make a lot of food with a half-effort.

Here is my garden:

It is so full of weeds I cannot even, but, look at all these peas!

I grew those! I just put seeds in the ground and watered them a few times and half-weeded. It worked out great!

This is my currant bush (asparagus in the back). Last year I made 6 jars of jam and a cake out of them. It just basically grows on it's own now. I also grow strawberries, something that also just mostly does it own thing and I prune occasionally:

I also grow herbs and they bloom really prettily:

(this is a chive and a sage) Now serious gardeners will tell you not to let them bloom for max production, but they still taste fine and they look nice and feed bees, so I just let them do their thing.

I grow tomatoes for sauce (picture right), basil for pesto (picture left), asparagus (comes up all on it's own now), potatoes, watermelon, cucumbers, and broccoli as well.

I have both a front and backyard garden (that little strip of tomatoes and peas is the backyard) because I think growing grass is dumb. I don't start my own seedlings indoors, for a combination of pet, kid, window, and time issues, I just buy seedlings. It did take a lot of effort one year to build my garden, but now it's pretty low maintenance. I have chickens so I put their waste in the garden as fertilizer. I water if it looks really dry.

So anyway, my point is, you can grow food. You can do it without investing your whole life into it. I admire my friend's and my dad's beautiful weeded and better planned garden, but mine does work and I spend like 10% of the time they do. Do it lazy! Eat some delicious home grown food.

(I am very lucky to own a house with a yard. I have also grown gardens in apartment buildings, using pots. My chive has actually travelled with me throughout my university career, often in a pot. You can grow a little herb garden or some cherry tomatoes on a windowsill. You may also be able to access a community garden if your city has that available.)

[misstycloud]

Yandere prisoner HC

Imagine a yandere prisoner who had been locked inside one of the most notorious prisons in the world. His crimes succeeds any other and he was heavily punished by being left to rot away inside his cold cell.

There he sits shackled to the dirty ground for years on end. The long metal chain was still long enough to walk around, but they were restraints no less to make sure he stayed out. Without any sort of entertainment exceeding his own thoughts, which weren’t so bad if they were filled of you.

You were his only solace, his light, his love; the one person to bring him a share of harmony. When he was scorned by people, you stood at his side. When he was mistreated, you tended to him and healed the wounds. When they called him a liar, you believed him.

Oh how he wished to be out there together with you, never to be separated.

The reality was harsh, and he had no choice but to face it head on; he was confined in a dusty cell, while you were outside living in the sun that he hadn’t gotten a glimpse of for years now.

The criminal has made numerous attempts of escaping his penitentiary but none were successful and remained stuck, without a way to see you. It took a great toll on him, not getting to be in your presence for so long.

He wondered how you were doing. Did you buy a nice house? Do you have a pet that you love dearly? Perhaps you’ve finally managed to get your hands on that rare limited edition tea-set you always wanted but never succeeded in purchasing.

He thought he wouldn’t see you again in this life, but hope came to him in time. The guard mainly tasked in keeping a watchful eye on him had aged beyond capability of continuing his duties. He retired with in turn meant they’d have to replace him with someone new and much younger.

The new guard was all too pompous for the prisoner’s liking. He didn’t take his superior’s warnings seriously and strutted about the place as if he owned it, along with mocking him every chance he got. The older prison guard did nothing akin to that. The most he did was to stare silently at him in suspicion, which was honestly more preferred.

One day during the lunch hour, the guard had come to deliver his food. Because he was a special case he wasn’t allowed to access the cafeteria like you would normally be able to in a prison. As the guard went with insulting him, he kicked the food bowl through the small hatch on the side, making it spill out on the filthy floor.

Laughing he said, ‘You gonna eat up like the animal you are? It’s more than you deserve.’ then he continued cackling.

The prisoner noticed his distracted state and used it to his advantage. Quickly he lunged forward, too fast for the slow guard and reached his arms through the bars and grabbed a hold of the other individual, choking him in the process.

He begged for his life; he didn’t want it to end in that rusty place. Funny, the prisoner thought because that was exactly what would have become of him had the other man not been to stupid. He squeezed his arm around his neck and choked him to death, enjoying how he clawed at him to let go while tears streamed down his face.

When he was dead, he fished out the keys from the pocket in his pants and unlocked the door and freed himself of his shackles. It was lucky this section only had him and not anyone else. They thought that limiting his contact with people would give a less likelihood of him escaping, or at least thinking about it.

It didn’t work.

Taking his first steps outside imprisonment he relished in the liberty, stretching his limbs thoroughly. Now he must get passed every other obstacles and out into the real world. That wouldn’t be all to hard, he speculated.

After that, the only thing left was you. Just you wait calmly for him, no need to stress. He’ll be there soon.

[lethesbeastie]

My betta fish, Achilles, passed this morning.

I haven't talked about my fish here much, aside from the occasional shitpost or silly doodle, but they've done a lot for me, especially Achilles.

See, Achilles was the very first fish I bought. I got him back in January of 2023, and as of today I'd had him for almost two years. I know that might not seem like much, but Achilles was a petstore betta— their lives tend to be short due to shitty breeding and terrible keeping in corporate locations. I knew going in that, as hardy as betta can be, there was a chance I'd fuck things up and lose him if I wasn't careful.

I've had a lot of experience losing pets. Like a lot of kids who get into exotic animal keeping, I started with lizards I caught in my backyard as a child and worked my way upwards through various "beginner" pets that I usually took in from family after their care became too burdensome for them. I loved those animals, but I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't fail them more often then not. I had mental health issues and school and grew negligent with cleaning tanks. After I lost my leopard gecko Lillian back in 2020, I decided I wasn't going to keep anything until I had the mental capacity to care for it properly. I didn't have the time to anyway; I was going to college and couldn't exactly keep a pet in the dorms.

I tried other things in the meantime. Threw myself into art even more, got into dnd, tried (and failed) at making terrariums with moss. I got better mentally, then had to live at home after freshman year of college and got worse.

Eventually, I realized I was getting a lot worse, and that I needed something to focus on to drag me out of it. I needed something I could care for, but that I could set up in a way that it would be able to sustain itself if I fell off mentally again. I started getting into terrariums once more, then isopods. I came across Serpadesign on YouTube, fell in love with the notion of building vivariums. And through that, I discovered a newfound desire to keep fish.

I do not want to prop up stereotypes: fish are not "easy" pets, no matter what petstores tell you. I did not go into fishkeeping because I wanted to put an animal in a bowl. I got into fishkeeping because I saw that it was possible to create a self sustaining ecosystem at an accessible size if I was willing put in the proper work. And god, I was willing to put in the work. I spent months scouring the aquascaping community on YouTube for tutorials and process videos, did research into the best types of fish for small tanks and the most ethical ways to keep them. I had spare tanks from my old reptile keeping days that I could easily repurpose for fishkeeping, and I spent every spare penny from Christmas and birthdays on buying up hardscape and natural decor.

And one day, while browsing my local petsmart, I saw Achilles.

I loved him the second I saw him, the moment I picked up his little cup and was greeted with the most indignant stare. He flared at me, which I'd never seen a betta do in a cup before. I was enamored, decided that I had to take him home.

I bought him on impulse, which wasn't the smartest thing to do. I didn't have a tank set up yet. I just knew I had the supplies and that I could make an early setup safer by dosing beneficial bacteria to jumpstart the nitrogen cycle. My first tank wasn't as naturalistic as I'd hoped, but it was functional, and I knew I could add more plants as time went on and Achilles settled.

Like I said, it's been almost two years. I've gone from keeping an underwhelming five gallon with gravel to several fully furnished naturalistic tanks with riparium plants for additional biological filtration. I still make mistakes now and then, since fishkeeping is a continuous learning process, but I've been able to provide my fish a home that sustains them naturally, and I have aspirations to build more tanks when finances and time allow.

None of this would've happened without Achilles. I would never have had the courage to do this if I hadn't fallen in love with the silly betta I found that day in 2023. He's been a constant friend, a source of joy, and a reason for me to keep going.

I'm going to miss him very, very much. But I can take heart in the fact that he brought me into a hobby I loved. Sparked a passion that will stay with me for life. Feel proud of the fact that I gave him an enjoyable life for the time in which he shared my home.

Achilles inspired one of my favorite creative writing pieces I did last year, so I'll share that here in his honor. It's called Betta Splendens, it's about fish, petstores, and the existential dread of living in late-stage capitalism as a disabled person.

[a-writing-otter]

WIP Wednesday - Chapter 9 of the Redemption and Subsequent Death of Bill Cipher

“Okay. Okay. One more time.”

Bill shakes himself off, eyes fixed on where Red and Dipper are standing. Dipper is sitting on the back of Question Mark’s pickup truck with his notebook and Red is standing there, twirling an axe in her hand. Bill is stanced in front of a target, facing them.

As of three days ago, Bill is back on his feet and back to work. After waking up and being cognizant enough to actually function in Ford’s room, they’d made him lay back for another day. While Bill put up a good bit of complaint about it, it wasn’t all that bad, mostly because Ford stayed with him and pet his hair and let him stay in his bed.

Again, things aren’t exactly back to the way they were before, but there’s marked improvement. Ford will be in the same room as him again, talks to him again, even seeks him out. The night before, they’d just sat on the roof of the Mystery Shack looking at the stars and talking in a way that made Bill remember again how things had been thirty years prior.

In addition to whatever is repairing between him and Ford, Bill has devoted all spare energy to trying to get that alternate form to come out. They’ve tried meditation and clenching and willing it into being, but nothing has worked. The last solution was near-death experiences.

Thus Red, her axe, and a large target behind Bill.

“Ready?” Red asks, tossing the axe up and down in her hand for a second.

Shaking his shoulders out, Bill nods.

“Ready.”

“Alright then. Three… two—“

Red throws it on two, it sails right past Bill’s ear, Bill screams, and nothing else happens.

“What happened to ‘go on one’?!” Bill shrieks when he comes back to himself, heart hammering in his chest.

“It’s no fun if you expect it,” Red laughs, going over to collect her axe where it is sunk deep into the target beside Bill. “We’re trying to simulate a ‘near death experience’.”

“Yeah, well—“

“What are you doing?”

The three of them look up to see Ford and Mabel wandering to them. Ford is staring at Bill like he’s got three heads while Red pulls the axe out and puts it on her shoulder.

“I actually don’t know how to answer that question,” Bill confesses.

“We’re seeing if we can coax that other version of Bill out through fear,” Dipper says instead.

“By throwing axes at him?” Ford doesn’t sound mad, almost unimpressed. “There’s better ways to scare him.”

“Well, if you’ve got anything better, I’ll hear it. Nothing’s happening,” Bill tells him.

“Short of just praying that it happens when it happens, we’ve tried everything I would normally suggest,” Dipper notes from the truck.

And that’s the problem, isn’t it?

“You could try the ‘Mew Mew Kissy Cutie’ method?” Mabel suggests, climbing up into the truck to sit next to Dipper.

Ford and Bill both blink at her while Red groans and rolls her eyes.

“The what?” Bill asks.

“It’s a stupid kid’s show,” Red dismisses.

“It is an ‘anime’,” Mabel corrects with a good deal of gravitas, “and it is a very important anime.”

“Those are the shows that Soos watches sometimes, right?” Ford recalls and Mabel nods enthusiastically.

“Soos showed them to me! It’s about a magical girl!”

“Magical—” Bill starts.

“Girl?” and Ford finishes.

“Well, I’m not magic or a girl.”

Dipper makes a thoughtful sound.

“You are magical and, technically, you aren’t a boy or a girl, you’re a demon.”

“I mean, yes, your binary understanding of gender doesn’t work outside of your realm, but according to the fake ID your grunkle got me so I can buy various age-appropriate implements, I’m a man.”

“It’s not about being a boy or a girl,” Mabel insists before standing, striking a pose, “it’s about saving the world and doing so in a cute outfit and magical powers! One of those things is taken care of.”

“…but I can’t access the magical powers,” Bill reminds. It’s stupid, incredibly stupid, but at this point, they’ve only got so many options.

“Alright, what do I do?”

Mabel energetically jumps down from the truck and goes over to him.

“So, the first thing you do is you have to spin around in a circle and put your arms above your head. After a couple circles, you stop, you strike a pose, and you wink.”

“…I do what?”

“You know, you—“ And Mabel comes closer before lifting her arms above her head. She turns in a neat circle a couple of times before stopping short, hip popped with one hand on it and the other holding a peace sign next to her face.

Bill blinks at her.

“You’re kidding.”

“You heard her,” Ford insists, sounding amused. “You spin in a circle with your hands above your—“

“You just want to see me dance around and make an idiot of myself.”

“The concept has merit, yes,” Ford teases.

Bill waves him off before looking down at Mabel. “I seriously have to do all of that?”

Mabel nods energetically.

The entire group is staring at Bill hopefully and— Look, they’re desperate at this point. …what’s the worst that happens, honestly?

Bill lets out a deep sigh, squaring his shoulders, and muttering under his breath about “stupid powers” and “stupid magical girls”. Stopping a few paces away, he takes a deep breath in, willing the pale heat in his face to die down.

He lifts his arms over his head, spins in two circles before doing the same move as Mabel before stopping, hip popped, hand on his hip, and peace sign near his face.

Nothing happens.

Ford immediately bursts into laughter and Bill throws his hands up.