#dates in this fucking museum get WILD

[the-enjoyerrr]

gay people speaking to me. im listening real close. they tell me that glisten should join the goob x rodger x shrimpo x boxten polyamory. what do you guys think

[flowerbunnyboo]

HOT SAUCE | back

starring: jeno x male reader

summary: A cutesy date between Mn and Jeno turns into a wild one.

nsfw, minors dni, don’t report

“Babe”, Jeno voiced out to his boyfriend who had just gotten up from his sleep. Jeno was making tasty pancakes for his love. Mn couldn’t help but smile seeing the sight in front of him. “Yes Nono?”. Jeno broke into a huge grin upon hearing the nickname. “I want to take you out on a date today!”.

The date went perfectly well. Mn and Jeno and a perfect time. The whole day, Mn was happy. He couldn't stop smiling and giggling. Jeno took him to a museum, then an art gallery. The two also went for shopping and then proceeded to have dinner.

Jeno wanted to see Mn happy and he had achieved that. But now the date was over and Mn and Jeno headed back home. The night was still young and both knew what was going to happen and were very much excited for it.

As the two stepped inside, Mn was slammed on the door as he felt plump lips kissing him. The kiss turned sloppy as time passed. Jeno bit Mn’s bottom lip so he could swirl his tongue in and Mn complied making Jeno win.

He groped Mn’s ass and grinded their hips together sending him over the edge. The kiss got heated and Jeno smirked as heard small moans come from his boyfriend's mouth. The dom then proceeded to kiss the younger’s jawline and neck and started to suck on Mn’s neck as he squirmed and moaned.

Both of them removed their clothes and Mn widened seeing his boyfriend's figure. Hot chiseled abs, with pecs. Jeno saw Mn’s eyes darken with lust. “Like what you see baby boy? ”. Mn smirked and pulled you in for another kiss,

“Yes daddy ”

After some passionate kissing Jeno’s dropped down on his knees, undid Mn’s pants and took his dick in his mouth. He bobbed his head fastly without stopping. Mn was now a moaning mess, he moaned so loud Jeno was pretty sure their neighbours must have heard it.

Mn tangled his fingers in Jeno's hair as he let out load moans. Jeno groped Mn’s ass making squirm and wanting for more. He could feel his release getting closer, “Aah Fuck daddy~don't stop” and with that he shot down his load in Jeno’s mouth.

He swallowed all of it and kissed Mn’s lips which Mn thought was quite hot. Jeno got up and kissed him, “Damn baby even your cum is delicious”. Mn giggled hearing his boyfriend.

Jeno hoisted Mn up as he put his legs around his waist. He could feel Jeno’s huge tent underneath. Jeno continued groping his ass . “A~h D-daddy ..”, the younger moaned as Jeno sucked on his chest.“ What baby? Daddy can't understand you”.

Mn whimpered as couldn't take it anymore. He wanted Jeno right now, "P~please f-fuck m-me”, he moaned. Jeno smirked, “Your wish is my command baby”. The dom took him to the bedroom and dropped him on the bed dropping clothes everywhere.

Jeno lowly growled and took of his pants. His dick dripping with precum. Mn widened his eyes when he saw his dick. It's huge. “Babe I don't think it will fit”. Jeno laughed seeing his reaction, “Don't worry I'll make it fit”.

Jeno spread Mn’s legs and thrusted one finger in without warning. Mn panted and moaned as he rolled his eyes. He had fingered himself so he was a little loose but he still wasn't prepared for Jeno's cock.

Soon enough Jeno was thrusting four fingers inside him and Mn couldn't take it anymore. He was a moaning mess. He came once again. His dick shooting white strings of cum painting both of their abdomens white.

Jeno smiled seeing the masterpiece in front to of him panting and heaving. He took out lube from his nightstand and applied a generous amount on your monster. Mn spread his legs wider for Jeno as he could see his pink hole.

Jeno aligned his phallus with many hole and swooped it right in. Mn was still tight but it felt too good to be around him. Mn rolled his eyes in pleasure as he felt Jeno's cock fill him up.

Once Jeno was all in, he waited for Mn to adjust. Mn gave him a look of consent and Jeno smirked as he started thrusting at an animalistic pace.

The room was full of skin slapping noises and mn moaning for hi daddy and Jeno's dick making mn cry in pleasure. Mn had came three times but that didn't stop Jeno. Mn clenched as Jeno abused his prostate.

“Damn baby so tight ”, the dom said as he felt mn's insides tightening. “Y-yes da~daddy o-only fo-r y-you ”, Mn said moaning. He was going to have an orgasm anytime. “Aa~ah”, the sub came again clenching his hole.

Jeno too was closer to his release. With a few final thrusts he came inside Mn filling him up. Mn felt full feeling his lover's cum fill him to the brim. Jeno pulled out and laid besides him and kissed his lips. Mn was happy and so was Jeno. “I love you Mnnie”, Jeno pecked his lips. “I love you too Daddy"

Jeno cleaned Mn and himself up and gave the older all the cuddles he wanted. They both fell asleep saying 'I love you's to each other and slept with love.

©️ flowerbunnyboo 2024. all rights reserved to me. please don't copy my work or reshare without my permission and credit

[minhosimthings]

ENHA HYUNG LINE x PUBLIC SEX????

Exhibitionism? Sign me the fuck up bitch. Thank you for the request baby, had fun writing this!

More under the cut!

While Heeseung does prefers privacy, it takes little for his dick to get hard when imagining you naked in a changing room. Picture a scene with me, you're in a shop, hoping to buy a dress for tomorrow's event. You try one, then you try the other, showing each one to a very concentrated Heeseung, who couldn't let go of how your waist and hips molded into the dress so perfectly. God he wanted to press that body against that changing room mirror and fuck you so hard you'll be wobbling all the way home.

"Hee baby we can't-" "shh darling." He would cup a hand over your mouth, one hand reaching up the skirt of you dress and inserting his ringed fingers into your wet folds one by one, making you scream out a muffled moan, "No one's gonna hear.

Bonus: he would use one of the more shorter dresses as a gag, thriving in the way you moved to shush yourself as he rammed his cock fully into your g-spot, making you cum all over the mirror.

Jay doesn't really love the idea of fucking you in public. He's possessive, he wants you all to himself and himself only, and usually his dick and your pussy were confined to Jay's soft silk sheets. But sometimes, you get a little too horny, especially when you see him dressed in a suit, with rings on his fingers and a necklace draping a place you wanted to leave your love on."Darling wait till we get home." He'd tell you, taking another sip of his champagne, having no idea how his cologne intoxicated you.

And that's the story of how you and Park Jongsoeng were stuck in a quite spacious bathroom, him leaning against the wall, shoving his fist in his mouth to muffle himself and you, on your knees, taking his length into your mouth. "Ah-ahh fuck darling just like that." He'd whisper to no one but himself, feeling himself about to cum in your throat as he thrusts his hips forward, dick dangling at the back of your throat.

Bonus: He shoves his cum-coated fingers into your mouth to shut you up, once his fingers are out and his dick is sweeping your pussy clean.

Jake is a 24/7 horny man who loves ramyeon, his girlfriend, and her sweet cunt. And when I say 24/7 I mean 24 fucking 7. This man would probably get off in the middle of a date just by your gaze. Just imagine. You, Jake and a cute little empty hallway at a museum, where Jake, quote unquote "wanted a quick one." If there is anyone in Enha's hyung line who is obsessed with how fast they can get you to cum, it's Jake.

"No one's gonna hear, if we don't let them baby." Jake would whisper, taking off his metal necklace and shoving it into your mouth, which worked extremely effectively as a gag. Seeing your wetness soak through your panties would only encourage him more, as he discreetly took it off, his eyes still alert at the side for any peeker, and he would fuck just the tip into you, chuckling at how it made you cum. "So little and you're already cumming baby? Tch tch tch. I've gotta train you more." He'd let out a breathy laugh at seeing your face scrunch up tightly, trying not to scream holy grail into everyone's ears.

Bonus: He'd always stand very close to you, behind you, so that his hardened dick is always rubbing against your ass. Two quickies in a day never hurt did they?

Park Sunghoon is a wild child. And he often wants to make it known through his dumb crazy antics. What he also wants to make known is his high sex drive and his urge to make everyone know who you belong to. Sunghoon would fuck you on the top of a restaurant table or even in front of a glass window if he could. But unfortunately he was told that it was illegal so no balance there.

And one day, in the middle of the literal atmosphere, Sunghoon grabbed your hand and pulled you to the airplane's toilet. Thank God for his buisness class tickets, the toilets were slightly larger, just enough to fit him, with his shoulders carrying the weight of your legs, and his tongue sweeping in between your folds. "Don't you shut that mouth of yours doll, I want everyone to know whose good slut you are." He'd say, touching the perfect spot with his long tongue, making you squirm as you let out a loud moan, fulfilling Sunghoon's ears.

Bonus: "well I think she heard you doll." Sunghoon chuckles, supporting you with his hand wedged into the skin of your hips, as he listened to light taps of the airhostess on the door, "It's alright, atleast she knows whose doll you are now."

[and-so-he-rambled]

What if you split the farmer into their component elements for the co-op experience in universe.

Imagine the town when not one, but four farmers descend on their tiny town. (Or dear god eight)

The Farmer

Feral as always, will use bombs to clear the farm and can raze the cindersnap in a day if they want to. Can be found shoving plants into their backpack in the woods or tending the fields, has beef with Pierre. Will grow your favorite crops and cries in happiness when their greenhouse is built.

The Rancher

The farmers counterpart. Is always at Marnies examining new babies and bringing them home, always bugging Robin for an expansion or new farm building, can be found surrounded by animals at any given time. Will randomly hand you an egg from their pocket or the foot of a rabbit if they like you, has spent the farmer fund on hay in the winter. Has an actual fucking dinosaur and will let you pet it.

The Geologist

Or as I like to call them, the cave goblin.

Can be found in the caves at almost any hour with a backpack full of rocks, absolutely swole and destroys monsters without a care because rocks! They have almost single handedly completed the museum and kept Clint in business, and will stare at him with an unblinking gaze while he cracks open their geodes. Lord have mercy when this fucker gets to skull caverns.

The Fisherman

(Willy’s favorite)

They have kept the art of fishing alive and have caught every single fish in The Valley by the second year. Can be found anywhere near water and has managed to drag up whole chests. Has horrified townsfolk by eating raw algae straight from the water or gelatinous goo they fished up. Has eaten a raw fish before.

Sometimes spotted defending into the mines with a fishing pole and returning with freaky fish they’ll gladly present to Willy, has also been spotted going into the sewers with their pole.

That’s not to say the farmers don’t work together. They are a force of nature. Ask for something on the board? Prepare for four people running up to you with that item. They fight like dogs over the grange and it’s a mix of crops, animal products, shiny rocks, and fresh fish. On rainy days they’ve been spotted playing in the rain and have woken up Robin more than once stampeding back to their farms from the mines at midnight. No one’s sure their relations to one another or who’s actually related to the old man, and no one asks.

They flirt a lot and will share their goods to increase the others odds of getting a date. On the beginning of every season they are menaces, clearing and prepping the fields with the farmer before they scatter to the wind. Always dirty, always smiling, always wild and fun. There isn’t a dull day in The Valley since they arrived. The local cryptids.

[joyful-soul-collector]

Eclectic Ensemble

Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector, and Jake Lockley x gn!reader (reader wears slightly more masculine clothing but other than that it's pretty neutral)

Summary: Reader decides they're going to ask the moon boys out on a date. Things do not go perfectly to plan

Tags: SFW, asking out, neighbors to lovers (is that a tag??), swearing, uhhh reader is a major fucking dork who talks to their cat like it can understand them, no TWs it's all fluff

Wordcount: 1288

Read on Ao3

You couldn’t figure out why you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You’d had crushes before, and those were tolerable, you would daydream, but you’d snap back to reality at some point, and go about your day like normal. 

With the man across the hall though… that was something else entirely. 

You tried to convince yourself it was just the mystery of him, the fact that he seemed to have three different accents depending on the day, how one day he’d be cheerful and awkward while the other he’d be suave or stand-offish or nervous. 

But you couldn’t convince yourself of that, because even after he explained to you that he had DID and was not in fact a method actor of some kind, you still found yourself fascinated by him despite the mystery being solved. 

Fascinated by all three of them honestly. 

You’d talked to each of them in the hall before, learned things about them, even visited Steven at the museum a couple days ago. That’s what started it honestly, you’d chatted for hours after he got off work, each of them periodically switching out to have turns to speak with you. Sitting next to them by the fountain, rambling on about anything and everything as the sky grew darker and darker, it was the most fun you’d had in ages. And by the end of the night, with the way you couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts of them, you’d think you were in love with all three of them.

Which is also part of the reason you were so nervous to be doing this. 

You folded the collar of your dress shirt down, sighing at your reflection in the mirror on your closet door. 

“What do you think? Too much?” You turned to look at your cat, who was sitting on your desk, not at all minding that she was wrinkling all your papers. She stared at you for a moment, then licked her paw. “Yeah. Too much.”

There’s no way they’ll say yes, you thought as you unbuttoned your shirt. Even if one of them likes me back, what’re the chances the other two will be willing to date me if they don’t like me? Even lower chances that two of them will be interested, and definitely not all three of them. This is such an awful idea, why the hell am I doing this?

As you were undoing the third button you heard someone walking down the hall outside your front door. Normally this wouldn’t be cause for alarm, but you recognized the voice drawing closer and closer. 

“Yeah, I know it’s your turn to choose dinner tonight, but I’m just saying, could you maybe not go wild with the hot sauce this time? You always do that and then leave me and Steven to deal with the stomachache after--”

A voice speaking in Spanish cut him off, and you would’ve started laughing if the panic hadn’t seized you right in that moment. 

They weren’t supposed to be home this early! You were supposed to have another hour to get ready, to rehearse what you wanted to say, to work up enough courage!

You didn’t even stop to think about what you were doing because you could hear them getting out their keys, and if you didn’t do it now you weren’t sure you ever would. So you sprinted to your front door and flung it open. 

There stood the man you’d been waiting for. It was clear that Steven was the one who dressed them that day, wearing his oversized clothes, but the perpetually frowning face 100% belonged to Marc right now. He glanced over his shoulder at you. 

“Oh, hey Y/N! How’re y--” He cut off as he fully turned around to see you, and it was only then that you remembered exactly what you were wearing. 

Not only was your shirt halfway unbuttoned, but you were wearing a rather old tank top underneath it, your bedhead was not the hot kind, you didn’t have any shoes or socks on, and of course, you were wearing a pair of fluffy blue pajama pants covered in cat fur. 

Marc was clearly trying not to smile, but it wasn’t working very well, and for a moment you were glad for it, as Marc seemed to smile the least out of the three. 

“I uh--Well I--Okay I was going to ask you something,” you said with an embarrassed laugh, running a hand through your hair as a nervous habit, but also just to try and get it under control a bit. “But just--Just hang on, lemme put on actual clothes--”

“Pfft, you’re fine, we don’t care about that, you should see the things Marc tries to make us go out in some days,” Jake said, his Spanish accent replacing Marc’s American one. “He would wear pajamas to work if me and Steven didn’t stop him. Go head, what’s up?”

You stared at him for a second, and in that moment you remembered exactly why you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about them. 

Because no matter who was talking to you, each of them had that same soft look in their eye. The one that made you feel instantly better after an awful day, that made you smile when you were worried, that made you feel like you could be yourself in a way no one else did.

The one that didn’t care at all how disheveled you looked right now, only about the question you wanted to ask him. 

“Do you wanna go out sometime? Maybe for coffee?” you said. Jake blinked, and immediately his demeanor changed, his head tilting to the side as fidgety fingers rose up to touch the strap of his bag. 

“You mean, like a date?” Steven said in his British accent. “You’re asking us out? All of us?”

You nodded and suddenly felt like looking anywhere but at their face, running a hand nervously through your hair again. 

“You uh, you guys can think about it of course, you don’t have to answer right--”

“We’d love to,” Steven interrupted. You looked up to find him smiling brightly at you, the excitement so evident in him he practically glowed. 

“Really? ‘We’ as in, all three of you?”

“Yes, yeah, er, well we've been meaning to for a while really, we wanted to ask you at the fountain the other day but… I dunno, we weren’t sure you liked any of us that way, much less all three of us.”

You gave a small laugh and leaned your arm up on the door frame, shaking your head. 

“I honestly don’t know how I couldn’t like all three of you. Really it’s a surprise that all three of you like me.”

You gestured pointedly to your rather comical outfit, and Steven laughed. 

“I dunno,” he said, tilting his head and gazing at your eclectic ensemble. “It’s kind of cute, in a messy sort of way. Jake and Marc think so too.”

“Oh? Well maybe I’ll wear this on our date then.”

He laughed again, and you chatted for a few more minutes, long enough to set up a coffee date for Sunday, before Jake said he needed to get started on dinner (much to Steven and Marc’s annoyance). 

Once you were back on your flat with the door closed behind you, you punched the air with triumph, letting out a laugh of both relief and excitement. 

“YES, yes yes yes! Fuck yeah!” 

Your cat stared at you with her head cocked as you did a victory lap around your living room, before returning to licking her fur, and you liked to imagine she silently believed in you all along. 

THE END

If you made it this far, congratulations, you have read the first x reader fic I have ever written lol. Lemme know what you think, I hope you enjoyed!

[lightsoutletsgo]

mimi congrats on 500 <3, sending this for your event!!! (1) ship pretty pls :3 i listen to everything? mostly fall out boy, joji and the cure <3 i am a graphic designer. kinda hate dessert but i am addicted to energy drinks HEH. i love traveling to big cities! so very anti beach ❌. i’m lowkey introverted but very very extroverted online 😭 HEDJSIFKS dream date???? museums!!! very very into staying in but not against to going out? i’m very passionate about the things i like? but kinda sensitive to every other thing HEHEHE tysm! congrats again!

awi!! omg omg omg hi sweets!! tysm for sending this in - I'm so excited to do it for youuuu! (I got your other request about the nsfw bit dw) happy reading! mimi 🤍

MAX VERSTAPPEN ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - calls you schat or liefje - has an obsession with your legs. loves having them in his lap when you're cuddling or wrapped around his waist - his love language is physical touch! he's a man of few words so it's small touches like a hand on your back or a quick kiss to your hand that let you know he's there and how he feels - max will do anything for you and he cannot help but spoil you. you barely have to mention something once before he's driving to the store or ordering it online for you. nothing is too big or too small for him to get for you.

max's music taste is... limited? so anytime you're driving anywhere, he's more than happy for you to have aux! he loves discovering new artists through you and with you and anytime you make him a playlist he always listens to it pre-race. of course he has to let everyone know that his amazing love made it for him. to which they usually reply "we know max, we heard the first time." (really they think it's sweet that he's so dopey for you)

he literally supplies you with all the redbull you could ever want! sometimes he 'jokes' that you're only with him for that reason but a quick kiss to his cheek has him blushing and flustered and the thought has left his head. speaking of blushing and flustered, max loves when you play dangerous games with him. sliding your hand higher and higher up his thigh at dinner before sneaking off to the bathroom with him.

max is obsessed with watching you come apart underneath him and he puts as much determination and passion into making you cum for him as he does into his driving. he loves how fucked out you look and he can't get enough of gently holding your throat and telling you to open before spitting, relishing in the way he feels you swallow under his hand. he also can't get enough of watching you in the mirror. bending you over the sink, putting you on your hands and knees on the bed, bending you over against the hallway wall; anywhere there's a mirror, max is sliding into you from behind and whispering filth into your ear as his hips roll into yours.

he loves jetting off to city breaks for the weekend with you when he can; new york, paris, seoul, budapest, prague, tokyo, florence, krakow, chicago, seville, nice; your passport is full of stamps and stickers from your trips with him. you've started a scrapbook together with a postcard and a polaroid of the two of you in every city you've been to!

he loves taking you to various art galleries and museums in the countries and cities you visit and he's become surprisingly good at being an instagram bf and taking aesthetic pictures of you in galleries and exhibits. max loves watching you as you look around, the way your face scrunches when you're focusing, the way your lips move as you read the placards, the way you excitedly tell him all you know or you've read about the exhibit and the way you're moved by the things you see. cosy date nights are a must with him whenever he's home and most nights (whether wild nights out or dinner dates at home) end with you cuddled into his side on the couch and the cats on his lap. it's his ideal evening and he won't tell you yet but he plans on hopefully making it a permanent fixture in his life soon.

max loves your passion for life and your passion and drive for the things you love, even if he doesn't love them in the same way or understand them. he learns so many new things through you and with you. he loves the way that you light up his life and make him feel warm. max swears he could never win another race for his whole career and he'd still get that world champion feeling just by looking into your eyes.

"schat, what do you think about going to paris next weekend?" max asks. you giggle and look at him leaning against the bedroom door frame as you lie on the bed, with jimmy curled up on top of your feet and sassy cuddled into your side, "max!" you point at the still half-unpacked suitcases at the foot of the bed, "we just got back from prague!" he shrugs, seemingly un-phased by your argument, "your point is?" "we can't go away again! what about the cats?"

max sighs and crosses the room to plop down onto the bed next to you, sassy glaring at him as he accidentally shifts her from her cosy spot at your side, you stroke her back absentmindedly as she takes up a new spot on your stomach, "we can ask lando to cat-sit!" you roll your eyes with a smile, max is grinning like a child, "you've already booked the tickets haven't you?" "nooooo..." "max." "maybe..." "baby!" he pouts at you and you can't help the way you laugh, leaning to kiss his cheek, "you're trouble, you know that?" he gently pushes sassy and jimmy out of the way and they almost huff at him before stalking out of the room as he rolls on top of you, pressing a dangerous kiss to your neck, "you love that I'm trouble liefje..."

[kyokittymeow]

You got any historyshipping head cannons..?? 👉👈 ❤

I absolutely have! I actually wrote some to post them some day. Guess you can have them earlier now xD

•Krux has an unhealthy obsession for Misako (help this man)

•He has a crush on her since youth

•They worked together in the museum (when he was in his Dr. Saunders persona) and he started falling for her even more

•They could talk about history stuff all day

•Krux loves her feisty, wild side and wouldn't complain if he gets beaten up by her lmao (honestly this man needs help)

•Misako can make this man from a grumpy, evil mf to a soft puppy in seconds

•Give him chin scratches and he melts away

•Krux has sweet, cheesy petnames for her: My dear, darling, love, sweetheart

•Misako wants Krux to try out a new hairstyle since his hair is always combed back. Buut Krux refuses.

Sometimes she would ruffle his hair on purpose to give him a cuter look.

•They slow dance together to old love songs 🥹

•On rainy days they cuddle up on the couch and read books or drink tea.

•When Krux is having a date with her he panics everytime what he should wear and just can't fucking decide. He wants to look ✨PERFECT✨

Acronix in the background laughing and rating him.

Acronix: i give this outfit a cringe/10

Krux: ...fuck you

(Then ends up wearing a fucking suit to a cafe 💀)

•Krux is so cute and shy around her, literally a different person

•Krux would play romantic songs on the piano for Misako ♡⁠‿⁠♡ (yes he can play the piano because i said so)

[mochinomnoms]

(TW for cannibalism, specifically necro cannibalism which is eating dead people)

So, victorians ate mummies (like the kind from Egypt) because it was believed that it was medicinal. Viewing dead bodies as having medicinal properties was a belief dating back to the middle ages, but practiced rather infrequently. However, at the height of the victorian obsession for Egypt (called Egyptomania), along with using mummies to produce an oil paint of the shade mummy brown, they were also eaten as medicine. Something a little less morbid, one guy allegedly found out how his tube of mummy brown paint was produced, and held a little funeral for it. The only reason these practices ended is because they literally ran out of mummies.

(This might become a daily thing, I have way too much to say and not enough people to say it to :( )

YEAH WE TALKED A LOT ABOUT THIS IN MY ANTHRO CLASSES SINCE I WAS ON THE ARCHAEOLOGY TRACK IT'S FUCKING WILD

The BritishTM will never cease to frighten me, also funfact there is a rare parasitic disease that is only so rare BECAUSE YOU CAN ONLY GET IT FROM EATING DEAD BODIES and also British Museums return the stolen artifacts to their home countries they're not yours to display, and I don't care if you're “preserving them” for future generations THOSE WERE NEVER YOURS TO DECIDE THAT RETURN THEM YOU CUNTS

And that goes for American historical museums with Native artifacts, GIVE THEM BACK some of those you straight up just took from Natives' yards and graves you asses

Anyways I have some very strong feelings about the historical museum industry and their workings (also go ahead i also have many thoughts all the time that I like to share)

[thatwritingho]

Kloktober Day 1

Favorite Character or OTP

My favorite character is half of my OTP, so both!

Pairing: Relish! Which is Pickles the Drummer and Olive Axworthy, my OC. get it, because pickle and olive relish, hahaha

Rating: SFW, only mildly suggestive moments

Summary: Pickles makes a miscalculation when planning a date with Olive. Luckily, he thinks of a better plan, and so they ditch the fancy restaurant they both hated to relocate.

What a perfect night for a cemetery date.

.

It was beautiful.

Glittering crystal chandeliers, polished marble floors, spotless white tablecloths, and a bouquet of fresh flowers in the center of their private, tucked away table with a gorgeous view of the city, shielded by a wall of live greenery.

It was beautiful.

And Olive looked absolutely miserable. 

Gorgeous, in a black velvet dress that slit up to her hip and gave her immaculate cleavage, showing off both her sleeve and thigh tattoo. Her wild curls were more tamed than usual, her makeup dark and stunning. Around her neck hung the anatomically correct heart pendant he gifted her. Silver glinted from each of her ear piercings, bracelets dangled from her wrists, rings covered her fingers, her nails shone black and pointed.

She was gorgeous, stunning, breathtaking… but still miserable, all the same. 

As Olive finished the last bite of her dessert, Pickles gulped down the rest of his wine, bracing himself. 

"Everythin' okee, babe?"

Dark eyes flit up to meet green, and she shrugged. 

"Yeah. Everything's fine."

The raising of a single pierced brow was all it took, and she sighed, teething at her tongue ring.

"It's just. Y'know…." she gestured around with her eyes.

"What?"

“This place, it’s just…”

“Yeah?”

“...fancy.”

“Is dat a bad thing?”

Olive shrugged, “I mean, like, objectively, no.”

“Okee… And, uh, not objectively?”

“Subjectively?” sighing, she chewed at her lip, glancing around, “It’s just. Not really my thing.”

Pickles nodded, staring at her as he considered how to turn this date around. Where could they go now that she would like? Hell, where did she even like to go? It was too late for a museum or a bookstore, they were too dressed up to go break into some abandoned building or walk in a park. Where was he gonna take her, a fucking mausoleum?

Oh. 

Duh.

Grin curling up his lips, Pickles stood, carelessly tossing some cash from his wallet down onto the table, "Well what the hell're we doin' here, den? Let's get outta this place."

Smiling, Olive placed her hand in his offered one, standing to follow him to the limo. She snorted when Pickles insisted on opening the door for her, but thanked him anyway, waiting inside as he whispered something to the driver before joining her. The ride was largely uneventful, save for Pickles slipping down the straps of Olive's dress to snort a line or two or five off her tits. 

When it finally rolled to a stop, Olive pried her lips from Pickles', peering out the tinted windows as a large grin took over her face. As she turned back to him, dark eyes sparkling, face lit up in childish delight, and asked "Really?!" with more excitement in her voice than he had ever heard, Pickles felt his stomach flip, heat rushing to his face as his mouth went dry. 

"Y-yeah, dood."

Lips pressed to his cheek in a soft, sweet kiss, and Olive bumped the tip of her nose to his.

"Thank you."

Before he had a chance to respond, she gripped his hand and nearly drug him from the limo, but Pickles managed to grab the doorframe, stopping just in time.

"Whoah, dood, hang ahn! Jeezus, the skeletons aren't going anywhere!"

Pickles rummaged back inside, Olive pulling a face when he returned, a pierced brow raising in question.

"What?"

"Is there anything other than champagne?"

Pickles gave her an incredulous look. 

"...yew don't like champagne?"

"No."

"...okee. Well, there's a '78 Giacomo Conterno Monfortino or a '96 Domaine Leroy Romanée-Saint-Vivant Grand Cru in dere, too, if yah want one of those instead."

"I have no idea what that means."

Pickles grinned at her blank face, "Ones a barolo, ones a pinot noir."

"...I still don't know what that means. It's just wine. Whatever is fine, it all tastes the same, anyway."

The grin fell from his face at her words, replaced with an expression of shock, disbelief, and mild horror.

"Babe, yew… yew don't actually mean dat, right?"

Olive shrugged. 

"Yeah. I mean, aside from the color difference, it all just tastes like wine."

Shell shocked, Pickles swapped the bottle of champagne out for the ten-thousand dollar bottle of wine, the knowledge that it would be absolutely wasted on her beginning to set in. 

It just tastes like wine. 

Jesus Christ. 

He needed to take her to a wine tasting yesterday.

Shaking it off, Pickles slung his arm over Olive's shoulders as they walked through the gates of the cemetery, glancing around at the fog hanging low on the ground, the murder of crows cawing and pecking amongst the headstones nearby as they meandered along the path, the clack of Olive's heels loud in the chilled air. A gentle breeze sent her curls dancing, swaying and rustling the leaves left clinging on the skeletons of trees, an owl hooting somewhere off in the distance.

What a perfect night for a cemetery date. 

The moon shone bright behind the sparse, wispy clouds, lighting up her face, her happy, relaxed expression such a stark contrast to the one worn at dinner he could hardly reconcile the two.

"Wanna know somethin'?"

"Hm?"

Pickles leaned in close, whispering, "I fuckin' hate fancy restaurants, too."

Olive laughed, loud and sudden and so hard she snorted, slapping a hand over her mouth as Pickles laughed at her, the both continuing to giggle at each other as the conversation continued.

"Then why did we go!"

"I don't know, dood! A fancy dinner, dats, like, the date!"

"Yeah, but it sucks!"

"Yer tellin' me! Gahd, got all dressed up in dis stupid suit fer nothin'."

Pickles tugged at his already loosened tie as Olive laughed harder, unbuttoning the top few buttons of his shirt

"Yew look hot as hell, though. 'least dere's dat."

Heat flushed to her face at the compliment, and she smiled, biting her lip as Pickles grinned his crooked grin at her.

"Oh, hey," Pickles grabbed her elbow, steering her to the side, "We're here."

Raising a brow as Pickles veered off path, Olive pauses to slip off her heels before following him barefoot amongst the graves, the ground cold and dew-damp on her feet. At the base of a tall, wide, old oak tree, Pickles plopped down in the grass, half-sitting half-laying against it's base.

Grinning up at her, he pat his lap in invitation, "Saved a seat jest fer yew, baby. Best one in da whole house."

Her deadpan made him laugh, and Olive rolled her eyes with a fond smile before dropping down. Freckled arms wrapped securely around her as she curled up in his lap, finger tips ghosting along her arm to raise goosebumps.

The two passed the bottle of wine back and forth, chatting here and there.

"Hey."

Lifting her head from his chest, Olive was met with lips on hers, tasting of wine and weed and cigarettes. His hand gently cupped her face, thumb caressing over her cheek as their lips met time and again, Pickles relishing the way Olive melted into him more and more with each press.

Parting his lips from her was no easy feat - it never was -  but Pickles managed, bumping their noses as his eyes sought Olive's in the moonlight. Their breaths puffed and mixed between them, curls scented of wine forming to dance on the crisp night air. 

Mouth curling into a crooked grin, Pickles kissed over to her ear and nipped, facial hair tickling with his next words, "Heh. Wanna go fuck ahn a grave?"

.

To be continued ;)

Thanks for reading, please let me know what you think!

If you'd like to read more of these two, check out Momento Mori, and Olive's Mtl OC Wiki page!!

[aziraphales-library]

Do you have any fanfics about aziraphale being insecure about his weight? thanks you :))

We have loads on our #insecure aziraphale tag. Here are a few more to add to the collection...

Having and Holding by sheendav (M)

Aziraphale has a very specific bedtime request... one he fears Crowley will take the wrong way...

Fuck You Gabriel by smashedglassglitteringlikestars (E)

Crowley lets his angel know that it's okay to be soft.

You are beautiful, angel by Whatwashernameagain (M)

Aziraphale watches Crowley dance around his flat, drunk on good wine and freedom, and cannot help but be drawn to the way he moves, so fluid and graceful and entirely unselfconscious. He’s so beautiful with his fiery hair in the setting sun and his burning, wild eyes. Utterly breathtaking. The image of the lithe demon enjoying his body so confidently reminds him of how little he has to offer the person he craves to be close to more than he’s ever wanted anything in his entire existence. The cutting remarks spoken from smiling lips in heaven sting sharply as he remembers all of his failings as an angel. He feels very small suddenly. Crowley‘s sulfur-yellow eyes flare hotly.

Love Handles by Phoenix_Soar (E)

Crowley is a sweet thing and now that he is allowed, he wants to show Aziraphale just how lovely he finds his Angel.

As they try to adjust to the new turn their relationship takes after Armageddon, Crowley discovers that Aziraphale harbours certain self-conscious thoughts about his body. Well now, that just won’t do…

Just the Same by EmilyLouise (T)

So, the world didn't end and everything's pretty much the same, really. Apart from Aziraphale and Crowley are now in some sort of romantic relationship that neither of them knows how to navigate. But they don't need to talk about it or make it a thing. It's fine, really, apart from the times it isn't.

Things that were researched for this fic: Victorian and Georgian nightwear, the play 'Romeo and Juliet', molluscs, Aziraphale's conservation practices, the menu at the British Museum, the layout of the V&A, Italian renaissance gardens, Giant Sloths, plant varieties, the guardian crossword, compost, and the difference between BP and BC.

Snow Angel by Vagabond (T)

Human!AU. Aziraphale needs a date to his brother's Christmas party to avoid getting set up with someone. Anathema suggests Crowley, the office bad boy. They go, get snowed in, and have a heart-to-heart that ends in a Happy Christmas.

From a prompt: Human!AU: Aziraphale needs a date for family Christmas. He invites the office rebel/bad boy, Crowley.

- Mod D

[loveanddeepspice]

PART TWO

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars." — Oscar Wilde

Read on AO3 PART ONE INDEX *please look at the index if you are new to this story!

tw: self-deprecation Since my last posting of this, I have made a LADS sideblog! I've been so out there with writing and editing lately, please ignore my mistakes ; - ;

MORGAN

As my eyes adjusted to the cool darkness, the tiny glimmer of stars twinkled like fireflies trapped in the city's concrete jar. The museum's rear path lights cast a warm glow. The rain's brief pause made me more aware; I could hear a distant rumble of thunder, a reminder that the storm may not be over yet. As I descended the museum's rain-slicked stairs, the dampness in the air heightened my senses.

I collapsed onto a nearby bench beside a perfectly manicured bush teeming with playful insects.

A round stone gargoyle was perched near the edge of the path. The gargoyle looked absolutely fucking ridiculous, or that's how it first appeared—scooping up its wings behind it with a look of quiet contemplation and no discernible emotion.

I pulled a cigarette from my bag and lit it. Casually flicking the ashes into a nearby bush, I took heavy drags and blew them out into the starry night. The bitter taste of the cigarette brought back the restless nights of my youth when the city's promise of escape was all that kept me going. Now, here I was, smoking outside a museum at night with a dead phone.

"So this is where you ended up."

A melodious voice shattered the stillness, overpowering the lingering scent of smoke with a wave of sandalwood. And then, suddenly, Rafayel sat beside me on the bench. Even in the moonlight, his eyes gleamed with a knowing glint, his features a mask of that subtle arrogance.

"What?" I asked, trying not to let my surprise show. Had he followed me? The thought rubbed me the wrong way.

He leaned closer, his arm finding support on his knee, as he rested his fist under his chin and turned to face me.

"Well, Morgie," Rafayel said, "I wanted to see you again, but you seemed to be in a hurry."

"I just thought the night was beautiful and wanted to come outside," I quickly made an excuse. "Since my date stood me up."

I looked at the gargoyle, and it gazed back at me steadily.

There was a brief pause as he processed my words. "Wait, what about the chocolate shop? Something doesn't add up here," Rafayel said, leaning closer toward me. I could see the pale skin of his throat peeping out from beneath his jawline.

He pressed the matter. "Go ahead, tell me. I have good ears."

I scoffed, folding my arms and pretending to find the gargoyle engaging. "That's... That's none of your business."

"Ha, ha," he chuckled, a sly grin playing across his lips. I could feel his divertissement radiating from him, but it was a strange mirth. I couldn't quite decipher it.

"Come on, Morgie," his voice dropped low, almost alluring. The use of my childhood nickname only added to the awkwardness. "Let's talk."

I shifted.

His expression was calm and collected, almost bored; that arrogance that made me want to slap him. Who was this guy? We were practically strangers, our paths crossing by chance. Now, we were sitting together under the stars, and I couldn't shake the urge to grab him by the collar and demand answers.

Instead, I looked down at my folded arms across my chest.

"Fine," I huffed, trying not to let my frustration seep into my words. "If you must know...I was looking for a chocolate shop that my friend told me about. She said they had the best hot chocolate in town. I took a wrong turn and ended up at the museum by chance. It's not much different from what I already told you. So there you have it."

I shot a glare over at the gargoyle statue again. It wasn't until I noticed that the artist had fallen silent that I realized he was staring at me. His gaze was as if he was trying to piece something together. Feeling self-conscious, I turned away and fidgeted awkwardly.

"Well, I should be getting home," I said, standing up and flicking the half-finished cigarette away. "It's late, and I'm sure my cat is wondering where I am."

Rafayel tilted his head to one side, a gesture I couldn't help but find endearing as I glanced back at him.

"What?" I asked, trying to hide my annoyance. "Do you need something?"

"No," Rafayel said, "But it sounds like you might."

I let out an exasperated sigh. "Look, I already told you why I'm here. I got lost, and then I found the museum. End of story."

"I'll level with you, Morgie-"

"Morgan."

"-that was a closed gallery, Morgan. Buyers only. And you didn't buy anything."

"What?"

"You broke in, is what I'm saying."

"I'd never!" I said, indignant. "The door was open, and I was just…just walking around!"

Rafayel sighed, a long-suffering sound. "It was a private showing," he clarified, sounding annoyed. He even dared to pout a bit, crossing his arms and one ankle over the other. "If my manager knew you were here, he'd have your head."

"Well, he doesn't need to know," I said.

"And I won't tell him if you let me walk you home."

What? Who was this guy? What did he want from me? "Why would you do that?"

"Because I want to make sure you get there safe." He stood up then.

I didn't have a response, so I simply nodded in agreement. I was going to allow a stranger to accompany me on my walk home. Interesting, great, fantastic.

"Good," Rafayel said, grinning. "Let's go."

It felt strange walking alongside a stranger like this. I couldn't help but notice how confidently he carried himself as if he knew exactly where he was going.

"I - I live a bit away from here," I said, trying to keep up with his long strides. "It'll be a while before we get there."

Rafayel glanced over at me, nodding slightly. "I don't mind the walk," he said, "It's a nice night. Hopefully, the rain stopped for good."

I nodded, unsure what else to say. We walked on in silence; the smell of wet pavement and ozone hung in the air, mixing with the sounds of car horns and chatter, the city streets bustling with the usual activity that was starting to settle down.

After a few minutes, Rafayel spoke again. He had shoved his hands into the pockets of his coat and moved with a fluid grace not unlike I had seen at the gallery. "You're not from around here, are you?"

"No," I replied, surprised at the question. "I'm from a town called Redpine, near the border."

Rafayel nodded as if he had expected the answer. "What's it like there?" he asked.

"It's... quiet," I said, unable to think of a better word. "There's not much to do."

His face pinched slightly as if expecting me to say something else. "That doesn't sound very interesting."

"No, it's not," I agreed. "But sometimes that's a good thing."

"I wouldn't know," Rafayel said, turning away from me to look down a side street. His eyes narrowed slightly, and before I could process, he had turned. At that moment, I figured I could slip away – but he looked back over his shoulder and motioned for me to follow. I glanced down the unfamiliar side street, the street lamps casting an eerie yellowish glow, the pavement glistening with lingering rainwater. Confusion and wariness warred within me as I hesitated to follow. He was still a stranger, after all. An annoying one. But curiosity won out, and I found myself trailing after him.

The narrow street was lined with quaint little shops, their windows dark at this late hour.

"You're different, Morgan," Rafayel said after a moment, pausing to let me catch up with him. "I don't know if you're a bad or good person, but you're definitely...different."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?"

"Neither," Rafayel said, pausing to look back at me. "It's just something I've noticed about you. You're hard to read."

He paused before a little shop between a bookstore and a vintage clothing boutique. The storefront was painted a rich, deep brown, like dark chocolate. Golden lettering spelled out "Cacao Delights" above the door, glimmering faintly in the soft glow of the street lamps.

"Is this the place you were looking for earlier?" He asked, glancing back at me with a knowing look.

I gazed at the quaint storefront, caught off guard by its charm.

"How did you know?" I blurted out, turning to face Rafayel with wide eyes.

He shrugged nonchalantly, but his gaze had a hint of amusement. "Just guessed. But it's closed now."

"Obviously," I replied, rolling my eyes playfully.

Rafayel chuckled quietly, causing a chill to run down my back in the cold night air. It was becoming irritating how confident his laugh was, but I couldn't help but enjoy it. "We could always plan to come back another time. Together."

My cheeks flushed, and I quickly looked away, fixating on the intricate gold lettering of the shop sign.

"I don't even know you," I mumbled, hugging myself for warmth. "Why would I do that? You're the mysterious stranger here. If anything, you should -"

"Tell me something about yourself," Rafayel cut in, holding a hand to stop me. "Something no one else knows."

I hesitated, racking my brain for a suitable answer. "I'm terrible at baking, but I love desserts," I blurted out, surprised by my confession. "I know exactly how unhealthy they are, but I still indulge in them anyway."

Rich laughter filled the air, making me feel warm inside. Seriously? Stop it.

"You sound like me," he said with a smile as he looked at me. "Maybe we have more in common than I thought. See? Now, we're not exactly strangers."

"I highly doubt that," I scoffed, but I couldn't help the slight grin that formed on my lips.

"You'd be surprised," Rafayel replied with sudden seriousness. "There are things about me that may surprise you."

"Really?" I asked, intrigued. "What kind of things?"

"I would tell you if I could, but some secrets are meant to be kept."

I stood there, completely shocked. Did he really just say that and expect me to agree?

"Well, maybe if you told me about some of them, I could guess the rest," I said, trying to sound calm and collected. But standing next to him, I felt small and insignificant.

"You're persistent," Rafayel remarked, glancing over at me. "I admire that."

"Thanks?" I replied uncertainly.

"Fine, I'll let you in on a secret, Morgan," he suddenly said. "But you have to promise not to tell anyone."

"Yeah, sure," I said halfheartedly, already turning to walk back the way we came. All I wanted was to go home.

"You're probably the most boring person I've ever met."

I stopped in my tracks, his words hitting me like a punch in the gut. Even though what he said was true, it still hurt. I turned around to face him again.

"What's wrong with being boring?" I asked, hating how weak my voice sounded.

"I didn't say it was a bad thing," Rafayel clarified, tilting his head slightly. "It's just an observation. You're different from other people."

"How?" I sneered sarcastically.

"Why is it so hard for you to accept a compliment?" Rafayel retorted with a slight smile, tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Maybe I genuinely think you're special."

"Well then, you should try harder," I snapped back.

Rafayel stood straight, his hands tucked into his pockets, and his eyes squinted as he kept walking, passing me on the sidewalk. It was almost as if he challenged me to catch up with him.

Without hesitation, I rushed to keep up with him by his side, not giving him a second glance as he stared at me in silence.

"I'm not known for being nice," Rafayel finally spoke, his tone carefully neutral.

"Neither am I," I replied bluntly.

"I can be an asshole," he stated.

"And I can be boring," I countered.

"I can't argue with you there," he said softly. "I don't usually enjoy the company of people who aren't willing to take risks and have adventures."

I let out a hollow laugh and rolled my eyes. He had only just met me, yet he was already making assumptions about my personality here. This handsome man seemed to live in his own little bubble.

"Is that so?" I asked finally, too tired to argue with him. "Well, I wish I could say the same about you."

Rafayel pulled back, looking stung. I could see him steeling himself as his jaw tightened and his eyes widened. "What does that mean?" he asked, his voice wavering slightly.

"You're so sure you've pinned me down even though you just met me," I said, narrowing my eyes at him. "And here I am, still trying to figure you out."

"You can't read minds, Morgan," Rafayel said, arching an eyebrow. "Or...can you?"

I glared at him, crossing my arms over my chest. This was getting tiresome. What did he really want from me, anyway? I looked at him, the unspoken question plain on my face. Then I looked toward the street ahead, my apartment building peeking around the corner. We were almost there.

"Thanks for walking me home," I muttered, the words sounding hollow and forced, even to my own ears. "But you didn't have to. It was nice meeting you." I smiled tightly at him, waiting.

"There's something about you, Morgan. Something that I can't quite put my finger on."

"You mean besides the obvious?" I asked, the corners of my lips quirking into a half-smile.

"Besides that, yes," Rafayel said, flashing his perfect teeth.

Damn, if he wasn't perfect. I couldn't help but stare at him. I wanted to put my lips against his. I wanted to sink my fingers into his hair.

Shut up. No way. Shut up.

"Are you going to invite me in?" Rafayel asked, his blue-pink eyes flicking toward the apartment building. He could have been a murderer for all I knew and used blood in his paintings. Why did he want to come inside? Surely I wasn't anything to look at. Chubby, a redhead, brash. He could have his pick of anyone.

"Should I?" I let a subtle challenge color my voice.

"Maybe we can negotiate in front of a lit fireplace," he offered, glancing at me sideways. "With tea."

I couldn't contain my laughter and had to wipe a small tear from my eye. He watched me with a smirk as I struggled to catch my breath after that outburst of laughter that sounded more like a hyena's cackle.

"Well," I said, forcing myself to sound diplomatic and just as lighthearted as he. "I don't have a fireplace because it's just a studio apartment, but I have a candle. Also, tea, plus coffee. I guess I could add a bag of chips?"

Rafayel shook his head.

"Make mine a chocolate croissant and a triple shot cappuccino," he added with a straight face.

I quickly glanced at him from the corner of my eye before returning to the door. Unlocking it with the key meant I would have to turn around, which made me feel vulnerable for some reason. Maybe I wasn't ready to face being alone inside just yet. Suddenly, I felt a strong desire for companionship, for someone to continue talking to me. But why was I feeling this way?

If you can't decide, things won't go how you think they should.

Rafayel brushed a lock of hair behind his ear, eyeing the entrance with his lips pinched into a thin line.

I couldn't help but blurt out, "My apartment is a mess because of my cat," as I wrapped my arms around myself and met his gaze. It didn't seem logical to me. Was I trying to tell him my place was a mess or that I had a cat? I furrowed my brow and shook my head, trying to rid myself of the strange fog clouding my mind.

Everything smelled like Rafayel, filling my senses with something clean. The sandalwood again. Was he wearing perfume? It was unlike any scent I'd ever smelled before—masculine and floral in an odd combination of unexpected opposites. I found myself fishing for my keys before my resolve fled completely.

When I turned on the light in my apartment, every corner was illuminated and exposed all at once.

Clothes were strewn over furniture. Books lay open on the floor next to the couch, dishes in the sink. Stale air hit me, mingling with the faint hint of coffee from this morning.

He'd clearly come to the right place if he'd been expecting a mess.

Rafayel had paused in the doorway. "Wow," he said, taking it all in, stepping inside and kneeling to study my pile of novels, flipping through one. "Computer science. Thrilling."

A frown suddenly passed his lips, transforming into a small scowl. His eyes had landed on the bed, on my cat, who hadn't bothered to stir but looked at the stranger with calculating yellow eyes.

"That's Void. Say hello to the new person in our lives, Void. " I introduced Void as if he could understand what was happening.

"Why did you name it that? Because it's a black cat?" Rafayel asked, suddenly moving across the room, his eyes alight with fascination as he kneeled by the bed, still keeping his distance but leaning toward the mound of fur lying on top of the covers. I'd never had a visitor who was afraid of Void before. But I never had...well, when was the last time I had a visitor?

"Yeah. But he's not a 'demon'. Don't judge him by the color of his fur," I said, giving him a sideways look as his eyes never left Void's.

"We'll see."

"Are you hungry?" I asked, keeping the thought of coffee in the back of my mind.

I needed some form of barrier—something tangible to force an emotional cushion between us. If he wasn't hungry, maybe the disappointment would snap him back to reality. If he was hungry, perhaps the feeling of embarrassment at my lack of real hospitality would bring him to his senses. Then maybe he would leave, and all the dirty thoughts I was having would vanish with him into the night.

A blush flared into my cheeks when I acknowledged the mental images in my head.

"I'm starving," he said quietly, finally breaking away from staring at my cat. This time, he met my eyes and stood to his full height. He didn't move away, but he didn't take a step closer either. Instead, the tension between us spread outward, extending like a flame.

And I didn't want to escape the heat.

But acknowledging it felt dangerous, I twisted away, turning toward the fridge.

A hand on my shoulder stopped me, and I looked back, the flush on my cheeks I wasn't sure I could explain away. My breasts grazed his chest when I whirled to face him, a quick puff of air coming from my lips in surprise. I hadn't meant to be so close.

He towered over me, making me feel small and indescribably feminine. As if he could read my thoughts, his lips curved upward in a tiny smile.

As we stood there, our bodies were almost perfectly aligned. I couldn't help but feel the warmth radiating from his frame, and it made me wish I wasn't so conscious of it. His arm was outstretched, fingers resting on the top of the fridge, creating an intimate cocoon that I had no desire to break free from.

Not even the fridge was safe.

How had things gone from normal to not normal to the way the hell was this happening so quickly? Fuck, he was hot.

I frowned, meeting his gaze, my head tilted up as he looked down at me.

Damn him.

His body leaned in towards mine, and I couldn't help but hold my breath in anticipation. This wasn't some fantasy; it was really happening. He was lowering his face towards mine.

"This is pretty stupid," he murmured, his lips inches from mine. His hand rested on the small of my back while the other still supported his weight against the fridge door.

Under any other circumstances, our first kiss against a kitchen appliance would have been disheartening. But at that moment, I was too elated to care.

"What's stupid?" I whispered, trying to contain my own desire and not give in to him too quickly. If I succumbed to his kisses now, there would be no turning back. We would lose an innocent part of our relationship.

"That I don't want to move," he confessed, capturing my lower lip.

Passionate.

His kiss matched the intensity that radiated from him, and I couldn't help but make a slight noise, somewhere between a whimper and a moan. Was it a sigh? My body responded automatically as I surrendered myself to him, parting my lips for him and letting him explore with his tongue. I tilted my head to deepen the kiss even more.

I could feel tingles where his hands roamed and a heat between my legs that demanded attention. It felt like we were creating our own steamy atmosphere. Or maybe it was just my imagination running wild. Either way, it definitely felt like the air was thickening with desire.

I had too many thoughts and needed to let go and enjoy.

Just as quickly as he'd pulled me toward him, he pinned me to the fridge and knocked down all the magnets as he unceremoniously wedged one of his legs between mine. A container of rice shattered when it hit the floor, and I groaned as he kissed me more fiercely.

His lips were insistent, demanding, as they moved against mine. One of his hands tangled in my hair, while the other slid down my to grip my hip possessively. I could feel the hard planes of his body pressing against my softer curves, the heat of his skin seeping through our layers of clothing. A moan escaped my lips, muffled by his mouth, as his tongue delved deeper, exploring and tasting.

My hands fumbled for purchase, sliding over the smooth fabric of his jacket before finding their way underneath, fingertips grazing the taut muscles of his back through the thin fabric of his shirt. He shuddered at my touch, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he nipped at my bottom lip. The sting only added to the growing ache -

No way.

With the last amount of willpower, I pushed him off with a flat palm. Rafayel's body followed the direction, stepping back and raising his hands as if I were pointing a gun at his face. My lips parted as I struggled to speak, to give some kind of warning for whatever was happening between us, but only air was escaping, and I could swear that it was too thick to breathe.

"I'm not that kind of girl." I managed weakly, even though the words tasted like lies.

He stared at me blankly, and my cheeks began to heat. I tried to read his eyes. But his face was an expressionless mask, betraying nothing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean -" He exhaled sharply, running his hands through his messy hair and tousling it even more. "This wasn't a good idea, I'm sorry."

The rejection stung more than anticipated and a hot lump formed in my throat.

"No, no, no, I don't mean it like that!" He quickly stepped forward, gently reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder. "I was being greedy. I should be better than that; I just couldn't help myself." His hand dropped to my side. I avoided his eyes, shame eating away at me like acid.

What must he think of me? First I'd acted so cold and aloof, then practically attacked him and now... now I couldn't stop replaying that moment on repeat. His leg wedging between mine. My nails dug into his back. How I'd nearly... oh, the way I had writhed -

"Don't do that," Rafayel said softly, pressing a finger against my lips to cut me off mid-thought. It was then that I realized I'd been whispering something to myself, the words jumbling together yet falling from my lips endlessly, too quick and faint to fully comprehend.

"It's been a strange night," he continued, a small smile on his lips. "But that doesn't mean you can't spend more time with me."

His smile was contagious. It spread across his face, making it impossible not to smile back. The embarrassment I initially felt melted away, and a soft laugh bubbled up, taking me by surprise.

"Sure, sure," I agreed without knowing what he wanted. He hadn't asked for anything specific, but I agreed to something anyway.

"Really, Morgan... let me make it up to you this weekend," Rafayel's bright eyes scanned my face eagerly. "Let me apologize properly."

I raised an eyebrow at him, biting my lower lip nervously, wondering why I would even consider saying no to him.

"Alright," my voice came out as barely a whisper. I swallowed hard as a memory of his lips against mine flashed through my mind.

He retrieved a pen from his back pocket. My wrist tingled with anticipation as he delicately grasped it and jotted down a phone number. "Just send me a text," he murmured, his voice gentle and soothing. I avoided meeting his eyes as I nodded and shrugged, giving him the desired response. Instead, I directed my attention to my cat, who had perched across the windowsill.

MAEVE

Sylus firmly gripped my wrist while the other reached inside his coat. I heard the distinct click of a gun being cocked.

My throat tightened as I comprehended the gravity of the situation - whoever had barged into the club earlier did not do so by chance. It was a calculated move. And now, I was caught in the middle of it. But I had faced more dangerous circumstances before. In my line of work, I encountered all kinds of shady characters and dubious individuals. No matter their background, everyone had a bit of a thug in them when push came to shove.

As we ducked into another side street, Sylus paused, his grip on my wrist loosening slightly. The rain had started again, not heavy or torrential like before, but a gentle, persistent drizzle that coated everything in a fine mist. The droplets clung to his silver hair, making it gleam like polished metal in the muted light of the alley.

He turned to face me, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. The mist from the rain clung to his eyelashes. Slowly, deliberately, he lowered his gun, the click of the safety echoing in the narrow space between us like a sigh of relief.

"You're shivering," Sylus observed, his voice low. But beneath the surface, I detected a hint of steel, a reminder that this was a man who didn't take no for an answer. The gun was put away, and he shrugged off his coat in one fluid motion. The dark fabric was heavy and well-worn, lined with deep red silk that shimmered faintly in the dim light. He held it out to me, an unspoken offer hanging between us.

I hesitated, my pride warring with the very real need for warmth. The possible implications of it. "I'm good."

He raised an eyebrow. "Don't be stubborn."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he was already draping the coat over my shoulders, his hands lingering longer than necessary. The fabric was still warm from his body heat, and I couldn't help but sink into it. The weight of the coat was oddly comforting despite the circumstances. The subtle scent of cologne clung to the collar, all rich leather and polished wood, but it didn't feel fake or try-too-hard.

The car was parked around the block. It was sleek, black, and undoubtedly expensive. It gleamed like an onyx in the dim light. The chrome trim seemed to shimmer with a subtle elegance, and I knew instantly this was a vehicle that cost more than most people's annual salary. As soon as I entered the vehicle, a wave of relief washed over me, and I sighed.

I noticed Sylus's body language shift as he settled deeper into his seat, his muscles visibly relaxing. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, giving away his attempt at nonchalance. But I saw it all—the subtle changes in his posture and the faint glimmer of relief in his eyes. Perhaps he thought I didn't notice. I felt a pang of curiosity. It made sense that he wasn't everyone's favorite person, but what had he escaped back there?

The soft hum of the car's engine, the dim glow of the dashboard lights, and the muted sounds of the city outside snapped me back to reality. I leaned back in my seat and observed how the car lights cast a flattering glow on his features and the sharp angles of his cheekbones.

"Is this a normal night for you?" I inquired, adjusting my position and slipping my arms into his coat to cover up my revealing attire. The strong aroma enveloped me every time I shifted.

"This isn't your concern, but usually no. That wasn't even supposed to happen tonight."

Sylus remained unnervingly calm, his strong hands gripping the wheel with a firmness that belied his relaxed demeanor. His jaw was set in a firm line. I sat beside him, unable to look away from his focused expression and concentration. The droplets of rain and neon lights of the city were a vortex of color against the windshield.

"I live six blocks from here," I whispered, "I'll walk. You can just drop me off here-"

"I'm taking you home," his tone was decisive and final, hinting at a deeper purpose behind his actions. If I didn't know any better.

Interesting.

He focused on the road ahead, expertly maneuvering through the late-night city traffic precisely and efficiently. The scent of rich leather was in my nose—heated seats? It was a foreign concept to me—sheer opulence, a luxury.

Maeve, seriously?

"Just there," I said, pointing to the familiar building and smiling nervously at him. "Thank you." I tried to sound casual, but my voice came out breathless.

The car stopped. As I reached for the door handle, Sylus's hand gently wrapped around my wrist. I felt a shiver run down my spine from the gentle pressure. We held each other's gaze for what felt like an eternity, his eyes searching mine with an intensity that made my heart race. Then, he wordlessly reached into the glovebox and pulled out a sleek, black umbrella. Its handle was adorned with a silver design that shimmered in the dim light of the car.

As he handed me the umbrella, our fingers brushed against each other. In that brief instant, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes, a hint of exhaustion. It could have been my own tiredness coloring my perception. Maybe he was just as exhausted as I was. I quickly pushed those thoughts away; there was no way I would feel any empathy towards this man. Not towards anyone associated with Onychinus, especially him. They controlled everything from the glitzy skyscrapers towering over the skyline to the gritty back alleys where secrets were kept and deals were made. They called him "la sombra" - the shadow - in my neighborhood.

"Keep it," Sylus said, "You'll need it more than I will."

I hesitated, my fingers brushing against his as I held the umbrella. The energy between us was a crackling current that made the air feel thick and heavy. I knew I should leave, that lingering here would only complicate things further, but I could not move.

"I..." My voice trailed off, the words sticking in my throat. What could I possibly say to him after everything that had happened tonight? What was he thinking?

"My name isn't Luna," I said finally, the words tumbling in a rush.

Sylus's eyes widened slightly at my confession, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before he quickly regained his composure. His hand remained on my wrist, his touch warm and steady despite the revelation.

"You didn't seem like the type to give your real name to strangers."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding in my chest as I met his gaze. "It's Maeve."

His fingertips trailed lightly over my skin as he pulled away. When he said nothing, my hand grasped the door handle, and I looked back one last time.

"Keep an eye on Onychinus—some of them seem shady as fuck." I said.

Sylus's eyebrows shot up in surprise at my parting words, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He let out a low chuckle, the sound rich and warm in the confines of the car. "Bold words coming from a woman who admitted to using a fake name."

I felt a smile tug at my lips in response, the tension between us easing slightly. "Yeah, well, I never claimed to be a saint."

With that, I pushed open the car door and stepped out into the rain, the cool droplets hitting my face and mingling with the coat's warmth—I guess he didn't expect that back, either. I opened the umbrella he had given me, its silver handle fitting perfectly in my grip as I held it aloft.

"Maeve. Interesting name." The man's voice was like a rumble of thunder from the car behind me, sending shock waves from my head to my toes. His reaction was anticipated, but at this point, I wasn't so sure of myself anymore. I just wanted to fall into bed and pass out—not to be hypnotized by a walking paradox.

Maeve. Maeve. Maeve.

Who's the mask, and who's the girl beneath it?

I shut the door of the car.

ATLAS

As I stood in the bar's bathroom, staring at my reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but wonder what the actual fuck was going on. I looked like a mess, a tangled bundle of dark curls and wire-thin limbs. The fluorescent lights overhead cast an unflattering glow on my light olive skin, making the scar above my left eyebrow stand out like a beacon. My green eyes looked dull and tired, the gold flecks near the pupils muted. I rubbed a hand over my jawline, feeling the sharp angles and definition that always made me look like I was perpetually scheming something.

Who was I, really? A tech-obsessed, gadget-hoarding, restless bundle of energy with a penchant for getting into weird situations? Or was I just a guy who'd stumbled into a conversation with a stranger and now wondered what had just happened?

My phone chimed from somewhere in my jeans pocket. Again. I reached in and pulled it out with a sigh, looking to see a text from my dad:

Hey, kiddo, just checking in.

I stared at it for a few seconds before typing out a reply:

Yeah, I'm okay.

It wasn't the truth, but it wasn't exactly a lie, either. Not in that moment, at least.

When I left the bathroom, I shouldn't have been surprised to find the mysterious stranger gone because, of course. I wandered over to the bar, ordering another drink on autopilot as I replayed our conversation. He'd been intriguing, with an air of quiet confidence that drew me in. We'd only scratched the surface of small talk, but I'd caught glimpses of something more beneath his words. Hell, if I knew what, though. I glanced over at the empty space where we'd sat, my eyes lingering on the spot. It felt almost like I had...met him before? But that could be said about many instances, could it not? Sometimes, we just have that sort of connection... And what the fuck is that? I had no idea, really.

But there was no denying the faint pull, the faint impression of a long-buried memory I couldn't quite recall. My phone chimed again, making me nearly jump out of my skin. My hand went to the back pocket of my jeans, my fingerprint unlocking the phone to a message:

nice meeting you :)

The message seemed innocuous enough, but something about it felt off. I typed a reply, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard as I debated what to say.

Yeah, same.

I finally sent it, trying to sound nonchalant despite the butterflies in my stomach. I shoved the phone in my pocket, grabbed my jacket, and went to the door. The cool night air hit me like a slap in the face, and I took a deep breath, trying to clear my head. What was it about Xavier that had me so tied up in knots? I couldn't shake the feeling that our conversation had been more than just small talk, that there was something beneath the surface that I hadn't quite grasped. I glanced back at the bar, half-expecting to see him watching me. But the doorway was empty, and I was alone and had to work in the morning.

I started walking home, my thoughts spiraling in circles. Was I being overly paranoid or overly hopeful? I had no idea. And I knew the answer to that question would linger until I saw the guy again—if I saw him again. Either way, I needed to stop dwelling and focus on sleeping. Maybe my head would be clearer, and I could sort through my tangled emotions. But just as I turned onto my street, the shoddy apartment building in my sight, my phone buzzed.

What was he doing, texting me again? And why did I feel excited about talking to him some more? He had ditched me, and I wanted an apology. Or maybe I didn't because I was overanalyzing things and—

Just open the damn message. You know you're dying to find out what it says.

With a sigh, I pressed my thumb against my phone, waiting for the faint vibration signaling that the code had been accepted. A little banner popped up.

had to run.

I responded quickly, my thumbs moving on autopilot.

no worries, had to run too

I waited for a response, my eyes fixed on the screen as the seconds ticked by. And then, just as I was starting to think he wouldn't respond, my phone buzzed again.

sry bout that

I smiled to myself. We both apologized for having to run as if our busyness had somehow connected us. I should have been mad; he had just randomly left, after all.

np, gotta do what you gotta do

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should add anything else. But before I could decide, my phone buzzed again.

yeah, exactly

As I walked towards my apartment building, lost in thought as I fumbled for my keys, I heard a faint "Hey" coming from the direction of the entryway.

I let out a jerk in surprise and turned to see Maeve, my neighbor from across the hall, standing under the awning, holding a closed umbrella and smoking a cigarette. But something was off about her. Her eyes looked sunken, and her usual laid-back demeanor was replaced by a nervous energy.

I took a step closer, my curiosity piqued, and that's when I noticed the glitter on her cheekbone like she'd been dusted with stardust. She had an expensive-looking black coat wrapped around her.

"You scared the shit out of me." I breathed, trying to calm my racing heart. "You okay?"

Maeve's eyes darted around the entryway, her gaze flicking from the doors to the stairs and back again. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, her voice tight. "I just...I don't have my key, that's all."

"You don't have your key?" I repeated, trying to process this information. "What do you mean?"

Maeve shrugged, her shoulders barely moving under the expensive-looking coat. "I mean, I don't have my key, dumbass," she said, her voice flat.

A bubble of annoyance rose in me. I was already a mess of nerves and impatience, and here Maeve was, casually dropping 'dumbass' into our conversation. Maybe she had good reason to be so blunt. Maybe not. Either way, it irked me.

"Jeez, what crawled up your ass and died?" I shot back, unable to stop myself.

Maeve's fingers twitched, but she kept her cool. "Look, can you just let me inside the stairway?" she said, her voice still tight. "I'm just having a terrible night."

I raised an eyebrow, still feeling a bit annoyed. "A bad night?" I repeated. "You're telling me. You show up out of nowhere, and then you snap at me like I'm the idiot."

Maeve's eyes flashed; momentarily, I thought she would lash out at me again. But then her expression softened, and she looked away, tossing her cigarette and stamping it out with her heel.

Her apology was laced with a hint of desperation, her voice trembling slightly as she spoke. "I'm sorry. It's been a bad night." The words were laced with a quiet vulnerability, a sense of defeat that seemed to hang like a mist.

I nodded sympathetically, recognizing the tone. "Hey, don't worry about it. Come on, let's get you inside."

She followed me silently, her gaze fixed on her feet as I unlocked the stairway door.

As we began our ascent up the stairs, I asked, "So, do you want to tell me what happened?" My voice was gentle and encouraging, but Maeve's response was immediate and curt.

"Long story," she said.

"I'm all ears," I said.

Maeve's gaze flickered, and momentarily, I thought I saw a glimmer of fear. But then her expression hardened, and she raised her eyebrows. "You're really curious, aren't you?" she asked her voice a little lighter now, a hint of irony creeping into her tone.

"I'm just trying to be a good neighbor," I said, forcing a smile.

"You're not very good at it," she snorted, her tone playful but with an undercurrent of cynicism.

I laughed. "Hey, I'm trying," I said as we reached the top of the stairs.

As I pushed open the door to the hallway, Maeve turned to me, her expression suddenly serious. "The leader of Onychinus pulled me out of a strip club so I wouldn't get shot and drove me here," she said, her voice flat and matter-of-fact but with a hint of underlying trauma.

I stared at her, my mind reeling to process what she'd just said. "The leader of Onychinus?"

Maeve nodded, her expression still straight-faced, but her eyes bore into mine as if daring me to react. "Yeah. That's what I said," she replied, a hint of impatience in her voice.

My mind raced, trying to fit the pieces together and understand the truth, but I decided it wasn't worth it to try to determine whether she was serious.

So, instead of further investigating her encounter, I just looked at her until she snorted and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I know, I'm a real thrill ride."

I didn't know quite how to respond, so I laughed, relieved, and weirded out all at once. It seemed like I was finally starting to understand exactly what kind of strange individual lived in 11B with her kid and her grandma and, as I had just learned, worked at a strip club. Yikes.

"Help me get into my apartment," Maeve said, her voice firm and demanding. "I don't want to wake my grandma."

I raised an eyebrow, taken aback by her tone. "Okaaaay."

I followed Maeve to her apartment door, where she stood with her arms crossed, looking expectant. I examined the door, trying to figure out how to get her in without a key. I checked the door handle, the lock, and the surrounding area, my mind racing with possibilities.

After a few moments of silence, I spotted a small gap between the door and the frame. I smiled to myself, thinking I might have found a solution. I pulled out my wallet and extracted a thin, flexible card, which I carefully inserted into the gap. I manipulated the lock with some finagling, and the door creaked open.

Maeve's expression changed from annoyance to surprise, and she raised an eyebrow at me. "Nice work," she said, her voice softer now.

I shrugged, brushed aside the praise, and gestured to the apartment entrance. "After you."

She stepped inside, turning and grasping the door before giving me a serious look. "Thanks. Just... don't ask about any of this."

"You can count on that," I assured her. "There are many things I've decided not to ask about regarding you."

Maeve cracked a slight smile at this, and for a second, we held each other's gaze before she nodded and pushed the door closed. I blinked and turned to walk across the hall to my apartment, still processing my strange encounters that evening. When I slipped off my shoes, my phone buzzed again. I pulled it out, expecting a text from a friend or a notification from an app.

But instead, I saw a message from Xavier:

wut r u doin this wknd?

[mitskijamie]

sry jamie x isaac is so funny and perfect i need all of your silliest headcanons

They're both really scared of spiders, so whenever there's a spider in the house, they have to work together to concoct a super elaborate plan to get it out. (Not kill it because they're both secretly big sweethearts. But get it out.) They'll be standing on chairs, wearing bike helmets and safety goggles, waving brooms with cups taped on the ends around, screaming crying and throwing up over a spider that's like 2 mm across

Literally everyone knows they're hooking up (they're SO fucking obvious about it) but they're convinced that they're being sneaky and it's a big secret. They especially don't want Roy to find out (because they're pretty sure it’s against the rules) (it's not) but he 100% knows and absolutely couldn't care less, and actually sort of wishes they would just tell him so he doesn't have to engage in the elaborate charade of pretending he doesn't know

Every day they play FIFA for like 3 hours straight, have wild sex on the couch, and immediately go right back to FIFA. FIFA is like their second full time job basically

Isaac gives Jamie two haircuts per season because Jamie is so special to him. But no more than two. Jamie is his boyfriend, not the fucking king of England

Colin third wheels them constantly, but they don't really mind. Prick gang reunited

They go on the most random dates. It's never dinner or dancing or cocktails it's always like. The petting zoo. Indoor skydiving. Slime Museum

They're both ipad babies and have to have a youtube video on while they eat dinner. They love football video essays and videos about "demonic" lost episodes of spongebob or whatever

They always ask to room together at away matches, and the guys in the rooms next to them always think they're fucking because they can hear the bedframe squeaking and the headboard hitting the wall, but actually they're both jumping on their beds. They fucking love jumping on hotel beds. Jamie can do a flip off of one bed and land on the other one and Isaac thinks it's the most badass thing in the world. Isaac tries to do it once and bruises his tailbone and can't play the next day and Roy almost kills them both

(But to be honest, they do also love fucking in hotel rooms.)

Georgie absolutely LOVES Isaac. She thinks he is just the coolest ever. They play animal crossing together <3

[felltheadequate]

A Collection in Love and Loss

Queerness Through the 20th Century

Poet's note: Queer people have always existed. From ancient times, to the 18th century with individuals such as the Public Universal Friend and more than one founder of the United States, to the 1800s with people like Oscar Wilde, and throughout the 20th century's many conflicts and joys, we have always been here. And along with these famous, influential figures, each century was home to countless regular, unassuming people, all gone unremembered. These four poems seek to tell the stories of those forgotten individuals, one era and fight — and victory — at a time, and to reflect on the progress made and what still must be done. Enjoy, and stay amazing.

The Mud.

When I do look into those deep brown eyes, Beneath their heavy brows and cut-short hair I see a river — ancient, beauty rare — Of all that you still hope to be, to rise Unto. And all beyond the mud, the cries, The pain and fear and loss and how unfair This horrid fucking butcher block's cruel fare Has been. What utter fools we were. Unwise.

I'd like to say I love you. And I do. But love cannot exist within these walls Of mud. Our stolen time I too regret. Remember me when you go home, will you? Remember after I've gone o'er to fall. Remember. Please. Remember this duet.

Institute Dead.

They burned it. They burned it all. The papers. The books. It's gone. This is how a country falls.

His knowledge filled these halls. He'd done so much. So much work. They burned it. They burned it all.

It's getting worse. We feel it, a cast pall All around us. The beasts in the night lurk. It's gone. This is how a country falls.

We had hope. A bugle so warm in its call. Now topples that rook. They burned it. They burned it all.

They've made laws. We're un-German. Running out of luck. It's gone. This is how a country falls.

It's been three years. Power growing tall. Camps. Marched into the Rhineland. Versailles denied. Peace shook. They burned it. They burned it all. It's gone. This is how a country falls.

One of the first things the Nazis did upon gaining power was to destroy the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or Institute of Sexology. Led by Magnus Hirschfeld, a gay Jewish man, the Institute was responsible for much research into transgender, gay, and intersex topics, as well as offering contraceptives, services such as alcoholism and STI treatment, and gynecological exams. On May 6, 1933, the Institute was attacked by the German Student Union. Four days later, its contents would be publicly burned. It is unknown how much research was destroyed in the fires.

1987.

I often think on what would have happened if I had turned left. I never would have met you, for one. Never looked into your eyes. Never felt the firm, loving hold of your arms When I felt like shit. When I got kicked out. "A waste Of a girl." "An abomination on God's Earth." Oh God. What I'd do to have more time.

Time. It's funny. One day you're convinced you'll have left The state, the country — if things get really fucked, the earth — And pay no more heed to staying put than rolled eyes. The next you're unsure about everything but where that bin of paper and waste Is sat in your room. And even that is viewed between your hands on your face, and your arms.

I first got tattoos on both of my arms. My family didn't approve. Said I would regret them in time. I say that letting my skin stay all neat and pretty is a waste. I got more. Not much clear skin left. There's a lot of blue. It matches your eyes. The composite color of the earth.

I remember our date in a museum. We were looking at a photo of the earth. You sighed. Your jacket covered all but a bit of skin on your arms. I saw you examining it. Your eyes Flickered back and forth, almost keeping time, Metronomes of wonder and beauty. "It feels like all that's left On there is hate and waste."

I remember hearing about the diagnosis. The waste. You had said from some phonebooth that we needed to talk. I felt upon me the weight of the earth As I waited for you. Something in your voice. Nothing but me and the silent house left. Rubbing at the skin on my arms, Anxiously hoping it would be okay. Wanting to stop time. My soul was crushed when I finally heard you. When I looked into your eyes.

Now they're closed. Those beautiful blue eyes. Why? Why must I see such waste? WHY THE FUCK DIDN'T WE HAVE MORE TIME Why couldn't you have more years, days, hours on this earth? Why can't I feel your arms just one more time? But even through this pain, I'm so glad I didn't turn left.

The memory of those eyes. I can picture them: composite color of the earth. I felt the waste in our final embrace, long after it had taken over your arms. Not enough time. I'm all that's left.

The Turning Tide.

Unaccounted murder here. Hate crime there. New laws governing our bodies this week and next. On and on and on it goes.

"Just keep it away from the children!" from the people fighting child labor laws. More performative, hateful bullshit. On and on and on it goes.

Good people speaking at school board meetings. Campaigns to hold the right people accountable. Community forming. The tune picks up.

"We're here! We're queer! Get used to it!" "Death before detransition!" Chants are issued. The tune picks up.

Law making things easier for once. Maybe it will continue. It's in Germany, but still The tune picks up.

Who knows where we'll be in fifty years?

Years. Years upon decades upon centuries of history. We've been here a while, you know, despite what your uncle on Facebook would have you believe. From ancient times onward. As the fascists rose to prominence. Through disease and hate and death And a whole generation butchered on razorwire we have existed and fought tooth and nail. We have always been here. Get with it Or get out of our way.

(18 April 2024)

[krirebr]

Which one of your current babes from one of your series is going to plan the most romantic date night?

Ohhh, series? So that's I Know I Should Know Better Curtis, More Than This Ransom, and Ransom again from my Psycho Killer AU (I'm biting the bullet and finally just calling it that).

I surprised myself with this one. At first, I was like "Well, it's obviously Curtis once they finally get together!" But then once I thought about it a little more, I realized the correct answer is actually

Psycho Killer Ransom! (Answer below the cut for spoiler reasons)

As twisted and wild as Vampire!Ransom and his Little Rabbit are, they do seem to have genuinely fallen in love. 😂 And now that he's turned her, he is just so, so fond and completely smitten.

So, I think he'd whisk you away to some exciting locale you've never been to before and then arrange for an after-hours tour of that place's iconic art museum or something (by compelling the security guards, natch). Then when you get to the atrium, with the moonlight pouring in, it's all arranged for a candlelit meal, with food there that he hunted for you himself, just to your tastes. Then, once you've both had your fill, you probably fuck under some priceless work of art and whisper your feelings to each other. 😂😂😂

Ahahahahaha! That may have gotten away from me a little. 😂😂😂

[yallemagne]

We be out here.

Okay so, I was away for the weekend on a little vacation. It was presented to me as a beach vacation where we'd be doing a DnD oneshot. And then we got there and it turns out the rest of the group perceived it as a DnD trip where "eh, fuck the beach actually". We did fortunately go to the beach, I got to return to my home the ocean. And then I was buried in a deep hole. I got out obv.

For the oneshot, it was posed as we were attending the Hero Olympics. That was a front. The House of Heroes was actually a House of Horrors. What did I play? Well, for context, I don't do DnD. This is the second time I have done it ever. After my friend mentioned cowboys in conversation, I decided to play Quincey Morris. One of the requirements was to give your PC's greatest fear and greatest motivation. Quincey's fear? Bats (they ate his damn horse). Quincey's motivation? Friendship (the state motto of Texas). Fortunately and unfortunately I killed it on all the wisdom saving throws so we didn't get Quincey under the influence of fear toxin. Which is sad bc the DM actually thanked me for giving him such a funny fear.

Anyhow, the game had overall more faults than strengths, but the thing is that my friend was also playing a cowboy >:))) so Quincey was of course drawn to him, and we had a little bit of role play. The DM was intrigued and put us in a room together. There were two small beds and Quincey had the idea to stack them on top of each other to make bunk beds. When we told the DM, she asked us to roll to see if we were successful. For context, we gave Quincey a proficiency in woodworking bc I figured he'd be good at whittling, so I was asked to roll with advantage.

DON'T EVEN MATTER BC WE BOTH ROLLED NAT 20S!!

(I had the purple dice and was briefly confused by the symbol when my friend said "that's a nat 20" and the table went absolutely wild)

So, impossibly, we were able to take this very sparsely decorated room and make a perfect bunk bed adorned with those fancy bed curtains and fairy lights, it was amazing. We also built a table somehow, and as we kept passing our wisdom saving throws, we just played a game of cards.

The doors were locked and so we both decided to shoot at it. Quincey lacks proficiency with his gun, so I rolled a 4-1=3. Shrugged it off and said "eh, that is what usually happens" and the table laughed :))).

But after that point, all I really got to do was shoot once at an enemy (a skin bat). I got a nat 20 again. But I didn't kill the bat, so dang. And then combat ended and a member of the group straight up left to take his gf on a date so we couldn't continue ijoergjp literally what the hell.

Next day we went to a Medieval Torture Museum and I was with another friend, different friend, and they said that as we went further down the hall, the torture devices probably got worse. I mused that "I just hope they don't have the Judas Cradle". And we turn around and what is behind us? A display of the Judas Cradle. It was a magical moment. Lost our damn minds.

Then we got done, I found friend who also played a cowboy, we went into a steampunk store and I got a BAT!!

And a bowtie and my friend got me a vampire pin. And that was the highlight of the day, we could have just left immediately after, but we unfortunately stayed for too long, it grew painful, we finally went home, ditching the rest of the vacation group.

It was overall a bad trip. I got overwhelmed and pissed way more often than I had fun, the cons outnumber the pros. There were too many people and too many of those people I found I positively disliked. But I can just choose to linger more on the good things, to place the few moments of joy higher than the several moments of GRAGHHAAAA. One of the highlights of the trip was when we (me, cowboy friend, torture museum friend, and a quiet acquaintance) went to the fucking grocery store on the first day for groceries. We were on vacation and one of my favourite parts was literally a chore because I was doing the chore with people I liked.

That's some old people shit, I'm old now ojpier.

[aqueeracademic]

morse being queer (and other commentary) pt 6:

season 2, episode 2, “Nocturne”:

TW: discusses d*ath of a child

- this episode is all kinds of fucked up so brace yourselves for what i’m about to say

- little kids are creepy as shit don’t come for me

- jakes sitting in the chair closest to morse

- no shot he’s actually paying attention to the sports game

- i missed this show aww

- lucy boynton AND anya taylor joy in this episode is so wild

- i understand he’s dying but there was no reason to mess up priceless artifacts w his blood tbh

- once again NO SUBTITLES so i have 0 clue what thursday is saying

- morse’s panic™️ when joan jokes about going on a date

- morse doesn’t know anything about sports which means he’s gay

- but he DOES recognize indian style daggers

- morse likes bugs (i, too, am autistic)

- strange <33333333333

- i feel really bad for this girl given that her uncle is dead and all but she really needs to reconsider her dye job

- i love lucy boynton but this character makes me want to pull my hair out

- morse connecting w the Weird™️ girl at the school is smth that can be so personal

- “this is a very happy school” girl r u tryna be suspicious?????

- i know that this is a serious tv show but i was rooting for it to be an actual ghost the entire time

- them talking about morse is so 😐

- like they’re RIGHT but they shouldn’t say it

- “snuggle down spit spot” ok didn’t realize mary poppins was present in this episode

- lowkey this episode is scary as shit and i’m tired of pretending it isn’t

- don’t try and tell me u weren’t scared watching this

- debryn and morse!

- perfectly unbroken eye contact this entire scene

- try and name and single person morse is more comfortable around you can’t

- this museum curator is sooooooooooo

- if i speak.

- morse lying about being interested in football just to please jakes is so crazy to me

- literally the definition of pretending to like something for a crush

- frazil supremacy

- “a feeling of” -dramatic ass pause- “dread.”

- brother? just say it?

- monica 🥰🥰🥰

- every girl in this episode has absolutely atrocious hair i’m living for it (not u martha ur perfect)

- opening a girls school in a mansion famed for a gruesome and unsolved murder is perhaps a terrible idea and they should have thought twice about it

- thursdays tie is so tight wtf is he doing

- morse is obviously gorgeous but there are some angles where he’s so stunning it makes me sick

- the county police are so 🤮

- morse guessing immediately it was a prank and being shot down despite being right is 😐😐😐

- thursday will defend morse to the ends of the earth

- lady has a cane AND a broken arm she needs to catch a break

- morse just stealing the book is wild i would be so mad

- this lady telling him about the ghost and leading him to where she saw it and then insisting he don’t go there is so weird

- like don’t talk about potential evidence of an intruder and then tell the COP to not go up there

- can u guess whether i believe in ghosts yet?

- PLOT TWIST I DO

- the face he made when he saw it was a bible was so fucking funny

- bro was 🫤

- PLEASE why is this episode so scary

- had to turn all the damn lights on in my room

- “morse says he saw a child u can take him at his word”

- GO THURSDAY GO

- morse in a wife beater

- why tf didn’t he close his door all the way if he was gonna start taking clothes off

- look at his freckles i’m so sick

- “i got a mate over at county says u saw something”

- this translates directly to “i have a friend at the department you were teamed up with today and i asked him about you because i’m in love with you”

- i forgot how long these episodes are

- these americans are so fucking sweet i want justice for them asap

- it’s time for me to confess that i actually don’t understand a single case in this show

- i never understand the solution tbh

- i’m j watching bc it’s pretty

- thursday’s son asking morse if they were “going to do it tonight” and morse getting absolutely terrified

- “gonna do what” 😨😨

- babe calm down

- had to switch to the tv bc i cannot understand a word thursday is saying

- need the captioning

- jakes just smiling at morse while watching him walk away is so 💅

- this girl using the word “breeding” when referring to building a family definitely suggests a little fruitiness i fear

- sexy curator taking his glasses off seductively to look at morse™️

- the one thing this episode got right was how shit morse is with women

- them realizing it’s joan on the date is so fucking funny

- “where would you like your ashes scattered?” (morse doesn’t believe in burials?????)

- it is so bizarre to me that this teacher would be showering anywhere near a classroom and even more bizarre that she’s walking the hallway in a nightie and barefoot

- how does she think gently tapping the window is gonna get his attention when he’s already halfway across the field???

- this is why all the women die in horror movies

- joan literally saying they should kiss and him being like “that would never happen bc coffee is gross” is so real of him

- her lashing out insanely at the girl playing the piano and then being like “what’s happening to us” like you fucking psychopath that was ALL YOU who is “us”????

- “they were of their time” = racist

- “all women together? it’s against nature” sir what the fuck do u mean by that

- this episode is not nearly gay enough for my tastes 🫤

- STOP WHY AM I SCARED

- him thinking it was bunty and being upset about it makes me physically sick

- if you pay attention to jakes during the scene they’re discussing how the little girl got killed you’ll cry just like i did!

- his reaction to it is so visceral

- “gently, please” FINAL STRAW

- debryn fully relying on morse to solve the case is so personal

- the way that morse is spurred by debryn’s faith in him???

- morse has been awake for more than 36 hours how is that even possible

- morse is so good for telling bunty it wasn’t her fault and insisting she believe him

- morse absolutely LOVES it when the heterosexuals are at fault for something

- “haven’t you ever been lonely?” and then the camera focusing on morse ILL BE SICK

- jakes also absolutely loves blaming the hets

- “and you didn’t think to offer that up before now?” 😑

- get him!

- an entire phone call to a police station was MISSED because morse had an Epiphany™️ and never answered

- the way shaun evans has to deliver the explanation monologue 4-5 times in a row perfectly?? THATS acting

- they are driving WAYYYYY TOOOOO SLOWWWWWWW

- guys there is a murderer in the house RIGHT. NOW.

- go faster.

- ok i lied earlier this episode makes sense

- but most of the time i have 0 clue what’s going on

- i also lied when i said the curator was sexy he’s a murderer so i hate him and he’s gross

- maud being the only child who didn’t know who he was and also the only child who was a victim of him is so fucking sickening

- “don’t mind me, just make sure the girls are alright.” jakes i love you

- how did that fall take Black out but not kill morse??? is morse indestructible?

- i’m never gonna recover from the knowledge that the surviving child was blamed for the muders and hidden away because she had Down syndrome

- episode gets a 7/10 from me for being really good but not gay at all