#even the sex-related call outs have only been straight people

[bidean-byedean]

aside from my own glee at the hilarious ways Eddie could be reminded that Buck and Tommy are fucking, not just bros hanging, we shouldn't forget that it's actually important for the show to be explicit about their relationship. just like it's important to show Hen and Karen's relationship as sexual and romantic. queer sex is still more censored, considered more explicit somehow than hetero sex, which we see on the show all the time!

Buck asserting his boundaries with Eddie is absolutely not about shipping or even them really, it should be about the show asserting boundaries with the audience. Buck/Tommy is different from Buck&Eddie and Eddie&Tommy, this is "/" vs "&" and Eddie happens to be the person to facilitate this best.

I don't need the show to be explicit about their sex lives for my own gratification, I need it to have continuity in Buck's sexual behaviour to normalise his queerness and everyday queer sexuality.

[shaisuki]

𝗔 𝗚𝗔𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗙 𝗖𝗔𝗧 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗠𝗢𝗨𝗦𝗘

ft. bully! gojo satoru and geto suguru

content warnings bullying, university au, heavy bullying, degradation, humiliation, threats, blackmails, she/her pronouns, sabotage, bribes, blow jobs, cunnilingus, name calling (slut, whore, being called pig related names), noncon, dubcon, dacryphilia, penetrative sex, implied spanking, anal sex, double penetration, nonconsensual recording, dead dove do not eat.

notes it's been long since i've paid attention on this one and for @bimbosandbubbles, vanny. thank you for inspiring me to finish this one. semi part 2 here. part 3.

SERIES MASTERLIST

synopsis evading your bullies isn't a good idea so they take you to learn your lesson.

at the start of your uni days, you expected life would open a new path for you. meeting new people from different cities or in the international, new experiences and a way for you to start a new life with a degree after college but you shouldn't have planned anything for yourself as life had different plans for you. to mock you and spat at your face for being naive.

stuck in the endless game of cat and mouse with the university's golden duo.

his bright blue eyes peering behind his dark glasses while he watch the busybodies of students walks through the busy hallways of the university. searching for a certain someone that has been the sole enjoyment of his for the last few months. the only one who have lasted them for so long.

spreading his long arms at the back of the bench. legs spread in an inviting manner as he leans back, head thrown back. looking at the person sitting besides him.

“suguru, are you sure she'll show up?” gojo whines, asking the dark-haired male with the same footing as his in the university. looks and popularity-wise.

taking a puff from his cigarette, geto turns his eyes to him before looking at the students coming out for their next classes. blowing out the smoke before replying to him. his purple eyes glints.

“patience, satoru. she will show up.” anticipating the return of their favorite plaything. you could such be a tease at time like this.

it was time. your eyes rapidly searching for them. hoping to avoid the duo that everybody have singing their names. you don't want to deal another humiliation nor degrading remarks coming from them. you prayed. prayed and prayed, hoping someone will hear your pleas. clutching the straps of your bag tighter as you step outside of your class.

you began to made your way to your next class. you were glad many students were still present and crowding the hallways but you could never be so sure. passing the crowd with an apology to your lips as you occasionally bump into them but you keep your guard up, avoiding to look in the courtyard. you keep your sight straight ahead but you could feel your eyes tear up when a sudden shove from a busy student hit you. the collision making you look in the direction where the duo was waiting for you.

even at the distance, you can see geto's eyes fixated on you. a smirk curls in his lips. shooting you a playful smile at your direction.

your prayer wasn't heard that day.

scrambling into your feet and pretends you didn't see him. making yourself blend in the crowd and disappeared into the place where you only know. your heart beating a mile per minute, running away from them.

“there she is, satoru.” geto called out to his friend. making gojo straighten himself up and looks where geto is looking at. you're running away from them. how sad. how stupid.

thinking you could easily escape them and blending in the crowd. clever girl. they thought but they couldn't miss you. like predators marking their prey to be devoured. they know you more than you know yourself. exchanging looks and geto smirks while gojo chuckles. fuck, you interest them more.

two cats letting the mouse escape and corner it again before they can fully escape in their grasp.

looking around, you made sure there's no one following you. no signs of the white hair and dark long hair best friends lurking around. taking the more quiet place that students use as shortcut when in a rush.

you just wanted a peaceful college life. not being a playtoy for the duo who passed you around like you were some cheap whore. you want to ask someone to help you but how could they help you. some attempts were made and the good souls who believes in you where blacklisted from the university for some unknown reasons.

you didn't know how much power gojo held and the words coming from geto's mouth enticing people who hang from his every word and realizing it only at the end.

gojo satoru is the only son and the heir of a multi-million company. who made a name for himself in the campus. the pretty boy who have different arm candies hanging in his arms weekly.

geto suguru who you doesn't know much but made himself popular along with gojo in the campus. charming he is and had a fan club made for him and to his best friend. they're the best if people were asked about them.

and you. you were just nothing but a toy to them. a past time when they're bored and you're left like nothing when they're done with you.

they won't follow you, do they? looking behind you to check and you almost let out a breath of relief. you barely escaped geto earlier. your nerves still working you up.

“i didn't take you the type to ditch us, (y/n).”

you almost jump, making you stop in your tracks as you look up in front of you. hand in his pockets while waving the phone in his other hand. a grin in his face while stepping closer to you.

with every step he take, you took backwards. not wanting to face him or geto. you don't want anything from them. tentatively taking your steps backwards. you just could blend again with the crowd. your mind formulating a thousand escape plans. you only look at him in contempt. a last chance of bravery against him.

spinning your heel and you made a run for a life. you could taste the escape in your lips. away from him. away from the people who made your life hell.

flashes of light blinded you for a second before realizing you were stopped. the tight grip in your arm, the smell of cigarette clinging into his shirt. it almost made you gag.

“nice one, suguru. (n/n) thinks she can escape us.”

there was a stinging sensation behind your eyes. the hope you're once clinging ripping into shreds. falling once again to the madness this two seeks for the pleasure of their own entertainment.

geto pulls you closer to his. wrapping his arm in your shoulder. your back against his chest while his hand went to cup your jaw. raising your head to meet his smile. you sure could punch him if you have the guts but looking at his face, you couldn't deny that geto suguru is attractive. maybe it's the lightning or how his hair is elaborately tied in a bun where the other locks of his hair is loose underneath and the single strand of his hair falling down. acting like bangs in his face. the warm light of the sun illuminating his face like halo. it's almost— godly.

you felt stupid for admiring one of the people in your life who made it hell. it's a realization how small you felt, how powerless you are with this two and they remind you of it every single time of your life.

your lips is curled up in a frown and gojo take notice of it. the latter grinning and walking forward where his friend got you trapped.

grasping your chin in his slender fingers, blue eyes inspecting your face behind his dark glasses. leaning closer to brush his lips to yours and the immediate reaction earns a laugh of amusement to his. tucking back your lips and moving your head to the side. blinking back the tears and he'd be lying if he didn't like the tears on you.

you weren't special. you're nothing worthy of praise nor attention but you do give them a hell of a time. you didn't even look or close to the numerous bitches they had fucked. they were naturally submissive which they like and the worst is they got clingy which is incredibly annoying for them. skanky bitches like them think they can have a piece of them. thinking they're now hotshots for sleeping with them when they're just holes for them to fill and to leave.

you — you got a fight in you. they wouldn't tell you that aloud. they didn't need to shape a bitch for them. bitches are made for them and you, even a dozen times they break you, you're still standing up and perhaps they could keep you longer until you submit to them and throw you away like a trash. follow them like a lost puppy that is still coming back even kicked and worship them at their feet. they needed you to break.

your eyes betrayed you, no. it wasn't tears instead it was the impalpable glare you have given to someone and not just to someone. it was one of your bullies.

his shit eating grin turning into one of a coldest lines forming in his lips before turning into one of a condescending smile. an immediate silence taking over and geto didn't missed that despise being behind you. harshly yanking your arms he was holding and earning a whimper from you.

“ah, ah. what's that? acting brave now are we? who taught you that or perhaps we didn't teach you enough what happens to fat slut like you acting up? mmm?” he hums. closing his eyes as his lips crooks into a smile. his bangs covering one side of his eye and the other opens or both. you couldn't tell when his bangs is covering the other.

“suguru, don't be like that. we've been just too lenient at her and now — acting too brash. we don't want this for our pet suguru, do we?” gojo tuts. tapping his fingers to your cheek, eyes locking to geto. the eye contact generating the sickest of punishments they can sentence you to.

“please — i-i need to go....” your voice stumbling at the words and your false courage starting to crumble. you couldn't think how stupid you were for glaring at gojo. he deserves it and it's not enough. you thought. bitter memories starting to surface while you think of all the humiliations you had to endure by his hands and if you were getting punished which was already placed into you, you should have glared at his friend too.

gojo tuts.“nuh uh, where do you think you're going? this is what you get for avoiding us. you need to learn your place.” the snow white haired boy jeers at you.

suguru only smirks, grabbing your arm to drag you from wherever they wished to punish you. gojo following suit whilst humming a tone from a random song.

you ended up in a vacant classroom in where the area is currently renovated and staff and students alike are forbidden to enter minus the construction workers who were taking a lunch break. giving the duo the time to punish you in their own ways. you can feel the bile rising in your throat and the familiar sparks of tears stinging behind your eyelids. your heart quickening its beats from the nervousness and the shame you have to face on or it will never end. it never ends.

“strip.” the black haired male ordered you. seated in one of the chairs in the vacant room. his friend is also comfortably seated too. a huge smirk plastered on his face, resting his head in his palm while those blues in his eyes glints in anticipation.

“n-no.” you stammer out. your hands trembling. clenched in fists in your back.

geto fakes a frown. twirling his phone in his hand while he types the password in his phone.

“no? such a shame if the whole uni would see what kind of a slut you are. you look good in this one, pretty i might say. taking satoru's cock so well. hm?” tapping the phone in his fingers while showing you a clip of a video they had previously filmed from the past sessions. both had a copy in their own phones. they may never say it but it's a video they treasured whenever they misses you. “poor mommy and daddy. they will know how much of a slut a daughter they had raised.”

“you can't do that. you have no right.” there's a sound similar to a whisper in your voice. a cruel smirk etched in his face, looking at your helpless state. they know the power they hold. what would you do report? ask the others? too bad, they'll never believe you as long they're around. people worship them. what's the power of a peasant against them? nothing.

“he can, (y/n)-chan. just one tap away and the whole world will see you for who you really are. a slut who's desperate of attention. now, follow suguru's order or we'll post it.” satoru warns. playing with the arms of his dark glasses. the action making you see a peek of what's under them.

and just like that, like a puppet you obey them. your hands trembling along with your vision blurring from the tears that started to spill from your eyes. forced to follow what they ordered to you. you couldn't risk to be find out. knowing full well that you would just be shamed even it's not your fault. who would believe you after all? you were an unfortunate being that got thrown in a tiger's den. you think of your parents — who worked so hard for your education. if hardwork and determination would reward you along with their sacrifices. you will be the first one to graduate in your family. you just have to endure it. give in to their demands and maybe — just maybe. it will end faster and you could wallow in shame on your own.

retracting your arms and you unhooked your bag slinging in your back. placing it on the nearest table. there's a soft thud along with the taps of their shoes in the wooden floor. impatiently waiting for you to completely strip of your garments.

your head hung know as you hesitate to reach out for the lower buttons of your blouse. your fingers wobbles as the buttons enter the holes of your blouse. one by one. the buttons coming undone and you blinked back the tears again but no matter how many times you blinked the tears came running down your cheeks.

you couldn't run. not when the fate of your education and dignity are stored in their phones — or maybe. you'll let them and disappear forever — away from their hungry gazes and hands that turns filth whatever they touches.

a pair of blue and purple dances at your snivelling form. that look suits you better than being a stubborn bitch you are. all bark and no bite. who's the the loser now?

it's getting quite annoying how you slowly take your clothes off and the modesty of it. a red long sleeved blouse and underneath it a black tank top paired with a long black denim skirt that preserves and gives you the impression of being a modest and goody two shoes person. boring. they make sure to put in mind what clothes you are allowed to wear for immediate contact.

satoru sighs but it's closer to belching. growing impatient as he taps his shoes in the floor before standing up and walks towards you.

he holds the tops of your shirt before tearing it up. the last buttons flying away as they got ripped. you panicked and grasping his hands to stop it but he's stronger than you. easily pulling your arms away as he yank your shirt. the action resulting in your skin burning and welts starting to form where the cloth had touched your skin.

“no! no — please! i—i'll do anything you want but not this!” you cried, hands squirming to take it away from his tight grasp. “tsk. too late.” gojo taunts. turning his head to look at geto who was enjoying the view. “suguru~, lend a hand will you? little mousy-chan is real stubborn today” asking his friend nonchalantly.

geto shakes his head, cupping your jaw harshly that it started to hurt and leaves bruises to the skin. forcing you to raise your head to look at him. “this wouldn't happen if you were obedient. we could have shown you mercy and instead what did you do? running away from us like a squealing pig. accept your punishment.” his pupils darkening and you watch it through your glossy eyes.

“a bad, bad — bad girl, you are. who taught you this? ahh, maybe it's mommy or daddy. run away from the big bad wolf eh. it's that what they taught you. they're wrong. you're a swine who lures men at your undesirable self.” he continues to sneer at you.

you didn't know what's hurting at this point. your body or your soul. you didn't know. you couldn't even shield yourself from the spite of their hatred and disgust for you. if you were really this ugly and undesirable for them. why would they bother for it. you know it wouldn't be difficult for them to get their dick wet. girls swoon and was more than willing to give their body for them and if they want another to give the same treatment you receive, they can. a much more appealing person for their taste. a far cry from what you are.

he lets go of your jaw, the sound of your tank top being ripped from the back resonating in the room. geto grabs your head, your face pressing on his chest while he holds you to avoid interrupting his friend who was having the time of his life tearing your clothes off. your bra following suit. your denim skirt being tugged away and that made you cry even more, leaving you only in your panties.

gojo continues his torment at you. slapping and pinching the muffin top in your waistline. chuckling while his fingers digs marks into the skin. amused from the fat of your body jiggling and swaying with the assault it was taking.

his eyes twinkling in pure glee and it returns to normal meeting geto's gaze at him. looks are exchanged, a quiet agreement that they both fully understand what it meant coming for you.

geto places his hands into your shoulders before pushing it down, forcing you to kneel with no consideration for the bruises that will later bloom. gojo watches in pure amusement while his friend manipulates you into his will. this is what suguru is. his true colors in full display.

geto is not the person you want to be messed up with. striking in the place where you don't expect it. nothing can hinder suguru when getting what he desires and a shame for those fuckers who tried to help you. what they did get? blacklisted from the university with a anomaly he conjured up.

flickers of sunlight and dust mingles in the room. gojo shakes his head watching as his friend switched his charismatic demeanor into one of a sadistic. “suguru, don't get too hasty. i thought you were the cool one here.” he said nonchalantly, eyes hungry with desire and need from raking through your half naked figure. kicking your torn clothes strewn in the floor.

“i don't tolerate defiant bitches who can't follow rules and begs for mercy from their mistake.” his voice cool with hint of malice behind them. “i should put you in your place, (n/n). ” he smirks, relishing on how hope simply vanishes into your eyes.

“now don't be like that to me, (y/n). please me and maybe i'll change my mind.” his eyes narrows down at you while you're in the verge of tears. your lips are wobbling. faced with suguru's crotch and you regret looking in his eyes. a silent plea for him to change his mind. a condescending smile only and you received your answer.

you blink back the tears that were threatening to spill from your eyes while you reach for his belt loops. shaky hands unbuckled his belt and you were shook that you were fumbling and when geto took a breath, you quickly managed to unhook the loops and pulling the zipper of his pants down.

you never wanted to make it worse than it was when geto would show his impatience towards you and in your situation you can only obey.

he's huge. always was. the outline of his cock is pressed against his boxers. “i presume you won't be needing my help to get it out, princess.” his tone velvet smooth with a hint of impatience dripping in it. you accepted your fate when you tug his boxers down. his cock springing free and it slaps to his abdomen. “suck.” he orders you with no hesitation and you think you could cry at this moment and then you remembered how cruel the two are when disobeyed especially the male above.

you take a experimental lick in the tip of his cock before enveloping it with your tongue. you feel him shiver. a grunt can be heard next as you swallow half of his cock. bobbing your head in a slow motion while you stroke the other half of his cock.

suguru stare at the scene below him. his cute piggy taking his cock in your mouth. he places his hand behind your head. forcing you to look at him and it makes his cock throb more at your mouth. your round cheeks in display and your lips wrapped around his cock and that teary gaze of yours meeting his own. “take more of this cock, princess.” tapping your cheek and you obediently followed. he let out a curse as you take him deeper. closing his eyes for a brief moment and he returned to watch you take more of him. “you can only follow an order if you're being threatened. might do more of this—shit—haaah.” grunting as you fondle his balls.

satoru watch in pure amusement as you take his friend's cock. slobbering all over it as you suck him deeper and he's a little jealous. not used in his spotlight being taken by someone and suguru was no exception and your attention should be also on him. his blue eyes peering through his glasses. he watch as your round face struggled to swallow more of his friend's girthy cock. drool seeping from the corner of your mouth as you bob your head back and forth.

gojo shudders at the blood rushing in his cock. he began to palm his cock through his pants. groaning and the little puffs of breath he was taking. unable to contain his excitement he pulled out his cock. stroking his veiny cock in a slow torturous manner as his cum dribbles down from the tip of his cock.

“suguruuu~” geto winces at the call of his name. eyes half-glaring at his friend for interrupting the haze he was in of your mouth sucking him. “you're not the only one allowed to fuck (y/n)-chan's mouth. sooo let me have her mouth.” gojo smiles at him and suguru scowls for a moment before giving your mouth to suck satoru's cock.

gojo grins. “f-fuck... suck me more...” the white haired boy stutters. burrowing his dick deeper in your mouth making you gag but he didn't care. feels too good to notice that you're almost choking on his cock as tears appeared in the corner of your eyes. your other hand still occupied jerking suguru's length.

the duo loves nothing more than this. their cute, little toy being used by them. you spent the last minutes alternating between their cocks, both covered by your spit. you were currently sucking him off and suguru groans at his impending orgasm and satoru isn't doing good either but before their orgasm bursts. they made you stop.

“open wide baby.” gojo pants. both of them pumping their cocks in unison before shooting their load in your mouth. spurts of their cum dropping in your tongue and some landing in your face. “what do we say after giving you our cum?” his face remaining passive as he reminds you and if you answer it wrong, this will last longer.

“t-thank you.” you shyly mutters. voice low and sounding so obedient. that seems to satisfy suguru as he replied with a hum. holding your jaw between his thumb and index finger. swiping the sticky cum glazed in your face with his thumb, he smeared it in your face and without further adieu you swiped the cum in your lips with your tongue. the bitter taste of their cum coating your taste buds and it would linger for days to come.

“you could be such a good girl, you know that, sweets.” satoru commented. admiring your face covered in cum. “even you could be such a bitch sometimes and you choose today to act up and we know what happens when you break a rule, you get punished.” squishing your round cheeks before staring at you dead in the eye with his blue eyes glimmering more than ever. “and punishment starts now.”

breathing is not the same as it was anymore. you sat in suguru's lap uncomfortably. your ass stinging, covered with handprints as it starts to form welts. air became lacking as suguru continues to kiss you.

“mmm...” the small sounds is all you can manage while suguru shoves his tongue deep inside. it's been minutes and this punishment gets worst as the clock ticks.

suguru can be gentle as he is rough. the dried tears sticking in your cheeks are the evidence of it and your much demure attitude after a spanking does the trick of it so he's rewarding you of kissing you until you're breathless. your soft lips perfectly melding in his and suguru enjoys every minute of it. you taste of the sea and something sweet or it just could be him. licking your tears before this. it was humiliating to you while he savors every minute for it.

geto smirks in the kiss when he hears gojo speak. “she's so fucking wet, suguru.” gojo laughs. watching as slick flows in your dripping hole. your thighs are spreaded by him and preventing you to close your legs away from his gaze. “all that spanking got you, hah. i barely touched you.” mocking you as he laughs. your body tensed and geto noticing the change in your body chuckles. “getting shy, are we? let satoru do what he wants and maybe we're going to be gentle to you this time.” it wasn't much of a request but an order. you simply nodded. “good girl.” suguru mutters before dipping again for a another kiss. holding you closer to him while his hand in your back gripping the rolls on it and the other hand in your breast. his finger brushing to your stiff buds.

satoru let suguru have his fun and so is he. what's in front of him is going to tastier and he can't wait to dig. parting your thighs wider, satoru first bestowed a chaste kiss to your doughy thighs. making sure they are given equally the amount of being worshipped by him. he won't say it aloud but your thighs are his favorite. smooching the expanse of your thighs and sometimes resting his cheek to your thigh just to feel that softness over it. he will get both of them to squish his cheeks or crush his head. he doesn't care.

a smack sound can be heard as satoru took his first lick to your fat pussy. humming in delight for diving back in. his tongue lapping in your sweet heat and more obscene noises grew from his desperate feats of licking your slit with his tongue. alternating between sucking and flicking his tongue to get more of that goodness.

your plush body jerks involuntarily. all the places with the extra bits jiggling at the sudden intrusion of his tongue. moaning in the kiss where suguru had you locked. “mmm...hah—mmm...” is the only sound you can produce as suguru licks your tongue and going back again to take your lips in his. drool covering both of your mouths. eyes half-lidded and you're drunk in this haze and you take a peek of satoru in between your legs. his white hair moving so gracefully as he slurps loudly the juices spilling in your cunt. his large hands holding firmly your thighs. sinking in the softness of it as your thighs gets bigger at being squish. the flesh spilling in his thick fingers.

satoru let goes on your clit with a loud pop before you can cum. your whines muffled by suguru's lips on your own and satoru chuckles. wiping the juices covering his mouth. “i got on her pussy first, suguru.” satoru reminded him and the man in front of you smiles. “no need to remind me, satoru. i'll take her ass.” he nonchalantly commented and your widens. squirming in his lap to get off but suguru clutches your flabby arms in his hands. “don't be scared. it will feel good like your pussy does.” he convinces you but you don't want it. “who cares about that, it's part of the punishment.” suguru growls and that puts you in your place. accepting what they decided for you.

“hey, suguru. frightening our dear (y/n)-chan will get her holes tight. you might want to loosen her.” gojo commentated whilst rubbing your slit with his fingers.

geto tsk. visibly annoyed, a rare occurrence for gojo to see his friend like this. “satoru, punishment is punishment.” the purples in his eyes darkening and gojo shrugs. “whatever. i still get to fuck her fat pussy.” sticking out his tongue towards suguru.

it was painful to swallow the lump in your throat that never existed again and again. your hands are clammy while the duo began to position themselves to you. satoru slapping your ass before hooking his arms behind your knees and his hands holding the back of your thighs hoisting you up. wrapping your arms in his and the other in suguru.

the black haired beauty holds your ass. suguru spreading your ass cheeks and the tip of his cock prodding at your tight hole. “please, geto. not in there please. i—i'll do any—mmph” the sharp thrust of his cock interrupted your plea. making you cry at the burning sensation in your hole. clenching your fist in a tight manner. your eyes hot and warm tears came rolling down your cheeks from the pain like rivulets. “and what? you'll do anything. too late now, sweetheart.” suguru examines your face as it twist again in the thrust of satoru's cock in your cunt.

“fuck!” satoru curses out. chuckling at himself. “the only good thing in you is tight pussy of yours.” your velvety walls clenching around his cock. “are you crying?” satoru teases taking a mental note of your tears.

both of them adjusts their hold on you. beginning to move their hips in an upward motion to thrust their aching cock in your warm holes.

it burns. everything stings with every move. your muscles begging to rest as it tears from how they stretched your muscles and your limbs put in a uncomfortable manner. this is how your day supposed to go on. why you must be in this position. unwilling and unlucky to escape this kind of situation. you're always in trouble with this two and maybe if you weren't so fat for this two to mock and make fun of you wouldn't be here.

mistaking the tears in your eyes as being overstimulated which is true but you're troubled with the inner turmoil of yourself so you get lost and the two began to harshly pound their lengths deep inside you. groaning and throwing at curses.

satoru rests his forehead in your shoulder and behind his glasses, his eyes, the prettiest shade of blue seems to shine in astonishing sight of your pudgy belly. squished together and like dough being stacked together. jiggling at the impact of their thrusts in you and his sight lowers. his cock disappearing inside your pussy as it glistens and the wet squelch it was making, it was simply music to his ears. biting the junction of your neck. he stare at suguru who's smirking at the sensation of your tight hole gripping his cock. “she feels so good, suguru—ahh.. this pussy's trying to choke my cock.” satoru commented.

“you hear that, you feel so good.” suguru holds your jaw forcing you to look at him. “open your mouth, baby.” parting your lips at his order, suguru spits on your mouth. a glob of his spit hitting your tongue in which you didn't hesitate to swallow and suguru smiles. “good girl.” he praises.

hard muscles are a contrast to your soft body. sandwiched between their bodies while they keep their pace steady in bullying your holes with their cocks. a moan is ripped from your throat when satoru hits the spongy spot in your cunt. knowing what he had done, satoru grips your thighs firmly as he angles his cock inside. hitting that spot repeatedly until you can't stifle the sounds coming from you. involuntary moans come spilling from your mouth and gojo swells with pride that only him, well both of them. he and suguru could make you moan like that. how did he know? silly to ask that. they're the only ones who had fucked you since you started college and the first to take your virginity. they didn't even allow men to approach you.

suguru wanting you to make you feel good like satoru does have to speed up his thrusts usually than what he always do. it's not even a work up from him. his desire for your asshole to only know the shape of his cock and he's the only one who can fuck this ass of yours.

“'too much. too much.” you babbled. the pleasure and pain is getting overwhelming for you to take. instead in pitying you it earned a chuckle from the two. “since when did it became too much for you, huh? you're a slut. sluts don't go to tell that it's too much. all they can do is shut up and take it.” satoru taunts you.

gojo hisses when your cunt squeezes around him. the creamy white ring forming in the base of his cock as you came. “shit! she came suguru.” satoru said in amusement and even he's like that he's getting close too and so is suguru. they exchange looks briefly before putting their strength in reaching their end.

you can't speak. they've taken your ability to speak. you can only moan in silence as you feel another orgasm bubbling in your abdomen again. you're going to cum and it's going to be more intense than the last one. you feel them both. hot and throbbing. the veins in their cocks making ridges in your soft walls. taking and molding their very shape.

harsh thrusts are back to back being blown to you. the tips of their cocks hits deeply as they can before releasing their loads. both groaning as spurts after spurts of their cum are being loaded inside of you. never did you felt to be so full and warm until they've released their loads inside of you. hot and sticky.

it took a few more thrusts before the both of them had ridden their high. handsome as they are and wicked even after fucking their favorite plaything. removing your arms around their shoulder. you slowly descended on the floor. both of their cum escaping your holes. dripping and staining the cold hard floor where you sat. you ignore them and you know the drill after being fucked by them. it's time to leave and slowly, you began to gather your clothes. your blouse are useless. tattered and shredded and it won't cover you. you're lucky your denim skirt are still intact.

reaching out for your bag to get the spare clothing you packed for when it happens. you grabbed the wet wipes. patting where their release had stained you, mostly in your face. a stream of tears you didn't even notice falling from your eyes got you wondering why the floor below you is getting wet. the realization dawning into you and you can only cry silently. dressing yourself and trying to be more decent.

satoru and suguru busied themselves fixing their clothing. not leaving the sight of their toy cleaning their self. suguru crouches down to meet your position. “crying after what you've put yourself into.” he commented. “pathetic.” satoru mutters as he watch you beneath him. “try not to defy us again, okay? it would be much worst than this one.” there's a hint of softness in his voice and maybe you could convince yourself that he wasn't a jerk from the way he spoke but you know better. they had humiliated you until you hated yourself. degrading you like you were nothing a dirt and not a human being.

“i understand. i'm sorry.” you say. bowing your head in shame for being disobedient at them. for not following simple orders. “good.” his only response to you.

“can i please go now?”

suguru hums and with that, you slowly made your way outside. your bag tightly secured in your back with your ripped clothes, you left without saying a word again with tears streaming down your face.

when you disappeared from that door, the duo both left at the building. going on with their lives again as the golden boys of the university and you were left with nothing, not even a shred of your dignity.

satoru reviews the newly recorded of you being impaled by their cocks. feeling hard again from the way your pussy wrapped around him along with your soft body pressed against him. “the best, satoru.” suguru commented after seeing what his friend is watching in his phone. “send it to me.” whipping his phone in a second and quickly typing.

your phone buzzes. alerting you with a message. you were wiping your tears after you nearly trip. absentmindedly wandering in the campus and if it wasn't for you almost tumbling you wouldn't break out from your stupor. more tears rolled in your cheeks, dripping down in the screen of your phone after you've read the message.

suguru: see you later.

[wellofdean]

I read your post about Supernatural being queer somehow from season 1 and I have two questions.

1. Don't you think it straight-appropriates the word "queer" to say it just means "not normal"? That argument seems disingenuous to me, and a lot of us want representation, and to see that word applied to explicit depiction of queer sexuality, and it's a cheat that they don't. Queer studies did start as the study of queer sexualities and the experience of queer people.

2. Are you saying that the makers of Supernatural intended for it to be "flesh on queer bones"? Do you think they intentionally sat down to tell a queer story?

Those are good questions my anonymous friend. Thank you for asking. Here are my thoughts:

To answer your first question: no, I don't think it appropriates anything. Here's why: firstly, if we're talking about sexuality and gender, it's queer 101 that no one owes anyone a justification of their queerness, and not everyone who is queer is interested in labeling it or making it legible to you, and they have no obligation to do so, and not doing so doesn't make them any less queer. Furthermore, some people who are queer are not interested in sex, so what about them?

All of that together is why, for me, the entire queer project is much more deeply about non-compliance with hegemony, and specifically with hegemony around gender roles, sexuality and to put it under a big umbrella, patriarchy, than it is about who you fuck. Those things extend into so many other aspects of life that I think you can easily talk about "queering" a very wide range of topics, and possibly? ANY TOPIC.

You are responding to this post, I think, and in it, I made a choice to talk about family and hunting, and our heroes roles and characterizations in that, and did not talk about gender shenanigans or sexuality, because my point was that even before we get to anything to do with it, Sam and Dean are immersed in a queered world in a fundamental, structural way. That said, I assure you that if you go back into season 1 of Supernatural, you will find LOADS that could be said about gender and sexuality, too. As well as other things, and a particularly important area, as @ironworked pointed out in the tags, is blue collar/white collar class issues.

As I said, the depth of queerness in Supernatural is actually dizzying just in terms of the story's BONES to say nothing of how they flesh it out. Queerness is about deviation from the norm. It's about rebellion and disobedience against hegemonic systems for the sake of personal authenticity and love.

Think about Cas for a minute. Cas's whole story is that he rejects his role in a hegemonic heaven. He rebels for love, and that is pretty explicit as early as season 4 when he tells Dean "We're making it up as we go". Fellas, that is THE QUEEREST SHIT EVER even if he didn't do it for Dean, and like... HE DID IT FOR DEAN. Cas did not have to tell Dean he loved him for me to know it, and for Cas to be a deeply queered character. When he DID say it, I wasn't the least bit surprised he was in love with Dean, because seriously, we been knew. I was only surprised I got to have the immense pleasure of hearing him say it and looking at Dean's face while he took it in. Jesus. I will NEVER RECOVER.

This is my perspective on representation in Supernatural: It's excellent, and I relate to, and feel seen by it as a queer person. Nobody needs to get fucked on the maps table for me to do the math that this is a queer story. It is very, very, very thoroughgoingly canonically queer in so many ways, and not all of them are to do with sex. I think some fans will only allow it to be called queer if dudes make out in it. I am not one of those fans.

As to your second question, I think there is a wealth of evidence in the filmic oeuvre of Eric Kripke to suggest that as an artist and a writer, he is concerned or maybe even preoccupied with masculinity issues and issues around family, and around the way patriarchy fucks men up. So, yes. I think he knew what he was doing and he knew that queerness was part of the mix. For fucks sake, it's a family of men who hunt monsters. That is very fucking on the nose. Do I think he kicked off Supernatural in 2005 planning a 15 year operatic queer romance between Cas and Dean? No. I don't think anyone planned for it to go as long as it did, and it's a matter of record that some things were influenced by fan response, actors' chemistry, different writers and showrunners' preferences and etc. What I will say is that when they had a choice to "straighten shit out" or lean into the queerness, they fucking leaned in, nearly EVERY TIME. Like, it's pretty amazing how consistently they lean the fuck in.

I'll admit -- I wasn't watching it with those eyes the first time, and I didn't give it much real estate in my mind when I watched it as it aired from 2006 to the end, but the last three episodes reshaped it for me and made me angry, and also made me need to watch it all again, this time with an explicitly queer lens, and BOY HOWDY let me tell you this: the Supernatch rewatch journey is a wild and wonderful trip to Queertown. It is legit more difficult to argue that Dean is straight than it is to argue that he is queer. There is a full on CORNUCOPIA of story evidence to support that read and relatively little that convincingly counters it on the straight side, and that starts right at the beginning, when they bend pretty baby Dean over a police car in episode one, and he smirks insouciantly in his lip gloss. Do I think everyone involved knew how that looked? Sexy, submissive and a bit gay?

YES I DO.

[gyll-yee-haw]

Your age gap writings are so good! Can you write something where the reader is in her 20s in college and Jake protects her from hate from fans or maybe one of his friends is like 'She's way too young for you and she isnt famous or trying to be famous so why are you with her???' and Jake just shuts them down

Thank you so much, babyy <3

I've got a taste for men who are older, can't help it.... 😔

Warnings: age gap, misogyny (not from Jake obv), cockwarming, pool sex, size kink, oral (f), creampie, soft!dom Jake, daddy kink, so many pet names, a hint of innocence kink

Like 3.2k words

---

It was a hot summer day. You were outside by the pool, book open in front of you as the sun burned your skin. You were finally relaxing after an exhausting semester in college.

Poor Jake, though, couldn't join you. He had a lot of things to solve about upcoming projects... you weren't complaining, you were extremely proud. And why would you even complain? Most days he worked from home. He sat with his laptop at the kitchen table, which was separated from the pool area by a glass door, that allowed him to enjoy the view of you in a bikini, living your best life. Well, you earned it, college can be really rough.

More often than not, you would tease him. Like when he was taking an important call and your bikini top would accidentally fall off... or when you (also accidentally) made eye contact with him while enjoying your popsicle a little too much... and all that would lead to him delaying his work just a little bit.

But tomorrow would be different. A few people on his team would come over for a meeting. So you told him you would just hide in the bedroom until they were finished. He insisted that the meeting shouldn't stop you from enjoying your time however you liked, but you said you preferred it that way. Not only you wouldn't feel comfortable having foreigner eyes on you, but you also didn't want to embarrass Jake... you knew by the comments you've been reading the kind of things people called you. You didn't want to give anyone any evidence that you were irresponsible or bad for his career.

-

So, by the time everyone arrived the next day, you were comfortably snuggling on your pillows, searching for something to watch on tv. Or some background noise for you to nap to.

Meanwhile, Jake was downstairs, discussing important things with his crew.

The meeting itself didn't take too long. But as everyone was saying goodbye, one of his oldest friends, who worked on his image's management asked him if it was okay for him to stay a little longer, so they could speak privately. Jake didn't mind and didn't think much of it... after all, they knew each other for a very long time, and would often talk about non-work related things.

"Hey, man." Jake greeted him as soon as the last person walked out. "Sit down, want something to drink?"

"No, I'm okay, I won't take too long, actually." The man replied in a very serious tone. "There's just something that a few of us been talking about and... we really didn't want to bring it up during the meeting, because it's quite delicate."

Jake's face fell. He had been so happy these last days... and the meeting was so successful, he didn't expect to have any trouble soon.

"Actually..." The man continued, as there was no response from Jake. "No one really wanted to bring it up, but... I'm your friend, am I not? I knew I had to."

"What's going on?" Jake asked, trying to get him to go straight to point, instead of explaining himself over and over again.

"It's about Y/N." He said at once. "Listen, man... I know you, I know you're in love and you're happy, but..."

"Hey, don't start." Jake felt his blood boil as he brought your name up. "I know what people say about her. But they don't know her. And neither do you."

"Jake, man..." he shook his head, hands on his waist as he tried get into Jake's head. "Come on, we all know how much shit starts with you don't know her, she's different..."

"Well, and you know that people on the internet are just waiting for opportunity to misinterpret something... at least you should know, since it's your job." Jake shrugged. "I mean... how many times did we have to deal with this?"

"Jake, I'm not talking as someone worried about your career. I know that these comments will die when they find someone else to cancel." He explained. "I'm talking as someone who's worried about you. You know how these girls are... maybe she finds a richer guy before the comments die, you know."

"Get out of my house." Jake closed his eyes and counted to ten, trying to keep his voice low.

"Come on, man..."

"Get the fuck out." He repeated. "If you leave right now, you're just fired. If I have to ask again, I'll make a few phone calls just to make sure you won't be getting another job anytime soon."

"You know what?" The man raised both hands in the air and chuckled. "You do whatever you want, I'm just trying to warn you..."

The look on Jake's face made him walk through the door without saying anything else.

Jake's body felt heavy and he allowed it to fall on the sofa. His heart ached. How could anyone talk about his princess that way? People didn't know how sweet and caring and kind you were. People didn't know how happy you made him.

"Fuck it." He rolled his eyes.

He was stressed and decided to take the rest of the day off. Take the day off to enjoy your company. You relaxed him like nothing else and nobody knew shit about you.

The eager manner he opened the bedroom door made you jump.

"Sorry, baby." He spoke as he climbed up the bed, resting his head on your chest. He left out a frustrated sigh.

"Oh no, what happened?" Your arms automatically wrapped around him. He looked exhausted.

"Just had to fucking fire someone." He replied, feeling his skin crawl. It made him even more angry to remember that asshole's words now, while he was being comforted by you. "Sexist piece of shit."

"Why?" Your eyes widened. He told you it would be a simple meeting... you would never expect things to end this way.

"I don't really wanna talk about it right now." He knew that if he told you, it would ruin your day. It would hurt your feelings, you would get insecure and maybe even feel a little guilty, which you absolutely didn't deserve. "But you could make me feel better, pretty princess."

Your face visibly lit up at the possibility. And that sparkle on your eyes made Jake regret not punching that guy on the face.

"Why don't you put your bikini on, darling?" He suggested. "Wanna spend the rest of the day by the pool with you, how does that sound?"

"Really?" You smiled at him, warming up his heart. "Just you and me, no work?"

"No work." He promised, returning your smile. "Hurry up, angel. I'll be downstairs waiting for you."

You didn't waste any time. You ran to the bathroom to put on your cutest bikini. One Jake himself bought you. You loved it when looking pretty for him could solve his problems. You felt so powerful.

When you were ready, you wrapped a towel around your body and went downstairs. From the kitchen, you could see him inside the pool. His hair was wet and the way he was breathing indicated he had swam a few laps already. You bit your lip. The roles were reversed at that moment. Now you were the one who was appreciating how the sun hit his wet skin so beautifully. His breathtaking body. God, no man your age looked like that.

But his beauty wasn't all that caught your eye. He also looked so stressed. And he tried to hide it as soon as he noticed you approaching the pool.

You tossed your towel on a chair and sat on the edge of the pool, feeling the water cover the lower half of your legs. He swan closer to you and placed his hands on your knees, which you took as sign to spread your legs. As soon as you did, he stood between them and cupped your cheeks with both hands, placing a sweet kiss on your nose.

You shivered as drops of cold water rolled down his fingers through your neck.

"I love you." He said, out of nowhere. "You make me so fucking happy."

"I love you too." You smiled, placing your hands on top of his, still on your face.

His hands went to your waist and he caught how your body reacted, letting out a laugh.

"What? Water is so cold..." you felt relieved by seeing him laugh.

"It kinda is." He admitted, and you knew that look in his eyes. He had an idea. "Why don't you come here and keep me warm, huh?"

"Alright, but give me a minute." You took a deep breath.

"Take your time, baby, I'm yours all day today." He leaned down, spreading your legs a bit more so he could place little kisses on the inside of your thighs, dangerously close to what your bikinis barely covered. "In fact, I'm yours all the time. Everyday. Even when I'm not here, you're all I think about."

"Yeah?" You bit your lip, bringing your hand to the back of his head, grabbing his hair very gently.

"I do." He continued his trail of kisses as he wanted to make sure not an inch of your thighs wouldn't feel loved. "If I could have my mouth on you all day I would, princess. For the rest of my life..."

He grabbed your thighs, making you move foward a bit. Then he used two fingers to pull your bikini panties to the side before getting his tongue on you. He licked your folds up and down slowly, like he was trying to discover what you tasted like. Like he didn't have you for breakfast that very morning. And the way his tongue began to work afterwards, hungrily, in and out of your hole, indicated he liked it very much.

He used his other hand to finger you, one finger in and out slowly, until he felt he could accommodate two, and as your moans got louder, he began curling them inside of you, all while he licked and sucked on your clit with passion.

Your hips bucked against his face and you pulled his hair, trying not to fall inside the pool, since you were dangerously close to the edge.

"Jake!" you gasped loudly. "Gonna cum, gonna cum..."

His mouth was working too hard on your clit and no force in the universe could make him stop at that moment, so he wasn't really able to reply, but you took that as a sign that he really wanted you to. And you did. You screamed his name, pulling his hair hard enough to make him moan against your core. When you were finished, you had to push him away, cause he didn't want to stop.

"Please... it hurts, too sensitive..." you begged.

He separated his mouth from you, wearing an unbearably gorgeous grin. Then he removed his fingers, immediately sucking them clean.

"Taste so fucking good, baby, can't help it, want more..."

"Fuck, Jake, I..."

"It's okay, princess. Won't you join me?" He helped you fix your bikini as if nothing had happened.

"I will, turn around."

He immediately understood what you meant. He turned his back to you and you hopped on it like a koala, gasping as you felt the water involving your whole body, arms and legs wrapping tighter around Jake's body.

"Easy, baby, you'll get used to it." He chuckled, moving around the pool with you in his back.

He was right, soon enough you felt your body relax against his.

"See, I'm keeping you warm." You said, kissing his shoulder.

"Oh, sweet girl..." he laughed. "That's not what I meant."

Your eyes widened at the realization. "Oh... I'm sorry, I'm so stupid."

"You're not stupid. You're my sweet, innocent little girl, aren't you?" He comforted you.

"I guess..." you felt your face grow warmer.

You untangled yourself from him, feet touching the floor. He turned around to face you.

"You're so pretty." He murmured, touching your face softly.

"Wanted to look pretty for you." You smirked. "Make you forget all your worries."

"You did it." His hand wrapped softly around your neck. "You're such a good girl for it."

"Hmm..." you started feeling him through his swimming shorts. "You're so hard."

"Yes, pretty girl. You did this." He brought his lips to yours, brushing softly as you reached inside his shorts.

His hands went to your hips and he kissed you to distract you from the fact he was getting rid of your bikini panties, then threw them somewhere outside the pool, keeping an eye contact that was enough to make you clench around nothing. He pulled his shorts down just enough to free his cock.

"Ready, baby?" He asked sweetly and you nodded. "Don't move, okay? Stay very still and relax."

You wrapped your legs around him and he entered you slowly. When he was all the way in, he stopped everything, just held you tightly.

"Just wanna relax with my pretty girl today." He said, giving your forehead a kiss. "Cock buried deep inside her, where it belongs."

It was the way he spoke the dirtiest things in the sweetest tone that always drove you crazy. That made you wanna bounce on his cock like no tomorrow. That made you moan under your breath, but he always, always heard you.

"What's wrong, princess?" He mocked.

"You're so fucking hot..." you almost cried as you watched him lift your bikini top and pinch your nipples.

"So cockdrunk and I didn't even fuck you properly." He kept playing with your tits.

"Please..." you whined.

"Y/N, it hasn't been 5 minutes." He kissed your neck. "Be patient, I thought you were a good girl... I just need a break, can't you see that?"

"I'm sorry." You moaned. "But... but you can take a break, and maybe I could move, just me?"

"Come on, you can do better than that." He laughed at how incoherent you sounded. "I know you know how to beg, baby. Just say the words, you have to be more clear."

He pinched your nipples again as he saw you hesitate.

"Jake, fuck!" You moaned in pain, feeling your pussy squeeze him. "Let me sit on your cock, PLEASE. I will be good, I promise..."

"That's better." He removed himself from you, earning protests. "Calm down, baby, I'm gonna do what you asked, unless you wanna be a brat..."

You bit your lip, to keep quiet.

He fixed his shorts and got out of the pool, signaling with his hand for you to follow him, and you did, like an obedient puppy obsessed with it's owner.

He sat on a chair, beside the pool, legs spread, waiting for you. You had to take a moment to appreciate his body again. His hairy chest, with a matching beard. He was so big... his thighs, his posture so masculine. The way he looked so intimidating, but was the softest when it came to you... he was perfect.

Soon enough you were standing between his legs. He kept eye contact with you as he got rid of your bikini top, directing his mouth to your tits as he grabbed your ass with both hands, hard enough to leave a mark.

"You're so fucking gorgeous." His voice was filled with lust as he spoke. "Gonna be a good girl and sit on my cock now?"

"Yes, fucking love your cock..." you agreed, feeling dumb as you saw it throb when he pulled it out of his pants.

"You're such a dirty girl, saying things like that... I mean, I know you love my cock, but jesus..." he mocked you with a smirk, helping your straddle him.

"Don't like it when I talk dirty, daddy?" You asked innocently.

"Fucking love it, baby, can't you see my cock throbbing? Come on, angel, make daddy cum like you promised, be good to me..."

He didn't even finish his words before you managed to get it inside of you, moaning at how good he stretched you.

You started moving up and down at a nice pace, knowing both of you were just too horny for games. Knowing that you only had the illusion of being on control because you were on top... but he could make you regret the smallest teasing.

"Fuck..." he moaned both at your movements and the sight of your tits boucing.

One of his hands cupped one of your breasts as the other one went to your hip, a sign that he wanted it harder. And you gave it to him harder.

"You're so good to me, such a pretty baby... you're gonna make me cum."

"Need you to!" You already looked and sounded like a mess, boucing on his cock as fast as you could, feeling your pussy start to squeeze him. "Need to you to cum inside, daddy..."

"Of course, baby, you deserve it, yeah?" Both his hands were now on your hips, handling you like a doll. "All of daddy's cum belongs to this pretty pussy..."

You cried out as you came again. So much harder. And he just kept thrusting hard, his thighs hitting your ass made a sound so loud you could barely hear him.

And then he came too, as deep as he could. He rested on the chair, breathing heavily and you collapsed on his chest. A few minutes of the most absolutely perfect peace he felt in days filled the air, and he breathed it in.

Not even your whines and protests when he pulled out could interrupt it, he just chuckled.

"Shhh it's okay, little one." He said sweetly. "Just wanna take care of my princess."

You accepted, feeling safe as he wrapped a towel around your body and stood up with you still in his arms. He carried you bridal style to the bedroom.

"Waaait! No!" You laughed as he tried to put you down on the bed. "We're still wet!"

"That doesn't matter, we'll change the sheets afterwards, come on..." he rolled his eyes. "Just wanna look at you for a second."

"You've been looking at me a lot these days..." you mocked him. "Watching me through that glass door, I see you pretending to work..."

"It's just hard to believe you're mine." He admited, intertwining his fingers with yours. "I'm afraid you'll disappear if I look away."

"That's right, I'm yours... and I'm not going anywhere." You promised, placing a soft kiss on his lips. "I love you, Jake."

You had no idea how much he needed to hear that. Of course he knew it, but having moments like this, so intimate, even more than the sex they just had, gave him strength to face all the bullshit people said about you and him. Cause in the end, this is what he was coming home to. He felt safe.

"I love you so much, my princess."

[wildrangers]

"Slut!" // William Nylander

Word Count: 2.8K

Summary: Famous singer reader x our boy Willy

{For my 1989 Vaults Track Challenge}

Warnings/tropes: fluff, resolved angst (very minor), mentions of anxiety, strong allusions to sex but no serious smut (like PG-13-ish), cursing

You were used to attention but even you had a limit. You’d hit it a few months ago after the tabloids latched onto you being seen with a mystery man, aka Marc from your agent’s office. When your team published that to dispel the rumors, the media reframed it as you sleeping with him for favoritism within your agency. While they hadn’t actually been yelling “Slut!” at you, they may as well have been and you’d needed to get away from New York.

You’d escaped to Toronto because you enjoyed the city whenever your tour had passed through and decided it was busy enough to get lost in without attracting the press. You were hunkered down working on your next album, doing your best to lose yourself in the rhythm of the city and get back to what you loved most—your music.

Got lovestruck, went straight to my head

Got lovesick, all over my bed

Love to think you’ll never forget

Handprints in wet cement

You’d been walking your dog, Edith, when the air changed around you—you couldn’t quite explain it, but you could feel a group of people getting excited about something and it set you on edge—had you been spotted? You froze, eyes darting around as your breath fogged in front of you.

You spotted a group of maybe a half dozen girls giggling as they walked away from a tall, blonde man with two dogs. As you let out a deep sigh of relief, Edith spotted the other dogs and yanked the leash out of your grip, charging for them and their owner.

“Edith!” you called, heart in your throat, as you jogged after her. Luckily, you were in a quieter part of the city but you were still panicked until you saw the guy grab her leash.

“I am so, so sorry, thank you so much” you called out once you were in speaking distance of him.

“It’s no problem” he replied, smiling easily at you. “I was relieved when a dog was running over—when I heard someone yelling ‘Edith!’ I worried a grandma was really in trouble.”

You chuckled and shrugged, “I mean, she’s just an Edith, you know?” Normally, at this point, you’d disengage to avoid being recognized but his face was so open and you hadn’t realized until now how lonely you’d been holed up writing. “Who are these gentlemen?”

William introduced himself, as well as Banksy and Pablo. You discovered your buildings were near each other so when he offered to join you on your return there, you took him up on it despite your reservations.

“So, what do you do for work?” William asked after a natural lull in conversation and your pulse picked up.

“Oh, I work in the music industry, what about you?”

You felt him reassessing you and his cheeks suddenly flared pink, “I’m sorry, I thought you looked familiar but it didn’t click until just now.”

“Please, don’t be sorry” you laughed, your own embarrassment rising to meet his. “It was nice talking with someone as a human being.”

“Yeah, I get that” he sighed.

“Oh?” you asked, wracking your brain for how he could possibly relate to such a strange feeling.

“I play for the Maple Leafs” he explained and you nodded, pretending to know what that meant. He must have caught on because he let out a rich laugh that made you smile from the sound alone. “The NHL team here, this is kind of a hockey town.”

“Well, that explains the girls back there…” you mused, reflecting back on the frenetic energy that comes with a person meeting someone they only know through a TV.

“They were sweet” he shrugged and you glanced over, noticing his legitimate nonchalance.

“It doesn’t bother you?”

“Not really, it comes with the territory and 95% of the time people are nice.”

“Well, that’s good” you mumbled, mostly to yourself. While your fans were lovely, your mind flashed to all the times you’d been met with judgement and jealousy from girls who were into your famous exes. It was a bizarre, shame-inducing experience despite you doing nothing wrong.

“Hey look!” Will said excitedly, pulling you from your thoughts. “Come here, quick.”

You followed him in confusion towards a small section of sidewalk that had been replaced and was surrounded by caution tape. “What exactly are we doing?”

“Come on, we gotta do our hand prints, no?” he grinned and his genuine excitement made you smile too.

“Fine, but quickly” you agreed and he whooped before taking his left hand out of his glove, you doing the same with your right hand. You two quickly stuck your hands in, the wet concrete cold to the touch.

“My plan worked” he smiled and you tilted your head in confusion. “Now you have to come over, make sure we can wash that concrete off your hands. Can’t play guitar with chunks of that stuck to you.”

Lovelorn and nobody knows

Love thorns all over this rose

I’ll pay the price you won’t

You must have dozed off watching the Leafs game because you were woken by Will softly greeting the dogs. You stretched, letting the throw blanket fall around your waist as you yawned.

“I’m sorry, babe, did I wake you?” he asked quietly, placing a kiss to your forehead.

You hummed in response, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck to pull his lips to yours. His kiss was gentle and attentive—he always seemed to anticipate just what would make your heart flutter in your chest. He pulled away a moment later, his blue eyes shining with joy that warmed you from within.

It had only been a few months since you’d met and, if you were being honest, you were a little terrified by how quickly you were falling for him. Contrary to what the tabloids said, you normally guarded your heart quite closely. But with Will, it was beginning to feel like all you needed was him.

“Where’d you go?” he asked and you realized he’d sat down beside you, concern all over his face.

“I’m sorry, just got lost in my thoughts.”

“What were they saying?”

You hesitated, trying to decide how to phrase it, “It just worries me how much you mean to me already.”

“Oh, älskling” he replied, pulling you to him. Your arms wrapped around his middle and you buried your face in his neck, breathing in his scent. “What concerns you about that?”

“I’m scared of people finding out” you admitted softly.  

“Because of the media being assholes?” You nodded, pulling him tighter. “Y/N, people say shit about me all the time. It’s just what happens when you’re in the public eye.”

You sighed, pulling away slightly to look at him. He didn’t get it—how different it was being a famous woman versus a man. “What would the story be about you if it came out that we’re dating?” you questioned and he grinned.

“Just that I’m lucky to have somehow landed a woman that is way out of my league” he replied and you rolled your eyes, butterflies filling your stomach at the compliment.

“What do you think it would be about me?”

He took in your serious expression and paused to think before shrugging, “Tell me.”

“Y/N, dating William Nylander!” you proclaimed dramatically. “Another new man for the songstress! Will she ever settle down? How many famous men will she use for attention? What will her ex think? When can we expect the break up album?”

You’d tried being light-hearted but your voice cracked on the last word as tears pricked your eyes. “Hey, hey” he said quietly, embracing you again and running a soothing hand through your hair. “They can say whatever they want. Only we know what this is—how real it is. They can’t take that from us. But, if we keep hiding, think of all the things that fear is taking from us. You coming to a game, me being able to go to a show of yours someday. Me being able to take you out to celebrate a win or on a nice date.”

Tears flowed freely at his words, “I didn’t mean to hide us, I’m just scared.”

“I know” he replied, wiping away your tears. “And I’ve loved getting to know you and developing this relationship, just us two. But that’s not how relationships work—I want you to meet the team and me to meet your friends, see your home in New York.  I mean, if you’d want that” he said, faltering at the end.

You grabbed his face in your hands, placing a gentle kiss to his nose. “Of course, that’s what I want” you reassured him, getting lost in his deep blue eyes. And as he leaned in to kiss you again, you accepted that you’d likely get backlash in a way he wouldn’t. But you wouldn’t let that stop you from being with him fully.

But if I’m all dressed up

They might as well be looking at us

And if they call me a slut

You know it might be worth it for once

You were nervous as you left Scotiabank Arena with Steph and a few other girls. You’d felt safe up in the suite, watching the game with the other partners and families but away from prying eyes. Now, on the street surrounded by fans, you felt your anxiety rising. You could feel people watching your group, noting the WAG jackets—you couldn’t tell if they’d realized who you were or were just intrigued because of your relationship with a player.

As you saw Will’s car pull up to the curb, you confirmed with Steph which bar you’d all meet up at to celebrate the win before sliding into his passenger seat.

“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Will asked, eyes scanning your face.

“Yeah, I’m sure” you nodded, despite the nerves filling your stomach. His strong hand gripped yours as he pulled out, heading a few blocks away to the bar. You’d gone to a few closed team events to meet everyone—parties at people’s apartments, joining the girls for at-home brunch, etc. All to help you feel comfortable enough for this milestone.

“You look beautiful, Leafs blue suits you” Willy complimented as he pulled into a spot and you squeezed his hand in thanks. He quickly came around to your side, opening your door and helping you out as he always did, ever the gentleman—it was one of the things you loved about him. You paused for a second at that thought before deciding you had enough to worry about tonight without bringing the L word into it.

You were escorted to a private room where you enjoyed a few hours of joyful company, dancing and drinking, celebrating the guys and their hard work. You’d almost convinced yourself you’d overthought this outing—everything was going great, why had you been so worried? But by the time you were leaving, cheeks flushed from the warmth of the bar and the alcohol flowing through you, your fears were confirmed as cameras began flashing.

Will wrapped a protective arm around you as your name was shouted from all around, Steph tucking herself closer to your other side, bracketing you in their safety.

Send the code, he’s waiting there

The sticks and stones they throw froze mid-air

Everyone wants him

That was my crime

It was the following afternoon and you were spiraling. All those moments you thought were private were plastered across the internet. You and Steph cheering after a goal, you picking up John’s daughter so she could see the ice better, you shielding your eyes when Will had taken a hard check. Let alone all the photos they’d gotten outside the arena and of you walking into and out of the bar.

Even worse, a fan had gotten past your building’s security, knocking on your door shortly after lunch. Luckily, she’d been sweet but it still rattled you. Your building’s manager had apologized profusely, quickly changing all the codes into the building and retraining the staff on privacy procedures.

Will was at practice and wouldn’t be over until later that afternoon, leaving you to your own devices. You’d successfully fought off Googling your own name for hours before finally caving.

Y/N spotted with William Nylander—but is she still with Marc?

Y/N has gone through all of Hollywood’s men—she’s moved onto Toronto now!

When can we expect the Nylander album?

That last one had been the worst—as if your music was owed solely to the men you decided to be with, not something you worked tirelessly on. Your phone vibrated beside you and your shoulders sagged in relief as Will’s name popped up.

“Hey babe, are you almost here?”

“I’m outside, can you send me the new code? It’s a zoo out here.”

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I totally spaced, it’s 161152. I’ll call George to let him know you can come up.”

A few moments later, you were pulling Will into your apartment and locking the door behind him. You began to explain everything that had happened today but instead simply burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry, älskling—I believed you but I didn’t realize how crazy it would be. But we’re going to figure this out, okay?” And you let yourself believe him as he rubbed soothing circles on your back, his presence filling you with a sense of safety. “And I’m going to be taking your laptop away from you” he added, spotting what you’d been searching.

You chuckled through your tears, pulling away to grab a tissue from nearby, “I knew I shouldn’t but couldn’t stop myself” you admitted and he nodded. “I’m sorry about all of this.”

“Hey, no” he countered, gently gripping your face between his hands. “We knew this could happen.”

“I know but why would you want to put up with all of this?” you asked, emotion clogging your throat again.

“Because I’ll take anything and everything that comes with being with you” he answered, eyes serious as they held yours. You didn’t know what to say to that so you just wrapped your arms around his middle again. “Want to take a nap? I could use one after the last twelve hours.”

Half asleep

Taking your time

You’re not saying you’re in love with me

But you’re going to

A few hours later you were woken by kisses placed all over your face and gentle hands caressing your waist. “There she is” Willy mumbled into your ear and you giggled, turning your face so you could capture his lips with your own. His exploring hands made quick work of both your clothes and soon he was a comforting weight on top of you.

You’d obviously had sex with Will countless times by this point but this felt different somehow. You both normally favored faster, rougher sex but Will was moving so purposefully and slowly, seemingly drawing out the time you two were joined together, impossibly close.

Later, as you came down from your high and felt his rhythm falter, you opened your eyes to meet his and the look there stole your breath away. Such affection and care were in his deep blue eyes before he dropped his head to your chest, burying his face in your neck as he caught his breath.

“That was incredible, Y/N” he said softly and you pulled his face up to yours, pouring all your unsaid feelings into the kiss.

Half awake

Taking your chance

It’s a big mistake

I said it might blow up in your pretty face

A few nights later, you were curled up in Will’s bed, wrapped in his embrace. The dogs were fast asleep around you but you were clinging to wakefulness, enjoying the warmth of Will behind you after a long day in the studio.  

“Y/N?” Will said softly and you hummed in response, turning in his arms to face him.

You smiled up at him sleepily but felt yourself wake up a bit more at the intensity in his eyes. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” he began, swallowing thickly. You frowned slightly at his nerves, reaching up to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes. “I just love you, that’s all.”

You fought back a smile, “Oh is that all?”

“Shut up” he giggled, hiding his face in your neck, pulling you even closer to him somehow.

You ran a hand through his hair, placing a kiss to the top of his head. “I love you too, William.”

“Yeah?” he questioned, pulling back just enough to gaze up at you.

You nodded before smirking, “You may come to regret it but yeah, I love you.”

He placed a gentle kiss to your collarbone before settling into your chest again, “I could never regret this, my love.”

A/N: My first Willy story! Thanks to those who sent support for this little series I'm working on to hopefully get out of this writing slump. I wrote this in a few hours so please let me know any feedback you have ☺️ 'Say Don't Go' with Lindgren next!

[abrcmswrld]

Talk to Strangers

Edward Nashton x Coworker! Reader

━━━━

Word Count: 4,951

Warnings: smut (18+ only MDNI), stalking, unprotected sex, angst and fluff and smut, a decent bit of tears, obligatory mentions of murder

Summary: You’ve warmed up to Edward despite his cold nature, but what happens when the puzzle pieces start to fall together and you can feel someone watching you in the darkness?

Authors Note: I actually tried so hard on this yall, I posted this to my ao3 page first so I am sorry if the formatting is all kinds of messed up on here :( This is my first fic i’ve posted since 2017 so I sincerely apologize if it’s meh, i also don’t have anyone else proofread my fics so i apologize for any errors i missed! enjoy!

Ao3 Link

He's arrogant. Oh so arrogant, and you can't fucking stand it. You watch him every morning as he strides in, past your desk at reception, white button up shirt, clear framed glasses, shaggy hair that falls over his forehead . He's certainly not a hit among the office, so maybe you're not wrong in your feelings. Though your other co-workers generally regard him as a pushover- not a self-absorbed asshole. He's good at what he does, sure. He's earned his spot, but he often brings a shadow into the rooms he walks into. A presence that you can only describe as infernal.

You don’t know much about his story. You generally pride yourself on getting to know the people you surround yourself with, but he has never let you get close enough to find out. Maybe that’s why you find him arrogant. He thinks he’s too good to speak to you for more than two sentences related to files he needs you to fax for him. What you do know about him is that he’s been at KTMJ for longer than you have been- maybe 5 years more. You can still remember the first time you met. You were fresh faced and eager. Seeking validation, in desperate need of some stability.

You extend your arm for a handshake. His hands are slightly clammy as he accepts your handshake. And though you had greeted him with your brightest smile (might as well go all in if you ever wanted to be anything other than a receptionist) he hadn't smiled back. He'd kept a rather straight face as he gave his brief introduction. "Edward."

Now you have a sense of stability. Sure, the quality of life in Gotham is subpar and you still haven't received that promotion, but you make enough to live comfortably in comparison to others in the city. You try to count your blessings.

━━━━

You had already been having a shitty day. Your landlord had informed you of an increase in rent rates by slipping an envelope under your door. Sure, it sucked to be asked to pay more for an apartment that could be deemed shitty by any normal person with a pair of eyes, but it was the lack of communication that got you. Not even the decency to call your residence and tell you with their own voice. Just a slip of paper under the door.

But you tried to bring a good attitude to the office. You hate being the one to damper the mood. You would rather leave that to him. Always him. Never smiling back at you as he walks through the door, never meeting your eyes to acknowledge your presence, nothing. And you were used to that. It would be okay, if it weren't for the stack of papers that laid on your desk when you got in. Neatly stacked with a green sticky note reading "Need copies. -Edward" scrawled in messy handwriting. You immediately feel the flames rise into your chest.

It's a quick stride from your desk to his cubicle, stack of papers tightly tucked into your fist. You slam them onto his desk as soon as you reach it, and he raises an eyebrow at you in response. "What the hell is this?" He glances at the papers and back at you. "The copier isn't working. I wrote what I needed." You sigh, annoyed at the fact that he doesn't understand.

"You couldn't have waited for me to get here and brought them to me yourself? I would really appreciate it if you would treat me like a human being every once in a while, ya know, actually acknowledge my existence." You realize how dramatic you must sound, but in all honesty you've been thinking it for years, it was only a matter of time before it came out. "I needed copies. I didn't think my acknowledgement meant that much to you." He holds his hands out in defense, feigning that he actually cared if he had hurt your feelings.

"I think you think you're smarter than everyone else here." You plant a hand on the table in front of him as you crouch to his level.

He sighs and you can see the corners of his mouth twitch. "I do. Is that so bad?"

"It makes you an asshole."

He finally faces you.

"Better to be an asshole than to be an idiot."

His voice doesn't carry any malice, yet the words feel like a slap in the face to you. It leaves you scrambling for a response, opening your mouth only to close it a second later. Until you decide to merely respond with a nervous chuckle. Sure, you thought his response showed his ego, but you had to admit. He got you. He faces you once more at the sound of your light chuckle, green eyes meeting yours completely. "I guess you're right."

You catch the corners of his mouth turning upwards.

"If it means that much to you, I will greet you next time."

━━━━

And he does. Greet you that is. You find yourself talking to him more and more. Sitting in the break room with him at lunch, looking over his shoulder at the crossword puzzle he works on at his desk and giving your best shot at an answer, relishing in the furrow of his brows as he turns to look over his shoulder at you. He's an asshole. He's arrogant. But there's something about him that's drawing you in. Sometimes you feel like a fish caught in a net. All those moments he'd brushed you off and yet you find yourself repeating the little quirks of his soft smiles in your head. You hate the term "work husband", but it seems that Edward is slowly becoming the very definition of that.

You don't speak outside of the office, but you find yourself gravitating towards him when you're stressed. You tell him about your landlord and the reason you had gotten so defensive with him. He understood.

"It's a cesspool here. None of these people actually care about people like us, not the landlords, not our coworkers, certainly not the politicians." He had said in that moment.

As October rolls around and the leaves begin to fall, you find yourself beginning to bring two coffees to work, one for you, one for him. He always shows an appreciative nod. But the moment you start to think about asking him to actually go out with you for coffee is like being the fish pulled out of the water and accepting it's inevitable fate. You were gonna let him drive you insane.

You're sure of it as you are caught up in the nerves and find yourself softly grabbing his hand to stop him outside the front doors of the office. You quickly pull your hand from his. no doubt blushed a deep red. But he just stares, waiting for you to speak. You clear your throat. "I- um- Sorry, I was just gonna see if you had plans now." And it pains you the way he doesn't speak, just continues to stare.

"There's a diner on the corner near here. I think they have decent pie."

He loosens the tension in his shoulders and looks down. "Oh. I'm actually sort of drowning in... paperwork right now." He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable. God, you hoped you hadn't made him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry."

You quickly shake your head and let out a breathy laugh. "Oh no! It's totally fine, I probably have paperwork to finish too." You hope it hides the pang you feel in your chest. "I'll see you tomorrow." You swiftly turn and walk away before he can respond.

━━━━

But you wouldn't see Edward tomorrow. Matter of fact you wouldn't see him for the next three days after Halloween. You try not to let it bother you.

It's the beginning of a cold November, he's probably just sick or desperately needed a vacation. Or perhaps you'd seriously fucked it all up and he couldn't even stand the sight of you. You can't stop the deep sigh that comes from you as you rest your forehead in the palm of your hand. Embarrassingly, you ask Zach if he's heard from Edward. Not that you expected him to be particularly helpful. "Are you guys, like, fucking?" You are stunned and stammering your words. "Wha- No! No. I just worry about him."

"Look, I wouldn't worry about him too much, I mean the guy's basically a fucking recluse. When do you ever see him outside of here? Maybe it's good that he's somewhere besides here."

Still, there's no chance of you actually focusing on work and you find yourself aimlessly scrolling through news headlines, before one in particular catches your eye.

'Mayoral Incumbent Donald Mitchell, Jr. Murdered in his Home on Halloween Night.'

Holy shit.

━━━━

Edward is back at work after three long days, and despite your worry of his annoyance and anger, he is oddly elated.

It's the first time he approaches your desk. Leaning against it, coffee cup in hand, and flashing an awkward smile before asking, "So did I miss anything?" It leaves you a little taken aback, but it's a relief to see him approach you willingly after your last conversation.

"Um yeah, Zach was a total prick as usual- Oh! And our mayor was murdered."

He raises an eyebrow and takes a sip from the coffee cup. You feign annoyance, "No but seriously where were you? I started to wonder if that psychopath got you too."

He smiles. "Just sick. November weather and all."

━━━━

The first time you see the green mask you are in a huddle of coworkers around a computer screen.

'Police Commissioner, Pete Savage, Murdered. Killer Leaves Shocking Confession.'

"My God. What a sick freak." Zach interjects.

You can barely stand to watch. The video is hardly graphic aside from the disturbing voice of the masked man, but the implications of what happens when the video cuts off leaves your stomach turning. You walk away. Desperate for some space, but also desperate for a distraction. Edward sits straight in his office chair across the room. You hesitate slightly before striding toward his desk and leaning your weight against it. You can feel the sweat beading at your forehead as you lightly brush hair from your eyes. "Shit."

It's merely a whisper to yourself, but he turns his head to face you. For once his face shows concern towards you. Yet he still says nothing, only looks. Observant as always.

"Sorry. I needed to get out of that." You gesture towards the group of coworkers still huddled and murmuring among each other. He glanced back, before turning back towards his work. "The news?" He inquires quietly.

"Yeah. It's a little too much for me to stomach." There's a little pause as if he is hesitant to say anything before finally replying, "They were pricks. Don't you think they kind of deserved it?"

You straighten up, looking at him with shock. "I think they were still people with families." He frowns at you before you finally walk away from his desk to make your way to the restroom. You needed to get a grip.

━━━━

Edward apologizes for his insensitivity after work. You had stayed with him outside of the building long after all of your other coworkers had left. "It's fine." You refuse to look at him as he lights a cigarette and gets in a few quick puffs. You're being mean. But if you're honest the combination of his rejection and his comment earlier in the day had set you off. "And I'm sorry for last week." Only then you look up at him.

"I've had a lot going on, and it feels a little unfair to bring you into all of that."

"This feels like an excuse to let me down easy. It's okay if you just don't want to go on a date-"

The feeling of chapped lips on your own stops you mid sentence. He tastes of coffee and cigarettes and you crave more, but he pulls back quickly. His free hand remains at your cheek, holding your face in a gentle caress. "It's not an excuse. Things are just complicated for me right now." His eyes never leave your face. It's the best look you've gotten of them. Of him. His features are gentle behind shaggy hair and acetate glasses.

Something feels wrong and eerie in the back of your mind. Like seeing him this close gave you a sickening feeling of deja vu. Things were definitely complicated. The bags under his eyes were showing his exhaustion well, he had gone from elated to unwell since his return. He seems like a broken man, but he'd never let you close enough to find out why. You can't help but feel the connection, like he deserved a shot even if he didn't want it. Even if he thought he was smarter. Even if there's a side to him that could hurt you. You push down your feelings of uneasiness.

You press a chaste kiss to the corner of his lips.

"When you're ready."

━━━━

You're awake nearly all night the next weekend. Spending the entire time digging through news about the figure known as The Riddler, his possible next targets, possible identities, and most importantly all of the video footage he'd put out in the last few weeks. It's certainly not healthy. You generally steer clear of these sorts of things. Years of therapy had gotten you far and you would rather not ruin it by desensitizing yourself. But you can't help it. You find yourself going deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole until you find yourself tuning into his streams late at night.

He speaks with such a confidence in himself. As if he has all of the answers, and is just waiting to enlighten the world. His followers are even more terrifying. They'd do anything for him. You wonder how low a person must be in life to resort to this sort of behavior. But, you're not a psychiatrist. Who are you to speak on these people. These strangers.

"We are going to cleanse this cesspool of city."

You slam the laptop shut.

Sleeping isn't easy after this sort of activity. You should've known. You turn on a show you don't actually care about to give yourself some sense of security in background noise. And soon you find yourself drifting asleep. It's not great sleep. You can sense yourself tossing and turning, but you can deal with it. Everything is fuzzy until you find yourself on your back.

Paralyzed.

It's not uncommon for you to experience sleep paralysis, but you've experienced it less after your time in therapy. You try to keep your breathing steady, trying to convince yourself that whatever you see is merely a hallucination.

Shh. Shh. Just breathe.

But the figure that appears is familiar. That's what scares you the most. The green coat and mask is horrifying as it inches towards the bed, and you can't scream. you can't move away. You can only watch the blood drip from his gloved fingertips onto your floor as he stares. Tilting his head at you slightly, as he brings a hand up to his head. You can hear your heart pounding and you are practically internally begging yourself to wake up. The latches on his mask pop open and you're horrified to find that the face underneath is so familiar. A slight smirk on lips you have kissed before. Blood dripping from a hand that you've held before. You try to scream. Tears falling down your temples until he is suddenly gone and you shoot up in your bed.

You can't hold back the cry that escapes your throat. It wasn't real, he's gone, and you're safe in your room.

━━━━

Until suddenly the safety of your room begins to feel a lot less safe. You hear it. The creaking of the floorboards at night, the slight tapping against the glass of your bedroom window. The slight squeak of leather rubbing and rustling together. You're too scared to open your eyes those first few nights. You'd rather be blind and take your fate than die in paralyzing fear.

But you know it's him.

It was never unclear what was staring at you in the night. Maybe the nightmares of the leather gloves touching your skin hadn't been nightmares at all. You want so badly to be sickened. To run into your bathroom to empty your stomach out of panic and fear. Instead you feel a strange mixture of annoyance and arousal in your gut.

He thinks he's smarter than you.

You find yourself playing into his games.Attempting to one up him. To show him you aren't scared of him. That you can keep up. You begin to deliberately change in front of your window. Letting lacy fabric hit the cold floor and standing just a tad longer, stalling before covering yourself back up.

You hope he's watching when you peel off your work tights. You hope he's imagining himself on his knees tearing the delicate fabric from your form, only to be blocked by a thin pane of glass. You wanted the upper hand.

You hope he's watching as you sink two fingers into yourself, thinking about crisp, white button ups and clear framed glasses.

━━━━

The next few weeks are tense at work. You heard the news of what happened to Gil Colson at Don Mitchell's funeral. Edward would walk in everyday, and attempt to greet you, only this time it's you who is short. You have a little hope that he can't see straight through you. But you can see it in the way that he looks at you that you're an open book. Who's to say that he won't just watch, but actually kill you to keep you from talking. But deep down you both know your lips are shut tight.

So you work through the days, just ready to get home. You can hardly stand to look at him. It makes you feel like you're an accomplice. A sitting duck for a man who probably doesn't even care about you, withholding a tip to the police because deep down you really do like him. And you had hoped he liked you too until things got complicated. Now you think it would just be best if he abandoned you right where you were. But he doesn't. In fact, he suddenly has more courage than you'd ever seen from him. It's evident as he catches you by your arm and pulls you into the alleyway beside the office after work is over. It's dark and you'd be lying if you said you weren't scared, but he kisses you like nothing is wrong. Like he has no clue. Like nothing has changed.

You pull away from him, wide eyes staring back at him. "Are you okay?" He asks quietly as he brushes a hand up your arm. You can't help the break in your voice. "I know, Edward."

He just stands and stares. "What?" You take two steps back. "You're killing people." He continues to stare. He drops his hand from your arm. The silence scares you more than anything. But he simply sighs.

"I think you should go home and get some rest."

And before you can argue he walks away with a quickened pace.

━━━━

So you do. You return to your shitty apartment and try to compose yourself. What would he do now that you said that? Maybe you were wrong. Maybe you had accused him of something he genuinely didn't do. But it didn't feel wrong. You sigh as the hot water hits your back. You had hoped a shower would help you feel refreshed, but for the first time in a while, it feels like a chore. You can't enjoy it, so you rush through it. As you step into your bedroom you stop in your tracks. The window is slightly ajar, a cool draft flowing in tingles your bare legs. And then you see him. The figure in the darkness of your room. This time you're not dreaming.

He's in your room. You're paralyzed. The position you swore you'd never let yourself be put in. He's got the upper hand.

He just stands there. A part of you wishes he would attack you. Kill you. Anything just to break the still silence. You realize you're shaking. You agreed to play his game and now you're trailing his lead, allowing yourself to be beaten.

"Edward."

It comes out as a shaky whisper, but he visibly takes it in as he steps toward you to close the distance. You can see his eyes crinkle at the corners through the green mask. He's smiling. And he reaches a gloved hand to your face, cupping one cheek. You can feel the warmth radiating from his hand even through the glove. So, he is human. The Riddler has a beating heart and flowing blood. He is not a cold, lifeless monster. His stoic frame you had become so familiar with at work was gone. He catches a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

He is terrifying.

"No more through the window. I'll be gone soon."

Before you can entirely comprehend the statement and it's implications, your brain forms the word that leaves your mouth. "Gone?"

He simply smiles again, this time reaching his hands behind his head to abandon the mask he had come in with, and there he is. Cherubic features glowing under the street lamp light that flows in from your window. "I watched you live for a month. I watched you eat, sleep, undress, touch yourself. But you knew that right? Otherwise you wouldn't have put on such a show."

You attempt to struggle away from his grasp in disgust at his words but he holds you tight in front of him. "But that's alright. I'll tell you the truth because I hate liars. I liked knowing that you were doing it all for me. I wanted nothing more than to cleanse Gotham, to give them true salvation, but you put a dent into that plan. You became a distraction that I foolishly indulged." The soft light is hitting his features just right. He looks like an angel in devils' clothing. And his tight grip is right back to a gentle caress. His hand reaches the small of your back and you're sucking in a shrill breath.

His kiss is soft, inexperienced. Much like the other times you had kissed. But he is treating you like glass that might break. You think it might be the first time you've seen him relax enough to be seen as a particularly gentle being. He's ditched his looming, arrogant behavior you're so used to just to show you his utmost affection. It's the first time you have seen him like this since the first time you had kissed.

But some part of you is burning. He's not your prince charming. You know exactly what he is capable of, you've seen it. You're not glass. You're not a damsel. This is a man who has watched you undress for him through your window for weeks. This is a man who has killed. And it shouldn't bring heat into your core the way it does. Perhaps it's the thrill of the danger.

You kiss him so hard that your teeth clash. It stuns him as his hand lifts from your body momentarily before finding purchase at your hips. He's inexperienced, but the desperation coming from both of you is enough to cover it up.

The warmth and weight of his tongue in your mouth is intoxicating. The little sparks of guilt and shame that flash in your stomach are quickly subdued by his nimble fingers caressing under your nightgown and up your thighs to hook in the waistband of your panties. You can't help the pathetic moan that escaped your mouth as he slowly drags the fabric down your legs.

"I wanted to do it right. Wanted to take you to that diner, buy your food, take you home, and act like I hadn't thought about fucking you into your mattress every single night."

It's almost strange to see him on his knees. He has built himself up to be godlike. You were sure he wouldn't mind you on your knees in front of him. Absolutely worshipping him. The warmth of his tongue swiping over you has your thoughts lurching, and yes, god, he is divine.

"But it would be wrong to pretend to be someone I am not. I'm not a liar."

You can't help but tangle your fingers into his beautifully unkept hair and pull. He is ravishing you. Sinking two fingers into you until you feel the heavenly curl right into the spot that makes you whimper. "Eddie-" He swallows your moans in a desperate openmouthed kiss. His fingers are working you open, you can feel tightness build in your stomach. Like a rubber band ready to snap. But it's ripped away from you as he pulls his fingers out of you and swiftly pushes you to the bed. The sounds of his belt buckle coming undone has your heart racing faster than it already was, your stomach fluttering.

He buries himself inside of you with no hesitation, no time to adjust. It hurts and his inexperience is noticeable, but the look of bliss on his face and his slight whimpers has you ready to cum before you've even started.

You're gripping onto the back of the green leather parka, reminding yourself of who you're with. Who you're letting fuck you right now. But those green eyes bring you back to all those times he'd flash a slight smile your way in the office. He'd try to hide it but you're the only person he showed fondness towards in that hell hole of a workplace. Thinking back to the night he had kissed you has tears welling up in your eyes again. He notices.

He slows his pace momentarily, letting his short thrusts turn into long drags. A gloved hand wipes tears away once again and you meet his concerned gaze.

"Does this not make you happy?"

Your hands move to cradle his face. A move that he's certainly not used to as his thrust halt for a moment in surprise. "I am happy. But what comes after this? Am I supposed to ignore you and pretend I know nothing about you? That I feel nothing for you?" He stops his movements completely now. The room has fallen silent apart from the heavy breathing between you two.

"I have to mean nothing to you. Momentarily."

You knew the answer before you asked the question, but it hurts just as bad anyway. You don't take your eyes off his. The Riddler's facade is cracking before your eyes, you can see his eyes becoming glossy. It's almost like he's turned into a completely different person. He kisses you. Deeply, but not rough. There's so much pent up feeling behind it, you could sob even harder. But you don't and he keeps kissing you as he resumes his movements.

You're not using any protection, but you're too blissed out to care. You crave that feeling of warmth. "Eddie- I-"

His hips start to stutter as he cuts you off and buries his face in your neck. " I love you- please God- just say it back to me. Tell me you love me." You hold his face in your hands guiding his gaze to meet yours again. "Edward, I love you."

That's all it takes for him to fall apart. His whimpers and cries are like music to your ears and the feeling of warmth as he releases everything he has into you is blissful. You both have to take a second to recover, foreheads pressed together. But eventually he rolls off of you carefully and tucks himself back into his pants. The silence is deafening. You said it to push him over the edge, but was it true that you loved him? The idea of falling in love with Edward was easy in your mind, in a perfect world the idea of settling down somewhere else and waking up next to him felt good. But this wasn't a perfect world. Edward killed people, powerful people, and the chance that he'd get away without paying for it was slim.

"I'm gonna turn myself in in a couple of days."

"Okay."

"You should leave Gotham. It's not going to be safe for you here. If the cops ask you're visiting a friend in Bludhaven."

His hand grips yours as he looks at you.

"I promise if I ever get out, I'll find you."

━━━━

You do as he asked of you. Got a hotel in Bludhaven and in the next couple of nights you watched the television endlessly, waiting to see his face. The night you finally did, you cried yourself to sleep, gripping the hotel sheets as you buried your face into your pillow.

But you held yourself together and did as Edward asked.

When the man in the bat suit showed up at your hotel door a week after the flood you give your best answers.

"I'm visiting a friend, but the flood has kept me in town."

"No, I didn't know him well, we just worked together."

"I mean he was a little strange, but I never thought he would murder someone."

“I would never have expected it to be him.”

"I hope he gets the help he needs."

[autistichalsin]

I'm going to go off here just because I'm so frustrated.

So this drama all started when someone- a self-identified anti- posted a rant that I "wrote Halsin rape fantasy fiction." I was annoyed, as anyone would be, but even more because such a fiction didn't exist! But also, it sounded like a great fic, Halsin using a rape fantasy/consensual nonconsent to work through his Underdark traumas. So I said "you know what, I can't let the fake version of me you invented be cooler than the real me, can I?" And then I set to work plotting out Too Many Burdens to Bear, which would take about another month to be ready to post after that.

The group were angry at this, and soon after, they started a callout, cancelled me, harassed me, whatever word you want to use for this nonsense. They couldn't keep their story straight, from the start. Some of them claimed it was the simple fact that the fic was CNC that was wrong. Others, who were okay with CNC themselves but still wanted to have a reason to hate me, said my fic WASN'T CNC, and obviously that was the problem, it would be different "if" it was just CNC. (Then, when they were corrected, they....... never changed their tune.) Another said I was planning to write a fic about "Halsin being raped again" and had said "getting raped would help Halsin heal from his traumas."

It's like they're playing a game of telephone, but instead of changing a single word, the goal is to change the entire sentence.

Others insisted the problem was that I wrote it to "spite" the person who "only said they were uncomfortable with rape" (lol, then don't read it, you fucking dumbass!!!) I got told I was retraumatizing myself and others, that I didn't care about/fetishized rape, etc. They have since gone on to claim I posted the fic untagged, hoping to trigger the anti who started this.

These are the tags on the fic in question, which they would know if they bothered to LOOK at what they were criticizing.

Could this possibly be ANY better tagged? I even had someone who is squicked by PIV sex reach out to thank me because no one EVER warns for that. That's how above and beyond I went in avoiding squicking anyone.

Like, literally everything this group claimed about my actions being problematic falls apart with the most cursory check at the ACTUALITY of what has been posted.

And these people, who claim care SO much about rape, who care SO MUCH about survivors? Yesterday, Mish made a post about Neil (as in, Astarion's actor) getting sexually harassed, and one of these people replied that it was "hypocritical" to say so while supporting me, who writes CNC. When someone replied that this was about a real human, not fiction, they literally said they DIDN'T CARE. They care more about defending the honor of Halsin, a fictional survivor of rape, than they care about the real person who played Astarion, who is a REAL survivor of rape.

When Mish and I said we are both survivors of rape and sexual abuse, respectively, these people said we were "playing the survivor card" (an utterly vile thing to say). I received an anon questioning whether I was really sexually abused.

They also, at the same time as the initial bout of drama over my CNC fic, began calling me a pedophile because of an omegaverse Halsin headcanon I made. For those unaware, omegaverse is an AU with many related tropes. Which ones get used vary by the author, but they always include heats and animalistic behavior, and often include knotting, mpreg, themes of subjugation based on gender, breeding kink, and others. However, while the trope started as a kink one, it has since branched out, and some write fics without smut at all, instead focusing on gender dynamics, kidfic, or other aspects of the universe.

I made a headcanon that Halsin, who in that universe I headcanon as an omega- who, in omegaverse stories, can get pregnant, and have heats- would want children of his own. I headcanoned that after taking care of children at his commune after the ending, that this might trigger a heat for him.

A normal person would look at this and go "aw, Halsin has baby fever! Cute!"

These are not normal people, so they looked at it and went "ewww, this pedo thinks Halsin gets turned on by being around kids!"

They literally said this. While also admitting that they do not read omegaverse stories. Multiple people who do read them tried to explain that it's just how reproduction works in that AU, but this person just stuck their fingers in their ears and yelled "lalala HEATS ARE HORNY IF YOU WRITE HEATS IT'S ONLY TO BE HORNY HORNY HORNY! NOT LISTENING!"

After they accused me of being a pedophile for this, I fired back and said "if you can look at this headcanon and think it has anything to do with attraction to children, you're the pedophile." I should not have called them one back, and I apologize for it, but this person has since gone on to lie and play the victim, saying "I just said their tweet was a bit sus and they called me a pedophile FOR NO REASON." They also said that they "wouldn't have been so quick to call it pedo if [I] wasn't so open about being a proshipper."

If I wasn't so open about saying that fiction is not morality, you wouldn't have been so quick to say that my fiction represented my morality? Hmmm.

If you notice, their posts all have the same formulaic deception and manipulative slant to them: they will say something about the fiction I write/enjoy, or the characters I don't like, etc, with a personal attack against my character. When I respond, they will then claim to have been attacked, violently and without provocation, "just because" they (x), where (x) is the most blatant glossing over of their actions. Them calling me a pedophile became "just saying their tweet was sus." Them harassing me for weeks over a CNC fic that HADN'T EVEN BEEN WRITTEN YET was "just saying we aren't comfortable with rape." So uncomfortable with rape, remember, that they said they DIDN'T CARE about Neil being harassed, because CNC about Halsin was worse.

You would think these two things alone would be enough to utterly destroy this group's credibility; they are either blatant liars, or their perception of reality is so poor that nothing they say is to be trusted. Anyone who prioritizes a fictional character's rape over a real person's is not living in reality. Anyone who thinks baby fever is pedophilia should not be trusted on, well, anything. It would be like trusting a flat-earther to give geography lessons.

But unfortunately, people wanted to listen to them over Mish and I, and sadly, it's easy to see why. The antis positioned themselves so that if you disagreed with their harassment, you were "pro rape". And no one wants a label that toxic associated with them, so they jumped ship on principle. Even though Mish is the nicest person in the entire fandom and has never hurt anyone at all, even though Mish is an IRL advocate for rape survivors and against gender-based violence in her country and has thus done more for rape survivors than these people ever have or will. It doesn't matter to them.

Other equally bizarre accusations have been lobbed at us; I'm "lesbophobic" and "called all lesbians TERFs" (I called the rhetoric from a group of like five people TERF-ish, but since they think they represent all lesbians, they claimed it was against all lesbians- WHICH, by the way, is my identity as well. They are calling me a self-hating lesbian over this.)

This group has a history of starting harassment against people, then cry-bullying that the pushback they get is a form of lesbophoia; for example, a few months ago, they harassed a bi woman off of Twitter who asked them to stop being biphobic by calling it gross to ship Shadowheart, a canonically bisexual woman, with men. They branded this user lesbophobic and harassed her until she permanently deactivated. They posted that it was gross to ship Karlach with Dammon, too, and when a user, who is herself lesbian, headcanons Karlach as a lesbian, and doesn't ship her with Dammon chimed in to say why OTHERS ship it, they attacked her too. They attacked the actor for Rolan for sharing/supporting a fan petition for Rolan to be romanceable. They called Dave, Halsin's actor, a creep for sharing NSFW art of Halsin on his page, and tried to insinuate he was a pedophile (saying they wouldn't be surprised if he had a scandal like "that Genshin actor," who, for those who don't know, was found to have groomed a child online.)

They claimed that I "called everyone who doesn't like Halsin ableist", when what was actually said was that IF we call everyone who doesn't like Minthara lesbophobic because a lot of her fans are lesbians (which is a thing that one of them had just said), THEN using the same logic, we could say that hating Halsin is ableist because a lot of his fans are autistic. (Sidenote: this group of people repeatedly mocked my special interest (making meta essays) after being told it was my special interest, which is pretty gross, to me.)

It genuinely boggles my mind that a group of people can be so toxic to the actors and still given a platform in the fandom. This is entirely new behavior to me- even in the most toxic fandom's I've been in or rubbernecked on, harassing the actors was always considered the line not to cross and would make you persona non grata. It was the one thing everyone could agree on as unacceptable. Yet these people are openly attacking Dave's character and are still not only listened to when they make up allegations against people, but they are well-respected in the fandom. Either people don't think harassing an actor is a big deal anymore, these fans secretly AGREE with the harassment and slander against him, or (most generous explanation) they don't know who they're actually supporting here.

These people gleefully mocked my abuse from my mother. I said that some of Minthara's abusive actions (poisoning a romanced player without her consent) reminded me of similar actions my mom did, and are part of my aversion to the character. I posted this untagged- I even censored Minthara's name so that her fans wouldn't find it. But because they were cyberstalking me so obsessively, they QRTed it and proceeded to bring it up multiple times to snark about "the essential oils". When someone called them out and asked if they really thought it was funny, they answered, without hesitation, yes. They said that I had already "mocked my own abuse" by bringing up how Minthara triggers memories of her, so they therefore had every right to laugh at the bodily harm I faced when my mother would deliberately cause me asthma attacks by forcing me to inhale essential oils. Because I said that a fictional character's similar actions triggered memories of it. That was worthy of mocking to them.

So they support survivors of rape and abuse who have triggers related to fiction, unless that survivor is a survivor of child abuse who is triggered by their favorite character, in which case they deserve to be mocked. I guess they don't believe in supporting survivors who have trigger reactions to fiction after all... what a surprise. Almost like they never cared about anything they claimed to.

They're actually remarkably transparent about not actually caring about ANY issue they claim to champion. They claim to be fighting for rape survivors while harassing not one but two survivors from the fandom into mental breakdowns (the tweet about my mom was so bad it made me have a flashback, and their harassment of Mish did similar to her) and saying they DON'T CARE about Neil's sexual harassment because fiction about Halsin is more important. They claim to oppose lesbophobia while repeatedly attacking lesbians who disagree with them on anything from shipping to whether queer male sexuality is inherently predatory. I could go on.

Somehow, no matter how blatant it is that they don't actually care about anything, and are just using fake moralizing as a vehicle for sadism, people still keep taking them at face value. Again, I get it. They have positioned themselves as fighting against rape and abuse, so by extension, they have positioned it so that anyone who is against them is liable to be accused of supporting rape and abuse. It's a great system for them, really; bullying is a behavior that would otherwise be reviled, but by framing everyone they don't like as a bad person, as an existential threat to marginalized communities (who, conveniently, always have their own marginalized identities ignored until it becomes convenient to bring it up again to harass them for it), they turn their bullying into not only something acceptable, but into a moral act to be commended. A moral obligation, even, because don't pedos deserve to be hunted for sport? (This is the same reason why the alt-right is obsessively pedojacketing the entire LGBT community as they move to censor queer fiction, for the record.)

I don't know what else to say besides that I really, really hope that people are waking up to that group's nonsense, or at least that they will soon, and will realize that fiction is not reality, and that that group of known disingenuous liars and manipulators are being... disingenuous liars and manipulators, yet again.

Unfortunately, it's too late since they've already chased Mish out of the fandom, and I will honestly never forgive that group of people and their enablers for it. But I have hope that maybe the rest of the fandom will come around, especially because, as all of us who have experience with antis know, they are never going to stop. They aren't going to stop targeting people for everything from making a harmless mod that turns Scratch into Astarion to saying it's okay to ship Karlach/Dammon or Shadowheart/men to writing a fic about Halsin using kink to explore his trauma from being enslaved to being an actor for the show who retweets NSFW art of his character to making a headcanon that Astarion wants to dance with Tav to making an omegaverse headcanon... I could go on and on.

Sorry for the novel, and I hope this is the last post I make about this drama, but I am so beyond tired and frustrated. This hurt Mish deeply- the nicest person in the entire fandom- and seeing the raw sadism from her bullies, sadism that is being praised, makes me feel physically ill, honestly.

I won't be using any fandom tags for this post, but I will be tagging this with various proship related things since I feel this is relevant.

[hellomynameisbisexual]

Bisexual Basics

— Karin Baker

THE MOST BASIC thing about bisexuality is that it unlinks what most cultures see as a fundamental connection: sex and gender. If you can understand that for some people sexual attraction is not tied to a specific gender, then you understand the most important thing about bisexuality.

At least in the United States, separating sexuality and gender is difficult. While public attention—negative and positive—has recently been focused on homosexuality, the idea that it is not the only alternative to heterosexuality is less often recognized. This is not surprising, given that here as in most western cultures, there is a tendency to organize concepts dualistically, to see only opposites.

Heterosexuality and homosexuality as related ideas are one example. Thus, even while homosexuality is not an acceptable alternative to heterosexuality for many people, it is clearly fixed in their minds as the other option. Few conceive that there could be a third option, or even a continuum of possibilities.

This or That

Bisexuals sometimes refer to society’s tendency to dichotomize as an “either/or” approach. You must be attracted to either women or men, be either heterosexual or homosexual—what bisexuals sometimes lump together and call “monosexual.” Similarly, in our society, no matter what your actual racial background, you are seen as either white, or a person of color.

In contrast, some of us see bisexuals as having an approach to sexuality that could be called “both/and.” We are heterosexual and homosexual, both at the same time—which actually adds up to something completely different.

The woman whose parents are respectively white and African American is not racially or culturally half one and half the other. She is a blending of the two, in which neither aspect can be separated out. Similarly, bisexuals are not “part” queer, or “part” straight—we are what we are.

The Continuum of Sexuality

Maybe the idea that sexual attraction actually falls on a continuum, rather than clumping around homosexuality and heterosexuality, seems obvious. As a bisexual person, it is certainly obvious to me. However, I have come to realize that some are confounded by the idea.

This inability to imagine that someone could truly be attracted to more than one gender is probably the origin of myths such as “bisexuals don’t really exist,” and “bisexuals just haven’t made up their minds yet.” For some, sex means desire for women or men, but never both.

In a recent example, a bisexual friend of mine overheard a conversation between a lesbian and a gay man in which both commented on how confused bisexuals were. One of them said, “sooner or later bisexuals have to make up their minds!”

I wish I’d been there to ask them, why? Can you explain the basis for your reasoning? Why can’t we have already made up our minds—to be bisexual?

It seems to be hard to escape the assumption that there are only two choices, and everyone must ultimately settle for one of them. I have never heard a logical argument, or any biological law that explains why this choice is so unavoidable.

I have an easier time with this when I think about how hard it is for me to grasp attraction to one gender only, whether gay/lesbian or straight attraction. Because sexuality and gender aren’t linked for me, I’m surprised when I hear about people who are only attracted to women, or only attracted to men.

As a feminist I can understand why some women would choose not to be with men. I can also see that a person might want something in a sexual relationship that is more typically found with one gender or the other. But how could one gender always fall outside the boundaries of sexual possibility?

I believe that it happens, because people tell me that it’s true for them. It’s just extremely hard to imagine.

In fact, we bisexuals have a tendency (which I resist in myself) to think that all people are potentially bisexual. If they haven’t acted on it yet, monosexuals must either be repressed, or they just haven’t found the “right man”/“right woman” yet.

I suppose this is the bisexual equivalent of the monosexual perception that bisexuals are just going through a phase and haven’t made up our minds yet.

Gender in Bisexual Attraction

Although gender is not a limiting factor for bisexuals, it does sometimes play a role in bisexual attraction.

Some bisexuals that I know are attracted to women and men for gender-specific reasons. For instance, they like women because they see them as: easy to talk to, or nurturing, or soft and curvy; and they like men because they find them: straightforward, or more assertive, or hard and muscular (or some such gendered reasons).

So in this case, gender is part of the formula, but not a limiting factor.

Other bisexuals I have spoken with are also attracted to women and men differently, but they turn the previous specifications upside down. These bis say they find they like butch women and effeminate men. In a way this comes down to appreciating people to the extent that they escape genderedness.

But there are also many bis, such as myself, for whom gender has no place in the list of things that attract them to a person. For instance, I like people who are good listeners, who understand me and have interests similar to mine, and I am attracted to people with a little padding here and there, who have fair skin and dark hair (although I’m pretty flexible when it comes to looks).

“Male” or “female” are not anywhere to be found in the list of qualities I find attractive.

Monosexual Misconceptions

Bisexuals in the United States often experience hostility from lesbians and gay men, as in the incident described above. Lesbians and gay men, like heterosexuals, are often uncomfortable with breaking out of a dualistic way of looking at things.

Bisexuals blur boundaries thought to be fixed in stone, and this is disturbing.

Actually, bisexuals may appear to pose a more direct threat for lesbians and gay men than this general social disturbance. Lesbians and gay men who a in our society have almost always gone through a long process of leaving their family and heterosexual friends, as they leave the closet.

The community that rejected them is replaced by the one they join when they come out; the lesbian and gay community becomes their new family and friends, the place where they feel security and belonging.

Bisexuals who pop up in their new community blur its boundaries, making it feel less safe, less apart from the rejecting heterosexual community. Especially for those who believe that a bisexual has a fifty-fifty chance of finally choosing heterosexuality, a bisexual may well appear as the enemy within their midst.

Bisexuals often face misconceptions shared by lesbians, gay men, and heterosexual people. One of these is mentioned above: that bisexuals are confused people who havent made up their minds yet.

Undoubtedly some bisexuals are in a transitional phase between heterosexuality and homosexuality, but this is not necessarily so. And even when it is true, why should transition be seen as problematic?

Another common myth is that bisexuals are not committed to the struggle against queer oppression. Like many stereotypes, this may have some basis in reality. There are bisexuals who stay in the closet, who gravitate toward opposite gender relationships, marriage, and whatever else it takes to fit in.

Of course, many gay men and lesbians also never make it out of the closet. In fact, the lesbian and gay movement has always included bisexuals. Some have been openly bi, while others haven’t felt it worth the struggle to be open in the face of disapproval from the community that is so important to them.

Today, some bisexuals, like some gay men and lesbians, are not interested in getting involved in political struggle, but many others are very active within the queer community.

Another misconception is the idea that to be bisexual you must be sleeping with both women and men, and along with this, probably cheating on your partner. This is like saying that you cannot call yourself a lesbian (or gay, or straight) if you are single and celibate.

I believe that you’re bisexual (homosexual, heterosexual) if that’s what you call yourself. Your orientation stays the same, you still feel attraction, whatever your current actions.

Now it’s true, there are bisexuals who feel more fulfilled if they have relationships with a woman and a man. Some of these may have an agreement with their partner(s), and some not, but bisexuals are not the only sexual orientation where unorthodox relationships can be found, or where some cheat on their partners.

Bisexual Oppression?

A lesbian once told me that bisexuals experience oppression only to the extent that we “are homosexual.” She used this as an argument for leaving the name “bisexual” off titles of marches, community centers, newspapers, etc.

Who is included in group names has been a controversy for years (going back at least to the time when including the word “lesbian” was controversial because “gay” could supposedly count for both).

I don’t agree that bisexuals face only homosexual oppression. It’s true that when we are in same-sex relationships, one of the things we experience is heterosexism (and also, in our opposite sex relationships we do not as directly face the oppression gay men and lesbians face, although if we are openly bisexual we never completely escape heterosexism).

However, bisexuals confront forms of oppression that lesbians and gay men do not. Bisexual oppression includes compulsory monosexuality and the invisibility that is a result of monosexism. We are made invisible when people can’t conceive of sexual attraction that isn’t tied to one gender or the other, thereby denying our existence.

Even face to face, there is nothing about us that says we’re bisexual—if we’re with the same gender it’s assumed we’re lesbian/gay, and we must be straight if our partner is of the opposite gender.

Unless we happen to be holding hands and kissing a woman and a man simultaneously, an either/or way of seeing things means most people will automatically categorize us as either homosexual or heterosexual. This is monosexism at work.

In recent years some things have changed for bisexuals in the United States. We have started to find each other and form organizations and small communities. Conferences happen regularly in different parts of the country, and a national network exists.

Books about bisexuals multiply, as we tell our stories and develop theories about how we fit in. Much to the discomfort of some lesbians and gay men, we have been increasing the pressure to have our presence within the queer community acknowledged.

It seems inevitable that we will have an impact on how the people of this country view sexuality. Will this go further and affect the fundamental tendency toward dualistic categorizing, the either/or mindset?

[icycoldninja]

Can you write the DMC boys with a reader who’s extremely wary, if not, straight up paranoid around men?

Like on the surface, you can see that she’s seemingly chill around men, but internally, she’s shitting herself due to how uncomfortable she is around them

To sum up how badly paranoid she is around them, I can give you some examples:

- If she gets called by someone whom she knew is a man, she’ll most likely would not pick up because she can’t tell a difference between a kidnapping scenario and a normal phone call -> leads to her sometimes not picking up their phone calls ( intentionally) unless someone else whom she trusts is beside her to rescue her

- If a man ask her to accompany them to somewhere else, she would internally panic because she thinks to herself “Should I propose to going out in public so incase he did try to kill me, I can easily scream for help?!”; “Will he ask me out?! How would he react if I reject him?! Will he orchestrate a plan to kidnap me and rape me?!” ; etc when in reality, that man could be asking for her help, shining the flashlight so he could fix his car easily -> leads to her only hanging out with the boys in public or anywhere that has the presence of other people, which means, not a lot of privacy between both of them

- If the boys and the reader sleep together, she would lowkey be ecstatic but mainly paranoid as hell, to the point where she could imagine 100 kinds of scenarios in which the boys could be taking advantage of her when she sleeps so she secretly hides a dagger underneath her pillow and pretend to fall asleep so the boys do not grow suspicious of her. In reality, she’s very much awake and alert, staring at them eyes wide open, not dare blinking asleep with a dagger close to her heart, ready to fight back -> her having sleepless nights and grows extremely exhausted much to the boy’s confusion, wondering how tired she must be even though they do saw her falling asleep ( presumably )

-If she had to walk home alone, she would hold her precious Swiss knife close to her heart, ears and eyes always be on the lookout for even a faint sound or image, ready to strike and would stare down at a man across the street to back off and leave her alone, even when the man could be minding his own business -> leads to her being too independent sometimes and not wanting to accept their help taking her home because she thinks they would take advantage of her as well which honestly dishearten them

-She always carry around a pack of condom in case if she did unfortunately get 🍇’d, she can still prevent sex-related diseases and unwanted pregnancies

That affects their live life a lot because they felt that they’ve never been connected to the reader as she always seemingly repulse from them. It isn’t until they saw how comfortable she is around women and uncomfortable around (not only them) other men as well

That leads to them coerce her into answering them, not straight up being a pushover did she sobs and told them

P/S: That’s how I act around men and I can’t help myself….It’s exhausting because I can’t feel connected to anyone and have genuine friendships and relationships with someone of the opposite gender without coming up with multiple scenarios of how they would kidnap me, torture me, sa’d me

I'm so sorry to hear that. I know my words are meaningless since I'm just a stranger on the internet, but I hope you can heal from whatever is causing this, because as someone who has a father and brother, I can tell you not all men are like that, only the real trashy ones. Hope you enjoy.

Sparda boys + V x Paranoid!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-Dante doesn't understand why you're so paranoid. He knows he might come off as intimidating to some, but he's not a bad guy, trust him!

-He won't push you to hang out with him because he's sure that if he gives you space, you might warm up to him.

-This only partially works, as you don't ever want to go anywhere with him unless other people will be around, which made it really hard to establish a relationship.

-Dante refuses to give up, though, and kept trying, mostly communicating with you over the phone, even though you rarely picked up. Most people would have just given up and left you to your devices, but he refuses to let that happen.

-When you guys eventually establish a relationship and sleep together for the first time, you're still paranoid as hell and keep your knife under your pillow. Of course, once Dante starts cuddling up to you, your fear starts to dissipate.

-Indeed, for while Dante could easily snap your neck in half, he would never do such a thing. He loves you with all his heart and does nothing but try to protect and soothe you, even when you resist.

■ Vergil ■

-Vergil understands he is a very imposing man, so he does not question your fearfulness. He leaves you be, not wanting any drama, and just some quiet time so he can read his book.

-You got a lot of encouragement from the DMC girls to go up and talk to him, but you always refused. At some point, the whole DMC staff had to go on a giant mission, and since everyone would be there, you figured it would be safe to go too.

-It took Vergil saving your life from a particularly nasty creature for you to understand that he is looking out for you, even if he never shows it.

-You're still very on edge around him, especially at home, but after watching you take your knife with you to the bathroom, Vergil decided to put an end to all that and sit you down on the couch before explaining that he has never even thought about harming you in any way.

-It's unlikely you'll be getting over this fear anytime soon, but at least you can rest a little easy knowing Vergil isn't going to try anything without asking you first.

-And when he said he'd ask for permission, he meant about everything, he might as well ask if he can breathe the same air as you.

□ Nero □

-Nero was recommended to you by Nico, whom you trust. She gave him glowing reviews, and even dragged you over to say hi.

-Nero was informed beforehand about your paranoia and did his best to make you feel comfortable, though that was very difficult.

-You guys only hang out when Nico and Kyrie are around, but still, you managed to create a pretty strong friendship.

-You still refused to pick up the phone when he called or answer any of his texts, but you guys managed to make it work, somehow.

-When you guys finally get into a relationship, you're still pretty nervous, but Nero is so nice and protective of you, you can't help but wonder if your fears are no longer necessary.

-He really is the sweetest boy in the world, and may be the key to healing you.

● V ●

-V is not like other guys, literally. He has a talking bird that encourages you to say hi, always whispering things in your ear.

-Yes, you're terrified and uncomfortable beyond comprehension, but V just doesn't seem that bad. He actually looks harmless.

-Griffon is constantly assuring you V wouldn't do anything to hurt you, because he can't really fight without his familiars, and according to Griffon, all his familiars love you.

-You are still extremely wary and keep your knife about you at all times, even when you get into a relationship and all that.

-V is such a sweetheart, though, doing his best to make you feel loved and comfortable, not trying anything unless you want him to.

-When you need space, V will give you space, no hard feelings, no worries.

[epilogue-and-prologue]

Happiness - Part 2

Fandom: LOTR

Ship: Eomer x F!Reader

Trope: Arranged marriage

Note: Reader is Elfhelm's daughter and I invented a lot for what I didn't know so probably A LOT of mistakes.

Fun facts: I only wrote this extended fic for this one sex scene during their wedding night. This gif is my favourite thing to look at right now. It's late and I'm tired so.

Word counts: 4 090

Warnings: Dealing with grief, loved one's deaths, depression, SMUT at some point, poverty, war's aftermath, diplomatic relations, pregnancy, blood, miscarriage

Tags: @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @middleearthpixie @glassgulls @evenstaredits @fizzyxcustard @sotwk

During the long weeks leading to the wedding, your days were either spent with your mother or Gera, taking over in your mother’s absence.

Indeed, thanks to your father’s insistence, she had been appointed as the wedding organizer. Or something akin to it. She was fussing and busying herself like she had never before, not even for Moira’s wedding. Your mother was a force of nature, but she could be a lot and having Gera was a good contrast to your mother’s buzzing energy.

First, the chiefmaid had kept you company or helped you find your way around the place. Quickly, she became a big part of your days. You visited orphanages with her and brought food to those in need in Sofia’s company. Over these shared times, she became a godmother of sorts - and her daughter a friend - always present when you needed them, and you always there when they needed you.

“Milady, I do believe it is most improper for you to work with the cooks in the kitchen.”

It had taken you almost three whole days of imploring her before you had managed to make Gera yield.

Gera did not believe in such a fantasy as fun. It was working or resting, no in-between. With that statement in mind, she had still followed you to the kitchen while you were asking questions to the bewildered pastry chefs meeting the future queen in such an unofficial manner.

When she asked for what purpose you wanted to cook, the word “fun” came out of your mouth. “To forget” would have been a more accurate description. Eomer’s attitude towards you had become erratic and even avoidant. You could not know why as he would not give you straight answers, always mentionning something he needed to take care of. The gestures of affection he had towards you were limited to him occasionally kissing your forehead and offering you his arm while walking. You had not had a good walk in days, the weather going grim with your mood.

The plates you were cooking always ended up given to people in need.

After that first expedition, it had become a habit of yours to go down to the kitchen to help, a few hours here and there when you could.

But, for every effort you made, Eomer seemed to have forgotten about you. Your actions were out of boredom, but if it could benefit the poorer all the better. He was always busying himself with new economic plans or diplomatic correspondence. He would not tell you about any of those things either and you figured it would take his mind off of things to talk about more mundane things. Like cooking. Suffice to say, it did not work.

So, when he stepped into the kitchen one day, leaving Gera to usher the poor cooks away, you were surprised, to say the least.

“Milady, you do know it is most improper for a future queen to wander around without an escort.

It had to be a trick of the mind though, Eomer did not feel that way and he had made that clear, spending all of his time away from you. Telling you about her. Amongst the fleeting moments of affection you had shared, he had talked to you about Enora. About the woman she was. It felt as a much needed talk for him. For you, it left you questioning everything. Even his commitment to you. Especially his commitment. It was clear that he wanted to keep you out. What for, that was a question you did not have the answer to, as many others when it came to him.

I had Gera until you arrived, my lord.”

He called your name in a soft commanding tone. You could feel the embrace you were missing in his words.

“I am sorry, that you find no suitable distractions in the castle. Nevertheless, you can not come in here. It is not your place. Nor mine as it turns out.”

You sighed. This day was bound to happen. It was improper, and that was that. People would talk. Even he had to uphold his status. He had to, even if he did not want to. Just like you soon enough.

“I know. I am aware of that. I just… Needed space. From the wedding’s preparation, from my mother - I love her but she’s hovering a lot these days, maybe… maybe even from myself. I cannot hear myself think these days.”

You could have sworn his cheeks took a hint of pink as you looked at him from under your lashes. Unbeknown to you, he had grown quite fond of hearing what you were doing and who you were doing it for, your good deeds to his people never going unheard. The cakes going to orphaned children in need, bread to the beggars in the streets, when you were not willingly spending time with the servants, giving a hand where you could. He admired your dedication and kindness a little more every day, despite himself, and his lost lover’s shadow.

-Yet, you do not share that with me. We have not talked much or been in the same room for longer than a few moments since the engagement has been announced. Were you trying to avoid me?”

“I know. I feel the same way.

Over the weeks, your presence had been missing. The little things he would have loved to be doing with you. Your hand on his arm at the engagement party imprinted in his mind. He missed you. All of you. Eomer had thought himself more of a practical person, reasonable, and smart. In this case, he had thrown everything out of the window. Where his first fiancée enhanced his duties, you made up new ones. You were so different, her and you. You could not compare to her and she could not compare to you. She was gone and you were alive. So alive, he yearned for you in a way he had forgotten. You made him feel again.

His head bowed, his eyes cast down. Words were escaping him. He had thought long and hard about this relationship.

“Yes. I was trying to avoid you.”

Your anger was only growing within you. You were frustrated by his actions but could not blame him for them. When it came to Eomer, you had become blind. As soon as you had recognized it for what it was, it felt easier to smile when thinking of him even if he was not thinking of you. No matter what he would do, you knew you would forgive, for you would love him. From that first day until the last.

His voice was lower now, as one of a child being chastised.

“I was afraid.”

His steps brought him next to you, only a meter or two from where you were. Just as he lowered his voice, you softened yours.

“How could you be afraid? I am just a woman.”

His hand took yours and you released a sigh you did not know you were holding. In the back of your mind, you willed your memory to keep those moments tucked away safely. You were sure they would not happen again.

“A woman in grief. A woman I chose. A woman I can not seem to care for as she needs.”

He closed in on you, a mere breath away now, his palm a gentle reminder of his presence on the side of your face, your eyes closed for your own sake. You could not drown in him. You would not. Not when it meant heartbreak.

“Sometimes, I try not to seek you out.”

You could not look at him, but from under your lids, you could feel his breath fanning over your cheek, his head bowed to you in silent prayer. The question burned your lips.

“Why not?”

His hands were now cradling your face, your eyes forced to look at him. His brows furrowed, lips parted in quiet stillness, the way he looked at you, mercy and hurt in the eye, made your heart clench in despair.

“I am guilty of selfishness. When I am with you, I forget. I forget what she looked like and who she was. When I am with you, the ghost of her disappears and I don’t know if…”

His lips parted, as if to say something again, were an invitation you could not refuse. Pushing a little you grabbed him by his collar and kissed him with everything you had. His hands found your waist, making you pull away brutally.

-What for?

“I am sorry, my lord, I…

-The… Just now. And… I did not wish to make you forget. You loved her. Why would I wish to erase her from your memories? She’s a part of you. But, I am selfish too, and…”

You took a deep breath. The feelings you had wanted to snuff out were too strong now. They had to be faced and felt.

-I promise.”

“If you are feeling the way you tell me you are, then I need to know you will be there fully when you’re with me. I… Eomer, I cannot compete with a ghost.

There had been no hesitation in his voice.

He grabbed your face in his hands, and kissed you again, slowly, with eternity in his mind.

The day of the wedding was the worst. You could not see each other all day, it had you both on edge. You were nervous beyond what you could handle, your mother feeding you sweets and Gera swiftly pushing the maids out of your room. You were sure you would suffocate.

Every day it was something new. One day it was a brush of his lips below your ear. The other, his fingers linking with yours discreetly. Another one, he pulled you into an alcove, kissing you senseless, breathless, leaving marks on the exposed skin of your neck.

Once you walked down the aisle, your father’s arm securing and anchoring you, your nerves disappeared. Your father’s teary eyes as he handed you over, almost made you cry, but Eomer’s fond looks shook you to your core. Only then did you notice that the sword he had at his side kept his hand from shaking. A genuine smile on your lips, you had covered his hands with your own, wishing to settle him. The emotion in the man had been threatening to overwhelm him. He had hold onto you for comfort as you wished he would.

The ceremony and the festivities had gone by so fast, it had felt like the blink of an eye. Your parents were dancing and seemed happier than you had seen them in a very long time. They were smiling and laughing, bickering so much, you felt happy for them too. Eomer’s hand surprised you, sneaking under the table and linking his fingers with yours. He leaned down and kissed your cheek, before kissing your lips, your hand cradling his face the cold metal of your wedding band only making it harder to stop. You were his. To love and to hold, forever. How could he have been so lucky, he would never know. But he was willing and wanted to make you understand that. Your doubts and need for reassurance, although not voiced, were clear to him, in the soft moments you shared, a hint of anxiety always taking you over. He never wanted you to doubt his love and attachment for you.

Quickly enough, the night came to an end and the moment to go back to your chambers arrived. The thought of him sharing a bed with you brought a new kind of warmth to your body. The past few days your imagination had been running wild. Not that you would own up to it in front of him. Ever.

Upon entering the room, the door closing behind you, you stepped back until you were met with the wooden surface. It was your salvation when Eomer showed himself, barefoot and naked from the waist up. You wondered if your legs were not going to give out.

In the semi-darkness, silence overcoming everything, he feared you might have swallowed your tongue. In truth, you thought you had, your breathing becoming laboured and uneven.

He called your name, as you were staring, eyes blown while looking at his chest and the expanse of his shoulders, the grave notes in his voice only eliciting more heat to bloom in your abdomen. You bit your lips, not hearing him until he grabbed your shoulders.

“Hm?”

He chuckled, his knuckles caressing the side of your jaw, goosebumps left in his path. Your hands were clasped behind your back, not knowing what to do nor how to do it. Unease took hold of you where there had been only anticipation before. Eomer noticed. He stepped back, looking at you with hunger. He swallowed discreetly. You looked magnificent. His own chest was raising and falling rapidly, the adrenaline in his veins thining his patience to a thread. It made you feel desired and loved more than you could fathom.

“My love, what is the matter?”

“I-… I’ve never been with…a man before…”

You sighed, the endearment on his lips only making it harder to speak.

Fearing you might take offence if he said he knew - even though he did know -, Eomer kissed your temple trying to soothe you. His smile mirrored your own, as his hand slid behind your back, bringing you closer to him. His eyes kept looking into your own.

“I will show you if you wish.”

His lips a mere whisper away from your own, you only nodded. The span of his hands covered your hips as he kissed you. You could feel the laces of your dress coming undone thanks to his handy work, tender kisses caressing the length of your throat, and Eomer holding you against him in a gentle grip. Once the pool of cloth at your feet, your light under-dress was the only barrier between him and you. His kisses were growing heavier with every passing minute, the gentle hold he had turning into him trying to melt his body with yours. Without a word he hoisted you up in his arms, carrying you towards the bed. As he laid you down, your eyes went to the shadows of the fire on the wall before coming back to Eomer, his hair undone, tickling your bare shoulder in the dark. The space above his collarbone, the bridge of his nose, his fingers against your throat, everything illuminated by the feverish light.

Before he looked, his lips against your own he quietly asked “Is this alright…wife?”

Before you could dwell on it, he claimed your mouth for his own, his chest to yours. Your fingers found themselves in his hair, earning a grunt from him, making your core clench and your hand stop. He smirked at that as if he knew what had happened. His palm pulled up your last garment until the birth of your hips, almost revealing yourself to him.

A “Yes” escaped your tongue before you could keep it against the roof of your mouth. After all why would you?

The sweet nothing in his mouth made you whimper out of nowhere.

He helped you out of your dress, leaving the soft caress of his palms up and down your chest, the planes of his hands down your stomach and your back, open-mouthed kisses on your breasts leaving you arching into him, struggling to breathe and how he could be everywhere all at once you would never know, but you would not have stopped it for the world. His mouth trailed down your stomach, always looking at you, always making sure you were alright, just the right amount of overwhelming from him. When he reached the apex of your thighs, you noticed his bare ass in the flickering light of the fire. You swore under your breath. It only made him laugh against you.

“See something you like, princess?”

An idea came to you.

-Hmm?”

“Queen.

You propped yourself onto your elbows, looking him dead in the eye.

-Indeed… then I should treat you as such, should I not?”

“I am not a princess.

His mischievous eyes were new to you. You did not mind them one bit.

You moaned loudly when his tongue flattened against your clitoris. His eyes narrowed and he kept on going, a thirsty man finding a source to drink from. Your body arched of its own accord, full cries escaping you. Something deep in your belly was threatening to snap when he stopped. Concern was etched on his face, his lips gleaming in the dim light as he reached for your face. You shivered at the sight.

“I am alright, husband.”

You nestled your face in his palm, kissing the calloused fingers one by one.

“What about you?”

His body settled next to yours, and you could feel him against your thigh as you turned. Your mouth ran dry at the thought of him inside you.

“I am content.”

He pushed a hair out of your face, feeling the heat of your breath against his nose. What a sight you were. Pupils blown, lips swollen by his ministrations, your skin reacting to the harsh touch of his beard, a path down your body he started following with his fingers down and down again between your thighs. As he met your core, you held onto his shoulder, whimpering again, biting your lip in a silent plea for pleasure. Despite it all, you managed to utter a question.

“Only content?”

His head in the crook of your neck, you felt him stop, now looking straight at you with an adoration you were sure you could not grow tired of. You felt his fingers as he entered you. One, then the other. The soft burn of the stretch kept you from saying anything, your nails digging into his back, his hair now hovering above you, kisses raining on you. He did not answer you, only moving his fingers back and forth until you could not feel the burn of them anymore. He had you rocking your hips onto his hand, filthy sounds surrounding you, the thought of ever leaving this room having left you entirely, drunk on him and only him. Only then did he answer.

“I could not be happier than in your arms.”

“Tonight is not about me. But if you ask…” half a smile crossed his features, as you were marvelling at him, sweating and hungry for more. You never thought anyone could look at you with such reverence in their eyes.

Your heart clenched. Your hips stilled between his hands before he pulled your legs apart.

“If any of this hurts you, please tell me.”

As he pulled himself out, you could feel it down your thighs. It made you hungry for more, somehow. The emptiness he had left behind was soon replaced by the warmth of the sheets on you, his arm sneaking around your waist. He pulled you to him, your head resting on his chest, eyes weary and tired. He did not say a word, the pad of his thumb tracing the column of your spine in lazy strokes and you could hear his heart under you ever so erratic becoming soft and in rhythm with yours. Never could you have imagined this to happen to you. It was nothing short of a miracle, that he found you and you him. You let yourself bask in it for a little while, the shadows of the room luring you into a daydream you longed for deep in your soul.

He laid himself on top of you, his weight never suffocating you, his eyes ever so inquisitive. You nodded slowly, fingers weaving in his hair making him close his eyelids under your care. He placed himself between your legs, your folds welcoming him in a warm embrace. As he pushed into you, a tear escaped you, a dull pain at the pit of your stomach appearing. It stopped with the movement of his hips against yours, ever so gentle, his irises never leaving your face, forehead against yours, before leaving blazed kisses on your skin. Something feral woke up deep inside you, your hand clawing at his back, enticing him to keep going. His groans and moans were echoing in your chest, when he bit down on your shoulder with a swift bite, drawing blood to the surface. The heel of his hand was gripping tightly your ass, moving your legs until they were locked at the ankle behind his back. You felt a renewal of pleasure as he moved your legs higher, visibly impossible for him to stop. His hips were sure to leave bruises on your own. Soon after, you met your end, in a blinding white light, clenching around him. Then he could not stop himself from rutting into you, leaving his seed deep inside you.

“Do you want a boy or a girl?”

The question was asked as if in pleading, praying the bubble you were in would not burst with its utterance. Eomer merely smiled, reassuring you. He grabbed your fingers, kissing your knuckles one after the other in a tender gesture.

“Both.”

His cheeky grin made you smile despite yourself. Your eyebrows rose of their own accord, not able to hide your surprise. Amused by his newly found confidence, you laughed and kissed him deeply, weaving your hand with his. When you tried to pull back, his teeth grazed your bottom lip, and a shiver ran down your spine, eyes wide open. The warmth you felt before, came again. You pulled yourself up and as you were laying on top of him, kissed him as deeply as you could. He did not stop you, his hands on your hips again, where you could feel the friction leaving him hard again. The power you had over him was so obvious. It would have been a crime not to use it to your advantage.

On instinct, a hand to the headboard to support yourself, you dragged your core up the length of him never looking away from his eyes. This new side of you was a pleasant surprise he was delighted to discover. A grunt and an insult passed his lips as the movement dragged down, before starting again, and again, and again. Seeing him willingly relent his control into your hands did things to you, you never thought yourself capable of. Abruptly, his grip on your hips tightened in a desperate gesture to stop your actions.

-…inside me.”

“As much as this is pleasant, I’d rather be…

It had rolled off your tongue so easily. Sultry tone and all. Eomer wondered how he would cope if you were to disappear from his life, taking all you were away from him. The answer never came as he snapped back to you, guiding you down on him. A soft whimper escaped your lips, your back arching into his skillful hands, while he kept on guiding you, the movement of your hips made him jerk upwards deeper into you. Making you cry out in pleasure was his new favourite thing to do, he believed it to his very core. The little sighs, your heaving chest, your hands clasped on his, right on the dips at your hips, the full-out cries, the whimpers, the way you felt as you desperately chased your climax, everything turned him on more and more with each passing minute. The worst part was the way you looked at him, with only desire dilating your pupils, adoration in your every movement when he pulled you down for a sloppy, messy, heated kiss. Forehead against his, your hips moving on instinct, the hot breaths shared between you, all of it turning feverish upon reaching the high you were seeking, before it all snapped, a heat leaking into you as he pushed deeper than before.

You stayed there, relieved, shivering in pleasure. He was still, inside of you, not willing to let you go just yet.

“Sleep now. We have all the time in the world, wife.”

You did not even bother to meet his eyes, as yours were already closing.

“No. I want to be pregnant. Now.”

Eomer laughed and it shook your whole body. Barely registering his kiss on your temple, you fell asleep as he had asked you to, in his arms, protected and content.

Next and last part

[laylawatermelon]

70.6 - 7.07 Speculation/ Buddie Meta

I am a writer y'know hehe

So, Buddie is happening.

Now let me explain.

Bi buck always existed, but the problem is that most of his consistent emotional relationship one could argue realistically romantically has been with a man he's known for years.

But has always been bi yes, but he's also been in love with his best friend for a really long time.

Friends to lovers where Y'all at? I see y'all madney truthers

Anyways I understand but what has kind of been bothering me is the fact that Buddie the ship has been abandoned/negated as not an important past of the puzzle for bi buck realization despite the fact that Eddie is physically present throughout his entire relationship/storyline.

I could argue that because they're mirrors to each other (corny soulmate type shit is perfect for network tv) this is the best way to ease people into it.

Buck and Eddie are the two beloved firefighters (and respective sex symbols). They have an appeal for the straight audience for that reason.

Lou already spoiled it but he's only here for a while.

There's been almost blatant explanations and dialogue that leads to the fact that this relationship is going to directly lead into buddie one way or another.

Tommy has from the beginning suspected that Buck (I'm calling him Evan in my head in regards to him and it's so weird 😖) and Eddie have an unusual relationship or that Buck is in love with Eddie at least.

(MY attention? is the biggest example.)

My prediction is that their mirrors of each other, the parallels, and red flags pop up too often now.

I know they're still writing the show and are likely watching audience engagement and ao3 (I'm watching you Tim ik you're here I'm new but ik you got shooters out here) for where to go with the story.

In Eddie's (frankly oddly portrayed) plotline is related to his Catholic guilt and his nonexistent relationship with Marisol (no last name?). As the episode maybe suggests they don't know their partners well enough.

Shame to Eddie because it's been months in universe like come on man. In Buck's it's literally been a few weeks, and most of the time Tommy spent with Eddie and not with him.

I like them as a couple and find them affordable. I can't quite bring myself to ship them or be as enthusiastic as others and that's okay.

I still admire the relationship they have and won't bash others for enjoying it.

Hell they still have Taylor and Buck enjoyers and maybe even Abby (i assume I haven't met any honestly).

The reason why I'm a bit confused on why Buddie isn't being all that embraced as a vital part of the storyline is because in a way it is.

I think it spurred the writers on to lean into it heavily due to the actors chemistry and portrayal of the relationship.

Now I'm not saying he wouldn't be bi regardless, because he's always been written that way.

His interactions with worm guy, a gay married couple, Carlos (who I've been waiting to say this but I can't hold myself any longer is Latino, shorter than him, brown eyes, dark hair - Eddie lite/he had a bit of a type aka cute guys.)

I clocked him flirting with him with his cute fact spilling as a way of affection because I do it to to people I love. (🤗i love my ADHD rep!) When he saw him look at the girl he became more platonic in his interactions. Then there was Eddie.

And Eddie honestly is the biggest part of the puzzle.

Yes he likes Tommy, and I don't deny he likes strong confident (suspiciously Eddie shaped 😂) guys.

He has always been attracted to strong personalities regardless of gender.

I do think he did pursue him and I think because Tommy is gay he recognized the flirting Buck does with both men and women as that, flirting.

Eddie doesn't count cause he has a whole can of worms he gotta figure out himself.

If Buck had consistent scenes with an out queer man on the show he'd have been at least clocked. (Eddie was kind of in the way with Josh and the Dispatch crew/his gaydar pinged a lil around him)

I've been saying that now that he's canonically bisexual and it's a known fact, you can't deny he's quite literally been flirting with his best friend the entire show (as a coparent??? Idk man they both said they skip steps/impatient 🤷🏾‍♀️).

When new fans watch it it's obvious, when older fans recall it it's either enlightening or redefining that relationship regardless.

The red flags that are coming up is Eddie's statement of moving too fast and Buck literally moving to fast with his second date (i assume idk how in world time works it's a tv show 🤷🏾‍♀️) being his sister's wedding.

Realistically I know you only invite people to events like that if you're fully committed to each other for a long term thing.

I'm not saying that he's on his wheel but in a way I'm tilting my head at some similarities of Tommy and his past relationships and Buck's tendencies.

Buck will be Buck.

Tommy knows him as Evan, and calls him such.

Which didn't get me wrong cute or whatever but rubs me there wrong away, because we know he prefers Buck as it's his chosen name for a reason. It's defined him and been contextualized and even accepted by his parents.

I believe in calling people the name they choose to be called and I just don't like when that's ignored.

It also doesn't help that he continues to call him that in an episode called You don't know me (you can Even tie it in to Marisol No last name) that deals with identities and lack of knowledge.

Buck has spent most of his remaining twenties with that identity and has defended it so the casualness of him calling him that unnerves me.

It's meant to close the distance and be portrayed as romantic but it can also be interpreted as him seeing Evan, not Buck when with him.

But I did see a post that changed my perspective on calling a name with love instead can recontextualize the meaning of it and I found that sweet and fitting. In that case I can swing either way about it.

If it does make him more accepting of that side of his identity that's great that he's beginning to heal from a path when his name/personhood was used as a weapon or item.

But, I also still feel a bit iffy that it's not interchangeably used with Buck because his family and everyone he knows calls him that. Even his previous romantic partners did and I didn't mind him being called it but I would like it if both names would be used as that is the new part of him where Evan exists as well.

Also narratively they spent too much time on defining his name and what it means to him and everyone around him to not show the importance of his identity being acknowledged in a new unfamiliar relationship.

(whew i think I'm just mad at the writers or this may just be on purpose who knows 🤷🏾‍♀️)

I'm getting to the meta I promise I'm just finally processing what's been plaguing me about this relationship and i gotta let the monster out

That would also explain why he doesn't know the ADHD rants that Buck blabs on about.

But then again the episode is called you don't know me and they weren't even friends he just jumped into a relationship.

(ps you can just start dating someone and learn as you go I'm just saying 🤷🏾‍♀️)

The biggest problem with their relationship is that he's in love with his best friend.

He literally only began to open up and flirt when he realized that he wasn't a romantic threat to his family.

(Which trifling Buck! Your man can't get wined and dined?? He deserves love too!/j)

He literally relaxed/his shoulders open up when Tommy assures him that his son still loves and idolizes him and that Eddie still likes him and he's irreplaceable in his life.

After that's secured he begins to make his move and become more flirtatious (cough sexually open cough) to this confident man in his kitchen in the dim lights and glowy atmosphere.

Damn I'd kiss him too 🤷🏾‍♀️ (if I was a guy ofc)

I also didn't like the parallels of Buck being left (which has happened with his female love interests) and then Buck still having to reach out.

I don't think Tommy is bad for Buck, but I'm still not convinced that he's 100% good. But then again he's been here literally a two episodes and barely any screentime.

And the one he does makes it seem like he's interested but not too invested.

(which makes sense and I will elaborate a bit later in the meta speculation)

The Tommy that everyone is talking about exists solely in fan spaces and head canon and that's why I think I can't get into it. The facts of him are plain in the show but in the fan spaces he has a different image.

Which valid, once again he's almost a blank sheet of what we wish a Buck gets and deserves in a love interest but that's what he is as of now. A blank-ish sheet. Kind of like a projection sheet for movies.

Tommy seems like a caring partner and sure of himself. He's shown himself to be funny, considerate, and as unhinged as the rest of the 118 (ah the fruity fire badasses).

Also i wanna point your Buck likes em a lil older sometimes haha

But back on topic, I can see Tommy being like Natalia (which makes sense as that storyline could've been used) In the fact that he sees that the space in his life is occupied and respectfully backs out.

My meta for 7.06 is this.

Tommy helps out somehow. Buck is ecstatic rightfully so.

They kiss dance and are cute.

The family is very welcoming, the 118 is still loving, but then he sees something that affirms his suspicions.

It's a normal scene for us.

Either Buck is taking care of Chris and then talks to Eddie.

He sees the look in Buck's eyes and the fondness there. He looks at Eddie and sees the same on his face.

He notices how they work together and laugh, them at the family and life he's built all around him, and decides he can't be apart of this. There's no space for him.

It feels too real too fast and he'll only end to heartbroken because he's just interested, not invested yet.

So he gracefully bows out and let's him know that he has enough love in his life if he'd just look for it.

(i also found out he used the word interested in the cafe scene where i recognized it as the ana date. Also Buck was wearing a white patterned shirt and i had a heart attack because it wasn't great the last time he wore it 😬)

Then it leads into ghost of a second chance.

(now imma say this i will be posting more specs about the these episodes I'm just on my buddie storyline juice rn)

This is now Buck trying to salvage/figure out what went wrong and maybe try to contact him again.

In the case of Marisol it's safe to assume they break up, the reason why isn't clear.

It could be related to his sisters disapproval of their relationship (as they're supposed to be coming out did the show forget??) or apprehension towards her as they've been raised/watched him grow up.

They know what makes him happy.

For ghost a second chance I didn't have much buddie assumptions but I'm pretty sure that one is more in relation to other members of the cast most likely and maybe Buck trying to salvage his relationship.

7.08-10 isn't complete so who knows🤷🏾‍♀️ how they must switch it up for more drama?

But I will say, we gotta dive into the Eddie of it all.

Y'all thought I forgot about him?

The bi Buck storyline isn't complete without Eddie either romantically or platonically.

In real life their queer storylines were always interchangeable and they're both feeling out the GA and fans reaction.

Buddie not going canon doesn't make sense because realistically it's one of the biggest ships and the most talked about things for the online fans.

It's a good reason many fans started (me included🙋🏾‍♀️) and stay (if the beautiful found family didn't hit it for them).

The way that they were both discussed and Ryan is fine with Buddie still kind of matches his character honestly. Demi Eddie is a head canon and honestly Eddie would only be comfortable with dating a man at this stage of his life if it's someone he loves already aka Buck.

There could be other reasons but as a Buddie warrior truther (as they named it which is still so insane) as his old interviews alluded to the fact that he loves Buck so much he can't really see himself with another guy he just met like that.

He also maybe wanted a easier storyline as he had always been a bit of a heavy character.

For women it's easier as he's raised to do it and it's "natural" or right for him to do so.

His parents said it, the church says it, God says it so it must be right.

He loves commitment, has said he's a nester and constantly yearns for a family unit.

The only family unit he knows of it feels is acceptable due to his upbringing is man, woman, child.

Not that he's homophobic cause duh, HenRen is literally there, but his standards and pressure doesn't even let him fathom it for himself.

It's also likely if the demi part is true, he's highly unlikely to be like Buck and view others sexually and even realize he's able to have a family/relationship with a man.

I suspect no Buddie this season. I actually hope and pray for it.

Because from both a business and story point it's best to keep the will-they won't-they into season 8 to keep viewers engaged/tuning in and not to rush the story and get some really good emotional moments.

I won't lie I miss the angst we got in the other seasons and as a result the show's identity with Eddie has faltered a bit.

I didn't love episode 5 but I didn't hate it. I still enjoy the show and if they feel a bit unusual it's okay.

There were still some great moments in it.

Eddie's character is now happy but as a result he's also somewhat unfamiliar (that speaks to the whump heavy storylines he has) as he seems less mature. You can argue now that he has a stable support system he's able to let loose because he knows his needs will be covered.

That's also a great point and easy way of showing his development.

His Catholic guilt now that it's been introduced will have to be deconstructed as he will have to redefine his life, what he's looking for/allow himself to be and dare to dream of a life not given to him by someone else or pressure.

This season he's only just started to accept things that make him feel good (which for now is Marisol) and be open and honest about it.

I can argue it is a great sign of improvement of his character.

A bit ooc portrayal yes, but the message of looking deeper still applies.

This can apply to Buddie probably leading through the next half of season 7 by being ramped up and then going full speed ahead season 8.

At the time though since they're still writing they may take a hard right turn and keep it platonic (😭).

But what would be inevitable is Eddie's coming out/self discovery arc that isn't tied to the church or sense of duty.

Which yay! More self discovery I love the message of finding yourself lasts throughout your life and due to life's unexpected events you can change to be a better version of yourself all the time.

We got bi buck (which evidently was influenced by Eddie in some way) now let's free Eddie to even if they didn't do it for Buddie (once again😭😭😭).

Now that I've got it mostly off my chest I'm definitely gonna do an analysis of the parallels and the way it's played pt.2 (and more as seasons passed cause Ryan and Oliver 😘 muah 10/10 no notes).

Okay bye.

[love-too-believe]

Why Namor x Shuri makes sense in terms of story structure

So if we go off context, Nashuri was already planned by the writers, as seen in interviews and the og script. Which isn't surprising because viewers picked up on their chemistry and romantic undertones in the movie already. The only reason this was changed is because they wanted to focus on the theme of grief and dealing with loss. Which has been the main theme for phase 4 in general since we're moving on to new heroes.

Also not sure if people are aware of this but the choice to kill Ramonda was more or less a last minute decision by Ryan. Angela only agreed to it after Ryan brought up how often it is for characters to come back.

So this could mean Ramonda's coming back to life or will continue to make appearances. If she does come back to life this more or less weakens the "but he killed her mom!" Argument.

Now let's talk about Shuri's story and Namor's role in it. Because at the end of the day this is Shuri's story.

Shuri's story in WF is her journey from childhood to adulthood. Tenoch has said this is his favorite thing about her story.

In the beginning she is a girl by the end she is a woman.

The particular kind of story structure Ryan used is called "The Heroine's Journey" a popular method to use in storytelling with female leads.

You'll find similar stories following this method in movies like "Star Wars, Labyrinth, The Hunger Games, The Wizard of Oz etc."

"The Heroine's Journey" is a female version of "The Hero's Journey" which is used for male leads. T'Challa actually goes through his hero's journey during "Civil War" and "BP" so im not suprised Ryan used the female version for his sister.

If you look at the structure of the heroine's journey Shuri pretty much hits all of these.

Distancing herself from her mother, venturing out of Wakanda (both in America and in Talokan) aka leaving the nest, and having her time to shine.

Both the hero and heroine's journies are a method to mature your lead in a way that makes sense and is relatable since hey, we all gotta grow up some times.

Also a subtle thing Ryan incorporated was how both Ramonda and Okoye treat Shuri like she's a child while Namor treats her like an adult, because she is.

Now something that is not always included but is common in both, is the hero or heroine's being presented with sexual incitement, at times for the first time. This signifies them coming into sexual maturity which is why you won't see it in every story or may just get subtle hits of it.

Now if it wasn't obvious Namor is ment to be Shuri's expirence with sexual enticement. Possibly her first encounter since we don't know her history.

And this isn't a "maybe" situation he literally just is. Firstly, this role usually is presented when the hero leaves the nest, not to mention Namor takes up every single trope of this role.

-Invades the hero's space (hut scene)

-whispers to them (again hut scene)

-touches or caresses them (First holding her hand then putting his mother's bracelet on her)

-shows them something new and exciting (Talokan)

-Is usually older then the hero (20s vs 500)

-Often times wears clothing that is either tight fitted or very little clothing (bro is literally walking around in nothing but jewelry and booty shorts)

Secondly, sometimes you'll straight up get subtle hints and/or introductions of sex it's self.

-In Star Wars there's a scene where Leia has to sit on Han's lap and the ship starts bouncing up and down...

-Again, in Star Wars Kylo Ren wipes his mouth which we see has water on it after meeting with Rey through the force...

-With Shuri in Namor, their fight has a weird amount of grappling and holding, not to mention the back scratching...

Namor treats and speaks to Shuri like she's a grown woman. He doesn't handle her with kid gloves like everyone else, he respects her as an adult who can make her own decisions.

In a dark sense even when it comes to either raging war after Ramonda's death or the alliance. He leaves it up to her to decide.

Also Riri, just isn't this to Shuri. This is not to say people can't ship it cause you can ship whatever you want, their all fictional. But Shuri refers to Riri as "a kid", "a child" or "a girl" depending on what translations you watch. This is to show the audience that Shuri does not view Riri as an adult. They're confirmed to have a sisterly bond. Shuri lost a sibling and gained a sibling.

But back to Namor, he also is noticeably kinder to her then he is to literally anyone else in the movie besides his people. Not to mention it's canon that he finds her charming and interesting. He also likes her smile.

It's confirmed by Ryan that he never wanted to kill her even during their fight which some fans noticed, he never tries to kill her even when he has an obvious chance.

And lastly, he sees Shuri as an equal by the end of the movie, showing he has respect for her as a protector of her nation and possibly even views her as a god now but we have to wait and see on that one.

As quoted by Ryan, Namor is ment to be a Peter Pan archetype and when you think about it he really is. He's black and white way of thinking is very childish, he's incredible stubborn, he's arrogant and cocky, yet at the same time, curious and charming. Like Peter he's a father to his people (he literally refers to them as his children) and their sole protector.

There's innocence to his character that's very compelling and shows how young he is in mind.

-he collects (maybe steals, very Killmonger of him) Mayan artifacts from the surface since he never got to see Ancient Maya.

-speaking of collecting things, he even collects random surface world stuff. He has 2 gramophones in his hut, which he most likely got from a ship back in the day.

-he's suprised and charmed by Shuri's kindness. Which makes session since she's the first surface person he's ever spent time with.

-and hey, he got his love of drawing from his mama.

Now what does all this mean for Namor and Shuri in the future? Well for one you got a good amount of back up for them no longer being enemies.

1. Shuri's heroine's journey is over now.

2. Namor was the one who forced her into womanhood.

3. We concluded the story at her finalizing her grief

4. It's canon that Namor was humbled by Shuri after their fight.

5. Wakanda and Talokan will be working with each other.

6. Namor may play a mentor like role with Shuri

7. Dispite many romance scenes being removed they still chose to keep enough hints for people to pick up on.

8. Their fight is described as "intimate" by both writers.

9. Namor and Shuri are described as "two sides of the same coin" and "twin flames" (these are the same descriptions that were used for Rey and Ben Solo in Star Wars)

Why does them having a possible relationship make sense? Well the most basic answer? They're the only two people that can understand what the other is going through.

Their both protectors of great nations that are centered around a resource unique to their land and have a culture and ancestry untouched by colonization. They both know grief of losing people they love. (Namor's mother and his two handmaids, Shuri's brother and mother) Their both EXTREMELY intelligent. (Namor build a vibranium sun underwater and I don't remember where I read it but he learned English in a week.) They both find each other interesting. They both see each other as equals. They both have alot of growing to do.

So will they have some kind of relationship? Most likely. Will it be romantic or platonic? Who knows. But we know they won't be enemies so we have to wait and see.

[taylortruther]

That NYT piece is unhinged, and it will make the Kaylors feel like the New York Times agrees with them. Why can’t they just stan genuinely gay artists, not a woman who has only publicly dated men, and who has said this speculation makes her uncomfortable?

i think it's okay that the ny times wants to post opinion pieces like this - like it or not, taylor's sexual identity is a hot topic and has been one for years now, and the interest around it does speak to our societal concerns!

but i think this article in particular pushes a lot of thoughts that i have to challenge whenever i see them. primarily, that songs about fear or yearning in love are exclusively queer topics, and that a woman couldn't feel specific ways around a man. when it comes to taylor specifically, this article (and many similar ones) neglects to mention that she feels fear and trapped because she's felt hunted (by the media, "hunters with cellphones") every time she leaves the house. she's described men in her life being uncomfortable with her security or being seen with her or associated with her. she explicitly stated multiple times in her music and in miss americana that she found happiness with joe because it was happiness without outside input, and she had to unlearn an entire belief system (that she needed to be good and liked) in order to find security again.

i always understood why queer people saw themselves in her music. because fearing being "found out," needing secrecy, having to hide what you truly mean, is a completely relatable queer experience in a world that is so unfriendly to us. the writer touches on this at the beginning, too, with chely wright saying a huge star would need to come out in order to truly break up the status quo, and by saying that queer readings (even if they're "wrong") are necessary to normalize equality... but i think not diving deeper neglects a critical piece of this discussion. taylor's anxieties about fame and love are necessary to understanding her work, with or without the queer lens.

also, i think it's just glib sexism that makes people think that her tender love songs couldn't be written by a man. i don't know why the author thinks inthaf and hits different can ONLY be about women because nothing in them is gendered. maroon, sure, the line about lips is titillatingly questionable. but some gaylors have also said this about cardigan (men don't dance!), or treacherous (men don't use their hands in sex!), or so it goes (there's definitely not an extremely well-known sex act called a pearl necklace absolutely not) and like... even if taylor was a gold star lesbian, and wrote those songs about women, they still... could easily apply... to one's experiences with men...

idk like i hate this idea that queer people and straight people experience love in completely different ways. YES, societal/historical context changes how we experience the world. but we are still the same species. we still experience heartbreak and yearning and fear and joy and love and peace with people.

[free-boundsoul]

What It Means to be 'Treasure.'

Thank you to @weepingredwillow for the brainrot! Here's a little ficlet of Porter bringing Treasure to the Summit and trying to rub it in Vincent's face that his partner is still human and then Treasure overhears. I usually dont write angst without comfort so this feels weird lol

you can also read it here on Ao3

Treasure never would have imagined that a chance encounter at a bar with a stranger would lead to a night straight up of an erotic novel…complete with the vampire fantasy. And then one night turned into another, and another and it wasn’t just the sex. Porter was so gentle with them, and he listened to them; those silver eyes of his were always on them, like he could see them in a way no one else could. They weren’t the invisible person that was only called upon to be the ride home, or the sounding board or the one to cover the tab. They felt seen with him. He touched them like they were precious, like they were really the ‘treasure’ he called them.

            They never would have imagined that he would invite them to the fanciest party they’d ever been seen, though ‘party’ seemed so inadequate a word with how extravagant this ‘Summit’ thing was. Some of those outfits were out of paintings, Renaissance or Victorian, they weren’t really sure but it was nuts! Not to mention the outfit Porter had gifted them was probably the most expensive thing they’d ever worn, or even owned. They were scared to ask, but they were sure that the gems were real and not costume. He told them that they deserved to wear something that complimented their beauty. He didn’t want them to feel out of place, and being a human among so many vampires…well, they appreciated that at least outwardly, they could fit in.

            Though the worry about fitting in was pushed to the back of their head when Porter had their hand in his, his other on their waist as they moved around the dance floor. His lips grazed against their ear as he whispered to them. Little snippets about the people here, apparently there was strained relations between vampires and shifters, and there was a small group here tonight. Gossip about the ‘stuffy’ old vamps that made them chuckle under their breath. He pointed out the prince of the Solaire clan that was hosting the party, his tone turning sour before it sweetened again. Before they could ask, he was whispering little flirty comments that had their heart stuttering in their chest. Their curiosity forgotten as a heat trailing up their neck to their cheeks and maybe even the tips of their ears with how their vampire was teasing them.

            “I think I’m going to find something to drink, did you want me to get you anything- and don’t say any kind of innuendo…maybe later tonight. If you’re good.” A cool drink should help cool them down, though it seemed like their blood always ran hotter with the vampire around.

            Porter chuckled softly as he leaned in to press his lips to their cheek, just at the corner of their mouth like he was teasing them with the proximity. “Am I ever not good? You’ve never alluded to that before, my dear.”

            “Oh...you’re good all right…in a completely bad way.” Their grin only widened as he let out another chuckle, catching the tips of his fangs before they turned their head the little bit to snag a quick kiss. “So…drinks. What’s your poison?”

            “Surprise me, Treasure. I’m sure I’ll enjoy whatever you bring me,” Porter smiled as he watched them walk away to find refreshments when his gaze landed on familiar silver. At this function, the color was common, only a handful of humans were present. But he would never forget the face of this pair of eyes belonged to. Of course there’s a new pair of silver eyes watching him, and the thought only had his smile turning into a smirk.

            “Porter,” Vincent greeted, his tone professional and almost cold. He was at least trying to be civil, it was too bad Porter was in the mood to pick. There was something about the prince that made him want to poke and prod and bring out the worst he could. Show the old bloods that the ‘golden child’ of the Solaire house was merely gold plated and that there was rust underneath.

            “It’s so good to see you too, Vinnie~ and this must be your lovely partner. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Porter’s smile dropped in a façade of concern as he turned toward the prince’s partner, “I must say I am so terribly sorry. To be Turned in such a way-“

            "Don't you even dare." Vincent's eyes narrowed to menacing slits as he growled in warning, pushing his body in front of his partner like a shield. His teeth were gritted and the air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, though it had nothing to do with the once-Electro Energetic. “Do you have no tact?” he snarled.

            Porter placed his hand against his chest, lowering himself into a half bow that was more mocking than sincere. “Oh, I didn’t mean to stir up any traumatic memories. Truly. I just recently learned about what happened during the Inversion.” He couldn’t help but note how the prince and his progeny both flinched at the mention. The scars from that day still ran deep, even if they wouldn’t voice it.

            “I highly doubt that,” Vincent spat out, his eyes narrowing at him. “You’re just trying to get a reaction out of us.”

            "Would I be that petty, Vincent? I am merely extending my condolences. And confirming what I heard, I would be remiss if I believed another baseless rumor." Porter's smile turned pointed as he met Vincent's glare. "Though I can only imagine how you must feel. All the power you have, my prince, and you couldn't keep your partner safe."

             Vincent's fists clenched at his sides, and he could feel his partner's hand on his back, a calming presence despite the tension in the air. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure, but Porter's words had struck a nerve.

            "You know nothing about what happened, what it was like..." Vincent growled, his voice low and dangerous though it didn't quite manage to mask the pain that resurfaced at the memory. "You have no idea what was lost that day, by everyone."

             Porter chuckled, unfazed by Vincent's anger. "Of course, of course. I only meant to express my sympathies."

             Vincent could feel his partner's hand grip his shirt, a silent plea for him to let it go. He took another deep breath, trying to center himself. He was ready to just turn and go, take his partner away so neither of them would have to listen to Porter’s attempts to rile them up. He was just about to do that when Porter spoke again.

            "But I must ask. Does it eat you up inside? Seeing my partner?" Porter asked, his voice soft but it held a cruel edge. "Seeing that I have what you lost? Do you miss it, Vincent? Having a partner that is soft and warm and alive-“

            “Is that why you brought a human? You wanted to rub it in my face that my partner is a vampire? I’m sorry to disappoint, but I love my partner for who they are, not what. The fact that you found an unempowered human to bring to the Summit just to..to oh…” The fire in Vincent’s eyes dimmed as his gaze went over Porter’s shoulder. Porter noticed how Lovely winced as they looked passed him. His smile dropped when he turned to see Treasure standing there, two glasses of red wine held in their hands.

            Something in his chest clenched when he saw the tears that shone in their eyes, he couldn't believe he'd been too invested in picking at the prince that he hadn't sensed their return. “Treasure…I-”

            “Is it true?” They interrupted, their voice trembling as they met his gaze, the hurt in their eyes pleading him to dispute it. One tear slipped free when he remained silent. “You just brought me here…to taunt him? Was that…was that all I was? Just a tool to dig at someone you don’t like?”

           They hated how their voice shook, the floating feeling they’d had when they walked away was now a sour taste in their mouth. They really should have known better. When something appeared too good to be true…it usually was. They had to stop themself from clenching their hands around the delicate glass they were holding. Cutting themselves on broken glass in a room full of vampires wasn’t a good idea.

           Though the thought did remind them to look away from Porter’s eyes. He’d Tranced them once during their first night together. Then, it’d been exhilarating to be completely at his mercy, but now? The thought that he could just look into their eyes and make them forget this whole thing? Had he done that to them already? Had he altered their memories and just left them with the good ones? Were their memories even true?

           “Treasure-“

           “Don’t. You don’t get to call me that anymore.” They snapped before they snorted, their tone bitter. “Of course you call me that. You always planned on flaunting me. To show me off to try and make someone envious. So, what was your plan after tonight? Wipe my memories and make me forget everything now that you don’t need me? You know, it’s one thing to use someone for a fling. But this is another level of-of fucked up. I thought…I really thought.” They cut themselves off as their voice broke, biting down on their lower lip to stop it from trembling. The extravagant clothes he’d gifted them suddenly felt too tight, too itchy. Or maybe that was just because they felt so dirty now.

          “No! No, I wasn’t going to do that. I-“ Porter’s voice was strained, not the smooth tone he usually adopted. He took a step toward them but the splash of liquid on his face gave him pause. He blinked in shock as wine dripped from his hair, the crimson droplets hitting the marble tiles underfoot.

           Treasure's hands shook as they dropped their arms, though the kept the empty wineglasses in their grasp. It was so tempting to throw them at the man in front of them, to try and cause the same pain they felt. To make him bleed for the way their heart fractured in their chest.  They could feel the tears streaming down their face as they looked at Porter, though they kept their gaze firmly on his chest.

           "How dare you," they hissed, their voice choked with emotion. "How dare you play with my emotions like that. To make me think that you cared about me, only to use me like some cheap toy."

           Porter reached out for them but Treasure stepped back, their eyes filled with anger and hurt. "Don't touch me," they spat out. "I trusted you." They could feel eyes on them, their exchange drawing attention that had their face flushing with more heat than just anger. They bit down on the other words they felt bubbling up, nails biting into their palms as they turned on their heel and strode away from him.

           "Treasure, please, just look at me-" Porter's words died in his throat as Lovely stepped between them. He could feel his hair stand on end from the static that was in the air. Even with the loss of their power from their Turning, strong emotions had a way of drawing on the electro sparks that still lingered in their core and charged through their veins.

           "Back off, Porter," Lovely growled, their eyes flashing with anger. "You've caused enough damage for one night. Let them go." It was a knee jerk reaction to step between them, to protect the human they could see a fragment of themselves in. But they doubted Treasure was latent like they had been. They had no powers to protect themselves with. So, if Porter tried to pull Treasure away, Lovely would stand between them. And with Vincent standing beside them, ready to pounce if Porter made another move closer, they couldn’t find it in themselves to worry.

           "I can't just leave-" Porter tried to argue before Sam's voice cut him off. Porter hadn't even realized that the wolf shifters and their mates had taken a position around Treasure. He knew the wolves had made a business out of security, but he hadn’t expected them to be so quick to step up at a function they were merely guests at. Maybe it had something to do with the way that Sam’s lupine partner was glaring at him, if they’d been Shifted, he could only guess that their hackles would have been standing up and their teeth bared.

          "We will make sure they are safe, Porter. It's best you leave." Sam's voice was low but clear, his tone conveying the seriousness of the situation. But it was the disappointment in the southern drawl that made Porter wince. He wasn’t that close to Sam, but he didn’t hate the ‘surly’ duke. He hadn’t expected the disappointment to sting as it did.

           Porter knew better than to argue, not with so many eyes on him. Not with Vincent and his partner ready to attack if he tried to reach Treasure, and that wasn’t including the four Shifters and the Stealth that were guarding them. Not with a room full of old bloods that were enjoying the free entertainment at his own expense. He nodded curtly, his eyes lingering on the way Treasure's shoulders shook before the Alpha's mate placed a reassuring hand there. He turned on his heel and disappeared into the crowd. He hated the feeling in his chest, like something had been carved out and taken from him. He despised that every step he took felt like a mistake.

           He shouldn't care! Treasure was a fling! They were just someone to have fun with, to indulge with! He'd only known them for a few weeks, and he doubted that the Department would even approve his request to make them an informed unempowered. It was child's play for him to alter their memories to make them forget the magic parts of their time with him, or make them forget him entirely. They weren't supposed to matter.

          So why did Porter feel like he'd just lost something precious? Why did the sight of their eyes welling with tears make him want to pull them close and comfort them? Why did the thought of Vincent, or his partner or the Shaw Pack comforting them make his throat burn with bile? Why did the thought of never hearing their quiet laugh feel him with dread? Why was he already missing the way their eyes sparkled in mischief as they teased him? Why did it feel like someone had reached into his chest and was squeezing his heart?

         Just how was he going to fix this?

[our-aroace-experience]

Hi! I was on the asexual tag saw this blog and just wanted to see if anyone else who is aspec can relate to my ramblings. Rambling tldr: not claiming a label despite that label actually relating to my experiences because it just doesn't fit perfect enough and because it doesn't fit perfect enough in my mind I don't think I want to use it.

Now, back in 2020 I claimed being 'asexual' by name and then a couple of months later claimed being aroflux which eventually changed to 'greyaro' over a year later. And those two terms fit me the best, grey aro ace is me. However, because I'm greyaro I still feel romantic attraction though it is rare but its still present enough in my mind to continually be wondering about what label to put it as. For the most part, I don't have a label even when the attraction - romantic/sensual/alterous/aesthetic - arises. Which again doesn't rise often, but I daydream about it a lot or reminisce about old crushes - particularly the one about a girl way back in high school days. (Let me tell you that was a wild time in my mind). Back then I was thinking I was bisexual only to cancel it out because I didn't want to have sex with her. However I never questioned if I wanted to have sex with boys (I just assumed I would, thanks heteroallonormativity). But the romantic feelings I had for her were the same like the boy crushes (which came up every few years). And for a timeline purposes, before her my last crush (boy) was in the 7th grade, she was the 11th grade, and my last crush currently was senior year of undergrad college (the best one honestly I could actually talk to him and not be overly ridden with anxiety and embarrassment). And despite so many years passing I always wonder - does the bi label fit? Was that with her an bi experience? I know its whatever I feel like it was but also I'm wondering if my hesitation is because deep down having that bi label attached makes the 'im not straight' thought more permanent? If that makes sense? Like 'im not straight' in any way, not even hetero aro/ace? And maybe that thought just makes my head spin a little. I thought about the pan label too; but when I read the definition to see the differences between bi and pan I realized that pan definition doesn't connect the closest but bi does. However I still can't always make it fit. It's like when I was going by aroflux despite the fact it did not fit for me, it was clunky in my brain calling myself that. But then I read about grey-aromantic and it fit perfect! But not my romantic orientation is still in murky waters; I ID as a girl so for the most part of my life boys have been what I've been romantically attracted to, however hetero isn't me. I usually just go as fluid for all my attraction titles which I do like but that opens up more discussion of "okay, but who, what gender?" So in that case I guess bi would be the correct answer...despite the fact gender doesn't play a part (hence fluid label I go with and or queer) but it isn't all genders I fall for, I lean in some directions more than others. So it kind of does, doesn't it? But again I'm like "....meh it just doesn't fit/doesn't fit the way I want." And I am one of those people who agree that you don't have to use every label or any label including micro (for example, aegosexual I can relate to but I don't feel the need to have two microlabels) however, once I start thinking in depth I start to question myself as I do because I'm a thinker. And I think a lot because in real life I'm not in the space where I can speak about this openly with the people in my life.

Wonder if anyone else has had something like this on and off throughout their life too?

Thanks for listening~

you can be bi and greyromantic at the same time, if that helps! but not wanting labels is totally valid and if that feels best then go for it!

[perfect-bi-paradise]

I saw your post saying that bisexuality is the attraction to men, women and nonbinary people (all genders) and it's NOT the attraction to men and women only. I always thought pansexuality was the attraction to men, women and nonbinary people (all genders) and bisexuality was the attraction to men and women only so I'm confused by this post. Does this mean pansexuality is the attraction to men and women only? Did I get them the wrong way round?

The best answer I have to explain this is from my favorite bi page on Facebook and a link to a very good article about bisexual history.

So I wanna start off and say that I understand your confusion. A lot of people I'm sad to say have grown up with a very limited understanding of bisexuality because with the exception of a lucky few, most of us didn't have access to bisexual history or activism and got the bare minimum and narrow description of bisexuality which is the common "attracted to men and woman."

While bisexuals being attracted to men and woman is a technically correct definition since bisexuality does include them, it's not the whole truth and leaves out about 99% of the entire story. What people think that pansexuality is, is in truth what bisexuality has always been.

When it comes to there being a "difference" between bi and pan, honestly there really is no difference between Bi or Pan that many bisexuals cis, trans, and nonbinary alike have pointed out, doesn't end up relying on biphobia, transphobia, bi-erasure of bisexual history or just a lot of misinformation.

The whole reason pansexuality even became popular is because a 2002 Live Journal post by a teenager who also had no knowledge of bisexuality or it's history, said bisexuality was transphobic and only included cis men & woman which ended up spreading biphobia, and transphobia from there because the overwhelming majority of people just didn't have anyone to say "hey that's wrong, this is what bisexuality is" and set the record straight.

In reality bisexuality has always included and welcomed trans, nonbinary, and gender non conforming people even before we had modern terminology to describe them.

The definition "Regardless of gender" itself was invented by bisexual activists to define bisexuality and the modern bisexual movement that started in the 70's. So regardless of gender is bisexualities real definition.

Many people inappropriately try to use the "bi" prefix to argue what bisexuality should mean, and that is called an etymology fallacy. The "bi" in bisexuality doesn't represent a quantity of genders and never has. It refers to bridging the attraction patterns of homo (same as) and hetero (different from) which covers all regardless of gender because it's not based on gender in the first place. People using etymological fallacies to define bi as binary to justify biphobia is wrong and in the end hurts bisexuals. Though I'm just explaining and in no way accusing anybody of doing so.

Unfortunately since a lie and misinformation spread faster than the truth it's taken 20 years to put the pieces of knowledge of what bisexuality truly means back together that were lost or buried due to bi-erasure.

To quote Bisexual activists Janet Bode who invented the definition of regardless of gender in her book (The Pressure Cooker) : "Being bisexual does not mean having sexual relations with both sexes, but that they are capable of meaningful and intimate involvement with a person regardless of gender" - 1976