#good news guys! there's faggots!

[smilingfriends]

[humiliatemeplesse]

Come here boy. You heard what your mother said, I'm your stepfather but you do everything I say, and I have as much say over what you can do or not do as she does. And I can discipline you at any time. So you little faggot, your mother's all proud of you and thinks it's so brave how you've come out in high school even though you get beaten and bullied, as you should, by all the straight guys every day. I used to bully faggots like you when I was in school. Best days of my life. So get on your knees and kiss my stinking sweaty socked feet. Show your respect for your new father. Man I'm fucking glad you're not my kid, I'd kick you out of my house. Your father must be rolling over in his grave knowing he had a fucking faggot as a son. It's probably lucky for him that he died and doesn't have to live through the shame. C'mon, you can do better than that, kiss my stinking socks like they're one of the hot jocks you fantasize about. Sniff 'em too, I wanna hear and feel deep sniffing. You might as well give 'em a good massage while you're down there, I work hard to keep a nice roof over your head and feed you, you're gonna show your appreciation like this regularly. And in lots of other ways too, but you'll find out about those later as they come along. So for now sniff faggot, sniff my socks like your life depends on it, because I can make it that it very well could. Or at least turn your mom against you so I can kick you out into the street. Show your respect and I might, might, just spare you that. Sniff fag boy, sniff and beg me to spare you that hell.

[johnbrand]

Useful

“Hey bro, are you just about done in there? I gotta finish cleaning up before I head out on my date tonight.”

“Your what?” Joe, a little startled, popped his head out of the bathroom, having just finished styling his own hair. 

“A date.” There was a glimmer of hope lingering in Joe’s roommate’s eyes. Ever since his disastrous breakup with his longtime girlfriend, it had been hard for him to reenter the romance scene, let alone even speak with a girl. Recently, it had felt like his attraction to women had been faltering, the sudden fracture having impacted his sexuality more than he thought. But now, Joe’s roommate felt like he had found someone special, and he was confident enough to take the chance.

Joe took his roommate in for a moment, noticing he was still wrapped in a towel below the waist.

“Are you wearing that to your date with…?”

“Lily.” A warm smile bloomed onto his roommate's face. “And no dude, I’m thinking of fraternity polo and some nice khakis.”

“'Lily'?” Joe questioned, testing the name out. “Sounds like a chick’s name. But you don’t like women, fagster.”

Joe watched as his roommate short-circuited, his brain processing the trigger word. 

“Good, good, that's it, bro,” Joe smirked, watching his roommate’s eyes roll back. “Just focus on me and my words as your head gets fuzzy. Such a good bro. Don’t resist it. No more thoughts, just empty-headed bliss.”

Joe and his roommate had been rooming together for a couple of years now. The two had not been particularly close in college, but coming from the same fraternity they had known each other well enough to grab an apartment together after graduation. Joe had liked his roommate, but eventually he had gotten bored of his roommate's same monotonous routines. “Catch the game?”, “Wanna grab a beer?”, “Hey, sorry if my girl and I were too loud last night, won’t happen again. I promise.” The repetition got to a point where it was too much.

After a while, Joe decided to do something about it. They were both attractive, and yet somehow the guy who had at least two hookups a week was getting less action than the one in a relationship. The one who was too busy to help Joe clean up the apartment the one time he asked. The one who would not even wingman for him as his girlfriend "might consider it cheating." So, Joe decided that the best thing to do was make his roommate useful. And Joe knew that the most useful thing a straight guy could have was a dedicated faggot.

“Hand me your phone,” Joe ordered. Slowly, his hypnotized roommate presented him with the device. Joe already knew the password, so he logged in and navigated himself to the new dating app that had appeared on his roommate’s home screen. At first, he considered this act as a step backwards in his roommate's conversion process, but Joe was pleasantly surprised once he opened Lily’s profile.

“A tranny?” This had been unexpected, but Joe decided to take it as a step in the right direction. He cemented this theory when he realized Lily had not yet undergone any feminizing bottom surgery. Before this had all began, Joe’s roommate had been 100% straight through and through. Not homophobic by most means, but he would not have dated anyone he did not consider “wholly female”. His interest in Lily though meant something had changed, Joe’s hypnosis sessions had been working.

“Be honest with me, fagster,” Joe reapplied the trigger. “Why did you choose this Lily over other girls?”

Joe’s roommate took a moment, “I think I am attracted to women…but I was curious…”

Joe grinned. Curiosity was a great thing. “I think you should explore this curiosity. First, I want you to cease contact with Lily, and no more dating apps. Instead, you will be discovering yourself with me, and only with me. There is a hidden truth inside of you, a lowlife faggot who wants to worship alpha men. Especially the alpha male who will help you realize this. Got all that?”

Joe’s roommate absorbed the information like a sponge. Underneath the towel, Joe could have sworn he saw his roommate’s dick twitch just a bit.

“From now on, when you think about me, I want you to get a little flustered. Maybe even a little boned up. Not all men yet, just me.” Joe paused, before adding, “And from now on, you’ll volunteer to do my laundry. You won’t fully understand why, but you just want to help me out, make my life a little easier. Maybe you even want to just take a sniff or two of my dirty clothing.”

Joe tried to hold back a snigger, watching his roommate’s lifeless eyes install these new commands into his brain. It had taken a lot of work to not only get Joe’s roommate to break up with his girlfriend, but to forget how it happened too. Now, Joe finally felt like progress was happening. He just hoped it would not be too much longer before he had his own personal fag.

[warping-realities]

Online Scam - An OnlyFags Story

Inspired by the concept created by @johnbrand and @boysmentfs

Henry wasn’t having a good day; hell, it wasn’t even a good week or month. He had been stoked for college, ready to hit up new places and live it up, but the truth was that everything was turning into a total shitshow. His roommate was barely tolerable and he hadn’t made a single friend yet. All of this was messing with his head. But what really got to him was being totally broke, not having a dime to his name. His dad sent him a bit of cash, still stuck between being proud of having a son in college and feeling ashamed that son was openly gay. Henry, a name picked by his late mother, who passed down her delicate traits both physically and mentally, knew his dad earned that money busting his ass as a mechanic at a big car shop, and it didn’t come in large amounts, but surely he could send more than the pathetic little sum he was sending. The young man wondered if he’d get more cash if he had a sports scholarship instead of one for his grades.

While hunting for a side gig that could hook him up with some cash, Henry got blindsided by a new message alert on his computer screen. It wasn’t just the message itself; it was who it was from. Larry Thomas was in charge of the more complex systems at the car company where Henry’s dad worked. He was a relatively new hire, and Henry’s dad didn’t get along with the guy at all, with Henry only knowing him from the last company holiday party, since Henry’s dad didn’t want a “degenerate faggot” near his son. The irony of the situation was lost on the old man.

“Hey, kid, I heard your dad telling the guys he cut your funds to force you to man up or whatever. Maybe this will help you scrape together some cash!” the message from the man said, along with a link. Feeling like he had nothing to lose and pissed off at his dad, who he was now sure was punishing him for being gay, Henry clicked the link, which immediately started downloading some kind of app.

“Shit, I hope this ain’t a virus,” he muttered in front of the computer screen.

After loading, a logo popped up at the top: OnlyFags. What the hell was that? Some kind of joke from Larry? Did he team up with Henry’s dad just to humiliate him? Nah, that didn’t make sense; they hated each other. Still, Henry had caught a few looks from Larry directed at his dad that made him think there was some kinda unrequited attraction there… Before he could do anything, a text box popped up asking “Are you a creator or a user?” followed by two more boxes for a username and password. Henry’s computer acted on its own, typing in a sequence so fast he couldn’t read anything that was written or checked. The screen froze for a moment, a spinning circle indicating something was loading, and soon a bunch of boxes appeared on the screen with various profiles.

A massive shock hit Henry with what those profiles showed. He stared in horror and disgust at what they displayed. Mostly dudes between twenty and forty years old with their bodies on full display, playing with pierced nipples, licking feet, or even getting off in plain sight! He moved the mouse, intending to close that crap and delete that app from his computer ASAP.

But fear took over as, instead of shutting down that damn app, the mouse pointer moved on its own to click the profile button in the opposite corner of the screen. The screen loaded again, and there was a profile filled out for him— name, age, height, weight, shoe size, and even dick size. All of it wildly different from reality. A warning popped up quickly: “Your profile picture is outdated! Would you like to take a new one?”

A sudden wave of even greater horror washed over Henry as his hand clicked “yes.” The front camera opened, and his hand set the timer for twenty seconds before propping it against the headboard of the bed, moving to the other side. Almost robotically, he took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor before adjusting his pose for the camera. He moved, trying to get his foot in the shot while flexing one arm, not realizing he’d gained a bunch of pounds of pure muscle and that his delicate size 7 feet had ballooned to a more robust size 10.

Paralyzed and unable to move, he saw a message pop up on the computer screen. “New photo uploaded! Error!!! Photo does not match profile. Correcting parameters!” Scared, he quickly summoned the last bit of willpower he had and tried to get up and shut that app down once and for all, only to be shoved back by an invisible wall, with all the impact you’d expect from a high-speed crash. Dizzy and confused, he felt his face and body go through a sensation of distortion, and suddenly… nothing! The most complete emptiness reigned in his mind. He didn’t know who he was or even his own name. And he stayed like that for several seconds, staring into the inner void.

Until a new notification appeared on the screen, grabbing his attention. “Success! Parameters corrected; new profile picture published!” Immediately, likes started flooding in on his photo and profile, making him focus on the computer screen just as the computer camera turned on again and a live stream began.

He quickly, almost automatically, repositioned himself, flexing one of the powerful arms he’d just acquired. A notification on the app pinged: “New donation from DirtyFaggotMike.”

The app, once again on its own, opened a list of donations from various users with similar and usernames, ranging from small amounts to hundreds of dollars. Henry felt a rush of pride inside him as memories of all the degrading content about that kind of people and the outrageous amounts of cash received for it flooded his mind!

A new comment appeared in at the top of the page with a $100 donation. “Master, your giant hands turn me on; I’d love to be smothered by them.” Henry found himself talking automatically to the screen: “Keep dreaming, faggot. You’re lucky enough to be able to worship them from a distance!” he replied, grinning arrogantly as he admired his own flexed arm.

A part of Henry still intact, lost in the gigantic void that his memories had become, managed to feel mortified; he didn’t want any of those horrible messages to be received by him, let alone responded to that way. That little remaining fraction tried again to regain control, only to be shoved back as the being occupying his body massaged his powerful pecs and spoke laughing arrogantly while getting up: “Where’s my money, you fags? You won’t get shit from me if this account doesn’t start filling up!”

The next message he received was the reply he’d been waiting for—a private message from LickLuckyLarry. “Master Hunter, I’ve been one of your loyal followers for months and I want to pay a good amount to see you jerk off if it’s not too much audacity on my part.”

Henry… Hunter smiled at that message. With a smirk on his face, he replied, “Disgusting faggot. Of course, it’s a hell of a lot of audacity for a worm like you to ask me that! But it’s you pathetic beings that keep my wallet full. I’m willing to accept, but it’ll depend on how much you’re willing to pay for all this!” he replied, grinning wickedly as his hands roamed over his abs and thighs, tentatively close to his cock.

“Master, please,” the guy replied, “I’d do anything to see you work that giant cock until it explodes with your alpha jizz.”

“Great, let’s talk privately; don’t turn on the camera! I don’t wanna see that faggot face of yours, it’ll be hard enough to jerk off knowing a worm like you is watching! And as for the rest of you, take note, faggots, you should all aspire to be like him.”

He leaned forward and closed the live window, before before lying down in his bed and focusing on talking privately in his smartphone with the guy willing to pay to see him play with his own cock. “I said I didn’t wanna see that pathetic face of yours, faggot,” he said upon seeing the man’s face appear on the app chat screen.

“Sorry, Master Hunter, I couldn’t help it; I promise to pay you a much bigger sum, but I wanted to know if you remember me?”

“And why the hell would I remember a pathetic faggot like you?” Hunter asked with a wicked grin.

“Because I work with your dad and… you… you let me suck your cock at the last company holiday party!”

“And? You’re not the first little bitch I’ve let do that! There’s no shame in showing off a bit or even letting one of you kind pay for a blowjob in the absence of something better. And that whore secretary didn’t want to give me any… Anyway, don’t think you’ll get a discount just because you know my old man, and if you try to blackmail me, I’ll use these weapons to smother you in a way way different from what that other faggot wanted!”

“No, Master Hunter… it’s not that… it’s just that you look so much like your dad! You’re a twenty-years-younger copy of him… I… I’ll pay you a bigger sum… but can you refer to yourself as Master Rusty while you jerk off?”

“So you have a fetish for my old man, huh? You sick fuck! But I’m cool with that! Just keep that ugly mug off the screen and don’t you dare talk to me while I do what needs to be done!”

“Thanks, Master Rusty… just one more thing, that mustache you’re growing makes you look even more like your dad… if I may be so bold, I’d say you should keep it.”

“I’ve allowed too much boldness, you worm. Now let’s wrap this up. Camera off,” Hunter said as he laid back on the bed, the camera aimed at him.

“So you want a piece of old Rusty, huh? You little shit?” Hunter teased, while Henry’s little voice tried to fight against the wave of mockery and arrogance filling his mind.

“A new chance to suck that cock? Only in your dreams.” He continued, with vivid memories of orgies with various women and dozens of live streams and videos for desperate gay guys into humiliation flooding his mind.

“You can look and admire, you can worship me from a distance, but this here, this here you’ll never have again pathetic faggot,” he concluded before exploding with a huge load that covered his entire abdomen.

“Thanks for the grand, loser.”

He ended the call and saved a copy of the video showing only the upper part of his body, teasing the release the full presentation for his fans after they donated a good chunk of cash.

As he lay back down, distracted, thinking about the bizarre situation with a coworker of his dad’s and what Old Rusty would think if he found out where the money supporting his son extravagant lifestyle and his monthly allowances was coming from. In that moment of distraction what remained of Henry inside him made one last attempt to surface, somehow managing to miraculously regain a bit of control. Thinking about how to fix this, Henry looked at his body; however, he seemed… normal. His enormous size 15 feet were giving off a potent funk as always. His well-developed calves giving way to tree trunk thighs, while hanging between them was his pride, his massive 10-inch cock, with which he toyed a bit before continuing his investigation. His abs were chiseled like an 8-brick wall, and just above them were the two slabs of flesh that were his pecs. He grabbed his phone and opened the camera, seeing his face; indeed, a near-exact copy of his dad’s face, square and masculine. The overall impression was one of arrogance and disdain, which precisely defined his personality.

He dropped the phone and smiled, satisfied, as he rested his head on his powerful arms. “Damn, Hunter, you’re one hot piece of ass,” he said to himself. “These faggots will never get tired of you,” he concluded, knowing that with a body and a cock like his, money would never be a problem.

Hundreds of miles away from Hunter’s dorm, Larry was finishing up his third or fourth jerk-off session, this time looking at the gif that served as Hunter’s profile picture on the app. That, he thought, was the best decision he’d ever made, seeing the perfect copy of Rusty that Hunter had become, a copy willing to treat him in the degrading way he’d dreamed for months that his dad would do. As he reached orgasm, remembering all the insults and humiliations, he wondered to himself if there was a chance that the son of one of the other coworkers would fall into the same trap; well, it wouldn’t hurt to try, especially if the reward was as delicious as Hunter.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three Four

Okay, nobody does this because they want to be friends.

It smells like new carpet in here. Eddie looks around his new bedroom, all his stuff is there. It’s all neat, orderly. There are curtains hung, the bed is made with new sheets, his books are on the shelf and salvaged records all neat. Even his sweetheart is hung on a shiny new mount on the wall.

“Steve would, he’s a really good guy.”

Billy doesn’t answer, but Eddie can feel the look he has on his face. Well. If Billy had a face at the moment – well. It’s kind of complicated.

Eddie sets out his meds in a neat line on the dresser – only a few more days to go and he’ll be free of those too. He can hear Steve rattling around in the kitchen and heads down the hall to check on him. He’s putting something in the oven, “it’s jut a casserole thing, but there’ll be enough left over for Wayne and I figured you’d probably want to eat and get some rest?”

“Yeah, sounds...really good. Thanks, Steve. I really like, appreciate you doing all this, my room, bringing my stuff, visiting, the ride from the hospital, you know, all of it. I just...had to say it, it means a lot, you know.”

Steve smiles at him, twisting the towel he’s holding into a long rope, “I...it’s no problem.”

You’re doing that thing again. The staring at each other thing again.

No we’re not.

You literally are – and by the way he just looked at your mouth.

Eddie huffs a laugh, can’t help it really, and Steve does the same and looks away and...okay. Steve is blushing. Even Eddie can see that.

“Stay for dinner?”

“I made it for you and Wayne -”

Eddie shrugs, “there’ll be enough, maybe we can add something to it?”

“Okay I’ll – yeah. I’ll see if there’s anything in the-”

“I can help-”

“You should sit, you should be resting-”

This is painful.

“You’re a guest.”

“Eddie,” Steve stands with his hands on his hips, Eddie raises his hands in surrender, but goes to sit at the table so he can still see Steve.

“So...you watched the game with Wayne?”

“Oh, yeah, it was pretty good.”

Ask him how it went and I guarantee you I can get him to kiss you by bed time.

Eddie feels his face flame, knows he’s flushed red, tries to hide it behind his hair as he nearly chokes on his own spit.

“Here, man, don’t die,” and Steve puts a glass of water on the table in front of him, giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze as he does.

Don’t say shit like that.

In his head, Billy is laughing hysterically.

You really think he likes me?

Yeah man, I really think he likes you. You are gay though, right?

Uhm. Yeah.

Well you don’t sound so sure there.

Well I’ve never, you know.

Man I am literally the ghost of a dead dude living in your head, who the fuck am I going to tell?

In the kitchen, Steve starts humming as he peels potatoes.

I’ve never done anything, with anyone. Ever. So pretty sure I am but I’ve never, you know, tested it.

Huh.

Limited options, you know? Also, not exactly the most desirable, you know, reputation, I guess.

Doesn’t seem to be putting Harrington off.

What about you?

What about me?

Well, I mean, say, hypothetically, I kiss a dude...we are kind of cohabiting here, would that...bother you?

Aw, sweetheart, cute of you to ask...Nah, I swing either way. Eddie nearly chokes on his water, and Billy laughs. I mean, not been with a dude since I left Cali, you’re damn right about the limited options thing. But yeah, I’m not fussy, getting off is getting off, and I figure if I can taste your food and feel it when you scratch your ass...Besides, we’re walking around in your body, no ones calling me a faggot, I’m dead.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Sorry, what?”

In the kitchen, Steve is putting potatoes on to boil, Eddie clears his throat, “I said, so tell me about that Pacers game you watched with Wayne?”

Steve smiles, big and bright, “you really want to know?”

Say you could listen to him all day.

“Yeah, if it’s you talking I could...I could listen all day.”

Steve smiles, then sort of looks away and fiddles with his hair before he comes over to the table. If anything Eddie would say he looks suddenly shy.

Bingo.

“Well, they beat the Celtics a couple of days ago, a hundred and sixteen to a hundred and nine, so they were fresh off a fair win and it showed. Absolutely smashed the Nets, a hundred and twenty three to ninety nine. Fleming and Stipanovich both made really decent showings…”

Part Six

[strangersteddierthings]

February 2

rating: T cw: period-typical slurs, mild violence prompt: Love is protection

The punch doesn't land. Michael stands frozen before him, arm raised to swing as they both turn towards the shout on instinct.

Eddie watches in slow motion as Steve Harrington sprints down the alley towards them as if summoned from Eddie's fantasies directly, determination on his face. The world returns to its regular speed as Steve reaches them.

Steve takes hold of Michael's arm at the same time Eddie feels himself stagger back several feet from where the new altercation is happening. It's not a conscious decision to put some space between himself and Michael, he's too busy watching Steve use his momentum to make Michael spin with him, or risk getting his arm broken, to think too much about what his body is doing.

Steve lets go of Michael suddenly, which sends him slamming into the wall of the bar Eddie and he had exited just minutes before.

"Come on!" Steve shouts, suddenly in front of Eddie and grabbing him by the wrist, dragging him down the alley until Eddie gets his feet under him and then they're both running. Steve takes a right, and even though Eddie's van is to the left, he follows. He can come back for the van and might actually prefer to. He doesn't want Michael to see what he drives.

They run a few blocks down before ducking into a different alleyway. It's not necessary, this much distance and the hiding. Michael wouldn't give chase. Eddie knew from experience that they rarely do, the men that don't like hearing no.

"Are you okay?" Steve asks, immediately assessing Eddie for damage. His shoulder kind of smarts from when Michael shoved him against the wall, there's a dull ache from his scalp where his hair had been yanked at, and he thinks if he takes off his jacket there will be a mark on his upper arm where Michael grabbed him when Eddie changed his mind and tried to leave, but physically that's it. Mentally, though?

Mentally, Steve just rescued him from a man that could be his twin, so that's got to be telling. Well, twin is a bit of a stretch. There were no moles dotting Michael like constellations, no signature hair swoop (though hair length was almost a perfect match), and his butt was far too flat but there's no way to deny he was a stand in for who Eddie actually wanted. Michael was even a jock, given what little Eddie and he had spoken about before heading outside to smoke, or so Eddie had thought.

So, all in all, is Eddie okay? No!

"Yeah. Yeah, fine," Eddie says.

"That guy threw you into the wall."

The adrenaline is fading, and shame replaces it. Why is Steve here? How much of what happened did he witness? "And I'm fine. Thanks for the assist, but what are you even doing here?"

Steve frowns at him. "I was- I just, just was checking in on you. You weren't answering the phone and Dustin was-"

"But how are you here!? How long have you been here?" Eddie interrupts, "how did you know where to find me?"

Steve takes a step back, puts a little distance between them. "I just drove around until I saw your van."

Eddie blinks at him. "You drove around Indy, searching for my van. How- what?"

"Yeah! And lucky I did," Steve says, like the idea of searching all of Indianapolis for one van isn't insane. "That guy was gonna kick your ass if I hadn't shown up!"

"He'd of gotten a few good punches in before I got away," Eddie waves off Steve's concern. "Not my first rodeo, Stevie."

"This happens often? Why do you keep coming back!?"

"Why does the faggot keep going to gay bars? Gee, I don't think we'll ever know, Steve," Eddie sneers, defensive for no reason. He hates that he does thing. That he lashes out at people just concerned for his safety. Steve just threw a guy into a wall for daring to try and punch him, why can't he just be grateful?

Steve scowls, "why're you being a dick to me? What the fuck did I do?"

Eddie lets out a sigh, "Nothing you don't usually do."

Steve throws up his hands and marches in a circle, apparently too frustrated for words and Eddie hates how smitten he is. It's adorable. Steve's anger is cute, and that's the problem. That's why he was at that bar, a gay bar, in the first place. To wallow in his unrequited love and maybe get off with a stranger he could pretend was Steve if he squinted and it was dark.

And now the man he is hopelessly in love with has come and saved him, once again; this time from a man who wanted something Eddie wasn't going to give in an alleyway at 3:30 in the afternoon, who didn't take "no" well, and everything had escalated from there.

"What do you want me to say, Steve? Thank you for protecting me? Thank you for always managing to show up exactly when I need you? If so, thank you!"

"Why does it bother you that I care if you're safe or not!"

"Because it's you!" Eddie screams.

Steve's eyes widen and his lips part in shock, a look that morphs into hurt. "I... see. I- let me walk you back to your van and I'll get outta your hair."

Eddie hates that he's hurt Steve, because he's an asshole that lashes out. He knows that whatever conclusion Steve's come to in his mind is wrong. He knows that Steve is blaming himself, trying to find out where he went wrong but he didn't. Eddie did.

"Not yet. Please. If Michael's still there I don't want him to see what car I get into. Y'know. Just in case." Eddie doesn't say it to get sympathy points, but he watches as Steve softens anyway.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course."

They wait in silence, and Eddie hates how tense it feels. But he made this bed.

-

Continued with tomorrow's prompt.

@steddielovemonth @nburkhardt @i-less-than-three-you @afewproblems @skepsiss

[two-wizards-in-a-trench-coat]

anyways when i was a tween i was also a farm boy and lived in a village (i think population 200~300) and there was a guy that was fucking everybody's wife. not an exaggeration & everyone knew

We were fairly new and got invited to a party at his farm and my mother discovered that not only the guy was serial cheating on his wife, he was horrible to her. I'm talking public humiliation, turning all of their 10 children against her, the whole works. AND THEN during the party the guy started hitting on my mother, right in front of me and his wife.

Aside from occasional internalized sexism, my mom is a girl's girl. She was livid, started screaming at the guy and we left the party. I thought we were about to become social pariahs (and we would be. for three months) but things changed quite fast.

My mother, and our sweet old lady neighbour put the lady in contact with another lady that was recently divorced (for the sake of the story she is woodworking lady) hoping that it would help her see separation as a viable option.

It works well, and soon she's moving out of her house to crash at sweet old neighbour's place. I'm not too clear on the details but her absence from the house is quickly noticed, as her children realised how much weight she put on the farm/house compared to their father. On top of that, Their neighbour found out that she was the one making great cheese, not scumbag husband and turns out people forgive you less for fucking everybody's wife if you don't have tasty cheese.

Additionally, living at my neighbour's place meant that recently divorced lady was frequently meeting woodworking lady and my neighbour's son. aka our landlord (the only good one in my lifetime god bless him) . aka the faggiest faggot I've ever met.

Well two months later and woodworking lady is moving in the barn as well, and the two start a woodshop in there as the village's sweet lesbians. They ended up making a wood sign for my mother as thanks for the meet-cute.

We ended up moving out to another country, but when we came back for a visit we were updated that none of the children were talking to their father anymore and that, without too much details, the divorce basically ruined his life since apparently if you have 100+ people attesting to your serial cheating divorce courts are not super kind to you. lol

[angellwingss]

Wasn’t going to go on a big rant but you know what since that other post is gaining traction yeah I think I will. So big long rant under the cut. Lolll

I feel like. A lot of people might tell me ‘it’s not that deep’ but to me it is that deep.

I don’t have a problem with JayVik or it’s shippers like. At all. I just think some of them are à really good demonstration of like. Every bad thing when it comes to fandom ever LMAO.

Once again I am (supposed to be) writing a whole big long essay about this already so I will try and keep this kind of short and sweet and it might be a bit lacking but wtvr.

I think a lot of JayVik fans tend to be white queer people. Someone left a tag on my OG post that said basically ‘my take is I’m a faggot and I don’t have to care about a character if I don’t want to’ and no hate to that person cuz you’re right, but this is exactly the kind of stuff that made me make that first post.

I feel like a lot of white queer people have an issue with seeing outside their own identity? If that makes sense? This is seen time and time again with the way some of them behave when big movements happen online, some have a tendency to centre themselves and whatnot so i think it’s kind of the same thing.

It makes total sense that a queer person would prefer queer ships and would prefer JayVik over MelJay, that is not a crime. But I do think part of that is because they can’t relate/identify with Mel or see themselves in her like they can with Jayce or Viktor.

I hate to also make it about feminism but i think a lot of you guys are super like. Male centred, like just in your attraction which once again, not the issue not a crime. But i think it’s also why CaitVi, which is a canon queer ship, although popular is still not quite as popular as JayVik despite being canon. Women fetishizing gay men in fandom is not something new, which I think might play a small part in it- I’ve seen a lot of people especially back in s1 infantilizing Viktor and acting like he had no agency or independence and that he NEEDS Jayce to take care of him (that’s another thing. Ableism(looks at you with my eyes)) and they also do the same thing with Jayce where they act like he had 0 agency with any decisions he makes and that he’s like a big dumb baby who doesn’t know anything politics. Hey, guys. That’s a grown man.

My main issue isn’t that people prefer JayVik over MelJay it’s just that some shippers demonize Mel to an insane degree, blame her for getting in the way of their ship (this is also happening right now with Maddie- there’s a leak going around saying that she gets with Caitlyn and people are so upset that this character is getting some INSANE hate and I feel like that’s the same thing going on.)

they blame her for ‘stealing’ Jayce etc etc like. Idk. You don’t have to ship MelJay but I wish more people would appreciate Mel just as a character- imo she is super interesting and has a great story but she’s only ever seen and ‘the other woman’. I’ve seen people say she isn’t like, well characterized and that her story entirely revolves around Jayce which. Yeah she’s definitely heavily involved with him in s1 but she’s clearly got a lot more going on than just that and you would know that if you GAF 🗣️🗣️

for just being. Who she is. I think Mel deserves more attention just in the fandom and it’s just frustrating. People making memes about Jayce going insane over Viktor leaving but like. Mel also just got fucking kidnapped guys. His lover has just vanished without a trace why is nobody also talking about that !!!! Why can’t he care about both these people at the same time !!!!!!!

Anyway I’m not nearly well equipped enough to talk more in-depth about like. Any of this but I do think the demonization of Mel and refusal to see her relationship with Jayce as it is can often times be boiled down to racism like straight up. And also things like the fetishization of gay men in fandom and just things like that are sometimes what can lead to female characters- even the well written ones to be shelved and pushed aside in favour of their male counterparts.

Obligatory ‘not all JayVik fans’ obviously a lot of you are awesome, shouldn’t have to say this. If I’m not aiming for you, you shouldn’t be getting shot.

[the-soliloquies-of-sadists]

#379

“Hey Ryan.  I’m hearing all over town that your Pa found out that you are a faggot….  Don’t walk away from me boy!  This ain’t some trap.  I have no problem with you being a sperm burper.  Look, your Pa was going to throw you out of your house.  He was going to come by to pick you up from work and take you to the bus station and leave you with a hundred bucks.  I talked him out of that.  Now get your ass over here.

“Do you recognize me?...  Kinda?  I work for the same company as your Pa.  We don’t interact with each other too much in what we do, maybe once or twice a month.  But today at lunch he was asked by John Gilbert about you, and he got pissed.  He was telling everyone there that he found you giving head to a guy from out of town, and that he was going to kick you out. 

“When everyone sympathized with him and went on their way, I went up to him and told him that I can take help him with his problem.  He looked at me funny… kinda how you are looking at me now.

“Faggot, we may not have interacted other than a glance or two in town or when you would drop in to see your Pa.  I’ve known that you have been sucking dick for a few years now. 

“Oh yeah.  You know that man you were blowing when your Pa saw you?  He’s a good bud of mine.  When Russ comes through town, we usually hang together.  I know he connects with you and has been for a few years.  He tells me all about how he’ll tie you up, sit on your face, and smack you around before pile driving into your cunt.  This visit, he barely had time to say hi to me and to get that infamous blow job from you.

“So yeah, I know about you and your predicament.  Russ was telling me you are a major horndog.  I can easily tell that by the sizeable bulge in your pants, your mouth hanging open, and you can’t stop staring at my chest.  So you like what you see?...

“Of course, you do.  I like that you instinctively address me as ‘Sir.’  Russ also mentioned your natural propensity to submitting to assertive men.  Get closer.  Go on, if you want to touch my chest go ahead. 

“Atta boy.  You are going to see a lot of my chest.  Lick my nipples.  You will find out that my tits are hard wired to my cock.  Oh yeah!  That feels good.  I’m going to train you on how to worship my tits to give me the most pleasure. 

“But first, get out of your work clothes.  I want to see my new toys.  Don’t fucking hesitate.  I waited for everyone to leave; so no one is around.  Don’t make me repeat myself….  Good.  You can expect to be naked back at my farm all the time. 

“Damn, you are big.  Great muscles.  You are definitely one of the cornfed beefy boys around here, not like the nelly fag property I get in Denver or Dallas.  How tall are you?  6’3” and 275 pounds?  Damn boy, how big is that dick?  Eight inches?  Thought so.  Turn around and grab your ankles….  Oooh beautiful beefy ass.  And look at that cunt.  That cunt gets used doesn’t it?

“Besides Russ, who has been in here?...

“Russ can’t be the only one.  There have to be other men to make those lips that puffy.…  You use dildoes?...  I knew it!  You fucking horn dog.  It’s hard to believe that this ass hasn’t been taken by other men, but then again we are six hours from Denver and six from Kansas City and you don’t have a vehicle.

“Stand up.  When I heard your Pa talking shit about you today, I knew I had to own you thinking that you would require a lot of training.  But you seem to have what I’ve been looking for, for a long time. 

“I told your Pa that I would take you off his hands.  As I said, he looked at me kinda strange.  I told him that I would take you to my ranch and he won’t see you again, other than some casual passing by in town.  He was going to tell me to fuck off, until I offered him some cash.  If he took it, he knows he can’t make any waves.  He thought about it and took the money.  I told him that he needs to be gone from his home tomorrow, so we’ll get your shit out of his place.

“Yeah, I bought you.  I don’t have boyfriends or lovers, I have property—always have.  It makes ending the relationship easier when I get bored.  But I think with you, you are going to last a while.  I haven’t had a big beefy bitch boy before. 

“Russ was right, I am going to enjoy using you.  I did talk with him earlier today and asked if I could take you on.  It didn’t feel right not to ask him as he found you first.  He was fine with that as long as he gets to use you when he comes through town.  That’s fine with me.  He told me that you love to eat his ass once he showed you how to do it, that you beg him every time to tongue fuck him.  That’s good because every morning, I set up my morning coffee on my deck.  My property crawls underneath my custom-made rim chair and slurps on my shithole while I begin my day.  And it is a full rimjob, not just licking on the surface.

“Look at your dick, you are leaking more than I have ever seen before by a faggot….  That’s a fucking beautiful sight.  You want all this from me, don’t you?...  Of course you do.  Russ wasn’t giving me the full picture of you.  He says you are a multiple cummer.  I’d like to see that.  In fact, get up in the bed of my truck. 

“Damn, you look good up there.  Step forward.  I want to inspect that cock….  It’s like steel.  This pre-cum of yours is amazing.  Damn!  I completely missed the size of your balls.  They are huge….  You are every inch the bull Russ described.  Let’s get these things drained.

“Over there under that tarp you will find my portable rimseat.  You should also see some wrist and ankle cuffs.  Put the cuffs on first.  You will be secured on the drive home.  All property is treated as cargo….

“Lie down with your head under the rim seat and start jacking off.  Extend your legs to the corners….  A couple D clips and your legs are secure to the truck. 

“I see you jack off left-handed.  Give me your right….  That’s secured too.  After you shoot, I’ll take care of the left.

“OK faggot.  You are the first property I have encountered who hasn’t put up much resistance to becoming owned.  I find that very intriguing. 

“Cum for me.  Shoot it all over your chest.  I want to see the size of your load.  I usually lock up my property’s peckers, but not yours.  I have no desire to do that.  I want that thing used often.  The thing is that I want to know now how fast you recover.

“You are really going to town.  Those balls are flopping all over the place.  Here.  Look up at me.  You look natural under that rim seat.  Normally I prefer property lying behind me for the ass eating, but for now, I want to watch you cum.

“Here comes my shithole.  It is always to be referred to as such.  Sticking your tongue deep inside.  Oh fuck!  Does that feel wonderful.

“Jesus!  You are going to cum already?  Go for it!  Shoot that fucking load!...  Holy shit!...  That’s fucking amazing….  Oh shit, it keeps on cumming. 

“Keep eating my shithole with the same energy you had a minute ago.  Don’t stop eating it until I tell you.  Give me your left hand.  Gonna finish securing you to the truck. 

“Your dick is still dribbling out cum.  When was the last time you came?  …This morning?  And you produced that load.  Jesus Christ.  Normally I put a cock cage on my property, but there is no way I’m going to, or want to, restrain that beast. 

“And those balls!  I also castrate my property and replace what they had with fake balls twice the original size.  Even those fake ones don’t compare to yours.  I may check into augmenting your dick to keep it perpetually hard.  I liked that idea.  I will turn you into a mindless bull.  I’ll take you to Denver or Dallas and watch you destroy fag after fag.

“The one thing I don’t like are your pubes.  You are mostly smooth.  You will look even bigger without that hair.  I’ll have it removed.  Until then….  Pubes yank out so nicely….  Faggot this isn’t going to be all fucking and jacking off for me.  Property needs to know pain.

“It’s been a long time since I have done something new.  When we get home, I’m going to fuck you good.  But that’s after I see your next load and see if it matches this one in size.  That’ll be the lube I use.  After I dump in you, I’ll install you on the dildo machine. 

“Oooh.  Your tongue likes the thought of that.  Do that again.  Oh man!  I’m going to give you an hour to continue to worship my shithole before we head home.  When we get there, I’ll untie you from the truck’s bed. 

“But until then, it’s going to be a nice day.  I’m getting my shithole eaten by my newest property.  I have a fresh bush to yank out one tuft after another to pass the time.  Life doesn’t get any better than this.”

[bottledkriegmen]

ZERO DAY HEADCANONS!! >O<

xoxo @calcyum helped me write some of these go look at his art its so yummy!! literally the loml MWAH

☆ Cal tells white little harmless lies like, all the time. He doesn't mean to, it just happens

⋆ Example, he says he doesn't like ice cream but he can and will absolutely destroy an entire tub of chocolate icecream in a heartbeat

☆ Andre burned the shirt he got called a faggot in the bonfire before Zero Day.

☆ Cal's half Russian, his bio dad lives in the European half of Russia.

☆ They both call Mel, "Mel Bell" or "Melanie Bellanie"

☆ Andre played softball when he was little.

⋆ He quit because he got hit really hard in the head by a bat.

☆ Cal's a total metalhead. He has a ton of diff band tee's, but he's never gone to a concert.

☆ Andre has especially sharp canines!! (Feeding into Dogdre propaganda/j)

☆ Cal is a chronic doodler. If he and Andre are sitting next to eachother and Cal has a pen or sharpie in his grasp, Andres getting a whole SLEEVE of silly little doodles all over his arm.

⋆ he's also a stick n poke master, he's got little tatoos littering his ankles.

☆ Andre is a left handed shooter, right handed writer..... Cal is the opposite.

☆ Andre is a polyglot!! He forgets words in English and has to try to convey what he's trying to say to Cal in literally any other language he can think of. (Never works.)

⋆ This makes him so unbelievably mad.

☆ Cal watched Duckman growing up.

⋆ He introduced it to his siblings and they used to all watch it together!! TRUST!!

☆ Andre watched M*A*S*H growing up...

☆ Cal knows how to play a few diff instruments, other than a guitar and sitar.

⋆ Violin, piano, trumpet, all that good stuff.

☆ There's definitely a few holes in the basement walls of Andre’s house. He'll swear it wasn't him. (It was.)

☆ Cal is very awkward with love in general. He'd be an... okay boyfriend, but he would NOT pay enough attention to his partner because he'd be too busy hanging out with Andre.

☆ Andre 100% grew up on older fashioned values with new fashioned eyes iykwim. He'd treat his partner with the utmost respect, but he'd also have the same problem as Cal. He wouldn't pay much attention to them.

☆ (A personal fave) Cal and Andre have matching dog tags!

⋆ Before their final scene in Zero Day, Cal and Andre decided to switch dog tags with eachother. (fags..)

☆ Andre got a little teddy bear as a birthday present when he was itty bitty, and kept it. He's wayy to embarrassed to show anybody.

⋆ Cal found it one day and Andre nearly lost his shit.

☆ Cal often meows or hums in response when talking to Rachel or Andre when he doesn't feel like actually speaking.

☆ Stealing this from another post (I can't find creds rn i am SO sorry), Cal's siblings absolutely love Andre. He's like their other older brother.

⋆ Andre loves them just the same, he's such a good big brother. :(

☆ Cal's sister paints both Cal's and Andre’s nails, and makes them attend her tea parties with her stuffed animals.

☆ Mel follows Andre around the house wherever he goes. There's literally not a second when she's not behind him.

⋆ She gets jealous of Cal whenever he's too close to Andre.

☆ Andre and Cal share a bed everytime they spend the night with eachother.

⋆ They totally spoon but like hell they'd ever admit that.

these were so fun to write guys ty again ml MWAUGHH

[humiliatemeplesse]

You thought that none of your new frat brothers knew that you were gay. You were wrong. The most sadistic one had you figured out. That first weekend when y'all were getting drunk in the house the more he drank the more intimidating looks he gave you. At one point he kicked off his sneakers and put his socked feet up on the table in front of him, like it was a threat. In the early hours of the morning when the guys were retreating to their rooms he told you to follow him to his room so you two could party more. He had a single room because was a junior. Once you were in there and he closed the door you found yourself being wrestled to the floor and put through a few painful prowrestling moves. Then he dragged you over to the foot of his bed and tied your wrists to it. He called you a fucking faggot and threatened to expose you to the entire house if you didn't do what he said. First you had to kiss and sniff his sweaty, dirty, smelly socked feet as he called you a useless faggot . After about a half an hour of that he moved down to where you were and put his ass in your face and pulled down both his sweatpants and underwear. He made you kiss his ass as he jerked off. After he came he made you lick it off of this hand. He then laid back on the bed and turned off the light, you still tied to the bed with his smelly socked feet in your face. "Massage 'em all night faggot, sniff 'em, even after I fall asleep. I'll wake up if you stop and if I do I'm going to beat your fucking ass homo. You realized then that this frat "brother" was going to make your life a humiliating hell. No chance of leaving because you needed a good frat on your resume when you graduated looking for a job and you were sure he'd out you to everyone on campus if you did leave. You resigned yourself to bring his bitch right then and there

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Bridget x fem!oc

"Hi!" Jennie squeaked out, her hand tightening around Bridgets as they watched Uliana grab their bags and rummage through them, giving Jennie's to Hook to dump onto the ground for cash.

"Hello to you little mouse, how is your friend piggy going?" Bridget stared wide eyed, and Jennie couldn't so much more than wrap her arms around her arm and clutch it to her chest.

"I have no cash! Please don't dump it out...." She trialed off, her eyes trialing down to the ground where the little box laid just under a few papers.

"No!" The hook that replaced James' hand almost hooked into her skin, but she managed to snatch the box and stuff it into her skirt, sitting crouched after rolling to soften her fall.

Dashing back over to Bridget, who stepped back and shielded her, glancing over her shoulder at the two, Hook smirking as he held his hook up to point at Jennie.

"And what might that be eh? Some valuables?" His shark-like eyes followed Jennie as she squeaked and hid her head into Bridget's shoulder, who wrapped her arms around her tighter.

"Stop it Hook, don't let the faggot get too close." Uliana grinned, holding the cash she found in the bags, signalling for him to follow her out of the courtyard.

"Are you okay?" Bridget looked down at Jennie, who looked back wide eyed.

"I should be asking you that, are you alright? I'm sorry I can't protect you-."

"Don't even try it sweets, you're my baby." The princess hugged her tightly, kissing her forehead softly.

"Y-yeah...." Honestly, the blonde couldn't care less about whatever she just said, the box was burning in her pocket as her senses got overwhelmed by Bridget.

"Hey guys, what's up." Ella walked up to them, arching a brow at the leather bag and its contents laying splattered on the ground, Bridget's laying next to it.

"The sky, silly!" Bridget giggled, detaching herself from Jennie to hold onto Ella's hands.

"Nothing much, I'm just gonna- yeah." The girl looked down at her bag, then back at her two friends, who were already wrapped up in talking to each other, and crouched down to get the two bags together again.

"Oh! Thanks Jennie! You're such a sweetheart!" She kissed her cheek, hugging her briefly before she and Ella went away, probably to go do homework in Bridget's dorm.

"I- am." She looked down at her back, shuffling her mary janes closer to each other nervously, the pink rimmed socks seemed so silly now, why would she even think pink would look good on her, she should try Blue, Bridget likes Blue too right? I mean she loves pink but she didn't even blink at her clothes today so-

Jennie shook her head, that was ridiculous, she should change out of these stupid pink things now, why did she spend money on that stupid blouse and skirt.

-

A week later, it was blue, she had found a good light blue vest in the back of her closet, matched with a white skirt and blue socks, her leather mary janes shining in the sunlight once she stepped out, the dark blue ribbon tied around her neck neatly turned into a bow.

"Hi Bridget!" Her wave slowed down as she watched Ella throw an insult to Uliana, guiding Bridget away from them.

She followed them with her eyes, clutching her briefcase, desperately trying to lock eyes with Bridget, her princess.

Her gritted teeth didn't stop her from fleeing once she realised Uliana wasn't distracted anymore, her shoes clicked through the marble halls, rushing to her class, she'll change back during break.

-

"Bridget!" Jennie smiled, her best smile, the only smile she'd ever show Bridget, the others are too ugly, too much teeth, too wide, why would you scrunch your nose? Only Bridget does that right.

"Sweets! Have you met the new transfers?" Jennie had to force herself not to pull a face when she saw they touched her Bridget, she's not yours, shut up.

"I hadn't! How nice to meet other transfers!" Transfer back.

"You transferred too?" The redhead tilted her head, Jennie had to force herself to smile Bridget's smile at them, why would she waste that on some rando's.

"Yeah, I came from Wonderland a bit after Bridget!" The princess in question giggled, grabbing her hand with a smile.

"You missed me so much it's adorable!" Jennie wanted to glare at everyone around her when Bridget hugged her, but at the same time gloat about her kissing her cheek.

"I did...." She 'bashfully' looked down, blushing, more from Bridget being close than actual embarrassment, why would she be embarrassed about the truth? She missed Bridget so much she was going crazy.

"I'm Chloe! You?" Right, the other things.

"I'm Jennie! And who might you be?" Red had been staring with wide eyes for most of the time since she recognised the girl, who had been locked away in the dungeons since forever, looking like she had only been there for a few minutes, and completely crazy.

"Uh- yeah, I'm Red." Why would Bridget ever talk to someone that looked like that.

-

"Jennie?" Why does Ella feel like talking to her, doesn't Bridget give her enough attention for two? Three? Possibly the whole school?

"What's wrong?" I would never say the name of such a dirty obstacle, why would Bridget talk to something like that? So dirty....

"Could you go check up on Bridget for me please? I can't get to her today but she said she isn't feeling too well." Bridget isn't doing well and she told that?! Why would she ever tell her?! Why do I have to hear about it from the cinder girl?

"Of course I will! No worries, I'll go over there with some soup!" She smiled at Ella, who grinned back before leaving her alone to ponder.

"Why would Bridget tell that thing and not me?" She muttered, her pencil digging into her notebook, the point snapping off and flying up a bit, not noticing the two transfers behind her.

Red glanced over at Chloe, who was staring wide eyed at the blonde girl, who was scribbling harshly into her notebook with the left over pencil.

They quickly shook it off when she stood up, stuffing her stuff into her briefcase and turning around to walk away, her blue eyes widening when she noticed them.

She quickly composed herself, standing straight and frowning at them, she didn't feel like trying for some transfers that Bridget barely talks to.

"What." Chloe stepped back a bit, Jennie arching a brow, grimacing slightly.

"Nothing- just wanted to ask you something about Uliana and her gang." Jennie scoffed, leaning back on the table as she stared at the two, unimpressed.

"Is this about the flamingo thing? That was me, I'll deal with it." Red shot Chloe a glare, screaming 'told you so'.

"Right... well they're planning on pranking Bridget back, it won't be very pretty." The switch up was crazy, Jennie's uninterested picking at her nails turned into her rushing off, presumably to Bridget.

-

"Bridget? I got you some soup, heard you weren't doing well!" Jennie smiled, opening the door to her dorm, holding the plate with the soup in one hand and looking over at the sick princess.

"Ella?" The pink haired girl looked up weakly, tilting her head, the cloud of curls moving to cover one side of the pillow.

"No." Fuck! Too cold!

"Oh, I was kinda expecting her to stop by..." Why did she sound so disappointed? Is this why she didn't tell me? Does she like Ella or something?!

"Can I tell you something?" Bridget coughed out once Jennie had helped her sit up, now assisting her in eating her soup, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Mhm, always my princess." The box was burning through her skin, she should just give it to her already, if she kept pushing it back it'll be too late!

"I think I like Ella." Too late.

-

"I'm in here for a reason Red. Now go." The icy glare send her way almost made the 10-year old scream for the guards, but she refrained, inspecting the woman who hadn't changed at all since she'd discovered her.

"Why are you here?"

"Who is your father." Red looked down, and Jennie bit back a smirk, she was living proof someone touched her Bridget, she'll figure it out, she'll be let out soon enough.

"Mom doesn't talk about you-," her eyes widened, " -Who are you?" The woman had fallen silent, her white hair seemed to brighten her skin even more, which already stood out against the black stone.

"I am...." She seemed to think about it, not daring to look away, staring the princess down, her fingers tracing over the folds in her skirt.

"I'm the Queen's, nothing else." Red slowly tilted her head, weird.

-

That soon, happened to be, very soon.

Because now, Jennie was kneeling before the Queen of Hearts, holding her hand to her lips and kissing it softly, staring up at her.

"My Queen." The Queen smirked, pulling her hand back and gesturing for Red to come closer.

"Do you see her, Red? You'll have to find someone like this when you become queen, someone who'll fight for you." The princess slowly nodded, still staring at the bloodied ground of the village that had resisted, and the blood that Jennie had furiously scrubbed at on her face, which had turned into the only scratch she had, in an attempt to get the blood off of her face she just shaved off a bit of her skin.

"Who'll die for you." Red could only watch with wide eyes as her mother held out her hand, the bloodied sword Jennie held got wiped clean on her own palm before she even let it touch the Queen's skin, and she softly placed it down.

"The blood of the grass and ground of the deepest hells can't go up against the comparison of the sun and moon, my love can't touch but won't diminish, won't lessen but can't broaden." The Queen patted her head, tilting it up by her chin.

"Good job sweets." It pained Red to watch Jennie's eyes light up, staring at her mother as if nothing else mattered, which, knowing her, it probably didn't.

"Anything for my queen."

-

"Red! My daughter!" Bridget smiled as she approached her daughter at the ceremony, wrapping her arms around the stiffened girl, who watched with wide eyes as Jennie stalked closer, eyes narrowed and zeroed in on her as if she knew something.

"Where were you?" Her suspicions were waved off by Bridget, who happily giggled and dragged Red away and to her new dorm, which she would be sharing with Chloe.

"Jennie!" Ella called out to the woman, who ignored her, and was planning on walking straight past her, if it wasn't for Bridget stopping and smiling brightly at the fellow queen.

"Our daughters will be sharing a dorm! How exciting is this?!" The way Jennie forced herself to look Ella in the eye gave away her excitement.

"Yes, another Charming." She spat out, Bridget slapping her arm.

"Gods, what happened for you to hate them so!" Jennie couldn't help but smile at her, moving to grab onto her hand, but she had already moved on to grasp Ella's.

“You just have to join us for dinner! It’ll be so fun! We’ll have one final dinner with our families before our daughters leave the nest!” The blonde staggered in her movements when Bridget hadn’t grabbed her hands, but quickly started up again to stand beside the queen with crossed arms.

“Yeah, with the family.” She rolled her eyes, and Bridget sighed, turning and finally grabbing her hands, looking in her eyes.

“Would you mind going back to wonderland to take care of the duties for today? I swear I don’t want you to-!” Jennie had tuned her out, staring blankly at her face.

First I have to share attention with some kid, and after a lifetime of devotion this is what I get? She should be mine, mine to love, mine to cherish, mine to keep, why does she keep teasing me, I just want her to be mine.

Why doesn’t she want to be mine?

[octuscle]

Cursed Ken, part 6: New member of the public order office

Vincent loved his job at the public order office. He was a greasy little employee. A small cog in the big clockwork of politics. But when he wanted to, he could torment and harass people. And as he otherwise had little joy in life, he made the most of this power. Much to the chagrin of those around him.

Vincent had been walking through the new bar for an hour. It was disgusting. In his opinion, gay bars should be banned anyway. But here? Vincent was fully aware that it would become a breeding ground for disease and a hotbed of promiscuity once it opened. But he would find enough reasons to prevent it from opening. Shit, the distance between the bar and the wall was right down to the millimeter. Everything was fine again. Disdainfully, he picked up the doll standing on the shelf between the glasses. That there were even dolls now that represented these perverted faggots. He was about to put the doll back again. But it was gone. Had it fallen off? Never mind, with a bit of luck he would just step on it.

"Okay, then I guess we're through. Everything's fine, congratulations!" Vincent heard himself say. He signed the acceptance on his tablet and sent it to the authorities. The owners of the bar grinned. And Vincent felt dizzy. And then he had to sit down. The last thing he managed to get out was a request for a drink. Someone put a pink martini in front of him.

When Vincent regained consciousness, the bar was dark. Dark apart from a bit of black light and a strobe on the dance floor. Loud music blared through the rooms. It was still early. His wristwatch read 2 p.m., as far as he could tell in the dim light. But the first question was: why was he wearing what was obviously an incredibly expensive Breitling watch? And the second question was: Why was he wearing the watch on such well-tanned and excellently defined forearms?

It was dark around him. But it was obviously already well filled. He could vaguely remember having issued the operating license. But he didn't know why. Had he been drugged? But when and how? And how had the bar filled up within maybe an hour and a half? He had a lot of questions. And no answers.

DAMN IT! Had someone just grabbed his crotch? He pushed the hand away. Away from the smooth material of his trousers. Under which his huge, hard cock felt so good. The latex trousers were so tight that you could see the veins on his cock. And speaking of hard: The muscles under the pants felt damn hard, too. Hard and defined. With a slight groan, Vince ran his hand over the smooth and shiny fabric. There she was again. The hand from the darkness. It didn't run along the inside of his thighs like Vince's own hand, it took the path from his cock up one sixer towards his nipples. Vinc wanted to find it all disgusting. But he found it hot. It made him horny. He moaned loudly. The foreign hand was followed by a tongue. From his hand slowly towards his armpit. Vince imagined how she was about to lick out his smoothly epilated cave while he…. Enough with the gay shit! Vince jumped up. He fended off hands and tongues. He just wanted to get out of here. He was sweating in his latex pants. He had to piss. And everything here disgusted him. He fought his way through the crowd towards the toilet. He still knew where it was from the acceptance test. He also knew that the doors couldn't be locked. But he couldn't pee at a urinal. He was as if he was welded into his pants. How on earth was he supposed to pee like that? He desperately tried to block the door to the cubicle on the one hand and to free his perfect body from this hot material, which showed off all his assets so well, on the other. And again he got a hard-on at the idea of someone else helping him to free his body. Vince stepped back from the door. And immediately a hairy guy in leather chaps seized the opportunity. He freed Vince from his overalls. Vince couldn't hold it in any longer and pissed in the toilet bowl. He was then pushed against the partition wall. And with a loud moan, he was fucked for the first time in his life.

His watch had shown 02:00 instead of 14:00 earlier. It was 06:30 when Vince walked out of the darkroom towards the bar one last time. The new bar was awesome. He had actually been here to dance. But he had been fucked more often than in the whole of the previous week. Yes, his outfit had been inappropriate for that. Next time he would wear something assless.

The last Pink Martini was on the house. Vince thanked the hot bartender with a deep French kiss. He would call in sick today. The job at the public order office sucked anyway. He would look for something new. The world was open to a man like him.

[sidekick-hero]

Life after March '86 is very different from life before.

For one thing, he never almost died before. Nor did he ever have anyone accuse him of murder, never mind murders, as in the plural.

But then again, he didn't have Steve Harrington before either.

Steve is on him as soon as Eddie opens the door to the new, government-funded house on the outskirts of town where he and Wayne now live.

"Whoa, hey, Stevie," he laughs, delighted at the way Steve wraps himself around him like he wants to climb inside Eddie, "it's not even been a day."

Steve kicks the door shut behind them and turns to press Eddie against it. Just before Steve's lips land on his, he whispers, "I know, it felt like an eternity to me too," and kisses him like he can't wait another second.

They make their way over to the couch, mouths never parting, and Steve just about pushes Eddie down before climbing into his lap. He's back to kissing Eddie in seconds and Eddie can't help but laugh again, already breathless from how Steve steals all the air from him. "What's gotten into you?" he says, softening his words by brushing his nose against Steve's.

Steve ducks his head and Eddie sees the rosy color rise in his cheeks. The butterflies in his stomach take flight at the sight.

"I - you just taste good."

Eddie lets out another laugh, loud and carefree, and says, "I thought you hated chocolate mint ice cream?"

Steve's grin is the only warning he gets before Steve's giant hand is on his jaw, holding him still as he licks into his mouth. When he's done, he smacks his lips. "Changed my mind. I love it."

They ruin the blanket on the couch that afternoon, but Eddie thinks he can't be blamed for that. It really felt like an eternity.

Life with Steve is good, but life in Hawkins is not.

It's small things, sometimes. Dirty looks when people pass him on the sidewalk. Whispered conversations behind his back, just loud enough for him to hear.

Other times it's bigger. Like the 35 unanswered job applications, on top of the 17 that came back to him with some kind of rude remarks or even slurs written on them.

The spray paint on the walls of their new house and the broken windows are even worse. So are the slashed tires on his van.

But the last straw is the fucking ambush. They had been playing at the Hideout, one of the few places where people left him alone. Eddie had stepped out for a cigarette between sets when they jumped him. Old buddies of Jason's, jocks who had graduated but still hung around Hawkins.

They were on him before he could scream for help, the first fist hitting his temple, bringing him down to his knees. The blows kept coming after that, his eye (murderer), his mouth (devil worshipper), his jaw (faggot).

The bartender, Phil, saves his life that night when he comes out the back door to take out the trash and finds them kicking at Eddie's helpless body as he lies on the ground with his arms around his head. Phil is a big guy, muscular and tall, and a roar from his massive chest is enough to send them scurrying away like the rats they are.

Phil helps him to his feet and asks if he's hurt. He is, but the shame hurts more than the split lip and black eye ever could.

When Steve sees Eddie's face the next day, he is livid. "Jesus Christ, Eddie! What the hell happened? Tell me who did this. They're fucking dead, I swear I -" Eddie's humorless laughter stops him in his tirade. He sways back as if Eddie had pushed him, his eyes searching Eddie's face and Eddie can see the first flicker of hurt in Steve's eyes.

"You don't get it, do you? Even if you kill one or two, they're like the fucking Hydra. Cut off one head and two more will replace it. It's the town, Stevie, don't you see? This cursed town that's suffocating everything that's," breathing heavily, Eddie wants Steve to listen, to understand what he's trying to say here. "Everything that's different. I don't belong here and they know it. They won't stop until I'm gone, one way or another."

He thought the shame hurt, but it was nothing compared to the look in Steve's eyes. "What are you saying?"

"Steve..."

"No, don't Steve me. Eddie, what are you trying to say?" There are tears in Steve's eyes and his voice is thin. He knows what Eddie is trying to say and wills him not to say it.

Eddie wants so much to close the distance between them, wants to step forward and take Steve in his arms and tell him that it's okay, that he didn't mean it. But it's not, and he does. And so he stays where he is, letting the first tears roll down his cheeks.

"I have to, Steve. I-I can't do this anymore, it's killing me. Every day a little more. And I wish -" I wish it didn't have to be this way. I wish I could ask you to come with me. I wish it was enough to love you.

It's Steve who steps forward, closing the chasm between them, and takes Eddie in his arms. He shushes Eddie softly as he strokes his back, and it is then that Eddie hears his own broken sobs. "I know, shhh, I know."

"I'm so sorry. Steve," his voice breaks at Steve's name and his hands clutch the thin t-shirt Steve is wearing in a white-knuckled grip.

Steve leans back just enough to meet Eddie's eyes and there are tears on his face as well, but for Eddie he still tries to smile. It's the most heartbreaking thing Eddie has ever seen. "It's okay, Eddie. It's okay."

..............................................................................................................................

They make love one last time. It's slow, drawn out, until Eddie doesn't know where he ends and Steve begins.

They don't talk, just hold each other, Steve on top of him, covering every inch of Eddie he can reach, like he wants to crawl inside him. He doesn't pull out when they're finished, just stays inside Eddie as long as their bodies allow.

The next morning, Eddie leaves. It's still dark, but he feels Steve's eyes on him as he silently packs his things.

His hand grips the handle of his door and pulls it open, but before he steps through and out of Steve's life, he turns back to the bed, helpless not to.

The first light of the day streams in through his window and a beam illuminates Steve's broad back, revealing the moles he loves to trace with his tongue. The light makes the brown of his hair look almost golden and he wants nothing more than to drop his bags and crawl back under the covers with Steve. The hazel eyes watching him from beneath the tousled strands of golden brown hair beg him to do just that.

“Goodbye, Stevie.”

The click of the door behind him is almost deafening, the only sound to be heard in the early hours of the dawning day.

..............................................................................................................................

He settles in Chicago when a cousin of Gareth's, looking for a roommate, offers him a place to stay. There is no particular reason. It's not Hawkins, and that's enough for Eddie.

He likes the big city with it's loud noises and louder people. Unapologetic and free, it's what he can finally be here. There is so much going on around him, whole subcultures being born every day, or so it seems. Bands are looking left and right for a guitarist, some even for one who can sing. He auditions, starts playing with some guys (and a girl) who call themselves Dark King's Consort.

Life in Chicago is good, but life without Steve is not.

He misses Steve. Every fucking day. The first few weeks he can't sleep, can't really eat. He sees Steve's face everywhere. Every guy (and, embarrassingly, more than one girl) looks like Steve. When he looks in the mirror, he doesn't recognize the face that looks back at him most days.

It's supposed to get better over time. It never does.

Until one day, six months, two weeks, four days and ten hours after sneaking out of his bedroom with Steve watching him from his bed, he actually sees Steve. The real Steve. In Chicago, on the corner of his street.

He's looking at a piece of paper in his hand, his eyebrows furrowed and his nose adorably scrunched into what Eddie used to call his thinking face. He wants to kiss it.

"What are you doing here?" It comes out accusingly, as if his heart isn't beating so hard it threatens to jump out of his chest and into Steve's hands.

Steve looks up from the paper and his eyes meet Eddie's for the first time in over six months. "Getting my boyfriend back."

Eddie gapes at him, static filling his head, so he says the first thing that comes to mind. "You said it was okay. That I was leaving, I mean."

Steve steps forward and cups Eddie's cheek with his hand, closing the distance between them once again. There's a smile on his lips and Eddie falls in love with him all over again.

"I lied."

[shiftyyyy]

faggot ewww ewwwwwww ewwwww you smell ewww you like jimboooo ewwwwwwwww wwww

ewwwww alfred brown smells 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮 hashtag doll eye hate ewwwww mystery looks like ass i bet he smells and his rotting smelly balls smell like ass cheekz like ewww they’re hanging ewwwww old men balls ewwww i also hate your bunniez they smell like baddd ewwww yuki smells so bad she had shit all over her ewwwwwwwaaaaaaaaaa

OKAY NOW DONT START WITH ME YOU SODAPACK SMELLING FREAK. I KNOW I SMELL LIKE JIMBO AND THATS NOT A BAD THING TO ME ATLEAST. SMELLING LIKE SODAPACK IS TERRIBLE BECAUSE THE AMOUNT OF FRUITINESS THEY PROJECT OUT OF THEIR BODYS WHENEVER THEYRE TOGETHER ITS INTOXICATING. YOU NEED TO WEAR SOME KIND OF GAS MASK TO PROTECT YOURSELF FROM THEIR FUMES. THE NATIONAL WEATHER SERVICE HAD TO MAKE A WHOLE NEW WEATHER WARNING BECAUSE PEOPLE COULDNT BREATHE TO THIS NEW GAS CALLED THE GAY AHH LICE INFECTION, AND YOU ARE THE MAIN REASON WHY IT SPREADS SO MUCH, YOU ARE A THREAT TO THIS WHOLE WORLD. YOU AND BOTH OF THOSE FREAKS ARE GONNA BE SENT TO DEATH ROW BECAUSE THE AWFUL TOXIN WHENEVER YOU GUYS AROUND MAKE PEOPLE PERISH IN MID ARE LIKE THE ASH BABY. YOU ARE WORSE THEN DEAD AURA WITH FLIES.

YOURE HATING ON ALFRED YOU FLYING SON OF A GUN. YOU WONT LIKE IT WHEN I GET MY HANDS ONTO YOU, THAT IS IF I CAN EVEN TOUCH YOUR FRUITY SMELLING AHH. IF I THREW AN AXE AT YOUR HEAD THE BLOOD WOULDNT EVEN BE BLOOD. IT WOULD BE LUCKY DAY FOR A KID WHO WANTS A FRUITY FLIPPING SUNDAE OR SOME CRAP. DONT EVEN START WITH MY WIFE NOW I SWEAR TO GOD. I CAN ASURE YOU HIS BALLS ARE JUST FINE. ATLEAST WITH MY WIFE I CAN GET IT AT NIGHT UNLIKE YOU. IM TIRED OF HEARING BRYCE COMPLAIN THAT YOUR 50 INCH SLONG CANT FIT IN THE TOP OF HIS LITTLE BOTTLE HOLE, “s-sorry babe it’s too big for me!!” TALK ABOUT A STINKY LITTLE LOSER. THE ONLY THING MAKING HIM SCREAM IS THE FACT THAT YOULL NEVER BE ABLE TO FIT IT IN. I TRIED TO PRAY TO KAO TO MAKE YOU GUYS STOP THAT NOT EVEN THE PUREST FORM OF HUMANITY CAN STAND SUCH A FRUITY PEBBLE SKITTLE BURST KOOL AID TUME YUMMIE HAWAIIAN PUNCH SMOOTHIE BLAST SMELLING CREATURES LIKE YOU TWO.

YOU BETTER WATCH WATCH YOUR BACK. I SEE ALL. I KNOW ALL. AND THE FACT YOU THINK ITS OKAY TO TALK ABOUT MY BUNNIES LIKE THAT??? BUNNIES ARE SELF CLEANING, THEY CAN ACTUALLY GET ALL THAT GUNK OFF OF THEM THEMSELV— **CoUgh— COUGH—** OH GOD WHATS THAT SMELL??? OH GOD ITS THE FRUITY SMELLING FREAK THAT CANT DO WHAT MY BUNNIES CAN. I BET YOU SAY THAT THEY STINK BECAUSE YOUR JEALOUS. THEY HAVE WHAT YOU DONT. SO YOU GO AND HATE ON MY BABIES FOR THAT? YOU DONT WANNA SEE ME WHEN IM ANGRY. IM FULL OF PURE HATRED AND DESPISE. IM EVIL. NOW BEFORE YOU GO AND HATE ON ME FOR “SMELLING SO BAD” TAKE A GOOD LOOK AT YOURSELF, GO TO A MIRROR. BUT WATCH OUT YOUR AURA MIGHT SHATTER THE GLASS TILL THERES NOTHING LEFT.

GOOD DAY. 😡

[ballercollective]

Anonvoid dash simulator. Opinions?

#anonvoid #idk #I thought it would be funny

(12 notes)

📍 alt-nmbr-6 Follow

Is it normal to want to kiss your best friend? Am I normal for that

🌌 follow Follow

snake i think we all kno its u atp

📍 alt-nmbr-6

Ignoring that, how in the world did you manage to get the username "follow"??

#Genuine question. #I want to know if you have connections #or if you're lucky #or whatever else.

(3,692 notes)

🥜 peanut-11 Follow

Howdy y'all! How's everyone doin' today? 😊

🥜 peanut-11

Good lord 😟

(19,724 notes)

✏️ afonso Follow

Hi guys!!!! Just wanted to let you know that I'm going to sleep naow hooonk mimimi

🔮 crysta-l-meth Follow

IS OP DEAD?

💽 discdvd Follow

Rest in piece Afonso... :(

🖤 betterhelptherapist Follow

afnzo is litrally aliv bro??? tf???

🔮 crysta-l-meth

You reblogged this months after all this youre kinda late buddy sorryyyyy

#nbr!!!

(20,289 notes)

💄 alt-nmbr-4 Follow

I ahte it here

(3 notes)

🎬 breaking-news-reporter Follow

I miss my darling ROM.. sigh <3

🌌 follow Follow

faggot