#haven't been doing as much as I should like

[doberbutts]

With this latest round of discourse being "trans men shouldn't complain about being kicked out of women's spaces", I felt the urge to write up a relatively long post regarding the topic, as I feel it is a long tangled mess and involves a significant amount of people simply talking past each other.

To begin, what is a woman's space? I ask this, because "women's spaces" often fall under one of three categories: medical services, social services, and social gatherings. Of the three, trans men need access to nearly everything if not everything included within "medical services" and "social services". These things often need to be considered co-ed anyway, but are still considered "for women" and often are labeled things like "women's health" or "women's defense". Social gatherings- things such as book clubs, concerts, festivals, and other similar outings- can have a nuanced and complicated history when it comes to the inclusion, or exclusion, of trans men.

As an example- I am a binary, gay trans man who has not yet been sterilized. If I become pregnant and need to seek out social services, I must do so via my provider's "Women and Babies" department. I am neither of those things, and yet regardless of whether I am completing or terminating the pregnancy, I must label myself a woman in order to receive care. If I wish to have a pap smear, receive birth control, or investigate my chances of ovarian and cervical cancer, I must do so via the "Women's Health Clinic". I am not a woman, but I must label myself as one in order to discuss sterilization options. Many trans men who have had their gender markers changed prior to sterilization have reported difficulty even booking an appointment, as well as difficulty convincing their insurance to pay for this appointment due to a discrepancy with gender markers vs gendered care. Many have discussed the realities of being a pregnant man, whether they remained pregnant until their child was born, or whether they terminated said pregnancy with an abortion.

It should come as no surprise that the statistics for trans men receiving quality gynecological care are abysmal. It should be equally unsurprising to hear how many trans men have died from botched abortions, untreated miscarriages, infections and cancers of the uterus and cervix and ovaries, and complications during pregnancy or birth. We belong in this space, despite it being labeled "for women", and the only thing pushing us out has done is quite literally what's been killing us.

This is, of course, not even taking into account the numbers of trans men who have been forced to become pregnant via their husbands or families as a means to detransition them, and those who have become pregnant as a result of corrective rape. There is a saying among trans men of my age- it isn't "we all know a guy this has happened to", it's "which of us haven't experienced this? who among us doesn't fear this? who will it happen to next?"

Which brings me to my next point: women's social services. As with women's medical care, nearly everything labeled "for women" as a social service must be inclusive to trans men. Shelters for domestic violence survivors, rape crisis centers, self defense classes, family planning, these are all things that honestly should already be co-ed. But, many times, they are exclusively targeted towards women. I understand why, I do. But with trans men being statistically more likely than cis women to experience the need for these services, it seems a cruelty to close their doors to a vulnerable demographic reaching out for help.

Where should trans men in crisis go? Shutting the door to us without addressing the reason we need to access these resources gives us a single ultimatum: detransition, or die. Go back to being a woman, or die knowing the likelihood that a woman's name will adorn your headstone, and "daughter, wife, mother" will be said in your obituary. Much like the medical services, this incomplete answer has lead many trans men to their deaths. Whether by their own hands, or by their attackers'.

But there are other social services out there that perhaps are not as dire. Women's scholarships, colleges, all girls schools. Girl Scouts, women's sport leagues, gym memberships. Trans men don't need access to these, right?

Well... is the trans man in question out? Has he been living as a man, or is he still closeted? Is it safe for him to come out? Does he pass, or has he just bought his first binder and given himself his first buzz cut? Is he living under the control of his parents, or is he able to freely decide for himself the type of person he'd like to be and the type of life he'd like to live?

You see, I was a Girl Scout once. And, if we are to believe to our core that trans men are men even before they know the words "transgender", this means I was a boy in a girl's space. I didn't know that being transgender was an option for me at the point where my troop disbanded, and another leader to replace the first within my local area was not found until after I had aged out.

But also... I was in 7th grade when my troop disbanded. Two years later, I would learn the word "transgender", and suddenly everything would make sense. Two years later, I would come out to my parents and my sisters. To put this into perspective, I graduated high school in 2010. The Boy Scouts officially allowed cisgender girls and transgender people of all genders to join all programs in 2019.

I was not expelled from my Girl Scout troop. My leader simply stopped showing up to meetings, and my troop disbanded to go our separate ways when leadership could not find someone quickly enough to replace her. But... if this had not happened, I would have been a recently out transgender boy in a girl's social service, still wearing push up bras and frilly shirts because that's all my parents would buy me until I became an adult and moved out and had a job with my own money to re-purchase myself a wardrobe. Indistinguishable from any of the others, outside of what went on inside my own mind.

I would not have been accepted into the Boy Scouts, if Girl Scouts had been taken from me as abruptly as it was from a different transgender boy in the same state I was born and raised. Which would have left me with... nothing. Neither. And the only reason I even joined the Girl Scouts was because I had wanted to join the Boy Scouts and the local troop had refused to allow me, because they had labeled me a girl.

I don't believe I'm the one that coined Schrodinger's Gender, but I do reference it often. In this situation, one is both a boy when it hurts, and a girl when it hurts. Even if that gender label changes by the second, the point is to use your gender and your assigned sex to hurt you.

But then, why do these services even have to be gendered to begin with? After all, Boy Scouts just updated to be The Scouts, and has removed (on paper) the insistence on gendering.

Well... I certainly agree that the majority of gendering these services is at this point a concept that needs to be reformed, but I'm unconvinced that we will be able to completely integrate without addressing the reason they were segregated by gender in the first place.

Women's gym memberships are gender segregated for two reasons. Women and girls- and anyone labeled as women and girls, regardless of true identity- are frequently not afforded the same access to resources as cisgender men and boys. Women and girls- and anyone labeled such- are frequently at high risk of predatory sexual behavior and physical violence. Both of these problems are symptoms of a larger system of misogyny at play, and both of these problems directly affect trans men especially those who have not transitioned in a way that makes them pass for cis men.

Regardless of the truth of my identity, the reality is that I was seen as and treated as a girl when it came to physical fitness, and thus barred from the same activities freely offered to the boys. Regardless of the truth of my identity, I have experienced predatory sexual behavior from cis men as young as 8 or 9 years old, continuing past when I came out and began to transition socially.

If the problem is not addressed, cis women cannot re-integrate with cis men. But, additionally, if the problem is not addressed, the choice still remains clear for trans men. Detransition, stay closeted, or go without.

A common complaint of trans men is the invisibility and erasure our demographic faces. It should be easy to see why this happens. The problem of a misogynistic society is one that continues to this day, and without addressing the problem we cannot hope for success in creating a more inclusive space. At the same time, trans men are being pushed out and isolated as they realize they must make a choice.

As for social gatherings, such as a woman's retreat or a woman's music festival? Of course, it may sound odd to say that a trans man should feel welcome there. But the truth of the matter is the majority of the trans men asking for the ability to stay are trans men who have been within that space for years already, prior to coming out, prior to realizing some things about their genders, prior to taking their first steps as men.

I'm pretty good friends with an older butch who told me that I am the first person they ever told that they were a nonbinary man. This person is in their 50s. They're married. But the wife doesn't like it, and they love their wife too much to cause friction in the relationship, so they keep it to themselves, and they keep quiet, and they don't say anything about being transgender, but in their head they aren't a woman. This person is not a woman, by their own insistence. Should this person be forcibly ejected from their local lesbian community, which they and the wife helped form decades ago? Should they divorce their wife, since that would make her not a lesbian anymore?

What harm is it, truly, to allow this person to stay? Social isolation kills people. The trans man suicide statistics are just as abysmal as any of the others I've mentioned here. Forcing someone to burn 20, 30, 40 years of their lives and their friends and their achievements because they are finally living as themselves is a deeply hurtful and isolating experience.

The majority of trans men asking to be included in these spaces are not trans men like me- who never really jived with the idea of womanhood and distanced ourselves as much as possible the moment we saw the opportunity. They are men like my friend, often existing outside of the binary, often with a deep love and appreciation for womanhood despite realizing that perhaps the label does not fit them as well as they once thought. They often have many years of connection, entire lives spent intwined in these spaces.

What good does it do to chase them out? What harm does it to do let them stay?

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Taking Root 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, stalking, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

This AU is called Watcher Anonymous and will include different series for different characters. This is our introduction to Bucky and Leaf.

Summary: a neighbourly connection might be more than chance.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Bucky cracks his neck as he approaches the large windows. He rubs his eyes as he snarls at the sunlight peering back at him. Steve always leaves the curtains open. Always gone before Bucky drags himself out of bed.

He tugs them shut but stays close. It's not noon yet. She'll be out shortly.

He's not much for television. He tried a few TV series, some movies recommended on that chat, but he just can't keep his mind from running. It's why he wakes up late. Most nights, he doesn't even sleep. This is what keeps him enthralled. There's not much plot, but the main character is fascinating.

He swigs from his mug as the city street chugs from down the alleyway between their apartments. Her balcony is slightly lower. The perfect vantage.

Pathetic. That's what he'd call himself if he wasn't him. All those guys on that discord Steve found are that very flavour. But he's not them. They're all weirdo virgins. He's had plenty of women. More than enough. She's just different. Like him.

As if beckoned by his awakening, she appears. Her railing is curtained with ivy, enough that she doesn't think of modesty. He doesn't mind. She comes out wearing a loose sweater that reads SWEET in large caps and a pair of her frilly panties. He likes those ones, they ride up when she bends over to pick up the watering can.

She goes about her usual routine. She checks the leaves, waters the soil, untangles the overgrown stems, and treats the plants with rot or infestations. The cluster of plants takes up most of the space. She's like a little chipmunk among them.

She finishes and takes the can inside. The sliding door gives a generous view of her place. Inside, she lingers at the window ledge and checks the row of cactuses. He admires her devotion to those plants. She'll haven't the big square planters soon. A few of the tomatoes growing up the posts look close to ripe.

He rubs the cleft of his chin and his stubble makes a bristly noise. He backs away at the unnerving idea. It's too much. Too soon.

Fuck that. He's not that weirdo Jensen. He's been tailing his married boss for three years. Now that's fucking desperate. Besides, they all made a pact, as lame as it was. They're going to make their moves. Either do something or get over it.

Right. Finish the coffee and get your ass together, Barnes. He rinses the mug then goes to make himself human again. Show, brush the teeth, untangle your hair, tie it back, no one will know the different, clothes. Alright. It won't be so bad to get out and it'll get Steve off his back about Vitamin D. Funny, the sunlight only makes him feel worse.

He heads off with a cap pulled down low and his hands in his pockets. There's a shop down the way, they have tables outside full of seeds and little pots. And a coffee shop right next door. He could use a second cup. Maybe a third.

He stops by the display of plants on the corner. There's a big red sign marked 'End of Season Clearance.' Better late than never.

The old woman who runs the shop offers him a shallow box to put his purchases in. Some pansies and violets. He doesn't know. The colours are nice, he guesses. She tells him to get a nice long bed for them and he should be able to have a nice bunch before the frost.

He gets his coffee, agitated as he balances his starters in one arm, then heads home. He gets back to the apartment and leaves the box on the table. He doesn't touch them as he paces around. He goes to the window. She reading in her chair, reclined, one leg bent, sweater rumpling to expose a bit of tummy. He narrows his eyes. He reaches for the binoculars nearby. Oh yeah. He shouldn't be so into it but he can see a little bit of hair sticking out the edge of her panties. It makes him chafe in his jeans.

He backs up as his stomach growls. Fine. He eats grilled cheese and canned tomato soup. He's still groggy. He goes to the window again. He stays there until she's gone. The censor will let him know if she comes back out.

Steve gets home. He's in a rush. His bag clatters off the bench as soon as he lets go of it. He huffs and picks it up, scurrying around. Bucky doesn't ask. He's on his way to that volunteer gig. They both know why he's in such a hurry.

"Have fun," Bucky calls out from the sofa.

"Oh, flowers?" Steve pauses as his soles scuff.

"What's it to ya, punk?"

"Nothing. You know I got allergies, right?" He sneezes as if to make the point.

"Sure I do. They're going on the balcony... tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Steve asks. "Why not-- achooo!"

"Cool off," Bucky warns. "I'll cover them up."

"Ugh, I don't got time," Steve mutters. "See ya. Oh, and you probably don't want the cat chewing on those n-n-neith-- achoo!"

"She's off terrorising the mice," Bucky snorts. "Get out of here, Rogers."

The night rolls by slowly. Hours spent with his eyes open. On the couch until his roommate gets back. Then his bed. Back to the living room. Steve gets up to get ready for work at the museum. Bucky puts Alpine on his chest and scratches her chin. Her box needs changing.

The sunlight softens between the curtains as he's left alone. He lets the cat out with him as he angles the box of flowers through the door. He got the big trays too and soil. He'll replant it like she did hers. Or try to. Steve keeps saying the place needs a bit of home to it. Goddamn it, Steve, shut up.

He puts the flowers on the iron table and sighs. He doesn't know where to start. The squeak of a hinge makes him tense. It's hers. He knows it without looking. She yawns and he trembles, fighting not to look down at her. He can hear her sipping from her porcelain mug. Is it the one with the lillies or the roses?

"Are those Blueberry Swirl Pansies? Those are so pretty."

He doesn't move at first. She's talking to him. He knows it. His chest feels like it's full. He pushes away from the rail and checks the little tag then faces her. He gives a small wave.

"That's what it says, yeah."

He leans against the railing and looks up at him, "I love flowers, if you can't tell." She giggles and it's music in his ears. The kind that sticks in his brain and he'll keep hearing over and over.

"No, I can't," he chuckles. "Wouldn't mind a few pointers. Kinda new at this."

"Well, I'd start by keeping the cat out of them," she points and he turns to find Alpine digging in a pot.

"Right," he mutters. "Thanks."

[bloomshroomz]

This seems fun, but I don't think I'll get any asks, so I'm just gonna answer some of the prompts lol

1) What are your genders? Either labels/terms or descriptions :)

I'm male and demiaporagender (100% man and less than 5% aporagender). I'm also xenic/xeno-aligned, but this isn't a separate gender for me; it basically just means certain aspects of my gender are best describe using metaphors.

2) Describe your pronouns. What are they, and why?

My pronouns are he/him. The reason why is pretty simple; I'm a man and he/him pronouns affirm my manhood.

I also hypothetically use some neopronouns (xe/xem, vi/vir, ze/zed, and ip/ips), but people haven't really referred to me this way, so I can't know for sure how I would feel about those pronouns being used on me. I don't really care much about my neopronouns though, and people assume that people who use neopronouns are also fine with they/them pronouns (I'm not), so I don't bother telling people I use those most of the time.

I like neopronouns because they acknowledge the aporagender aspect of my identity without degendering or dehumanizing me. They/them doesn't feel affirming; it just feels like a way to avoid calling me he/him, because that's what often ends up happening. It/its pronouns are hypothetically fine in some circumstances, but are often just used by transphobes as a way to dehumanize and degender me. So that just leaves neopronouns as my explicitly genderqueer pronoun option.

Vi/vir in particular has the added bonus of affirming my manhood, due to "vir" being identical to the Latin vir in spelling and pronunciation. It might be my favorite pronoun set, because it encompasses my full identity—both a man and demiaporagender.

5) Are there any terms under the multigender umbrella that you identify with? (like bigender, trigender, genderfluid, omnigender, multiflux) 6) Do you identify with any umbrella terms that can encompass being multigender, like "trans" or "nonbinary"?

For the most part, I just identify as a man without any other umbrellas or multigender terms. Being demiaporagender is such a small part of who I am it feels mostly unimportant to me, and I'm also aiming towards being stealth in real life, so describing myself as anything other than male is generally counterintuitive to that goal.

However, internally and in certain queer spaces, I consider myself to be somewhere between monogender and bigender. I also use the term genderqueer to describe the fact that my experience with gender is non-normative. I don't identify as binary or nonbinary, because this dichotomy feels irrelevant and inapplicable to me, but will align myself with both categories when I feel that it's relevant.

I'm also trans, as in both transgender and transsexual, but I'm using these terms less and less as time goes by. Partially because I'm trying to be stealth, and partially because cis men aren't expected to call themselves cis in most scenarios, so I don't see why I should call myself trans outside of specific situations.

7) Are your genders more fluid or more static?

I've had a more fluid experience with gender in the past, or at least thought I did, but it has settled into being static. I don't expect that it will change, because it has been consistent for a while now.

8) Are your genders more separate or blended together?

The difference isn't meaningful to me, so either interpretation is fine.

10) Do you have any analogies you use to describe your genders?

This goes back to the xenic aspect of my identity. One way that I describe my gender(s) is through metals and alloys. My gender is primarily one metal (male), with some impurities or alterations. I also compare it to pewter specifically, where my manhood is the tin.

My boyfriend has described my gender as a "rounding error" which honestly is kinda spot on.

11) Describe your ideal gender presentation, or physical form.

My ideal physical form is either strictly male, bigenital with otherwise male sex characteristics, or capable of changing form at will (in regards to sex, species, and any other physical traits). I'm aiming for the second one.

My ideal gender presentation is fluid, but I largely present masculine so as to avoid being perceived as a woman. This might change later on, and I do consider myself a femboy, at least to some extent.

12) Does your gender influence your sexual orientation?

Only in the way that it typically would for a man. As in, my attraction to men is gay, my attraction to women is straight, and my attraction to nonbinary people is complicated, but generally queer. I know that not all bisexual people view their attraction like this, but I do.

I could use words like achillean or romeric, but gay and straight work better. I don't consider my overall orientation gay or straight, because, again, I'm bi/omni. But if I'm talking about how my attraction to specific genders feels, those are the words I'd use.

13) Does your sexual orientation influence your gender(s)? 14) Do you identify with any multigender-specific sexuality labels?

Nope to both of these. I'm just bisexual, omnisexual, and queer. Sometimes I'll call myself gay as well, in a similar vein to queer. And, as mentioned above, I'll sometimes describe my individual gendered attractions as gay, straight, etc. But nothing multigender-specific.

16) What are your plans for medical, social, legal (etc) transition? How far along in your transition would you consider yourself to be?

I'm transitioning in a relatively straightforward and "binary" way for the most part. I'm legally changing my name as soon as possible, as well as my gender/sex marker to M (it's currently F or X depending on the document). Socially, I'm just aiming towards being accepted and perceived as a man.

Medically, I'm currently taking testosterone, and intend to get both top and bottom surgery (vagina preserving metoidioplasty, potentially followed by vagina preserving phalloplasty later on). I'm not sure whether testosterone will be a temporary or unending part of my transition, but I at least want all the permanent effects.

I consider myself to be fairly early into my transition, all things considered, even though I've been out socially for about half a decade, and am taking testosterone. I'm just not even close to done.

17) Have you faced any barriers in transitioning specifically related to your multigender identity or related goals?

It has never been an issue for me, but I also never explicitly identified as multigender when accessing the things I need to transition. When I started testosterone, I specified my pronouns as he/they, and described myself (if I remember correctly) as nonbinary/genderqueer and transmasculine. This is no longer accurate, but still not that far off from how I identify now, and it didn't make it any harder for me to access my HRT. But I also live in a place where HRT is easy to access.

18) Have you ever faced prejudice or hostility due to your multigender identity or related presentation?

I used to identify as a pangender lesbian/lesboy/lesbihet, and I was often either excluded by other lesbians, or had my manhood invalidated or ignored in favor of my womanhood.

I now know that I'm not a lesbian, nor sapphic at all, and I'm also not pangender. But I think there's a very real problem in queer spaces when it comes to the treatment of boygirls. People want to either reduce you to man, or reduce you to woman, but never acknowledge you as both simultaneously, in many cases.

19) When in a situation forcing you into one gender, what do you do? 20) How do you deal with such transmultiphobia, external or internal? Do you use any comforts or affirmations to help?

This isn't really relevant to me, because I voluntarily place myself into the male category with no mention of anything else 99% of the time. Being demiaporagender just isn't that important to me.

22) What multigender-related pride flag do you like the most?

The original bigender flag and its similar redesign are definitely my favorites aesthetically. This isn't just me being biased as a bigender person, either. I don't use either of those flags, because they feel very "boygirl" and inapplicable to my specific bigender experience. But I absolutely love the combination of pink, purple, and blue; those have always been my favorite colors.

I also love the genderfaer flag, when it comes to genderfluid multigender identities specifically. I'm far from genderfaer, but their flag is absolutely gorgeous, and the color symbolism makes sense.

24) Do you do (or have you ever done) anything to express pride, privately or publicly, in your multigender identity?

I had a pangender flag and a genderfluid flag, as well as a demiboy flag (demiboy, for me, was a multigender identity), back when I had identified with any of those terms. I still have those flags put away, but I don't use them, and plan to either sell them or give them away at pride. I have some stickers, pins, and bracelets with those flags as well, and I used to have a bunch of different gender bracelets for my gender shifts each day.

I don't have anything like that now, though. I'm comfortable being just some guy; being multigender is basically just fun gender trivia.

26) Do you have any friends who are multigender?

One of my best friends is genderfluid and uses she/him pronouns.

27) Do you talk about being multigender with other people? 28) Are you open/out about being multigender? 29) Are you open about some parts of your gender identity, but not others?

For the most part, no. It's not that it's a secret necessarily, but I spend my day to day as a man, and have no problems with this. Though I do feel being open about the demiaporagender part of my identity could compromise me being stealth, or respected as a man.

30) What do you wish more people knew about being multigender?

I wish people understood that manhood and womanhood are not mutually exclusive or "opposite" categories. They don't cancel each other out—she/her + he/him ≠ they/them.

"Woman" does not inherently mean "non-man," and "man" does not inherently mean "non-woman."

Multigender people, and especially boygirls, should be able to claim gender-specific labels relevant to one of their genders, without their other genders being used to exclude them from it (e.g. a boygirl should be able to be a lesbian on the basis of their womanhood/genderqueerness, without their manhood barring them from it).

I also wish there was more visibility and acknowledgment of multigender trans women and transfems. Acknowledgment of nonbinary trans women and transfems in general is lacking; a lot of people think of nonbinary identities as a transmasc or AFAB thing.

This isn't relevant to me personally, but I care about it.

Multigender question prompts / ask game!

Basics

1) What are your genders? Either labels/terms or descriptions :) 2) Describe your pronouns. What are they, and why? 3) How long have you known you were multigender? Or, when did you discover each of your genders? 4) When did you first hear about being multigender? 5) Are there any terms under the multigender umbrella that you identify with? (like bigender, trigender, genderfluid, omnigender, multiflux) 6) Do you identify with any umbrella terms that can encompass being multigender, like "trans" or "nonbinary"?

What's It Like For You? 7) Are your genders more fluid or more static? 8) Are your genders more separate or blended together? 9) Do you "hoard" genders or labels? 10) Do you have any analogies you use to describe your genders? 11) Describe your ideal gender presentation, or physical form. 12) Does your gender influence your sexual orientation? 13) Does your sexual orientation influence your gender(s)? 14) Do you identify with any multigender-specific sexuality labels? Getting A Bit Personal Now, Are We

15) Describe your names and their significance to you. 16) What are your plans for medical, social, legal (etc) transition? How far along in your transition would you consider yourself to be? 17) Have you faced any barriers in transitioning specifically related to your multigender identity or related goals? 18) Have you ever faced prejudice or hostility due to your multigender identity or related presentation? 19) When in a situation forcing you into one gender, what do you do? 20) How do you deal with such transmultiphobia, external or internal? Do you use any comforts or affirmations to help?

Pride

21) What are your favorite things about being multigender? 22) What multigender-related pride flag do you like the most? 23) What unique parts about your identity are you proud of? 24) Do you do (or have you ever done) anything to express pride, privately or publicly, in your multigender identity? 25) What's your favorite art/music/writing/etc about being multigender? (Things not explicitly written as such are OK too!)

Community

26) Do you have any friends who are multigender? 27) Do you talk about being multigender with other people? 28) Are you open/out about being multigender? 29) Are you open about some parts of your gender identity, but not others? 30) What do you wish more people knew about being multigender? 31) Free space! Share anything you would like about your multigender experience.

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Feel free to share or repost! You can ask me questions from this list, ask your followers to ask you some, or just reblog and answer some yourself. There are just enough to fit in a month, too, so you could even make it into a daily journal challenge! The possibilities are endless...

[lila-went-missing]

Hiii, saw you wanted some requests for Sevika and I've had this idea bubbling up for a while. Imagine Vika with a reader that's normally experienced, yk has fucked one or two people before and it's not a sex god, and they're growing insecure about sevika never starting intimacy even after months of dating, so they think it's because they're not as good as the girl's she's been with before. Idk just thought that'd be good

I'm kind of obsessed with this, ngl. This isn't the first smut that I've written but it is the first smut that I've posted on here so feedback is always appreciated. Y'all will never guess... it's not proofread. Again. Enjoy my lovelies! X

Warnings: Smut (obviously), mild angst but nothing too horrible, mentions of body image issues but readers body type isn't specified or described.

Fem reader, of course, with female genitalia.

At first, you didn't think anything of it. She probably just wanted to take things slow with you. You weren't as experienced as her so she probably wanted to take her time.

That made sense for a while.

But now, after eight months together, you haven't had sex once. More importantly, she hasn't initiated it.

Realistically, you know that it's fine. There's plenty of reasons as to why nothing has happened so far. But that voice in the back of your head is doing a fantastic job of convincing you otherwise.

Sevika was kind of a sex symbol before you two got together.

She'd been with countless women, she was a regular at Babbettes. Her name was uttered on the streets like a sacred prayer.

You, on the other hand, have only been with two people: your ex, and a drunken one night stand that was less than satisfactory. So you did have sexual experience, but not nearly as much as her.

Honestly, it's starting to worry you.

Did she not like you? Was she not physically attracted to you? Was there something wrong with your body? Were you not showing enough skin?

Thoughts plagued your mind night and day. You were stuck in constant turmoil. It was impossible to stop your own brain once it got going.

It was taking everything in you to focus on the stove and not burn dinner.

You flinch at the sound of the door closing. Heavy footsteps sound through the house, approaching the kitchen.

Sevikas thick arms wrap around your midsection, her face making home in the side of your neck. For a long time, she doesn't say anything. The only sounds come from the meat sizzling in your pan. Moments like this make it easier to not think about the painful lack of aw sex life between you two.

Her lips purse, pressing small kisses against your skin. She hums against your neck.

"What are you cooking doll?" Her voice is muffled against your flesh but you understand her all the same.

"Spaghetti." You feel her smile.

"My favorite.." She mumbles. You hum a small "Mhm" before focusing back on the seasoned beef and water you're waiting for to boil. Her arms tighten ever so slightly, one hand slipping under your shirt. Her thumb caresses your bare skin.

It should be sweet but it really just drives the nail into the coffin for you.

Your voice comes out before you can stop it.

"Why won't you have sex with me?" You regret it the moment it leaves your mouth.

"I- woah, what? Doll what do you mean?" She honestly sounds baffled.

"Forget I said anything, please. It doesn't matter."

Her hands gently grab your shoulders, turning you around.

"No way. What are you talking about?"

You shake your head. "It's stupid.."

"It's not stupid if it's bothering you." She reassures you.

"It's just, we've been together for eight months, and we practically live together. But we haven't done anything. I know you don't have an issue having sex because half the undercity talks about how good you are and I just don't understand. Is there something wrong with me? Am I not appealing to yo-" Your rant is cut off by her lips. Her hands are holding you like glass, one on your cheek, one curled around your hip.

"There is nothing wrong with you." Her voice comes out as a soft whisper. "I'm sorry I made you feel like there was. I just knew that you don't have as much experience as I do. I didn't want you to feel rushed, or forced."

"Rushed? No, you could never.. I thought you just didn't want me that way." She immediately shakes her head. She kisses you again, more urgently this time.

Her hands grab anywhere they can, pulling you in. They're on your hips, waist, groping your ass.

"I do want you." Then they're picking you up and lifting you on the counter. "Let me show you how much I want you?" All you can do is nod as her lips trail down your neck. Her touch dances over your body, removing your top.

Her mouth follows soon after, sucking dark bruises into the skin on your neck and chest. She takes a nipple in her mouth and swirls her tongue around it. A low whimper leaves your mouth at the new, but not unpleasant, sensation.

Her right hand copies her tongue's motions on the other, pinching and pulling. Your body trembles against the counter with need.

She moves away from your breasts, kissing and licking down your stomach to your navel. Her hands unbutton your pants. She looks up at you as she lowers herself to her knees, silently asking for permission. You nod your head. You don't trust your voice. Your pants are off in seconds and thrown somewhere in the kitchen that you'll worry about later.

Her hand splays across your stomach and gently pushes you to lay against the tile. It's cold against your bare and burning skin, your back arching off of it but she keeps your hips pinned down.

You gasp as her teeth nip at the skin of your thigh. A breathy laugh leaves her.

"Shut up.." You mutter.

"Didn't say anything."

Your eyes roll in fake annoyance but you don't get the chance to reply as the cold air hits your bare cunt. Her thumbs pull your lips apart, admiring the sight before her.

"Fuck doll, you're so wet. All of this for me?" Her voice is husky between your legs and it stirs something delicious in your belly.

"Yes, all for you Sev.." She chuckles. Her teeth take the hem of your panties and drag them down your legs. She kisses your hips and navel, sucking hickies and marking you as hers.

"Please, Vika. Need you.." You whine. You can't bring yourself to care about how desperate you sound. You're sure that you look even more so from her position.

It seems, though, that your prayers have been answered because as soon as the words leave your mouth hers is back on you. This time it's between your legs.

She licks a long stripe up your pussy before stopping to suck your clit into her mouth. A loud moan reverberates from your chest as you lean your head back into the counter. Her tongue kitten licks at the bud before suckling on it like shes trying to nurse herself.

You've had people eat you out before but never this well. You don't think it could get better than this.

She moves down, opting to fuck you with her tongue instead. You definitely understand the appeal now. You've given yourself plenty of orgasms but this is the fastest one has risen before.

She feels it in the way you clench around her tongue and moves back to your clit. Her fingers fill up the now empty space, fucking into you in a gently but rough way only she could manage.

She's eating you like a woman starved and with the lack of sex the two of you have had she may as well be. If you didn't know better you might think this is her last meal.

Gasps and whimpers leave your mouth in a desperate way you can't stop.

"Fuck Sev.. ngh~ m'gonna cum, please.."

She smirks against you once more, speeding up her ministrations.

"Come on my tongue baby, make a mess on me." Her voice is muffled against you cunt, vibrations travel through your clit with her words.

You last maybe thirty seconds longer, hand tangled in her hair, before releasing over her tongue.

She laps you up, milking you for all that you're worth. She's never tasted anything more delicious. Her mouth doesn't let up until your whimpering from the overstimulation and pushing her head away.

She looks you in the eye as she sucks her fingers clean before kissing back up your body. Her lips lock onto yours and you can still taste yourself on her tongue. It makes your head spin in a way you've never felt before.

When you come back to earth, her hand is running through your hair.

"I'm sorry I made you believe that I didn't want to do that." She mumbles. "But now I may need it to be a daily thing." You giggle at her words.

"It's okay. I wouldn't mind honestly." She helps you sit up, a large hand cupping your cheek. "You didn't get to cum.." You whisper as you lean in closer.

"Don't worry about me, I'll get my fill later." The look on her face tells you that this isn't over. "I'm going to change out of these clothes. You just worry about dinner okay?" She slips your panties back on along with your shirt.

You nod, sliding off the counter. You wince at the mess you made but she's already wiping it up. Her lips meet your temple as she mutters a low, "I love you."

"I love you more." She shakes her head, chuckling before walking back to her room. You feel much better now, and you really can't wait for what she meant by "later".

[wheels-of-despair]

There's No i In Sickness Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Evil Woman's been sick for a week, but she's finally well enough to reunite with Eddie! Contains: Hug deprivation, a happy reunion, sunshine, fluff. Words: 800ish

"Hello?"

"Dungeon Master, this is Evil Woman, do you copy?"

"Copy, Evil Woman, what's your status, over?" You can hear the smile in his voice over the phone, and you have one to match.

"Evil Woman and Little Drummer Boy have been cleared for contact, and the General's orders are to 'get outside and soak up some dang sunshine', over."

"For real?" he asks, forgetting your little game.

"For real," you confirm.

"On my way!"

Click.

Evil Woman and Little Drummer Boy have been cooped up for a week with some gross seasonal virus, and a nightly phone call with the Dungeon Master wasn't even close to being enough.

But you're free! Your fever is gone and your congestion is on the way out and you're ready to get out of this house and make up for a week's worth of hug deprivation with your Eddie.

You step outside into the perfect spring day, squinting at the brightness of the sun you haven't seen in nearly a week. The rays begin to warm you almost immediately. God, that's wonderful. You sit on the porch and lean your head back, closing your eyes while you soak up the sun and wait for Eddie.

The familiar roar of his van disrupts the silence of the neighborhood in record time. You open your eyes with a grin, seeing him fly around the corner. You're surprised he didn't go up on two wheels. You stand when the van skids to a stop in your driveway, rushing forward, ready for that hug that'll surely fix everything.

Eddie comes bounding around the side of the van, and you barely have time to brace yourself before your bodies collide. You stagger backward, laughing together, trying to catch your balance.

However, the slight incline of your yard works against you, and you both topple over and land in the grass with a yelp.

"You okay?" Eddie asks, looking down on you with his face full of concern and framed by his wild hair. The pictures all over your room don't do him justice. He's so beautiful, you could burst.

"I am now," you smile, reaching up to cup his cheek.

He nuzzles into your touch, closing his eyes briefly. And then he grins wickedly and attacks, kissing his way down your jaw and your neck and back up the other side.

"I! Missed! You! So! Fucking! Much!" he says between kisses. He's melted you. All you can do is lie there in the grass and laugh. You feel drunk. Drunk on love and kisses and Eddie. When he's had his fill, he rolls off of you. You move to your side so you can look at him.

"I missed you too," you whisper.

Looking at him isn't enough. You need to hold him. He seems to have the same idea, because you both inch closer at the same time, wrapping limbs around each other and pulling yourselves closer.

Lying here with him is like a sigh of relief.

There's nothing else. There's you, and there's Eddie, and the faint smell of smoke and his cheap cologne and sweet clover and earth and fresh air. What more could a person need?

"We gotta make out more."

"Oh yeah?" you chuckle into his chest.

"Yup. This week sucked a fat one. From now on, there's no i in sickness."

"How are you gonna take the i out of sickness?" you laugh.

"Your germs are my germs," he explains. "You don't get sick. I don't get sick. WE get sick."

"Eddie, you do not wanna be around me when I'm coughing and hacking and blowing brain matter out of my nose," you chuckle.

"I do, though," he says, nuzzling his nose against your temple. "I want all of you, all the time."

You pull back and lift a hand to feel his forehead.

"You must've--"

"I did not get The Plague," he argues with a roll of his eyes, batting your hand away. "I'm not sick. I just love you and I missed you and I don't wanna ever have to survive a whole damn week without you again."

He loves you so much, he genuinely wants to share germs. You should probably be grossed out by that, but...

"Dammit, Eddie," you sniffle, wiping away a tear. "I just got this stupid nose to where I can breathe out of it again, and you make me cry? Not cool!"

Eddie laughs and pulls you to him again, hugging you tightly there on the warm ground on this perfect spring day.

"What are you guys doing?"

You turn to see a disgruntled Gareth wrapped up in a comforter, glowering on the edge of the porch. Your mom must've finally forced him out of bed. You chuckle and turn back to Eddie, nuzzling your cheek into his chest. He pulls you closer. You sigh happily.

"Playing croquet," you answer.

"Having sex," Eddie says at the same time.

Your bodies shake together in silent laughter.

[yapperblog]

Part 2 of cafe worker!Joost x fem!reader

Part 1

Tags: smut, making out, semi-public, handjob, blowjob.

Explicit RPF below, don't interact if you are not comfortable with that; +18

You feel nervous walking down the same path you always take. Why are you nervous? There was usually a feeling of excitement to unwind, to see the sexy Internet Cafe employee – stifling your giggles who will he scold for breathing too loud this time. But now your palms are sweaty the closer you get to that familiar door.

After your first hookup with Joost, you haven't talked much. You got busy with work, and when you were able to visit the Internet Cafe, he seemed to be busier than usual, new customers keep flooding in. You would catch him for a couple of minutes of casual conversation by his desk, like he hasn't rearranged your guts in this same place. He would also come up to you ask about your day, the first time he did it, it made you blush furiously not having expected it from him. Other than that, you were short with each other and the timing wasn't right. Plus it has been almost a week since your last visit, probably the longest you haven't been in that place. So, all those thoughts piled on top of each other, you were feeling extra anxious to see him.

Today however you were determined to have a proper conversation. You are down to keep it casual, if he doesn't want anything serious, but you need clarity – it has been driving you crazy not knowing what he thinks about that night, does he regret it, does he want anything more?

Once again, you open the door, familiar sounds and smell greeting you, as well as a pair of blue eyes lingering in your direction. Joost smiles at you, as you come over to his desk.

"Hi you." he says, still smiling.

"Hi." It throws you off how cheerful he is, the usual scowl nowhere to be found.

"Haven't seen you in a while." his attention is still fully on you, on a normal fay by that time he was already back to typing on the computer. "Thought you went to the competitors. Maybe some other Internet Cafe has opened up." he tries to joke.

You stare at him silently and burst out laughing, the previous tension and anxiety simmering down. Maybe he is in the same mood to figure things out between you finally.

"I wouldn't dare." you lean in closer over the desk.

"That's right." he doesn't look away, matching your eye contact.

You reach for your purse to get the cash for the computer, but he stops you. "It's on the house today. Loyal customer and all that."

You look shocked at him, "You don't have to do that, but thank you." you mumble, a blush creeping up your cheeks again. He seems really happy to see you again. "All I had to do was the bang the employee? Should have done that sooner." you whisper to him making sure it is only for his ears.

"Shut up." he barks a laugh. "First computer on the second row is yours." he points in the direction of it.

"Wait, how does she get to use it for free?" a customer who just walked in behind you asks.

"None of your business." Joost is back to his usual demeanour, his eyes a reflection of being bored of the customer. "How can I help you?" he asks the guy.

You have finished the most important work you needed to do, looking up at the clock, you notice it is past midnight already, most of the customers went home, there is only you, Joost and a couple sharing a computer on the opposite side.

"Sir?" you call out in Joost's direction. "There is something wrong with this computer, can you check?"

His head immediately turns in your direction. "Um, sure." he walks up to you.

You point at the error which popped up. You know how to fix it yourself, and from the look he gives you, you are sure he knows that too. But plays along, catching up to your game. "Yes, let me check." he moves from standing next to you to reaching over behind you for the mouse and keyboard. His hand is covering the mouse over your hand, his skin feels starching hot on yours. His breath close to your ear, your stomach tightens over the simple close proximity to him.

"You are so good at this." you tell him, your voice innocent.

"Am I?"

"Yeah." you turn to face him, but he already fixed it and straightens up, leaving you so lonely.

"Thank you." your voice is quiet.

You finish the rest of your work and notice the couple has left. After waiting a couple more minutes to check if no one else comes in, you stand up and head towards Joost's desk. He is busy typing away, you linger next to him, when he finally looks up.

"Can we talk?" you ask tentatively.

He looks around the room, noticing it's just you left.

"Sure." he gives you his full attention now. "What happened?"

"Well. Nothing really, but that is the problem." you say not looking at him yet, mindlessly moving the things around at the top of his desk. "I know we don't each other yet, maybe the hookup meant nothing to you." you continue, he tries to interrupt, but you motion for him to wait. "But I would like to get to know you, move things forward. I do care about you more than just random sex, but I can't tell if you feel the same about me. You are kind of hard to read." you finally look up at him. He is looking at you intently, listening carefully to your confession.

The silence falls heavily between you, it weighs on you. Did you read this situation completely wrong, does have want nothing to do with you, before you can spiral any further, you hear his voice. "I also want to get to know you. Sorry if I left you in the unknown, I didn't mean that. I also didn't know if you want anything more. I was also so busy here, I am sorry." he says. "When you didn't come on your usual day, your usual hours-"

"You notice when I usually come here?"

"Ofcourse." he meets your eyes.

"I would love to ask you out on a date." he confesses. "Would- Would you go on a date with me?" he is also nervous, like you. It makes your heart melt.

"Yes."

Joost's gaze softened, his eyes roaming over your face with a mix of tenderness and barely concealed desire. You walk around the desk, his eyes following your every move, he starts to stand up, but you push on his shoulder to keep him sitting down. You stand in between his legs and reach out to fix his hair, brushing the fallen out of place strands. You notice the dark circles under his eyes, he works so much. Your hand slips lower, tracing his cheekbone, his skin warm under your palm. He nuzzles closer to you, his eyes darken, not used to such tender touches, but unable to tear himself away from the way you looked at him.

"Is this okay?" you ask him. So careful, the time feels like it has slowed down between you two. A contrast between how the first time went. "Yes."

You move to sit on his lap, he lets you, wrapping his hand around your waist, settling you in more comfortable, as he shifts under you.

"I really thought I might never see you again." he confesses, his voice barely audible, but you hear him.

Reaching up, you let your fingers graze the stubble on his jaw, caressing his cheek as you hold his gaze. “Kiss me, Joost,” you whisper, your voice a soft, desperate invitation.

Without another word, he closes the distance, his lips finding yours in a gentle, unhurried kiss. There is no urgency, only a steady, deliberate affection that conveys every unspoken emotion he’d held back. His kiss is soft and careful, full of warmth, he is tentative, but you lead him, showing you want him as much.

When he pulls away, his forehead rests against yours, and you both share a quiet, contented breath, wrapped up in the warmth of the moment. But the tenderness only fuels the lingering desire that had simmered between you both, and with a sudden burst of confidence, you grasp the collar of his shirt, pulling him back to you.

This time, the kiss deepened, your lips moving in sync as the restraint melted away, giving way to something more fervent, the Joost who likes to take control shining again. His hands grab your waist even harder, pulling you closer, his fingers splaying against your back. The gentle intimacy turns heated, your mouths exploring, you open your mouth, letting his tongue tease yours. You can feel his breath hitch as your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, he groans against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

You try to pull away, but he chases you leaning in, not ready to separate yet, "Come here" his voice is low, breathless too, as he catches your lips in a kiss again. His hands slid down to the small of your back, then lower, gripping your thighs. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His hands roam over your body, sliding along your curves, his touch sends shivers down your spine, like it's the first time being alone in this room again. However this time you are sure he wants you as much as you want him. You gasp against his mouth, a sound that turns into a soft moan, each sound coming from you pushing him closer to the edge of his composure. His tongue slips past your lips, exploring, tasting. Every brush of his tongue against yours sent a surge of heat pooling between your legs, each movement building the need that pulsed through you.

Joost shifts under you, and you feel his hardness pressing against you, undeniable. Your lips begin to wander, trailing a path from his mouth to his jaw, where you lingered, pressing soft, teasing kisses that made him shudder under your touch. You can feel the subtle stubble against your lips, the warmth radiating from his skin as you move lower, planting slow, lingering kisses along his neck, tasting the faint hint of his cologne mixed with his natural scent. Paying extra attention to the Lola Bunny tattoo on his neck, you hope to become friends with her and see her more often.

Each kiss seems to draw a deeper, ragged breath from him, his chest rising and falling as he leans into every touch, unable to hold back the quiet sounds of pleasure escaping his lips. You find it intoxicating, the sound you are able to pull from him. You let your hands roam freely, exploring the strong lines of his shoulders, fingers tracing down the curves of his chest. His pulse beats beneath your touch, quickening with each passing second. He swallows hard, his breathing growing heavier as you continued, savoring every inch of him.

"You are driving me crazy." he says, as you continue to kiss along his sensitive spot.

"You look so good like this." your words go straight to his dick. "I can't believe I finally get to have you like this."

"Fuck, baby. Don't say shit like this, I might just cum in my pants." he confesses tilting his head back, giving you even more access, closing his eyes, clearly enjoying your actions.

"Maybe I would like that." you let your fingers slide down his torso, tracing every line and curve of his body with deliberate, teasing slowness.

"What? Me cuming my pants?" his opens his eyes to look at you. You look up at him grinning, your hand finally reaches the waistband of his boxers, and you press your palm against him. "You are evil."

"You don't like that?" you remove your hand from him.

"Nonono." he repeats, putting your hand back right where it was. "I do." his breath hitches, a deep, guttural sound escaping his throat as he instinctively pushes into your touch, his fingers digging into your waist.

"I am enjoying myself too." you murmur, palming him gently, feeling his arousal grow beneath your hand, hardening with each brush of your fingers. “I’ve wanted this for so long, Joost. I wanted to know how you’d feel like this,” you admit, voice a mix of admiration and desire.

His hands roam your back, pulling you closer, his breathing growing heavier as he looses himself in every touch, every word you murmur against him. "More, please." he pleads, looking in the direction of the door. The cafe is still open to the public. It has been a quieter night than usual, but there is still a possibility someone might stumble in, but he is ready for the gamble, knowing you are too.

"God… that feels so good,” he gasps, as he looks, his expression a mixture of awe and arousal. His hands roam up and down your back, and you can feel the effect of every touch, every word, as his breathing grows heavier. "You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his voice rough as he presses a kiss to your temple, his words urge you to move your hand around his cock faster, encouraging every word. “Been wanting this… wanting you… for so damn long.” He buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin as he speaks, his voice shaky, every word spilling out in a way that only fueled the fire between you.

"Seeing that guy ask you out,” he murmurs, his lips brushing the sensitive skin just below your ear, “it drove me crazy. Couldn’t stand it. I wanted to kill him for touching you” He pauses, lifting his head to look into your eyes, his gaze raw, vulnerable, every wall he’d built around himself now shattered. “I’ve wanted you like this… needed you like this… for so long.”

Hearing him say it out loud, the desire intertwined in every syllable, makes your head spin. Feeling he is fully hard under you now, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him, his mouth falling open slightly at the realisation what you are doing for him. You maintain eye contact with him, as you feel the carpet dig into your knees, but you don't care, not when he looks at you like this.

"Fuck... you don't have to." he says, putting a strand of hair behind your ear.

"I want to." you say, and reach for his belt. "Do you want to?"

"Yes." he says it way too quick and it makes you giggle. He helps you undo the belt, lifting his hips to take off his pants.

You palm him through his underwear again, enjoying the delicious moan from him. You motion for him to take them off and he does. "Good boy." you purr and you swear you can see an actual sparkle in his eyes. Who would have thought the mean Internet Cafe employee, who everyone is so scared of, would be melting under your palm at a few words of praise. His cock jumps free from the confines of his boxers, but you don't give it the attention it craves so much. Not yet. Your hands drift up, playing with the hem of his shirt, your nails grazing his stomach lightly, sending a wave of heat coursing through his veins. A sharp exhale escapes him before he can stop it, his muscles tensing under your touch.

After feeling that you've teased him enough, you take his dick in your hands, the tip an angry shade of red, pre-cum spilling from the anticipation. Mixing it with your spit, you start to stroke him. You pay attention to alternating in pressure, swiping your thumb over his tip every time you passed it. Then you nuzzle against it, pressing soft, lingering kisses along the side, your warm breath sending another shudder through him. You are savoring every inch before you begin. Only then your lips part, and you finally take him in. The first flick of your tongue sends a sharp jolt of pleasure up his spine. He has to grip the desk, not to push his hips. Your lips wrap around him, slow and firm, dragging along his length with precision.

"Feels so good." he borderline whines looking down at you. "Keep going please." his hands find the back of your head, not pushing, just wanting to feel you.

Your tongue glides firmly along the underside, tracing every vein, your movements deliberate as you circle the tip before taking him in your mouth again, your lips stretching around his girth. The lewd sound of your lips smacking around you loud in the empty room, making his stomach tighten. You look up at him innocently, as you take more and more of him, your warm and wet mouth mixed with the view makes him almost lose his mind and cum on the spot. He has to lean his head back and concentrate not to end it too soon.

You are however relentless—taking him deeper each time, your spit slicking every inch of him. You bob your head with a slow, steady rhythm, a mix of suction and slippery, messy tongue work that makes his breath stutter.

Suddenly there is a noise of a door opening. His hand on your head gripping your hair, motioning for you to stop. You do, still with his cock in your mouth, you feel him sit up straighter, fixing his hair. There are footsteps coming closer, but luckily they can't see you from your position under the desk.

"Hello, can I print out a few things? Is there a working printer?" an unfamiliar voice asks.

Joost clears his throat. "Hello, yes. It's over there. How many copies?" his voice trying to hide the fact that your soft mouth is still wrapped around his length cockwarming him. The customer goes on a long tangent telling a story how the past few places had trouble with printing and he is walking all around town trying to make a copy of a document. Joost hums in approval listening to his story, one of his hands still wrapped tightly on your hair, making sure you don't get an idea of teasing him.

The customer walks over to the printer. "Call if you need any help." Joost tells him. You hope the customer can do it on his own.

As the footsteps grow quieter and further away, Joost releases his hand from your hair. You move away from him as quietly as possible, leaning your head on his thigh. He looks down at you, pressing a finger to his slips motioning for you to stay quiet and you nod.

You can hear the printer beeping and the customer settling in behind the computer. After awhile you start to get bored, as Joost got back to typing on the keyboard, probably pretending to work not to give away what was happening before. You start to press soft kisses along his thigh. He doesn't stop you, so you continue doing it almost with no sound, the buzz of the printer also helping to hide any noise. You get bolder and bite him, although not hard enough to produce the noise that comes out of him – too loud for how light the bite was. You lick over the spot, he looks down at you with raised eyebrows and you smile apologetically.

"Everything ok?" the customer asks.

"Oh. Yeah, all good." Joost replies. His voice shaky. "Just, um, you know, looking at prices. They seem to bite for real nowadays." the customer laughs at that and agrees. The printing noise continues.

You have to cover your mouth not to laugh at him too. After giving him a few minutes to recover, you continue pressing kisses along his thigh, inching closer to his neglected cock. He stiffens in his seat, but doesn't stop you, so you go further. You ghost your lips over the sensitive skin along his shaft, licking at the tip. His grip tightens over the mouse. You take him in your mouth, building a slow rhythm, not swallowing him too deep to avoid the noise, but enough to tease him. His breathing grows heavier and his big hand finds the back of your head again, his fingers weaving through your hair.

"Fuck. Stop stop." you hear him whisper quietly.

"All done?" you hear Joost say.

"Yep. Thank you so much." the customer replies. "Are you...alright?" he asks tentatively after a pause.

"Yes, I am totally fine. Tired probably. A long shift." he says with no waver in his voice, which makes the guy believe it, not wanting to ask any more questions.

The customer pays and you hear him leave.

"Shit." Joost exhales, his body relaxing. You are also glad he is finally gone. "You little devil." he looks down at you again. He brings you up from under the table and leans down to meet you halfway for a kiss. He groans still tasting himself on your mouth, he tilts your head to deepen the kiss, his cock twitching when you reach out to touch it. You break the kiss, "So sensitive." you whisper against his mouth.

"Get back to work." he leaves one last kiss on your lips and you take your place between his legs. There is a sense of urgency in the air, hoping no one else comes in.

You spit on his tip again, slow and deliberate, watching the saliva trail down before you gather it with your tongue and take him in your mouth once more. You deepen the rhythm, your mouth molding around him, your cheeks hollowing as you suck with more urgency, a wet, obscene symphony filling the space beneath the desk. The slick sounds grow louder, more obscene, as spit pools and dribbles from the corners of your mouth, coating his length in a messy sheen.

You take him to the base, your throat clenching around him, a loud moan leaving his lips, before you pull back, eyes fluttering your breath labored. You let another thick strand of spit fall, your fingers smoothing it down as you stroke him with both hands, your grip greedy, insatiable. Then go back in, your nails digging lightly into his thigh, steadying yourself, like you're getting lost in it. You feel yourself get wet, your clit pulsing steadily, listening to his moans, watching his face scrunch up in pleasure, his heavy hand on the back of your head.

"You like it, huh?" he asks, his chest heaving up and down. You hum around him, the vibrations sending an additional wave of pleasure for him. "So pretty on your knees for me." he brushes away a tear, which falls down your cheek.

He presses you down just a little more. "Can I do this?" he asks and you moan in approval, nodding. Your throat tightens as he pushes you deeper, the tip hitting the back of your throat, making you gag around him. He keeps you there for a moment, his eyes closing in pleasure, "Fuck.." he exhales and lets go off you.

You wrap your hand around his slick length. Your strokes are slow, loud, your fingers working him with a deliberate pace. Looking up at him from under the desk, you look utterly wrecked—lips swollen and slick, spit trailing down your chin, eyes glassy and dark with hunger. He thinks you look like a dream, he is already planning the date in the back of his head, he wants to wake up next to you, he even imagines growing old with you, which he never did before. You pant softly, your breath shaky, as both hands work him with slow, messy strokes, your fingers coated in the evidence of your own devotion.

His thighs tremble as you keep stroking, your grip firm, fingers gliding over his slick length with a slow, almost lazy confidence. His breath is uneven, hot, moans slipping past his lips, same as your own, as if you are lost in the act itself, dazed by the sensation of having him in your hands. Your palm twists just right as you drag it up and down. Your eyes stay locked on his, a smirk on your pretty face. You lick over his tip and wrap your lips around him, sucking, bobbing your head up and down.

His body tenses as your throat tightens around him, your free hand rolling his balls in your palm as you move up and down with an unrelenting pace. Your movements are fast, ruthless, each descent pushing him deeper into your throat. His moans turn breathier, more frantic. Your tongue presses against the underside, rubbing against that sensitive spot as your lips stretch around his girth. Tears prick the corners of your eyes, spit dripping from your chin, but you don't stop determined to take him to completion.

His head tips back, mouth falling open in a loud moan as his hips jerk forward involuntarily. Pleasure crashes over him like a tidal wave, blinding, unstoppable. His muscles go taut, as he cums deep inside you, and you moan around him, swallowing greedily as if you're desperate for every last drop. The thick warmth shoots down your throat, and you take it all effortlessly, your lips sealed tight, sucking him through every wave.

You take your mouth off of him, your own breathing heavy. You leave a few more kisses on his thigh, helping him come back to his senses.

"That was... incredible. You are incredible." he says, pulling you back onto his lap. He takes a tissue from his desk and wipes gently at your lips.

You lay your head on his shoulder, as he puts his pants back on and wraps his hands around you. "Can I take you home? My shift ends soon." he asks carefully, nervously.

You lift your head looking up at him. "Yes."

He did take you home and fucked you until you couldn't take his touch anymore, his attention fixated on your pleasure alone. And you kept coming back to his place, months later it becoming a part of you, as much as it is for him. Your lives gradually intertwining more and more, learning how to be the best for each other.

You hear your alarm clock go off, reaching out to turn it off. Joost groans beside you, he only recently came back home after his shift, but it is already time for you to start getting ready for work. You feel his arm wrap tighter around you, his chest pressed tight around your back, as if he could be any closer to you.

"I need to get up, Joost." you try to peal yourself off of him.

"Just 5 more minutes, please." he feels like he hasn't gotten enough of you yet. He always feels so cold without you in his bed. He can't even remember how his life was without you in it. Your warmth seems to have fix everything.

He nuzzles closer to you, burying his head into your neck. You turn in his embrace, kissing him slowly, he immediately reacts and returns the kiss.

"How soon do you have to leave at the latest?" he asks.

"We have like.. 10 minutes max." you say. You really can't be late again. It is always the same with him when it is a night shift for him – he comes back late, you have to leave early. He wants to cuddle for 5 more minutes, which turns into something more, but you don't complain, you can't get enough of him too.

"Perfect." you feel him smile against your neck.

[rotagnus]

what does this person think of you? --<3

this is an intuitive reading, if it does not speak to you do not take it to heart. i will be blunt so don't expect butterflies and unicorns. this is asking about someone who at least knows about your existence...so no f/s, no celebrity. can be romantic or platonic. blurbs because i made six piles...maybe i'll add on later or do a pt. 2. feedback is appreciated but not required. enjoy, babies 💋

i've been a bit busy with personal life and senior year, but when spring break rolls around i'll make more pacs and in between then as well. <3

this person thinks that you're very fawn-like. you're bubbly and you know how to be the center of attention, which can bug you sometimes--this person thinks you revel in it, though. compared to you, they may be less popular--nerdier, unseen, and they admire the way you can command people at your will. they may be meek and have had some issues in their life that have caused them to be on the more quiet side. they're a very calm person though, and they appreciate that you're more different than them. they think you're warm, and although you're a bit too bright at times, they love your spark. i think you're asking about someone on your level, around your age. if this is a romantic connection, i think there's some potential, although this person may not be ready for this. you are much more spiritually advanced than them. song: easy lovers by piero piccioni. animal: mourning dove. place: coastlines.

this person can probably be seen as a bit rude/cold at first. i'm thinking of sea storms, brick walls incase that may be significant. you're probably out of high school, in the real world. this may be a coworker or college friend you're asking about. anyways, i think they think that you're pretty neat. you probably have similar interests--if you haven't spoken to them, you really should. this can be a very good friendship. they may like sports or have varying hobbies than you (not interests necessarily). you're more on the artistic, musical side. they think that you're very talented, but that you show this side to other people rarely. you have this summery aura around you. you feel like home. but they, also, have a very widespread social circle and they think very positively about other people. they're probably more talkative than you are. song: champagne coast by blood orange. animal: tiger. place: islands.

this person may resent you a little bit for some reason. i'm thinking of birds. i think you embody some quality that they wish to have, and the fact that it seems like you exhibit this so easily makes them upset. you're a very lucky person and life gives you whatever you want on a silver platter--they do not know that you've worked for everything that you currently have. you may be flighty, which can be both positive or negative, and it pisses them off because they stay in one spot all of the time. you're not attached to things as much as they are, and it makes them furious at how fast you can move on from things. you probably smile a lot and they get upset with that--this can be an ex, someone who didn't make the first move, even a parent with whom your relationship has grown sour. i think that this connection is probably better off not existing. song: angel by massive attack. animal: snake. place: inland.

they think a lot of you contrasts other parts of you. you may be a feminine man or a masculine woman, or exhibit qualities that aren't expected of you, like being a girl and having short hair or having a job in a more male-dominated field, f.e. you're a fiery person--i wouldn't say outright bubbly like pile 1, because you do have your silent moments, but when you do speak you fill your words with passion. you're a very powerful person and they don't know what to make of you. you're a bit intimidating so if you're hoping they'll approach you, you may have to make the first move 😂. but if you've spoken with them already, this person likes you and adores you. you're their little punk and they think that you're pretty darn cool. they're probably alternative, or they also defy norms. that's why they think you're pretty nice. they're a genuine person, although they may be a bit blunt sometimes. song: elskling by elusin. animal: dolphin. place: cities.

i think this person thinks you're very beautiful. note that this doesn't mean they are necessarily attracted to you, but for a lot of you, they are. you have very well-defined features, and you don't try to cover them up, even though some of you do struggle with self image. they think you're not only absolutely drop-dead gorgeous, but you're wise. you're soft but you know how to punch too, but you choose to be at peace. i don't really think this person is in a position to know a lot about you, as of now...i would be 50/50 about talking to them seriously if you haven't already. this person does have the ability to form meaningful connections with people, but for some of you they're lustful and very material-based. song: agora hills. animal: cat. place: luxurious/well cared for.

ahhh my final pile! hi darling. this seems like someone you've fell out with, or you have had a rocky relationship. i think you're tired, or sad now--maybe you have seasonal depression. i feel like you're carrying a big weight on your shoulders, and this person has noticed that too. they think of you as very honorable. you have a strong-set of morals that they admire, and they like how you're loyal to things despite sometimes it being to a fault. they think that you're a very honest person--unrelated but some of you may have an accent or an interesting way of speaking. you have a good heart, and because of this you have an amalgamation of many different people in your social circle, since you're non-judgmental. the person thinks that this is bad, because they're really judgy themselves. they're also probably insecure. i think you need to stop caring about what this person thinks and instead go treat yourself. after you've helped yourself out of this sludge, you'll learn that you don't really care for what they think--this doesn't mean that they don't matter, no, but it means that they're not the focal point of your life and that the beautiful energy surrounding you should be devoted to other things, not just them. song: total eclipse of the heart by bonnie tyler. animal: dog. place: southern.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

Hi! Even though you must receive such compliments often, I have to say that your Billford art is very unique and incredible! :D Your Bill is so cartoonish yet quirky; I can't express enough how much I like him and Ford (and any other GF character from you, but them especially) in your style. Overall, your traditional style drawing suits them just right !

Anyway, since you posted your last comic, I have been wondering how Bill would look like and behave when furious or triggered in your style :0. I like seeing him cheerful and excited with Ford, but I can't help but think what conversation they might have when Ford finds out about Bill and confronts him about it.

Do you plan to draw more comics/pics with angsty BillFord? Their relationship during/after their falling out?👀👀

Ohh man, thank you! That is so kind of you! I'm really glad you like my drawings of them :D💕

That's a really good question! I think the silly, ridiculous, stupid part of their relationship is what gets me the most, and that's what I like to draw. I mean, if you're on the patreon seeing the more suggestive stuff, even the way I depict THAT is really dumb. But Billford really does have it all, and there's a LOT of angst + scary stuff happening too. I do think about it, but it's not anything I get super motivated to draw.

When I DO think about drawing conflict between them, usually it's still in a humorous light. It's just the sort of thing that makes me happy. The sillystupid stuff.

I have thought about drawing bill with a very specific expression - one where he's VERY VERY furious. I'm envisioning some sort of equivalent to him "biting" his lower "lip" but it's a row of teeth pressing into the underside of his eyeball. Here's some doodles I did a month or two ago. I still haven't made any drawings of this expression that I'm satisfied with, I think it should be more exaggerated and lip-like... somehow.

It needs work. I want it to be like... spongebob freeze frame level of weird. But I was thinking this is how he'd react if he stumbled into one of Fiddlefords Fantasizing About Ford dreams. That's something I've been thinking about drawing for a while, but haven't yet.

Anyway, I hope this answered your question ok?? Thank you for taking the time to type such a lovely ask!

[steddieprompts]

Been craving Eddie and Max content but I can't not write about Steddie so...

-----

"Stop pacing." Max sighed from her ER bed.

"I can't help it. I hate hospitals." Eddie grumbled.

"You can go. I'm nineteen, I don't need an adult with me, you know?"

"I'm not shirking my brotherly duty."

Max snorted.

"What? You don't think I'm doing a good job?"

"No... you said duty."

"Jesus and they haven't even put you on pain meds yet."

"Just trying to get you to chill out." Max sighed, wincing when her arm shifted. Eddie eyed her arm before looking back up at her.

"Did you almost land it?"

"This close," Max said, holding up her fingers in a pinch gesture.

"What about the qualifiers?"

Max sighed again at that. She had been working towards getting in the X-games. She wasn't going to let a broken wrist slow her down though.

"The cast should be off before then. I can still skate with a broken wrist."

Eddie was about to reply when the door to the room opened.

"Hello, nurse," Involuntary left Eddie' mouth like some sort of cartoon animal. Max threw Eddie a look that he didn't see, but luckily the man didn't seem to hear him.

"Maxine?" The Greek God in scrubs moonlighting as a nurse asked Max as he pulled her chart off the end of her bed.

"Max, but yeah."

"Max, I'm nurse Steve. I'll be taking care of you until Dr. Wheeler sees you," the man said, eyes flicking over to Eddie. "Who do we have with you today?"

Eddie stared, enchanted by nurse Steve's eyes. Seconds ticked by before Max took mercy.

"This is my brother, Eddie."

"Eddie," Steve nodded at him with the slightest hint of a smirk before looking back to Max, "Max, Dr. Wheeler is the best ER doctor this hospital has. You are in good hands." Max nodded. "So, here for a broken wrist, huh?"

"Guess so."

"On a scale of one to five, where is your pain right now?"

"Four."

"Okay, I'm gonna get you some pain meds. Are you allergic to anything besides..." Steve flipped through her chart, "Bee stings and shellfish?"

"She can't take oxy," Eddie finally spoke up, the initial trance the man had over him wearing off slightly.

"I'm not allergic to oxy," Max retorted.

"Last time you took oxy, you puked all over my van, Red."

"That was from the anesthesia."

"I'm not taking that chance."

"Okay! Okay, we will give you something that isn't oxycodone based, okay?"

"Much appreciated, Stevie," Eddie smiled at him, taking pleasure in the way Steve almost fumbled taking his pen out of his pocket. Eddie glanced over at Max to see her roll her eyes.

"I'm gonna go get the meds and update your chart. Do you need anything before I go?" Max shook her head and Steve nodded. "Okay, hang tight."

Eddie stared at Steve's retreating form as he left the room.

"Uh, I know I said I wouldn't shirk my brotherly duties but..."

"Uhg, God, gross," Max fake gagged, "Whatever, loser. Go. Chase."

"Thanks, sis," Eddie threw over his shoulder, already halfway across the room.

He caught sight of Steve two rooms down and he nearly ran to catch him before he opened the door. Steve saw him and paused.

"Hey," Eddie started. Real smooth.

"Is Max okay?" Steve asked, concern pinching his brow.

"Red? Yeah, no, she's fine." Eddie waved over his shoulder dismissively.

"Oh, okay. Did you need something?"

"Just wondering if you get a break? I could buy you a coffee?"

Eddie watched as Steve smiled before biting his lip. Jackpot.

Steve looked over his shoulder before waving for Eddie to follow him. They ducked into an empty room.

"I am strictly prohibited from getting involved with patients or family while they are under my care, but..." Steve reached into his pocket and took out a card. "Turn around."

Eddie did as he was told and he felt Steve press the card to his back before he heard the click of a pen.

"If you just happened to somehow get my number and texted me once Max was discharged, I wouldn't mind dinner."

Eddie felt a chill when Steve's hands left his back. He turned around and Steve pressed the card into his palm.

"By the way, you had me at 'hello, nurse,'" Steve grinned at him.

"Don't get that often?" Eddie asked, pocketing the card.

"Not from hot guys who look like they could fix my car."

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess... and you have grease on you cheek." Steve smirked.

Suddenly a head popped through the doorway to the room. "Dingus! You're falling behind on your rotation!" The woman whisper-yelled.

"Shit, Sorry Robs," Steve hissed before turning back to Eddie. "Duty calls."

Eddie and Robin snorted simultaneously

"Jesus, what?"

"You said duty." They said at the same time.

"Never mind. When you text me, I'm not responding," Steve said leaving the room, but not before Eddie caught the smile he was trying to hide.

When Eddie made it back to Max's room he was staring at the card with Steve's number on it.

"Oh good, my horn dog brother got hot nurse Steve's number but I still don't have any pain meds."

"Shush. He's working on it. Don't insult my future husband like that."

"God, just kill me now."

[kittendreaw]

Actor! Satoru x F! Reader.

Mainlist

Pt.2

Satoru was on top of the world, he was the prince of Hollywood, the new heartthrob of the big screen, sounds fantastic, doesn't it?

It was for everyone except you, his poor manager, the only reason you haven't quit is because of how ridiculously good the pay is.

"Just Please make my job easier Satoru." You couldn't help but be frustrated, Dealing with Satoru was sometimes like dealing with a spoiled brat and sometimes it was just worse.

"Well, I'll pay you for that."

"You pay me to be your manager, not your babysitter so please stay here and cooperate."

And of course he didn't because it was complicated, no matter how long he had been in the industry he was still a pain in the ass for assistants, makeup artists, directors, photographers, etc. Basically anyone who had the misfortune to work with him.

It was always the same, you should be used to it by now but it was impossible.

"What do you mean you're not going to come with me?"

"It's not that hard to understand."

He rolled his eyes while his arms crossed over his chest. No matter your size or how high your heels are, Satoru was simply giant in front of you. "Don't be a Smartass, Yn, you're my manager, you have to come with me."

"Nanami will do the job of going with you that night."

"but I don't want Nanami! "

"I'll be busy with some paperwork that night."

" Well, have Nanami do the paperwork and you come with me."

" It's not that easy."

Yes, it was that easy but you hated big events and going to the Oscars was torture for you, you had managed to get away on most occasions but Satoru was getting more and more insistent.

"Why?"

You let out a sigh, you could make up as many excuses as you could he just always kept asking.

"Satoru, look, I don't want to go."

"Why?"

"I don't know I just-" You could deal with people, that was no longer the problem but you still don't get used to all the cameras ready to capture every second.

"Why do you mean? It's not that hard, you just have to get pretty and come with me, you can do that."

"But I don't want."

"But you don't want." He repeated, clearly he was not happy and clearly not the day was not going to end without him getting what he wanted. There was a pause in which no one said anything. "I'm your boss, you can't tell me no."

"You should review workers' rights, Satoru."

"Dammit." He muttered. "Just say yes, please. I swear it won't be so terrible, besides I already bought you a dress, it would be rude of you to refuse it."

A pair of puppy eyes and a few more pleas and just as he wanted it, there you were with the pretty burgundy dress, the high black heels and gloves of the same color.

"Look at you, you are beautiful."

Satoru approached you, observing every detail of your appearance. It was true that the dress was pretty and that the makeup artist had done an excellent job, but you couldn't help but make your stomach churn every time you remembered the place you were going.

"But I know how to do it even better."

Satoru called one of the attendants who held out a box from which he pulled out a diamond necklace. It was beautiful and also damn expensive, it was the kind of thing you'd never pay for but always admire from afar. Satoru put it around your neck giving the final touch to your look that night.

"I-" It was too much for you, you couldn't accept it.

"Not a single word, tonight you have to stand out, after all you are my date." You felt your soul leave your body for a few seconds, you had planned to stay as hidden as you could but Satoru wanted you next to him posing for the cameras, this was definitely too much, much more than you were ready to do, you couldn't, Your mind was only thinking about all the negative possibilities this could bring and all the embarrassing things you could do. You wanted to throw up, was it too late to get back to the paperwork plan?

"What?"

[official-megumin]

I saw a post not too long ago seemingly essentially trying to frame the extermination of queer people, and especially trans people as an after thought from the nazi.

With OP being pissy over the correct assertion that trans people were among the first targets of the nazi regime.

It's fucking outrageous that claims like that are still made as if queer people in general, and again. Especially trans people. Haven't been constantly excluded and removed from the discussion about the holocaust.

Yes Magnus Hirschfeld was jewish. So yes you could argue that he was the "real target" for the raids. Y'know instead of the nazis obviously wanting to eradicate gender science because our existance very proveably goes against nazi beliefs.

Even fucking know, with a hitler-wannabe in the white house, then guess who is the first target again?

That's right, trans people.

We're the least cared for target, it's easier to convince the populace to hate and eradicate a bunch of "sexual degenerates" than it is to destroy all jews, even if ultimately they're both intrinsically connected in the eyes of nazis.

Like can you fucking not continue the century long history of denying the eradication of trans people??? Like just how fucking daft can you be to be like "nuh you were an accidental target of this raid designed to elimate all research on and knowledge on people like you"?

You're not fucking better than terf queen rowling if you do this. You're also very much a holocaust denier if you do this.

Understanding of gender and sexuality was set back fucking decades because of the nazis, the nazis also started sex verifications for sports. It's not like this was an isolated incident. And it's still happening.

If fucking anything it should be pointed out that this was exactly how hitler started all those years ago

[fraddit]

Madney House Floor Plan

If you saw my post yesterday with a less complete version of this floor plan, no you didn't 😅. Big thank you to @chuwungjae, who kindly pointed me toward a scene I missed that really solidified things! Anyway, a lovely anon asked me to offer my two cents on the layout of the Madney house, so I threw together this basic floor plan. Anon, I hope you see this!

Here we go! This is based on everything through 8a. Blue is interior spaces. Green is exterior spaces. Fuchsia is stuff I couldn't find a good shot of or haven't seen at all and am therefore not sure about.

Look below the cut for further discussion of things. However, I'm doing this post "lazy style", so I won't be providing screen shots to back up anything I'm saying. You'll just have to trust me, sorry.

One thing I feel is important to note is that this house has only ever been a set and is designed as a set and doesn't make sense as an actual house. The set doesn't match the brief exterior shots of the murder house in its introductory episode and also doesn't match typical US suburban building codes as far as aesthetics are concerned, since no part of the house is really designed as the "front" that would normally face the street.

Anyway! The entry leads into the living room. The living room leads into the dining. The dining leads into the kitchen. Off the kitchen is the courtyard.

The hallway up from the kitchen goes to the bedrooms. Jee's shares walls with the living and kitchen. Maddie and Chim's bedroom is at the end of the hall and looks out onto the courtyard. I caught a glimpse of what looks like a night stand that leads me to believe this is how their bed is situated in the room, but I'm not 100% on it. However, the bed being between two windows is accurate. No idea what's happening with that far wall. Maybe a closet? Maybe caught a glimpse of a dresser through the courtyard doors? idk.

I'm nearly positive they embiggened the courtyard for the hot tub plot. Also, the kitchen island has reversed sides at least once. I think those are the only little weirdnesses I noticed though.

Since there's no indication of a bathroom toward the top of the plan, I'm pretty sure the door off the bottom of the kitchen is the bathroom. But that's fully a guess on my part. I have nothing to back this up.

There's also a door off the bottom of the courtyard. No idea where that goes either. Maybe garage? Storage? Water heater and other utility?

I'm pretty sure the doors in the entryway are a closet, but I never caught them open to confirm. The door in the dining room has been shown open and is a coat closet.

And that's pretty much everything, I think. Thanks for coming on this journey with me. Guess I should drop the links for my other floor plans: Eddie's house (tumblr), Eddie's house (ao3), Buck's loft (tumblr), Buck's loft (ao3)

✌💕

[wellofdean]

I still remember what Jensen said years ago, I think he would disagree with Rob and Rich https://pbs.twimg.com/media/GjTN6m5WUAAxsWG?format=jpg&name=small

Here's the content of that link. Many apologies for reposting, but:

So, my first answer to this is, as I've said before, I am infinitely more interested in the text itself than I am in what any of them say about it, and the text is what it is (GAY). What's nice about these episodes of Rich & Rob's podcast is that they are actually responding to the thing we all saw in our TV box, and saying "Dial it down to 11 guys, geez," which: Yes. Good to know y'all can see a church by daylight.

But also, in the Q&A format at a con, there are loads of different reasons Jensen might say this or that. What's the context here? Who is he onstage with? What's the crowd like? What exactly was the question? Also, this answer rightly acknowledges that the "whole Dean and Cas thing" was poppin' off in season 8. Well spotted. Perhaps he is thinking that the show needed to separate them for awhile so they wouldn't have to just fucking make out already? In fact, perhaps that was exactly the thinking, because honestly, season 9 goes off on the star-crossed Destiel, complete with parallel cross-species romances to interrogate proof of concept and some serious Romeo and Juliet-ass shit:

Dean praying to Cas and saying "I need you here" while he agonises about what to do about Sam; the whole painful kicking Cas out of the bunker storyline with the yearning date prep and the fanfic gap (plus LOADS of other shit in that episode); Cas gets killed by April and Dean tenderly cradles his face and then is jealous about the sex; they have a big vulnerable heart-to-heart about the Sam situation and why Dean kept Cas away and Cas forgives him immediately and helps Dean; Dean takes the mark of Cain and the Crowley/Dean/Cas love triangle start revving up; Collette is invented for the sole purpose of paralleling Cas; the Garth is a werewolf episode is here about finding love in unexpected places! love Is love, yo!; the fitness centre episode with its many implications that Dean is into dudes; Metatron's speech about what gives a story meaning; Gabriel calls Cas Dean's boytoy; Metatron tells Cas "I left you human because I hoped you would live happily ever after" because HE KNOWS; the whole Romeo and Juliet thing in episode 20 with the werewolf/shapeshifter romance that pointedly mirrors Dean and Cas; Dean drops everything to go help Cas, leading to Cas giving up his army for one man; Hannah is invented to throw another triangle into the works; Metatron says Cas is in love..............with humanity; Dean dies (Juliet much?) and comes back a demon.

Like, I am leaving LOADS out.

Firstly? They were 💯 writing it like that. They leaned the fuck in every chance they got. And secondly, y'all get that Jensen pointedly does not talk about subtext, or things that the story is doing on the DL, or about things that haven't happened yet, and he doesn't talk about any of Dean's feelings that Dean would not openly talk about himself? Jensen is actually admirably disciplined and principled about it? And, you know that he could also just be disingenuous on purpose to avoid doing so, and to allow unspoken things to remain unspoken? If he just tells us, where's our joy in figuring it out going to come from? Y'all should THANK HIM for not stealing our joy.

I personally think? Jensen is clever. He is very intentional and I think he knows what he's doing. If you consider that Jensen talks AS DEAN in cons and never goes beyond something Dean would say, well...then it makes sense he would say that in light of the fact that anyone who understands narrative can see that the text itself is WALL TO WALL star-crossed Destiel, because that's what happens when you separate them and then write them as you have been all along. I'm glad he enjoyed it! Me too!

Like, either you think Jensen is a full idiot, or you have to admit that there might be layers to the things he says.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

I think I finally came up with a request idea! May I request some angst into fluff for a David x Reader where the reader is starting to feel guilty about something that happened in their past and David comforts them? Maybe based on the song Just a Man from The Epic Saga? Thank you!!!

Yes! Absolutely, sorry for the wait! I hope you like this💜

----------------------

A deep sigh left my chest as I looked over the town in front of me, my elbows resting on the cold rails of my balcony. Here and there, there were still lights burning, but almost everyone was asleep. Not me. I couldn't.

I looked at the burning cigarette between my fingers, seeing the collected ash as I had forgotten about it while lost in thought. I quickly released it from my hold, not wanting to burn myself. I stared out over the town again, closing my eyes as a cold wind swept through the trees.

A few nights ago, I had learnt that the world I thought I knew didn't exist. The world I knew was one with harsh realities and consequences. The one presented before me was one of miracles and dark fantasies.

The thing is, I hadn't been scared. Not once. Not when he forced me to drink, tricking me into something unknown. Not when he made me jump off that bridge. I hadn't even blinked an eye when his face transformed right in front of my eyes from handsome to downright monstrous.

It was only when he showed me how they fed that I felt myself become frightened. The way they laughed and cheered, the way they ripped bodies apart, the blood that was flying everywhere...

I shook my head as I tried to remove that image that was now burned into my brain. A few years ago, I wouldn't even have blinked at that scene, not once I knew what they were. But now? Things are different.

I leaned my head on my hands, ignoring the empty growling in my stomach and the persistent itch in my throat. I wouldn't change. I couldn't. I couldn't be like them. Not with how they fed, with how much pleasure they took in killing.

"You should drink this. It will make you feel better."

I jumped up, stumbling backwards as I heard his voice beside me.

"David?!"

He grinned, handing me a flask. I took it silently, opening it and smelling what was inside. Blood. I looked at him, before gratefully taking a sip. Then a second. A third.

It didn't take long before I had finished it, feeling slightly better than I had done before.

"Thanks." I handed him the flask back. "What are you doing here?"

"Just checking up on you."

"I'm okay."

He looked at me, and eyebrow raised. "You looked petrified when we showed you what needed to be done. We haven't seen you since."

"Okay, so, I'm not okay. But I'm dealing with it." I said, silently cursing myself when I heard my own uncertainty.

David shook his head, opening the balcony door. "Tell me what's wrong."

I shook my head, trying to smile but failing miserably. "I don't know-"

"I'm not going to be pissed," he told me as he sat down on my bed. "I haven't seen you in three days. I hate to say it but I was worried."

"You were?" I asked, surprised, closing the door and curtains. I turned some lights on, not daring to look him in the eye.

"Have I not made that clear? I said you were mine."

I shrugged, grinning sheepishly. "I thought that it was meant in a predator way."

He chuckled. "It's not."

I nodded, sitting down opposite from him, crossing my legs. "Oh."

"Yeah."

It was silent between us for a moment, before David looked at me again. "The way you ran from us when we were feeding, you weren't scared by us."

It was a statement. I didn't even have to tell him that they hadn't necessarily scared me. He had known. Had he seen? Or had it been something he picked up from my brain?

"So why did you run?"

I was quiet for a moment, scared to admit it. Scared to admit that the vampire life, the life he had promised me and I had taken, was maybe not for me.

"I couldn't handle the blood."

He was quiet for a moment, looking me in the eyes. "It's more than that."

I nodded. "It is."

His face softened as he looked at me. "Tell me."

"I - about three years ago, some friends and I, we went on a holiday. We had rented a cabin, stocked up on booze and music. It was just supposed to be fun." I tried to smile, thinking back on how wonderful my friends had been, but tears already started to well up in my eyes. "The first night everything was fine, and we partied and danced and just had a lot of fun. The second night, a girl showed up. She - she was covered in blood, screaming and begging for help. We let her in... none of us knew her or knew what she could do. We just - we just wanted to help someone."

"What happened?"

"She was pretty banged up, so my sister and I, we took her to the bathroom to clean her wounds and make sure she wasn't going to get an infection or something. While we were doing that, a man showed up at the front porch. He had an axe with him. We- we didn't see anything. We just heard what happened. He slashed through the door, he killed my friends. He came for us then, the girl screaming for him to come and get her."

I swalled hard, tears running down my face as I remembered the way my sister had held me, both of us hoping to make it through. I trembled, quietly wiping away my tears.

"He came in. My sister - she was older than me, always worrying about keeping me safe and-" I took a deep breath, "she pushed the girl in front of us, sacrificing her so we could get away. And we did. Almost. I- I'd just made it down the stairs and out the front door when I heard her screaming. I turned around, and I was just frozen. I couldn't move, I couldn't help her, I just I just stood there and watched as that maniac slashed right through her, cutting her up in pieces..."

"Shit..." David looked at me. Through my tears, I looked at him, not ever having him seen so soft and caring before. "Kitten, if I had known..."

"I know," I said quietly, looking at him. "I know. I just thought I could. I wanted to. I-"

"Why?"

I looked at my hands, not daring to look him in the eye. "I wanted you to be proud of me."

"Love," he took my hands, making me look at him. "I am proud of you. You are my other half. Literally. And to know what you've been through? And seing what you're doing now? You're strong. Stronger than I initially thought."

"She died because of me..." I whispered, "I'm not strong. Not like her."

"She died for you. To protect you, and give you a chance to live." David pulled me closer. "That you're still here, that means you're strong."

I nestled against him, holding him tight as he did the same to me.

"I don't want to feed like that. I don't think I can."

"Then you won't have to. We'll find a way that works for you."

"And what if we never do?"

"It only takes one kill to become one of us. If you really can't," he shrugged, brushing his fingers through my hair, "I don't know. We'll rob a bloodbank for you."

"You'd do that?" I asked quietly, tracing my fingers over his other hand.

"For you?" He looked at me. "Anything."

[panlight]

Silly observation but in the twilight movie when Charlie leaves Bella in her room to unpack, there are a bunch of stuffed animals that are all dogs in her room. Some on her bed and on the shelf behind her bed. I never noticed this before. Do you think it is foreshadowing like the painting of the wolf by her door, or just set props to make her room cluttered for the movie?

I just found this really funny because I never noticed it and I’ve seen this movie 1948302 times, I’m sure.

Oh, huh, I hadn't noticed but yeah there are a bunch of stuffed animals.

I guess it might ultimately be about giving this "childhood bedroom" vibes, that things haven't changed much since Bella visited as a kid and Charlie doesn't know enough to make any changes anyway. But I wonder if the dogs were chosen specifically to reference wolves or if that's just what they scrounged up on their somewhat low budget.

Always felt like Charlie should have had a pet. Either an old, lazy dog who just liked to sit on the couch next to him to watch The Game or a grumpy cat that just showed up one day and Charlie was like "I'll feed you but you're not staying" and before he knew it Charlie had a new roommate and best friend.

And it would have been interesting to see this pet flip out when Edward was around since animals canonically are terrified of vampires.

Charlie grumbling to himself as he pets Lazy Dog or Grumpy Cat like, "yeah I agree, I hate him too."

[dual-cetacean]

Potential art for the second season of No Place Like Home, first chapter (9).

Btw about the art: I always forgot how bald Nine looks like without the hair spikes. Big ass forehead. XD

"Back on the road in their lonesome, Nine ventures into the big and wide green world of Mobius."

It's officially a year since I started this project. It is the ninth of February (the second month of the year, ->Tails), and this fic is about a character named Nine. So, it is the perfect opportunity to post the first chapter of the second season of NPLH!

First and foremost, thank you to everyone who checked out my fic and read the entirety of season 1. I never expected that this little obsession of mine of writing a better ending for Nine (and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the cast of Sonic Prime) would get so popular. No kidding, this is my most successful fic to date, and the joy I get from working on it is immeasurable. I love all the comments I receive on it, and even if I have not had the chance to reply to them, I read them, and they fill me with so much warmth and fondness.

Thank you so much for sharing your guys' excitement and love with me. Writing Nine's journey is a pleasure; uncovering the plot and putting it on paper (screen) is an incredible adventure. This is one of the few projects I have worked on that I`ve been able to concentrate on for longer than a year, and it wouldn't be possible without all of my readers, who keep reading all the updates and leave me heartfelt comments. Especially a very big thank you to my very good friend @morp, who encouraged this story from its inception. Without it, it wouldn't have been as creative, or, who knows, it would still be sitting in my drafts collecting dust.

I usually do not start posting my multiple-chapter fics unless all of my rough scripts are finished. However, I expected these last few months to be able to write season 2 of NPLH so I could post them in the first half year of 2025. I overestimated myself as the previous semester was very heavy. For a whole semester, every day of the week with multiple exams and assignments kinda heavy. I had little time to write, and when I did, they were done in short spurts. (Everything I posted from September until the beginning of January was works I pre-made but still had to edit)

So, unfortunately, I haven't finished writing season 2 yet. However, it surprised me when I totalled how much I had already written: Chapters 1, 2, 4 and 5 were already done??? I hadn't expected that. So, I have written more than 50% already, and with a strong outline for the rest, I feel confident posting this chapter now. It will be a bit longer before I can regularly post the following chapters and make art for them, and honestly, with school, I really can't put a date on when this fic will continue. But everything is going much more smoothly than I expected when I realised last semester was so brutal.

So, yayヾ(≧ ▽ ≦)ゝ!

Also, good news: I passed all my classes for semester 1! So, there will be no redo exams for the summer for the last four months! So I can go into the second semester tomorrow without too much stress. I'm also doing only half of my classes so it should be more relaxing than the full program. Funnily enough, I am actually looking forward to my first class tomorrow ( •̀ ω •́ ).

So, please enjoy the beta chapter of chapter Nine~!