#how are you older than 13 and still think it's hot when a man is rude to everyone apart from you

[omgsomeonesomewhereonearth]

I start to question why all the coupley memes I send my boyfriend are of either cats or lesbians and then I'm reminded that straight people think that romance is being actively a dick to everyone who isn't your partner.

[vinylfoxbooks]

October 13 - Wave | @into-the-jeggyverse | wc: 963 Implied NSFW at the end

Regulus hates this. He hates the beach, Sirius knows that. And yet he still dragged his little brother along on his little vacation trip with his friends -- and it’s not like he had the courtesy to invite any of Regulus’ friends. 

The sun is too hot, there’s sand in places that Regulus would rather not talk about, the children that are everywhere are loud and running along the beach, and he’s so pale, that he has to hide in the shade otherwise he’ll end up cherry red and in pain -- Sirius doesn’t seem to care about it, despite being just as pale as his brother, though Remus is pushing to make sure Sirius walks out of this only slightly burnt. Regulus would like to read his book but all of the conditions are preventing him from doing just that. 

Specifically the one condition of James running around without a shirt on. 

Regulus is but a mere gay man, and James is built like a literal god. Who gave them the right to walk around without a shirt on when they’re built like that. All of their tattoos are on display -- mind you, Regulus didn’t previously know that James had any tattoos other than the ones visible on their arms -- and they’re laughing and messing around with Sirius in the water shoving each other into the waves, making their swim shorts stick to their thighs and water glisten on their skin. And, fuck, the reminder that they’re his when he sees the engagement ring sitting on his finger.

“You look like you might combust.” Remus muses from next to Regulus, bookmarking his own book, “Are you alright?”

“Mhm.”

“You’ve never been to the beach with James, have you?” Regulus shakes his head and the older laughs, “You poor thing. Just don’t let the jealousy get to you.” “What do you mean?” 

Remus hums and gestures to the beach around him, “I mean, we’re in a place full of half-clothed people, many are probably single or teens that think they might have a chance with him and I mean… you can admit how your fiance looks.”

Regulus feels his face heating just a bit at the mention of his relationship with James, “If people start flirting with them, we’re never going to the beach again.”

The older barks out a laugh, “You and I both know that they’re too oblivious to realise that people are flirting with them.”

“That makes it worse.” Regulus pouts. Remus laughs and is going to say more, but Sirius comes up to them and starts dripping water onto his boyfriend, taking a second to shake out his hair like a dog and spraying water all over them, which gets him yelled at by both. 

Not long after that, James comes up to them and takes a towel to run it through their hair -- like a civilised human being, unlike his brother -- before moving to settle down on the large towel Regulus has sat on, “Hi baby. Enjoying the beach?”

“Not really.” Regulus hums, “But you seem to be having a good time.” 

James smiles but doesn’t otherwise respond, leaning down to pull him into a quick kiss, “You can always head back to the house, you don’t need to hang out here if you don’t want to be here.”

“You say that like Sirius won’t force me to stay here.”

James hums, “I can get him to let you go, you’ve spent two hours here, that should be enough for him. Could you grab me the fruit?” Regulus nods and fishes around in the mini cooler that they brought, pulling out the plastic container of fruit that he and James cut up earlier, handing it to his fiance. James thanks him quickly and starts eating, feeding a couple blueberries to Regulus when requested.

The rest of the day goes alright. Regulus stays at the beach to monitor the people that approach his partner, only to be shocked when a woman around his age walks up to him and starts flirting with him, which Remus snorts at. And while Regulus is fully aware of what is happening, he isn’t quite sure how to respond because of all the people at the beach right now, why would someone want to flirt with him? The antisocial, ‘sickly victorian boy’ in Sirius’ words, that has been huddled in the shade the entire time with as much skin covered as possible -- in the back of his mind, he can hear Remus remarking that some people are into his look while gesturing to James. 

Just as he’s figuring out how to tell the girl that he’s very not into women, James comes storming up to them. They smile softly at Regulus and sit down next to him, wrapping their arms around his shoulders, “Hey baby, who’s this?” And Regulus gets the delight of watching as realisation dawns on the girl. She stammers out an excuse to leave and walks away to where her friends are sitting, watching them and giggling. 

“Were you jealous?” Regulus asks as soon as she’s out of earshot. 

James hums, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You just looked uncomfortable.”

“Mhm,” Remus nods, “And you don’t want to go back to the house right now?” And James’ face lights up at the suggestion and they nod frantically. Regulus laughs and leans up to kiss them before pulling them to a stand. James goes easily. They say their temporary goodbyes to Remus -- who laughs, probably knowing what is going on -- and waves to them, telling them that they’ll explain to Sirius. Then James is practically pulling Regulus to the vacation house that the group rented. 

Regulus thinks he’s starting to like the beach, so long as he’s the one being flirted with.

[jarofstyles]

Sugar, Sugar 13

Hey… sorry it’s been so long angels 😭 here you go!! I hope you missed them as much as I did.

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WC- 3.1k

warnings- mentions of disordered eating and bad relationship with food, body issues, fad diet mention, bad relationship with a parent, body shaming, etc

--------

“So, spill. How was it?” Delilah asked as she eyed Y/N. 

“How was what?” Playing coy behind the counter, she did the initial cash wrap check as she avoided her best friend’s eyes. She knew exactly what she was talking about. 

“Getting railed half to death.” She deadpanned, making Y/N choke on her laughter. “Don’t play games with me, girl. I can see your literal glow.” She paused, her eyes moving south. “And your man has a nasty habit of biting you.” He did. Y/N knew exactly where the hickey was on her collarbone, but her wrap she had on over her lacy tank top usually hid it. She was just careless this morning and didn’t think about it being on display. 

“He is quite bad with that, isn’t he?” She snorted, turning to her friend with giddy light in her eyes. “Great. Better than I expected. Made me really comfortable and I spent the whole night and day.. Y’know.” Her face felt hot as she placed the cash into the register before starting up the POS and making sure everything would be right for when the day ended. “I was worried for nothing. The man is kinda unreal, if I’m being honest. I was taken care of in every way. I shouldn’t be surprised considering he’s been really good to me so far.” Brushing her hair over her shoulder, the drawer was closed and she took note of her green tea, picking it up for a sip now that it wouldn’t burn her tongue. 

“It’s what you deserve.” Her friend smiled softly. “You deserve a great love like you read about in your books. Besides, I know you’re going to get it. It’s written in the stars.” She was joking, but also… not really. Delilah knew things without knowing how she knew them, and it was almost always true. “Where is he today? Are we expecting a drop in from him?”

“Actually, I don’t know.” Y/N hummed. He hadn’t replied after his initial good morning message but she wasn’t too worried about it. “He said something about stopping by the bakery. He had today off to go run errands so he’ll be dropping things off but I know I’m seeing him tomorrow. We’re going to that new pizza place.” She was excited about that. There was a flatbread she was looking forward to trying, and Harry had suggested getting two different things and splitting it. It was nice to feel comfortable eating with someone. That was one of the anxiety triggers she had to unlearn as she got older. 

“I think we’re going to get a drop in.” Taking one of the baskets they used for restocks, she went towards the tumble table and began to deposit the little baggies of colorful stones and minerals into the correct cubbies. “Have you brought up that Claire woman yet?”

Y/N hadn’t, very well for a reason. She didn’t like the feeling it gave her stomach. Somehow, she was well aware she and Harry had been involved. Somehow, someway. It didn’t seem strong, as she obviously couldn’t be that close to him anymore if she’s unable to contact him but… It still wasn’t a good feeling. The woman wasn’t nice, her energy was rancid and muddy, and she obviously looked down on them for believing in their own thing. That was the exact person she tried to avoid. Y/N knew it was perhaps rude to judge solely off of one interaction, but something told her Harry wouldn’t be happy to hear about her coming in. 

“Not yet.” She said sheepishly, spooning a bit of yogurt into her mouth. “I know, you don’t have to give me the eyebrow. I’m just… You know how it is. When you know it’s going to cause an issue.” Y/N didn’t think it would be with her but the idea of upsetting Harry at all wasn’t something she enjoyed. Being so new in the relationship, she wanted that honeymoon stage. It had been so lovely this far, she selfishly wanted to avoid the past and the real world from inserting themselves in her rose colored daydream with her dreamy new boyfriend. 

Unfortunately, that wasn’t how life worked. 

“Putting it off isn’t doing either of you any favors, Cher.” She gave her another look, hanging up a necklace back on the display. “I trust you to handle it on your own time, but do it soon. I have a feeling she isn’t done sniffing around yet.”

—--

“Hey.” A wide smile greeted her as she heard the chime of the bells on the door, seeing the man that had been on her mind. High waisted black pants with a flare at the bottom and a yellow tee shirt, he walked in with his boots clicking on the hardwood floor. Lifting his sunglasses off his face into his fluffy hair, he extended his arms to motion for her to walk into them. She did so without a question. How could she not? 

Falling into his warm scent, she nuzzled her face into his neck and allowed herself to be engulfed in him. Something about them felt closer now. More intimate. Maybe she was making it up but a layer had been shed and he felt even more close to her soul. Lips pecked a few times into her hair, swaying her back and forth as her fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, a relieved sigh leaving the man. “Y’alright, Sugar?”

“Mhm.” She nodded against him. “Tired. Spilled my coffee a quarter through but it’s been a bit busy today so we haven’t had the chance to get away. You win some, you lose some.” She’d rather be a little tired and making money, giving readings, all of that. 

“Should have texted me.” His tongue clicked, finally getting a good look at her as she pulled out of his neck. Didn’t she realize he’d do almost anything for her? “Would have brought you some over, sweets. What good is having a boyfriend if you’re not gonna use me?” He was joking, but not really. He knew that he’d bend over backwards for the girl in his arms. 

“In all honesty, I didn’t even think about it. I knew you were busy today running errands and we had a lot of walk in readings, I’ve been a little busy.” Her fingers ran through his hair again, liking how it felt between them. He always melted like a pup getting pets when she did it too, so it was a win win. “Did you get everything done that you needed?”

“I did.” He moved on swiftly. “Are you sayin’ you didn’t eat?” His brow raised, making her wince. Sometimes she forgot, but it wasn’t on purpose. It was genuine distraction. “Baby…” 

“I had a yogurt and granola bar. I was planning on making some food when I got home, but I was busy. Promise.” She tried her luck at a pout which luckily seemed to break down the glare. 

“Too bad.” He sighed. “M’gonna run and get you both food. I don’t like this, Sugar.” Large hands cupped her face, making her feel more delicate than she ever had been. Sometimes it felt hard to lean into that femininity of delicacy when she’d been treated as the opposite most of her life, but Harry had her falling into it so easily. “I know you’re a big girl and you can handle yourself, but it’s okay to ask me for help. I want to help you, I want to be a good boyfriend and grab your things when you’re busy. I know you’d do the same for me.” She already had. The girl had given him a whole welcome basket when he opened his own business, for fucks sake. 

“I know. It’s…” Feeling slightly guilty now, she rested her hands on his wrists. “It’s a hard habit to break. I’ve been independent for years now and I don’t like to rely on people.” It was always thrown back in her face. “I’ll try harder, H. Promise.” Turning her head, she caught his palm with her lips and pressed kisses to it. That move melted him completely, leaning down to kiss her lips a few times before peeling himself away. 

“Good girl. I’ll be back in a bit. Be good for me.”

Y/N hated to see him go, but she loved to watch him leave. Still buzzing from the affection, she jumped as Delilah came out of the back room fanning herself. 

“That man is completely gone for you. Lord…” She shook her head. “What a guy. I’m glad he wants to take care of you, Cher. You deserve it.” Her hand squeezed her shoulder as she slipped past her. 

“It has nothing to do with the fact he’s getting you lunch too?” She snickered, watching her friend shrug. 

“That definitely helps.”

—--

Y/N’s good mood was squashed just 10 minutes later when a familiar face walked through the shop doors, nose wrinkling at the scent of the incense. 

God, why now? 

“Y/N, I’ve told you that these smoky scents are going to drive away customers.”

Yeah, that was the point. Drive away customers with impure intentions. 

“Hi, Mother.” Y/N sighed, feeling her shoulders tighten as she watched the woman come closer into the shop. Her tumultuous relationship with her mother had a lot to do with the fact that Y/N reminded her of her own. They’d been extremely close, sharing their love of the spiritual world, of magic, all the things while her mom had rejected it. Y/N had been easier to bond with for her grandmother and she knew she held resentment over it for years. 

She wasn’t an awful person, was the thing. She liked to support her at school, took her shopping for makeup, taught her how to do her hair and tie her shoes. She held her when she was sick, stuck up for her when she got bullied- but she didn’t realize she herself was her daughter’s first and biggest bully. 

“Hello. It’s been weeks since you’ve visited me or your father.” She sent her a look. “Are you well? Do you need money? I know the shop is a bit of a hard venture to keep up…” 

There it was. Her mother had always hated this shop. Hated what it stood for, what it represented. Y/N never faulted or judged someone for not believing or being connected in the things she was. It was a calling, she truly believed, whether natural or brought on by a life event. But her mother thought it to be a bit of a waste of time. Always expecting her downfall, though she didn’t think she was cruel enough to hope for it. 

“No, we’re actually doing incredibly well.” It was the truth. They were making bigger profits than the years before and she was more than glad about that. They’d paid off the loan they took out and now they were working towards a possible expansion. But her mom didn’t want to hear about that. “I’m sorry I haven’t been around. I’ve been a bit busy.” 

Her mom gave her a scrutinizing eye, unsure if she believed her. Y/N wasn’t usually a busy person, despite the shop. She liked a slower lifestyle and she knew that, which is why she understood the look on her face. “Have you gone back to the gym like I asked? I haven’t seen you there. I can go with you, you know. I think you’d love my trainer. He’s very dedicated.”

There it was again. Y/N felt her stomach drop, though she should have expected it. Her mother was obsessed with her weight. She’d been the one to try and get her on diets at an early age, effectively ruining her relationship with food. While she knew her mother was someone who cared about her, sometimes she cared about the wrong things a bit too much. Once Y/N had made peace with the fact that she’d always be a bigger girl, her mother had pushed back at it causing more of a rift. She wasn’t going along with her plans and fad diets anymore, and it felt like a personal insult. 

“No, no. I’ve been busy with something else, actually.” With Harry. The pretty, driven, thoughtful man that had her tummy in knots and her head in the clouds. 

“Well, what? I’ve sent you dozens of recipes. I doubt you’ve tried them though. It looks like you’ve put on a bit of weight in the last few weeks. I thought you were making progress.” Her frown made Y/N’s stomach hurt. She’d resigned herself into knowing she would probably never get her mother’s approval on her body, but the reminders didn’t do much to make her feel good. Accepting it didn’t mean liking it. 

“I may have. I’ve been fine, though.” She sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I’ll come by for dinner next week, I promise. I just-”

The door chimed again, interrupting them both. Her stomach dropped as she saw Harry’s smiling face, something that usually would make her erupt into butterflies- but this wasn’t the introduction she wanted to make. Not quite yet. 

“I’m back, sorry. There was a line.” He murmured, going behind the desk and pressing a kiss to her cheek. Her body flushed as she looked towards her mother, her eyes wide as Harry adjusted her hair for her before setting the food bag and coffee tray on the counter. “Sorry, I’ll step out of the way if you’re helping someone.”

“Who’s this?” Her mother’s interest was immediately evident. 

“I’m Harry, Y/N’s boyfriend. Nice t’meet you. What’s your name?” He asked, placing a hand on his girlfriend’s back. 

“H, this is my mother.” Y/N swallowed, looking between the two of them. She could see his eyes widen, reaching a hand out for her to shake. He was always so polite, so charming, but she couldn’t help but see the look on her mom’s face. 

“You’re her boyfriend?” She asked, brows raised. Her voice sounded in disbelief, looking between the two of them as if something didn’t add up. “I didn’t know she even had a boyfriend.” 

Thankfully she’d let him know she hadn’t exactly told her yet so he didn’t seem shocked about that, but the meeting was a little unorthodox. 

His brows did furrow at her tone and she could tell he didn’t like it. But for her sake he kept a smile on his face, shaking the woman’s hand lightly. “Yes, I am. M’quite gone for her. You raised an incredible woman, Ma’am.” He spoke earnestly. 

“Excuse my shock, I just didn’t realize….” She trailed off, still seeming confused. “Y/N does like her secrets, it seems. You’re very handsome. What do you do?” It was likeher mother to be nosy, sniffing out why exactly the man was around her daughter. Y/N could see that she was suspicious and it hurt her because she knew exactly why she was. 

She was making sure he wasn’t using her for another reason. For money or something else, because it was hard for her to believe a man as attractive as him would be with her for pure attraction and chemistry. 

“I actually own the bakery across the street.” He said easily. “Thank you for the compliment. She’s an incredible woman, so welcoming and kind. Beautiful to boot.” He meant every word, tapping the tip of her nose. “I don’t want to interrupt, though… I brought the girls lunch.” 

“Oh, it’s not trouble. I was coming because my daughter forgets she has a phone.” She shot her a look. “Why don’t you come to dinner next week with her? You’re more than welcome. Her father would be more than happy to meet you.” 

“If it’s alright with Y/N, I will.” He nodded, showing his loyalty immediately. Harry wouldn’t do anything that made his girl uncomfortable and he was dedicated to the cause. He was already unsure about the woman, but the next words solidified it for him. 

“Alright, whatever you decide. Just make sure she doesn’t have too many sweets from your bakery, hm? It’s starting to show again.” She was joking as if it was funny, patting her daughter’s hand before stepping back. “I hope to see you next week, Harry. Call me, Y/N, we have much to discuss.” 

Her mother was swift, walking out the door as quickly as she had come in. As soon as she was gone, the energy calmed and her shoulders fell, groaning low in her throat as she moved to hide her face in Harry’s chest again. He knew better than to talk, instead stroking over her hair as he let her recover from that interaction. 

Internally though, his view on her mother was soured. How dare she make a comment to not only her daughter about that, but to him? A man she was dating and obviously really liked her? Did she not realize how awful it was to comment on something like that? Y/N had told him that her relationship with her mother had been a weird one but he hadn’t expected her to say something cruel like that. It didn’t even seem to register that she was being mean, she genuinely seemed to think it was funny. 

“I’m sorry about that.” She sighed, pulling back from his chest. “She’s… she’s a lot. I promise she isn’t all bad, but she’s got quirks.” Her face pulled in a slight grimace, making him smile sadly at her as he caressed her warm cheek. 

“That wasn’t nice to say, but I have a feeling it isn’t something you want t’unpack in the middle of a work day.” It wasn’t something he felt could be properly discussed out here anyways. “We can talk about it tomorrow, if you want…but I just have to say this one thing.” His head dipped to get closer to hers. “I don’t mind if you gain or lose weight. I don’t care about that at all so long as you’re healthy and comfortable. I’ll never restrict you from eating, never make you feel as though you’re too much. I know you struggle with it, but I’m never going to contribute to that. I’m here to support you.” 

His words were genuine, eyes shining as he told her his truth. She could feel it radiating off of him and it made her want to tear up, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply to that before he smacked a kiss to her nose and pulled back to open the paper bag that had been stapled shut. “But now I want you to tell me if I did a good job choosing your meal, please. I did the caramel coffee with oat milk, iced. I remembered that bit.” 

Y/N wasn’t sure where the hell Harry had come from, but she was thankful for whoever had sent him. It seemed like she needed him now more than ever.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 7)

Howdy! Welcome to part 7! I'm happy you're here! Thank you all again for showing this series the love and support you all have. I appreciate you all so much, and I hope you're all finding new favorites to add to your own collections.

Apologies for the delay in getting this part to you. To be honest, it's just been too fucking hot for me lately, so I've been spending less time at my computer and more time splayed out, letting the wind blow upon me. I'm a spicy bitch on an average day, but it's been 100+ degrees here on average for the past week and a half with the heat is showing no signs of going away anytime soon. So there may end up being bigger gaps between updates (like the one you just experienced) than I maintained previously. Fair warning.

Okay, that's all from me today. Let's get into, lovelies!

Smoochies and squeezies!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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and the questions of heaven, for a sinner like me by doxa (G | 1/1 | 1,346)

“I'm Loki, son of Laufey,” Stiles chants. “And I'm going to burn down the world.”

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many beacons in the sea by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 1,479)

Stiles has known all his life that he’s not like other kids. He’s special.

“It’s alright, love,” his mom says, leaning over him at night when he can’t sleep because his legs hurt so bad. “Just let it hurt.”

She kisses his forehead. He dreams of the sea. They go to the beach that weekend.

*

Stiles is a siren. He’s an anomaly, until he isn’t.

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Now when we're old by orphan_account (NR | 1/1 | 2,431)

Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older. Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears.

We all know how their lives together began, but how did it end.

Believe it or not the ending is kinda happy.

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the secrets in our blood by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 5,433)

//He’d never meant for it to go this far.

He really, honest to god hadn't. Like, okay, it's not like he'd expected a long life, but he'd at least hoped he'd have gotten the hell away from Beacon Hills before they found him.//

or, the one where Stiles is a demon and the same hunters who killed his mother (also a demon) find him.

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Wolf Cub by moodwriter (E | 1/1 | 6,946)

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

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The Dark Spark by Reia (E | 1/1 | 7,014)

He knows that Stiles is speaking to his wolf, to that animal inside that thrums with the need to maim and kill and take, take, take and he really shouldn't allow it, he shouldn't.

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but couldn't good be good enough by lazulisong (G | 1/1 | 8,044)

"His dad is probably going to tell Stiles not to hang out with us," says Boyd, taking a sip of his Coke.

Isaac gives Derek an utterly betrayed look, and Erica glares at him. "I told you not to wear those sunglasses!" she hisses.

"What if Stiles can't hang out with us any more?" says Isaac wretchedly. "What if Scott doesn't want to hang out with us because --"

"I said those were pedophile sunglasses!" says Erica, in a quiet, piercing whisper that makes Derek's ears hurt.

Boyd continues eating his gyro, which he has laid out on a plate like a salad on a piece of flatbread, methodically picking out the tomatoes, feta and lamb and laying them to the side to eat after the lettuce. Boyd would eat his gyro if there was a bomb going off.

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The House in the Middle by afullrevolution (2 works | G-T | 8,569)

1. Battle not with monsters (T | 3/3 | 7,590) Stiles laughed. Laughed because he understood what Nietzsche had been writing about. Because hunters were clearly monsters for all they claimed to battle them. Because Stiles had looked into the abyss and the abyss was staring straight back. 2. To Grandmother's House We Go (G | 1/1 | 979) There were always going to be repercussions for everyone involved, and then some.

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Hell to Raise by Mosca (E | 1/1 | 12,543)

Stiles is the last in a long line of pagan priests. Of course, the god in question is a sarcastic trickster who mostly just wants him to get laid. Of course.

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No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (T | 1/1 | 14,207)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

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Hand of the Devil by shiny_starlight (M | 1/1 | 14,669)

For years, Hale and his family had escaped justice, but the day of reckoning had come. His comfortable life was about to come crashing down about his ears and Adrian was going to relish every single second of it.

Mob!AU. Derek is the head of the Hale Family, and Detective Adrian Harris is determined to bring him to justice, whatever means necessary.

Warning: Contains past!non-cannonical character death and non graphic description of injuries. Contains cannon character death.

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Do What I Dare series by FunkyinFishnet (3 works | T-M | 15,532)

Stiles has always known he prefers to wear women's clothing. He learns that the people who matter want him to be happy too.

1. Make No Conditions (M | 1/1 | 8,557) Stiles has always known that he prefers wearing female clothing, but not many people in his life know. He makes friends with drag queens, goes shopping with Lydia and Allison, and tries to work out if and when he can ever tell Derek about his wardrobe. Will Derek want all of him? Of course, it turns out that Lydia is right all along, about everything. 2. Get A Little Outta Line (M | 1/1 | 4,444) Stiles talks down a rival pack's Alpha, tells his Dad about werewolves, is confronted by Chris Argent, and communicates enjoyably without words with Derek. It's pretty awesome altogether. 3. Scent Of A Woman And A Man (T | 1/1 | 2,531) Stiles and his Mom love perfume. Stiles carries that love into his teenage years and once he and Derek become close, he finds he's not the only one obsessed with scents.

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Actual Puppy Derek Hale by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone) (T | 1/1 | 18,162)

Derek didn't know what was worse: the hunters, being trapped as a wolf, being hit by a car, or the fact that he had somehow become some kid's pet dog for the unforeseeable future.

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Der Yingl fun Erd un Blitz (The Boy of Earth and Lightning) by sofonisba_found (T | 3/3 | 18,741)

Miriam and John Stilinski had always wanted to have children. But when her illness prevented her from giving birth, and every conventional alternative option to raise a child was denied to them, they had to look for an...unconventional method. One that would give them a child that was himself far from ordinary in so many ways.

And soon after, in the town of Beacon Hills, a young werewolf named Derek begins to notice the scent of something different from anything he had ever known before in the air...

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Certain and Unsure series by dedougal (2 works | M-E | 20,475)

1. Make It Up As We Go Along (E | 1/1 | 11,388) Stiles was not expecting to find a baby on the kitchen table at Derek's. Not at all. 2. Left to Trust (M | 1/1 | 9,087)

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With The Hush of My Lips, I Wholly Confound The Skeptic by Unknown (M | 6/6 | 27,249)

My contribution to the Teen Wolf Big!Big:

It’s honestly his dad’s worst nightmare.

And it’s not like the doctors never told them that it could be hereditary, what his mother died of. They had. It’s just, after such a tragic thing like her dying had happened, they hadn’t thought anything could ever be worse.

Until they had found that stupid abnormality in Stiles’ stomach.

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The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down by otter (T | 10/10 | 30,493)

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

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Of Love and Fairness series by JTHM_Michi (4 works | G-T | 38,833)

Life isn't fair and sometimes when people mean well they react without knowing all the facts. Families are a deep cavern of secrets and lies and the Stilinski family isn't different than any other. When the Alpha Pack came to Beacon Hills, they brought death with them and in the fallout, Stiles was kicked out and his father got a new child and a new wife. This is a story about life and family and all the hard things from both. Alls fair in love and war?

1. We Meet Again (T | 1/1 | 16,320) When Stiles was 17, the Sheriff kicked him out because the Alpha Pack was getting to be too dangerous for the newest additions to the Stilinski household. Now, eleven years later, Stiles is about to come face to face with his once kid step-sister and be forced to deal with this fact. Is it possible to forgive and forget? 2. But With A Whimper (G | 1/1 | 6,704) Rebecca Stilinski learns to deal with the reveal that her father simply isn't the person she grew up thinking he was. And how is it possibly fair that Stiles can have this wonderful life and his father still condemns him as some sort of shady character from a crime drama? The sequel to 'We Meet Again'. 3. Magic Musings (G | 1/1 | 6,274) Lydia has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way. 4. Look The Other Way (G | 5/5 | 9,535) The small snippets from my "Of Love and Fairness" verse, including but not limited to: The original confrontation between Stiles and his father over the Sheriff's abandonment of Stiles in the past; A small glimpse of Derek and Stiles' wedding; and a meeting between Lydia and the Sheriff. And really anything else from this verse that I wrote that didn't make it into any of the bigger pieces. It would be better to read the other parts of this verse before this one.

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Dirty paws and furry coats by queerly_it_is (E | 1/1 | 57,621)

Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.

[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

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Indelible Marks by billtheradish (M | 87/87 | 275,695)

The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)

Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...

(This story is now out of buffer, but I will always announce when the next update will be, and am trying to keep to a regular posting schedule. Also, please be advised that this is essentially a rough draft. That doesn't mean it's riddled with typos, every chapter is edited, just that the overarching plot and side stories haven't had a chance to be edited in full yet--but they will be. An edited version of this story will be posted eventually, so if the current length isn't your cup of tea, just come back later.)

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[dollfaced-erin]

𝔻𝕣𝕒𝕘𝕠𝕟'𝕤 ℂ𝕣𝕒𝕕𝕝𝕖 (Blade x F!Reader x Jing Yuan)

PART 17

PART 1 , PART 2 , PART 3 , PART 4 , PART 5 , PART 6 , PART 7 , PART 8 , PART 9 , PART 10 , PART 11 , PART 12 , PART 13 , PART 14 , PART 15 , PART 16

A/n :

i have JUST finished Penacony, and i have to say, THAT WAS A WILD RIDE FR HELP ?!?! i did NOT expect it to end that way. Okok, hear me out, you might cancel me or whatever, but opinions are opinions right, and i LOVE how they made Sparkle some little gremlin that REALLY knows how to flame people good. ye ye i know about the things happening on twitter, but push that aside. that's merely a reference. all in all, the races in the game still dont exist. and getting mad at a fictional VILLAIN is somewhat hilarious to me ngl...i never even SAW the racism until i watched tiktok. my eyes. anything on tiktok is like...corrupting my brain rn and i hope your fyps are favoring you all too ! But still. We're all humans and we all have our opinions. so dont start messing around and bullshitting people online youre never gonna meet, okay ?

Taglist : -

@rebeccawinters , @nayukiyukihira , @pix-stuff , @fluffy-koalala , @swivy123 , @starxao , @kaoyamamegami , @kimura-uzuri , @rsvye , @seikouryuu , @just-here-reading , @matsulovesyou, @sincerely-aaronette , @prettyliliy , @chibiduck , @hermosacolibri , @la-diablas-thingz , @farelady-fate , @everi-eve , @shadowfoxey , @helloyuki , @immahuman , @samptlay , @boomie-123

Back then, he was only a young man, staring up at the starskiffs that flew by in the sky. He looked no older than a mere teen, but as a Xianzhou native, looks are VERY deceiving. Even for someone as young as Jing Yuan.

The young man looked up at the sky, his adolescence was only peaking up back then. But even so, he was a splendid Cloud Knight, already the climbing up the ranks to be a Sword Champion like his master. Though she had shielded him from much the horrors she had faced when she was a mere child, she tried her best to raise her student as her very own.

He remembered seeing his friends earlier, during the crowning of Jingliu as the Legendary Sword Master, entitling her with the nickname transcendent flash due to her movements that had seemingly cut through time and space within a blink of an eye. They all came around, wanting to congratulate her.

There was the legendary craftsmen, though hailing from another land and being a short-lived species, he had come to present to her the sword made of alien material, shining ebony matte black even under the bright sun. And not far behind him, was the Imbibator Lunae, coming over adorned with his robes of silk and jewelry of jade. Then, there was the mischievous Baiheng who roamed across the stars and set to stay on the Luofu.

But clinging to the sleeve of the High Elder of the Xianzhou Luofu, like a little lost girl, though he was sure that she was most likely just a couple decades younger than the Imbibator Lunae himself. And with the glaucous horns perched atop her head, he knew that she was inevitably the relative of this royal dragon before him, the one they called Saltator Lunae.

She was a beautiful young woman, with bright, curious (e/c) eyes that shone with wonder for the world. Her silky (h/c) hair was held up with a beautiful hairpin made of glass that seemed to be sturdier than plain ceramic he saw the nobles wear. But it matched her innocent look, and it seemed to him that she had yet to see more of the outside world.

He saw her for a mere glimpse, and she seemed to be talking to either her brother, or Yingxing the craftsman who seemed to be very much absorbed into his conversation with her. The middle-aged man even seemed to adore the young woman.

'Cute...' he remembered thinking as he saw her.

It was hot that day, and he was just fresh after training. But after remembering his master's swordsmanship, he quickly got back up, grabbing the sword he used to train, and went on with his practice. There was still much to learn, much to face before he could even dream of being half the person his master was.

"Jing Yuan, meet Imbibator Lunae's younger sister. Saltator Lunae." Jingliu said, appearing seemingly out of nowhere, as he was in the middle of training.

And he saw her again, from a much closer distance. The pretty girl from the other day, this time with an intricate hand fan in her hold, closed. This time she seemed much more...reserved ? Was it because her brother wasn't around ?

"Huh ? Sister ?"

"Yes, she'll be training with you. Other than Cloudhymn magic, she wants to learn about forming wind and water together to form ice. It doesn't hurt to learn more, especially from someone with core differences like you, Jing Yuan."

"Ah..." sighed the General as he shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts. He chuckled softly, looking at the item in his hand, which was a small decorative hand fan.

It was a beautiful oriental fan, with intricate designs carefully inked and dyed with care and professional handling. And it was no ordinary fan, instead it was a beautiful silk fan that he had seen her hold on the day they first met....

And was entrusted to him by Dan Feng who loved his sister very much before he had to part from this world.

The fan just...was just a reminder of what sunny days he blindly lived through, never anticipating the position he'd assume current day...

"General ?" A young voice piped up, snapping him out of his dampened mood.

The General turned to see his retainer by his side, peering cautiously at the fan in his master's hand, knowing that it must've belonged to someone of position and status. Especially since the wood forming it was no ordinary slice, but rather elaborately detailed to the smallest feature.

"Yes, Yanqing ?" He responded back, the lazy cat-grin on his lips as his golden eyes met one he considered his son.

"Lady Fu Xuan has given signal that she has deployed the anomaly team towards the suspected location of the Plagues Author's devotees." Yanqing said, the young boy nodding his head to signal to his master something.

"Thank you, Yanqing. It is time for me to depart, and reunite with the princess herself face to face. I cannot have the Ace of the deck be pulled out before its time." Jing Yuan said as he placed the fan onto the table, and rose to his feet.

"An...ace of the deck...?" Yanqing asked, cocking up an eyebrow as he suspiciously eyed the General of the Xianzhou Luofu.

"Yes. One of the keys in saving the Xianzhou itself." Jing Yuan said, giving no room for his retainer to further impose on his agenda.

"Now, Yanqing. I will be leaving to coincide with the Master Diviner's troupes, and those stationed in the Alchemy Commission." Jing Yuan said with that same smirk plastered on his lips.

"Do not lay your foot in a trap laid down by yourself, lest you be the hunted instead of the hunter." Was Jing Yuan's final warning before he walked off to leave the Seat of Divine Foresight.

But what he didn't know was that his little apprentice had been exposed to the sights of the legendary without either of them noticing it. And this youngling was very much eager to try his new profound knowledge in bringing justice to the land he served.

Though the General had yet just finished another meeting with the Master Diviner, even issued her with the official warrant to temporarily command the Cloud Knights, it was clear that things were far from over now. Affairs on the Xianzhou Luofu this time wouldn't be so easily averted, not with the interference of outsider hands in this matter.

He shook his head as he remembered the contents of the earlier discussion with Fu Xuan earlier. He remembered the troubled face of (Y/n) who had not dared utter a word as he issued another errand for the Astral express team to run.

He remembered his own words, spoken with his regular slyness and his lax tone in order to conceal what he truly felt inside...

"Miss Tingyun, I would like you to continue to serve as a guide for our Astral friends. And Lady (Y/n)..." he said, trailing off as he turned to look at her.

She looked...troubled. Biting her lower lip was a habit she had built long back during the prime era of the High-Cloud Quintet. Not only did she look troubled, she also seemed quite...saddened. Perhaps...it was the memories that surged her, or even the weight of her duties to reseal the Ambrosial Arbor. And everyone knows that...Lady (Y/n) isn't quite complete in herself...

"I hope you understand the importance of your presence within this mission. I am sure that the team will be able to safely escort you through the paths, and guide you safely to the Alchemy Commission."

He had once again broken the rules and regulations of the Luofu. With the next task he issued...was to get the Astral Express team towards the Ambrosial Arbor through the Alchemy Commission's delve. It was a hard decision, knowing the routes they needed to pass through were heavily infested and affected by the growth of the Ambrosial Arbor and it would be increasingly dangerous for (Y/n) to continue venturing along.

But he had no other choice yet in this matter. She was the King piece in this chessboard. Though her Queen piece...was nowhere in sight.

But he knew that man would appear sooner or later. Along with the young prince, who served the missing half of the current king's severed power.

He just hoped she was faring well.

"Phew ! That deer sure was a tough one !" March said, a relieved smile on her lips after the team had departed from the Alchemy Commission and saying good by to a certain...Furnace Master.

"Quite a deer friend indeed." Replied her companion, Stelle, who earned a tired groan from March due to her pathetic excuse of making jokes.

"But Lady (Y/n)..." March said, looking at the woman who was walking ahead of them, her back turned towards the team. Robes of expensive silk fluttered in the wind behind her, light shining off the material. Her (h/c) swayed in the wind, giving off nothing but an air of royalty.

But despite her ice cold gaze...everyone saw how shocked she looked when Gongshu had introduced himself as the Furnace of Creation's master. The woman was silent, merely staring at the man before her, uttering not a word. But she bit her lip, as a way to prevent herself from saying more than she should.

Then there was the deer, the Ebon Deer that was nothing but an abomination. Colors of blue, gold and green, representing life, vitality and wealth. A beautiful yet horrifying mix of colors forever ingrained in her mind.

"Are you alright, Lady (Y/n) ?" Welt asked, making sure that the young woman behind her was faring well.

Fighting against the Ebon Deer was hard work, at it seemed that even (Y/n) had trouble against it before they dispelled the outer source of power it was extracting from the power of Abundance.

He watched her horrified reaction as it withered and yet regained its former state, almost as if she were haunted by the extremes of power an Aeon can possess...

Or perhaps were those the same eyes of the people who fought in the War of Abundance...? The eyes that witnessed fear and loss time and time again. Maybe...perhaps even those eyes were included in the horrors of the abominations.

Powers of the Vidyadhara were nothing short of the definition of power itself, but she struggled to face it off, as if having second thoughts while fighting, or even extending the period of fighting just to conduct a couple observations and conclude a couple thoughts.

This woman...was trying to learn something. Gain an insight, perhaps...?

Even as Welt was making his own observations and conclusions regarding the change of paths from the Abundance to the Hunt, (Y/n) stood away from them, deep in her own circle of thought.

"I...am alright." Said the regal lady, dusting of the sleeves of her dress. It was tough, but she knew there was more to come, especially with the warning Jing Yuan had discretely yet undoubtedly been trying to relay to her.

Her presence was playing a crucial part in this play of his.

Did that mean...she had to meet...his reincarnation...?

Jing Yuan had never told her what had become past the period of molting rebirth. But did she really want to know...?

"It's just...that deer..." she said softly, shaking her head. "Reminded me of someone."

The man she loved, falling at the hand of the abundance, due to some...forbidden ritual they were trying to pursue. And he too...began one of the Abundance. Healing time after time, without even having a say in his own life.

The woman looked back to meet the gaze of her worried companions. All sorts of gazes landed on her form, pity, worry, concern, understanding...she appreciated them all, but...

"That's enough. We should keep going. The Alchemy Commission...shouldn't be far from here now..." said the dragon lady before she turned on her heel to leave the scene.

Right...there was no need to say anymore. Words...could not convey the feeling of loss she felt etched deep inside her heart. Nor did the memories even fulfil the void that grew day by day, with a certain longing for times of old to resurge...

Through the gates of the Artisanship Commission, it led the team straight towards the Alchemy Commission, a delve where all the medicinal and healing practices were carried out. It was the perfect place for concocting medicines out of herbs and materials of rare items to treat unknown diseases, or a place to jot down prescription after prescription while attending to the endless stream of natives that need the attention of professionals.

Some came here to learn, and some came here to help others. But ultimately, the desire of all here was one, to make the Xianzhou Luofu more prosperous and longevous than it ever was.

But this place...was also the same place for dubious plans to be carried out. With the high-tech equipment, materials only those in the alchemy would be able to obtain, should the Luofu fall into peril, this...would no doubt be their lair.

(Y/n) led the team into the commission, walking past the walls that were once so familiar to her. Though it has been centuries, this place...was almost as same as it used to be back when she was in her prime, looking over the apprentices like a protective mother watching her eggs.

Bodies of the mara-struck, celestial bodies and the Cloud Knights littered the stone ground left and right, for as far as the eye can see. It was no doubt that a fierce war had indeed taken place within these walls, no time to reach out for help since the delve had been sealed off, and the commission was deemed to be deserted.

"Whoa, looks like the battle here was intense..." March said, the poor girl looking around the blood-bathed battlefield with fear and horror in her young eyes. Her hands were to her mouth, almost in disbelief with what had occurred here.

Tingyun sighed, looking behind her to meet the gaze of the young girl. "Looks like the Master Diviner had launched a campaign while we were delayed in the Artisanship Commission."

"She must've divined it at the right time..." responded the usually silent Stelle, only ever opening her mouth to let out the most unheard of jokes (Y/n)'s pointed ears had heard of, or to say something incredibly out of character.

"Seems like she had sent in the Cloud Knights to clear out the way before we arrived. It would've been dreadfully dangerous had she let us in without proper preparation and training like the knights." (Y/n) said, her sharp and luminescent eyes scanning the area, the scene before her like flowers wilted on the ground.

But this...was nothing compared to the flooding blood rivers she had witnessed as a young maiden. Should things continue as they are...well...the Luofu would be drenched in mixed blood once again.

But unlike last time. She would do everything in her power to stop from memories of the past haunt and overshadow her future, refusing it to take shape it once took form as.

She wouldn't dare dream of losing another person dear to her.

Not the warm and kind-hearted General that had embraced her with loving arms the moment her eyes had revealed itself to the world. Not when she had to let go of her lover that remembered so little of her yet yearned for their long lost intimate moments.

Back then...she had so much to lose. And this time was no different.

She just hoped...that his reincarnation was doing well somewhere.

Welt noticed the unease in (Y/n)'s gaze. Being the attentive man he was, riddled with experience and written with history of a distant land, he knew better than to outright voice his concern over the Dragon Lady.

"Time is of the essence. The most important task for the Xianzhou Luofu is suppressing the Stellaron." Said the brunette, his arms crossing over his chest as he too observed the concluded battlefield before him. "General Jing Yuan tasked the Master Diviner with commanding the Cloud Knights-- he would've known she'd act on the results of her divination."

"Maybe that's why they sent us through the Artisanship Commission. To avoid direct contact with the battlefield. It is too dangerous for us here. If fighting the Ebon Deer was already breaking more than our usual threshold, imagine actually engaging in a real battle." (Y/n) said softly, looking sad at the loss before her.

"But...that's out of your scope." She whispered, walking towards one of the knights to check on their conditions.

"Lady (Y/n)..." March said worriedly, and Tingyun looked a little...somber at the Dragon Lady had returned back to her post as the Miracle Healer.

"This...must be hard for Lady (Y/n) to see." Tingyun said softly, shaking her head. "As I remember records...the past Dragon Lady was someone of immense caliber and knowledge, having pulled strings no one dared to interfere with."

"But this is nothing compared to what she had seen back in her days. Centuries ago, an Emanator of Abundance besieged the Luofu with the aim of the Ambrosial Arbor. They destroyed half our delves and killed most of the Cloud Knights." Tingyun said, looking up at the sky, perhaps wondering what the sky looked like when the ground was bathed in red.

"For long-life species, such events are more like yesterday's memories rather than ancient history. This awful spectacle is child's play in comparison to what they've seen and been through."

"It's...hard to tell if the Master Diviner won or lost here." Welt said with a heavy sigh, that was until (Y/n) walked back, her (e/c) clouded with regret and shame.

"There...are many losses here. I might be able to restore and patch some up, but...it would be too dangerous for me to venture further alone without back up." (Y/n) said, her eyes never leaving the fallen soldiers. "If only Yingxing and..."

She cut herself short, her thoughts snapping back to prevent herself from saying anymore of those forsaken memories of old. She shook her head and cleared her throat, as if to regain composure.

"Nevermind." She said sharply. "There aren't many Cloud Knights here, so I reckon there's a retreat nearby, or maybe they really did make it out with a minimal count of casualties. Deeper into the delve, perhaps."

"Will you try heal those here, Lady (Y/n) ?" Tingyun asked the horned woman before her, noticing her determined gaze. And (Y/n) nodded. "I'll...try my best. I'm a healer, a doctor even, or whoever I used to be, but I'm not miracle granter."

"Please be careful, Lady (Y/n), Stelle. These monsters seem pretty tough..." March warned carefully, fearing the safety of her companions and the lady they were meant to escort safely.

(Y/n) leaned down to inspect the wounds on one of the soldiers that seemed to have been ridden with mara, rooted deep inside its body. As she scanned the figure with her sharp eyes, she noticed how this individual...a woman, perhaps in her early 300s...was far too deep in mara.

Mara was plaguing her body like flies eating away at rotting flesh. Slow, constant, but unbearable. The wounds were shrinking away beyond a usual native's ability, and with the lack of injured vital signs, (Y/n) knew it was best for her to try freeze the cores and quickly move away.

So that was as she did. To those still blessed with life, she leaned down to bestow them the gift of her healing, hoping that they would be able to be to at least endure less pain than they should. She even froze cores, wishing that it was enough to prevent the rapid outbreak of the plague, harming others beyond control.

She knew...those mara struck before her...had their regrets and their ambitions to see another day. She knew another person who was just the same, bringing flesh of a fallen Emanator, striking his beloved with a fatal blow, yet he himself was a victim to another's plan who wished to deny the cruel nature of death.

The beloved who once held her hand so tenderly, an arrogant man who was yet so soft towards her, bestowing her with a gentle kiss on her forehead as he held her close by her waist.

(Y/n) looked up, knowing that those days were no more, and the sky above them...was never a witness to the moments she held dear to her frozen and recovering heart. Her heart that was facing conflict and turmoil with her current identity and her past self, knowing both were nonetheless one of the same.

Though she had forgotten most of her past, only bits and shred able to be brought forward to her current time, she knew it was time for her to step up and once again place the crown high on her head, though it weighed so heavily on her shoulders.

"Look ! There's someone over there." March called out, taking (Y/n)'s hand to point towards a woman wearing an Alchemy Commission uniform, and a kneeling Cloud Knight by her feet.

(Y/n) didn't have a good feeling about this.

[ominous-feychild]

Hi, guys. It's me, Barlowe.

No fun aesthetics, none of that. We're addressing the election today.

I never thought I'd be political on my blog—and, in fact, avoided it except for where I really wanted to get things out to everyone, like Project 2025—but circumstances have forced me to step up.

For those who want to see my actual Writeblr intro, you can find it here. This post is getting pinned to my blog for a while.

So, hi. Barlowe here.

I'm an autistic lesbian with health issues I'm too poor to treat.

I'm currently in a relationship with a Mexican-American woman.

My older sister, although we don't really get along, is trans.

I do not care about my relationship with her. What matters is that she is in legitimate danger. Because of the results of the election.

My girlfriend? She's in danger, too. She had people yell and spit at and shove her during Trump's first term, and she had little to nobody she could turn to for help. Like me, she's chock-full of struggles and disabilities. So much so that I almost want to say she's had it even worse than me in that regard.

But I won't be comparing struggles here; that's not the point.

My little sister is still a teenager. She lives in Florida.

As a 13-year-old, she had people call her a slut for wearing a tank top.

A tank top.

It's Florida. It's hot.

She was 13.

Do you know the amount of rage I felt when I heard that?

I'm a nonviolent af grown-ass adult and I wanted to track down those kids to beat them tf up. I wanted to teach them a lesson to never treat my little sister like that again.

But they aren't the source of the problem, do you know that?

The source of the problem is their parents. The media. The internet, and echo chambers full of disgusting, sexist pigs who reduce women—and girls—to nothing more than sex objects for men.

“Grab 'em by the pussy.”

Did we all forget that?

Did we all forget how disgusting that pathetic excuse for a man is?

Did we ignore all of his crimes, all of the things he's done?

Why? Because Harris is a black woman? Because she's mixed? Because she's flawed? Because she didn't deserve to win?

Listen to me.

That's not good enough.

Maybe she didn't deserve to win. But do you know what?

Nor did Trump.

Trump deserves to be IN JAIL.

He's racist, he's xenophobic, he's sexist, a rapist, a homophobe, a convicted felon, and so, so much more.

And yet here we are.

How did millions of people vote a man like that into office?

I would've gone running for the hills at just ONE of those things?

... but that's not the point.

We're here now, except... things aren't quite as clear-cut as we've been led to believe.

There's an interesting saying that goes something like:

“People most often expect from others what they know of themselves.”

And what did Trump most love screaming at the hills?

That the votes of 2020 were rigged.

And he said to “find votes”.

Well, it looks like he found them.

Or, at the very least, he's gotten rid of Democratic ones.

There were bomb threats called in on democratic-leaning polling locations, machines “didn't recognize” ballots, democratic ballots were rejected for inane reasons, and ballots were burned.

Do you think a man so obsessed with so-called “rigging” wouldn't engage in it himself? Whether he truly believed it or not—which, it's been proven that he didn't, and only claimed so to rile up his cultish followers, causing January 6th—who's to say he wouldn't do it himself to “even out the playing field” so to speak? Who's to say a man like him wouldn't claim election fraud 4 years in advance just to pull the wool over all of our collective eyes later?

I'm not saying that he hasn't won.

But I am saying it's not goddamn over.

There's petitions you can sign demanding for recounts [EDIT: THEY DELETED THE LAST ONE!!!! THIS IS A REPLACEMENT!!!]. You can contact Harris to beg her to not take this lying down. You can—and SHOULD—contact the White House directly.

Listen to me.

Check out Project 2025.

My sweet, lovely girlfriend has been shoved and verbally abused—harassed into literal agoraphobia that she's already slipping back into just because of the election's results—by people who ate up the hateful rhetoric of the Right.

She lives in a Blue State.

Even while my trans sister was male-presenting, she was treated differently—coldly—before she cut her hair short again. Suddenly, people would smile at her on the streets again.

She's since started transitioning, and what about now?

My little sister was physically bullied while she lived in Texas.

They, too, are lucky I was never around for that.

Now, in Florida, I doubt she fares much better.

My friend, who's a teacher in Texas, has been forced to publish under a pseudonym and try their complete and utter best to hide their writing so they're not fired for her job. Why?

Because the MC's nonbinary.

My friend is terrified for their son, growing up in a world like this. They're terrified to have another kid—which they want—because 'what if it's a daughter?' They don't want to bring a girl into a world like this.

And they don't want to risk a pregnancy that can end their life.

People all across the states are being forced to give birth to the children of their rapists... or die because of complications in the womb.

Babies are being forced to die slowly in the womb rather than humanely, through “abortion”, after it's clear they're dying, but “still have a heartbeat.”

Queer folk, PoC, and immigrants have been targeted and live in fear for their lives. They deal with VERY real violence and harassment, even if you don't see it yourself.

This is all the lasting effects of Trump's first term as president.

He and his followers spread a hateful rhetoric strongly aligning with Hitler's before the man took over. They fearmonger and sell out minorities as the reason everything's wrong in this country.

They make minorities a scapegoat, and make them into targets.

Regardless of the actual results of the election, these so-called “victories” for the Right only embolden the bigots to act more and more egregiously.

It doesn't matter if you're “one of the good ones”. It doesn't matter if “most Republicans aren't like that”. It doesn't matter what you think.

What matters is reality.

And reality is: a Trump victory means victory for the extremists.

They ran with it the first time.

What do you think they're going to do with it this time?

This all isn't to sound doomeristic, though—I think we still have a chance. I think Trump's rigged this thing for a reason. I think we need to push for this stuff to be exposed.

But it's going to take everything we have, guys.

Sure, maybe Harris isn't perfect. She's questionable af in a LOT of places, and I personally hate her stances on Palestine. I'm sure most of all of us do. But, do you really think Trump will be any kinder?

Do you really care to doom everyone else off of the miniscule chance that he'll decide to help them?

Listen: Harris isn't trying to turn the States into the next fascist dictatorship. Trump is. Harris isn't showing EVERY single “preparing for a genocide” red flag. Trump. IS.

Petition for recounts. Tell Harris not to give up.

And contact the White House telling them this is not acceptable.

Complain about the bomb threats. Complain about the lost ballots. Complain about the tampered-with ballots. Complain about the burned ballots, complain about the rejected ballots, and don't stop fighting tooth-and-nail like Trump kicked and screamed after the 2020 election.

Don't give up. It's not too late.

And, to my followers?

Let me make this abundantly clear.

If any of you voted for Trump? If any of you wanted him to win, or for Harris to lose?

Then get the fuck off my blog.

I don't give a shit what kind of relationship we've had in the past, or if you liked my writing, or any of that.

A loss for Harris is a win for Trump—it's that simple.

You aren't morally superior for choosing not to vote for Harris no matter WHAT reason you had for it. You aren't morally superior for finding her dubious, for hating her views on Palestine, or for refraining from choosing either of the two evils.

You're a coward.

An enabler, comforting yourself by telling yourself “at least you didn't have a hand in {whatever turned you against her}”.

Sure, you didn't kill the sheep.

But you left the gates open for the wolves.

And that makes you responsible for their deaths.

You knew the risks of leaving the gate open. But you did it anyway.

And, to any of you who voted for Trump?

I want you to know I HATE you.

No matter what, no matter who, no matter WHY.

I consider you all equally responsible for anything and everything that happens as a result of his presidency if it comes to be.

It isn't “just politics”.

It isn't something you can just wipe your hands clean of.

Maybe you don't have to face the consequences for the things that come from this, but I, the people I love, and countless others do.

It's not “just politics”.

It's our fucking lives.

And I hope, one of these days, you learn to regret it as much as the rest of us.

So, to those of you who left the gate open?

Do yourself a favor.

Get the fuck off my blog before I find out you did.

[frankenkyle19]

🎃The Sweetest Treat Is You🎃

4.7k words! First Halloween fic! Spooky season is here people

warnings/description: Peter Maximoff x fem reader smut, Handjobs, begging, aphrodisiacs, sub peter, oral (fem receiving), p in v, peter making stupid jokes, per usual.

-What started off as an innocent enough night turned into a Halloween for the books. And who knew it only took Peter eating six cupcakes for it to happen. Well, not any normal cupcakes… But you’ll learn that soon enough-

You weren’t sure how he convinced you, but somehow the one and only Peter Maximoff had convinced you to go trick or treating with him. It was childish, and he loved it. You on the other hand acted as an actual adult, unlike the silver haired mutant. 

He’d gone as a skeleton, asking (more like begging), you to do his makeup. So you did, leaning over him for hours as you meticulously worked on his face and hands to get him looking like a real skeleton. When Peter looked in the mirror the squeak of delight he let out was nothing short of a noise an excited child would make. What a strange thing he was. It’s as if his body grew up but his mental age was no older than a 13 year old boy. 

No matter. Somehow, ridiculously, you still liked the man in front of you. No matter how childish and ridiculous he was most of the time. Everything seemed to be a game to him. He seemed so carefree, even when fighting villains and saving the world. You wished for that kind of peace in your life.

You had decided to dress up as something simple. You had gone to the store and picked out a little pair of red glittery horns and a pitchfork. You dug through your closet and came back with a pretty little red lace bra that would go perfectly with your idea. You then found some red leggings. Putting it all together along with some makeup made you look like the most stunning devil anyone had or would ever lay their eyes on.

Peter nearly choked on air when he first saw you, his eyebrows raising underneath the thick layer of makeup covering his features. Nothing hid the surprised look in his eyes though. You simply chuckled, shaking your head. You weren’t surprised, really. Peter couldn’t talk to girls, couldn’t even look at them. Which was pretty unfortunate considering if he actually had the balls to ask you on a date, you’d say yes. 

“Holyyyy mama.” He whistled, looking you up and down quickly before he respectfully returned his gaze to your eyes, which were dusted in a dark red glitter, matching your equally red lip. 

“You like it?” You quickly spun around for him, giving him the full look, and Peter was practically drooling. He blinked a few times, snapping out of whatever trance you had put him in, and gave you a polite smile.

“Uh duh-“ he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. Of course you looked hot as all fuck. Anyone who didn’t think so was actually insane.

“Okay well how about you quit gawking and let’s get going, yeah?” You said with a knowing smile, watching as he brought his hands up in defense, ready to argue that he most certainly was not gawking at you, before he gave up. He was, after all. There was no use in lying to you.

You took his hand, careful not to mess up the intricate makeup of his skeleton hands, as you walked out of the mansion, into the brisk October air. It felt so nice, and even a little chilly against your mostly bare skin. Maybe you should have brought a few more layers. No matter, you hopefully wouldn’t be out too long. 

A few kids ran by, and thanks to your costumes, didn’t recognize the two of you. Peter was the more well known of the two of you, but you had powers as well. Were just as much of a mutant as he was, even if you didn’t think your powers were as cool as his. 

You felt at times that your powers weren’t as helpful as the others. You had umbrakinesis. In simple terms, you could control and shape darkness and shadows. So you always seemed to be shrouded in a cloud of darkness. You hadn’t even realized your powers for most of your life, only really discovering and coming into them in the past three years. That’s when you had met Peter, and being two of the youngest members of the X-men, you bonded quickly to each other, becoming an annoying, inseparable duo.

Peter’s smile widened as he watched all the children running around laughing, going from door to door, knocking. 

“Do you really think this is gonna work, dude? I mean you don’t exactly look like a kid-“ You gestured to him, a quizzical look on your face.

Peter turned to you and grinned “oh no- I didn’t want to go trick or treating, I just had to find a way to get you dressed up. For my little surprise.” Before you could even open your mouth to reply, Peter sped you away with a quick fwip.

You clutched onto him tightly, burying your face in his chest as he sped down the street before stopping in front of a house completely decorated in Halloween attire. 

He set you down, gently rubbing your back, making sure you didn’t get sick from the speed. That happened quite often, and that’s why you hated when he sped you around places.

You shot him a deadly glance before looking at the house, ears catching the sound of faint music from inside, along with the sound of chatter. 

“What is this, Peter?” You asked, hands on your hips as you turned back around to face him, a shit eating grin on his face.

“A partayyyy” He began to walk towards the front door, a pep in his step as he looked over his shoulder at you “well come on, we don’t have all night.” 

You could not believe it. A party? Peter knew you hated being in large groups, or around people in general. You were very much a loner and a homebody, so for him to do this? What the fuck was he thinking…

You slowly followed him as he opened the door, the music and chatter getting much louder now that the sound barrier had broken between you. 

“Peter I don’t-“ you tried to start, but Peter was already walking in, beginning to talk to everyone around him. That’s something you never understood. How he could just start up a conversation with anyone around him. 

You made your way into the house, looking down at your feet as you felt eyes on you. You didn’t like this one bit, but you were already here so you might as well try and have some fun… yeah? 

You made your way down the hall that opened up into a kitchen. The house was nice, modern and homey. The decor was nice as well. Cobwebs and skeletons hanging off of every surface, a bubbling cauldron of punch sitting in the middle of the counter. 

You grabbed a cup and poured yourself some, taking a sip. Your nose curled in disgust as you just as quickly dumped the rest of the liquid in your cup down the sink, throwing the cup into the trash can. It tasted like ninety percent alcohol with like… ten percent juice or whatever was in there. Gross.

You looked around and saw some chocolate cupcakes with little candy skulls on them. They looked good, but you weren’t in the mood for them. Later you’d be thankful that you hadn’t eaten any of them.

You grabbed a handful of pretzels to snack on instead, looking around at the people in every corner of the house. You liked to people watch, so you decided to do that for a while and maybe by the time you were done Peter would be ready to leave as well.

A breeze swept past you, making your hair fly around wildly. Peter. He had swiped one of the cupcakes and just as quickly zoomed out of the kitchen. What a little shit, not even trying to hide who he was or what he could do. Sure, he was famous, but didn’t he get tired of people constantly watching him? Following him? Asking for pictures and autographs? It made you thankful that you weren’t more well known.  

You didn’t see Peter for most of the night, only seeing him grab a couple more cupcakes here and there. Where did he fit all that? You’d be so stuffed, not to mention the sickening sweet feeling that would come with eating that many cupcakes. Good lord.

You noticed how hot it had gotten in the house, the smell of sweat and bodies making you nearly nauseous. Not to mention the amount of people just… Making out everywhere. With absolutely no shame. Just totally going for it. Gross.

You’d had enough at this point, and went off to find Peter, finding him leaned against a wall, talking to what looked like a group of frat boys who were basically throwing themselves at the chance to talk to the Quicksilver.

You tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, smiling down at you like the idiot he was. His makeup had smeared around his mouth and he had the remains of however many cupcakes he’d demolished on his lips. You shook your head but couldn’t help but to smile back at him.

“Can we leave now, Pete? It’s really hot in here and I’m feeling really uncomfortable.” You said, fanning your face as you looked around for an exit. Peter, sensing how uncomfortable you became, nodded almost instantly. You’d put up with enough for tonight. 

So he politely excused himself from the group of boys, telling them he’d see them around, before he followed you to the front door. An odd feeling was settling in Peter's stomach but he put it off as too many cupcakes. He had had almost six whole cupcakes, anyone would be sick after that.

You both exited the house, the sound of music and various chatter finally quieting. 

“And we’re walking. Normally.” You said before Peter could do anything stupid. 

He nodded, following after you as he looked you over once more, a heat forming in his belly as he began to get hot. Very hot. Unnaturally hot. He shrugged it off, trying not to think too much about it.

Jesus.. had you always looked this hot? Have your lips always looked this kissable? Peter felt like he was losing his mind to his own urges and he wanted to punch himself. What was going on with him?

You turned to look at him, your eyebrows furrowing in worry. He was covered in a sheen of sweat, making his skeleton makeup smudge and smear across his face, the intricate design long gone by now. He looked back at you with such intensity that if you didn’t know him so well, would have scared you.

“Peter, are you feeling okay? You look like shit-“ 

“Gee, thanks dude that’s nice-“ he chuckled, wiping some sweat from his bro, the face paint rubbing onto his arm. He grimaced a bit, his head spinning and all his eyes could seem to focus on, was you. Everything else faded out of focus, blood rushing to his ears as he stared at you hungrily.

You knew something was wrong the moment you laid your eyes on him after walking out of that party. You just didn’t know what was wrong. But you’d soon find out.

“Peter- Peter c’mon, let’s get you home and cleaned up. Something’s not right.” You said, beginning to practically drag Peter along, which wasn’t hard considering he was following you like a lost puppy dog.

You smelt so sweet and you looked like the most enticing treat Peter had seen all night. Even more so than those cupcakes. God. Those damn cupcakes. The root of all these problems. Now you two would have no idea until later than night. Much much later those weren’t normal cupcakes. They had been laced with some sort of chemical or plant or something that made you… Well to put it plainly, extremely horny. Like desperately if I don’t fuck I’ll die horny.

Peter felt light headed, following after you in a daze. You managed to somehow, by the grace of god, get him back into the mansion, bringing him up to your room. Maybe that had been a mistake, but he looked awful and you wanted to make sure he was somewhere where you could watch and attend to him until you figured out what was wrong and if it was serious or not.

Peter hated to admit it, always talking so confidently about his skills in bed, when realistically he was the biggest pillow princess there ever was. He was the most submissive, whiney thing, which you’d soon figure out as well. He also didn’t have much experience, having only had sex a handful of times in his almost thirty years of living. What a loser, he thought. 

You quickly closed the door behind you as you led him to sit on your bed, quickly going to your bathroom and wetting a cloth before coming right back to him. You gently wiped the makeup and cupcake crumbs off of his face. He sighed in relief at the feeling of the cold cloth, practically leaning his face into it, begging for more.

“Peter tell me what’s wrong, were you- Jesus were you drugged?” You asked, wondering how in the actual world this had happened. You’d never seen him like this in your nearly three years of friendship. 

“I feel fineeee-“ he slurred, grabbing onto your shoulder with a much too tight grip. You stared at him with wide eyes. “Peter what are you-“

“Mmm you feel so niceee- and warm- holy shit dude I’m so screwed-“ he said out loud, shaking his head slowly, his silver hair getting into his eyes as he huffed and quickly pushed it back with his hand.

“Peter I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with you. Tell me, what did you have at the party? What did you drink?”

“Didn’t drink anything babe, totally only ate a few cupcakes. They were soooo good too.” He said, swaying back and forth as the heat burning in his stomach changed directions, going lower.

“You just had the cupcakes? Promise? Peter, you have to tell me if you’ve had anything else.” You urged, tilting his chin up with your thumb and pointer finger, watching as his eyes met your. His had begun to grow impossibly darker, pupils blown to absolute shit. He looked destroyed. 

“Anyone ever told you how beautiful you are babe?” It was hitting him all at once, all the sudden he doubled over, groaning as he held his stomach. And… Why did he suddenly have a hard on? He was just as confused as you were, plus embarrassed.

You looked him over, brows furrowed in complete confusion before they went to his hard on. Something clicked in your brain. Everyone at that damn party had eaten a cupcake except for you. And everyone’s sex drive seemed insatiable, all of them making out and grinding on each other anywhere in the house… What was in those cupcakes? Whatever it was seemed to be affecting Peter, maybe even more intensely than everyone else at the party considering he’d eaten a half dozen of the damned things. 

“Oh my god-“ you said with a quiet giggle, which caught Peter’s attention and made him frown. “What’s funny- oh fuckkk don’t laugh at me-“

“I’m not laughing at you Peter. I’m laughing because I think you ate something you weren’t supposed to. Have you ever heard of aphrodisiacs?”

“English please, I’m not that smart.” He whined, pouting his bottom lip dramatically. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes. “It’s some sort of chemical that makes you… well-“ you gestured to his hard on, which he wasn’t trying very hard to cover up. 

He followed your gaze to his lap and looked down, puzzled. “Hmm- when’d that happen-“ he said, doubling over as another wave of pain rushed through him. He felt like he was being stuck with pins and needles and it felt like absolute hell. He needed to find a way to stop.

“Please- god babe you gotta help me-“ he begged, reaching out for you. You backed up. You’d read about it, and these kinds of effects shouldn’t be this intense. Maybe it had something to do with his mutant powers? His body was trying to run through the aphrodisiacs but it had backfired? That was about the only explanation that came to mind.

“Peter I-“ you knew the only way to stop this was to give in. To let him do as he pleased. But could you really go through with that? Ruin a three year long friendship because Peter had been dumb and eaten six sex drug filled cupcakes? 

But the pained look on his face made you want to help him. Any way that you could. And to be honest, you had a little crush on him. Just a tiny little one. Okay… maybe a big one. A really big one. But who wouldn’t?! 

“Pleaseee” he whined pathetically, pawing at his hard on with a cry, eyes focused only on you. 

“I dunno why I’m doing this babe- please it hurts please help me, help yer friend, yeah?” He pleaded, tears filling his dark brown eyes.

“Okay.” Was all you said. Okay. You’d let this happen. You’d help him, because he was your best friend and you refused to see him in so much pain when you could help.

Peter nearly sobbed at your word, pulling you into a harsh kiss full of teeth and tongue as he practically devoured you, the taste of your lips absolutely intoxicating. You were like a drug, and he never wanted to recover from it.

You kissed back after a few moments, hands coming up to wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. The heat that was radiating off his body was totally crazy. Completely unnatural and it couldn’t feel good for him.

“Please- please touch me- I’ll do anything for ya- please?” He whined against your lips before he moved down to suck hickies into the fragile skin of your neck. He nipped the skin before actually fully biting down, causing you to cry out in surprise.

“Peter!” You squealed, trying to shove him off, but to no avail. He was much stronger than you.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry baby I’m so sorry I can’t help myself-“ He apologized furiously, pressing gentle kisses over the bite mark as an apology.

You gently rubbed his back and nodded in understanding. He was trying hard to control himself, and if you didn’t do something to help him soon, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

“Shhh, it’s okay Peter, just- oh Pete-“ You gasped quietly as he began rutting against your thigh, his hard on somehow even hotter than the rest of his body, almost searing to the touch. He mewled at the friction, quickly shoving his hand into his pants for some sort of relief. This was so embarrassing and when he finally came back to his senses, he probably wouldn’t be able to even look you in the eye.

“Baby- Peter let me help you-“ you said carefully, removing his hand from his pants, replacing it with your own. It wasn’t hard for your hand to blindly find his dick. Not only was it searing hot to the touch, but it took up most of the space in his boxers.

The second your hand wrapped around his dick Peter swore this was what heaven must be like. Heaven was you. Your touch. The relief that surged through him caused a tear to actually slip from the corner of his eye, his breathing relaxing a bit as he gently thrust up into your hand.

“Ohwowthat-“ his words mixed together, eyes rolled into the back of his head as he weakly bucked up into your touch. You smiled a bit, seeing the relief wash through him, and god if touching him like this didn’t turn you on…

Your underwear became slick, and would soon probably show through your red leggings, but you weren’t worried about that right now. You were worried about Peter.

He got impossibly harder, twitching in your hand as his body seemed to buzz with pleasure. Like actually buzzing. He was moving so fast the edges of his body were blurred.

You swiped your thumb over the tip of his leaking cock, collecting the thick fluid there before smearing it down his cock. He yelped softly, bucking into the touch desperately before his body went rigid. You suddenly felt a lot more fluid and realized that he had cum. He’d just cum from you barely touching him. 

Peter flushed red with embarrassment, hiding his face away from you. He’d just blown his load in like two minutes in front of you and he wanted to crawl into a hole for the rest of time.

“Peter-“ you said gently, cupping his cheek “it’s okay really it is- I know how bad you needed that-“ Peter didn’t respond for several moments before he pounced on you, ripping off your bra, much to your dismay. You really liked that bra. Next he pulled your leggings down your legs and tossed them somewhere onto your floor.

“Peter!” You yelled in suprise, looking up at him with wide, confused eyes. “Peter what are you doing-“

You figured one release would be enough to satiate the need burning inside him, but boy were you so very very wrong.

Peter’s thumb connected with your covered clit, rubbing gentle circles against the slick fabric, grinning devilishly.

“Wanna taste you- no I gotta taste you- bet you taste so sweet- better than any stupid Halloween candy anyway-“ he spoke, ripping off your underwear and throwing it onto the growing pile of half ruined clothes that lay on the floor.

You arched up into his touch as his fingers parted your folds, nostrils flaring as he watched your slick coat his fingers. 

He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your thigh. It was a small, but very sweet gesture before he dove into your core, eating you out like you were his last meal. He was a bit clumsy at first but soon got into a rhythm, his tongue dancing patterns along your clit, making you cry out in surprise. You gripped onto his stupid silver hair and tried to pull him closer. Peter could barely breathe and if this was his way to die? He’d be happy. Death by pussy. 

You were not expecting your Halloween to go this way, but you definitely weren’t upset with it. 

You felt your release growing, the feeling of his tongue lapping against you made you see stars. The way his nose so perfectly bumped against your clit made you want to scream. 

“Peter I’m-“ you choked out, and Peter, bless him, almost busted another load at realizing you were close. He kept the same pace he had been doing, thank god, and the feeling soon became too overwhelming. You gripped harder onto his hair as you came, your release covering his face as he moaned against you. He led you through it before pulling off of you, chin and lips absolutely soaked. You blushed with slight embarrassment as Peter licked his lips before taking off his shirt, wiping his chin off before pulling you into another kiss.

“Delicious. Ten out of ten would eat here again.”

“Peter!” You shouted, cheeks burning as you playfully smacked his shoulder. How did he always manage to ruin the moment? 

Peter chuckled as he leant back down to nip and kiss at the skin of your shoulder, his still clothed lower body grinding against your bare one.

“Mmm, I'm ready to go for round two if you are.” He whispered against your skin, practically drooling on you, and if it was anyone else besides him, you’d be disgusted. 

“Peter you’re drooling-“ there was a pause for a moment before he collected his saliva with his tongue, cleaning you off before a quiet ‘sorry’ slipped from his lips.

You reached down to cup his once again growling bulge which caused his breath to catch in his throat. 

“Yer gonna let me fuck you?” He asked, grinding against your hand, his mind running wild with the thought.

“Well duh, gotta see how fast you can go.” You grinned, eyebrows raising in a challenge.

“Oh I don’t know if you can handle how fast I can go. Might break ya.” He grinned, already moving to unfasten his pants and pull them off as quickly as humanly (mutantly?) possible. Which for him, was very fast. 

He was left in his already soaked boxers before he just threw those off too, revealing himself fully. And holy shit, was he big. Your mouth watered a bit at the sight and Peter blushed at your staring.

“Break me, Quicksilver.” That drove him absolutely crazy, maybe it was some weird kink he had, but you calling him quicksilver? Uh yes please.

He pulled you into another heated kiss, positioning himself at your entrance before he looked at you 

“Got a condom?” He asked, really praying you did because if you had to stop here, he thinks he’d drop dead.

You shook your head and Peter’s heart quite literally fell into his ass, until you continued.

“I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. It’s okay Peter.” You assured, placing your hand on his shoulders 

“Now would you fuck me? I’m not a virgin, you don’t have to be gentle.” You whispered against his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

This had to be a dream. Was he dreaming? Was it Christmas morning? There was no way this was real. No way. 

He pushed into you, so gently despite your words, burying his face in the crook of your neck as a quiet sigh escaped his parted lips. It felt so good. Like too good and he knew he wasn’t going to last long. But neither were you. The leftover euphoria from your previous release made everything more intense and you could already feel the pleasure building up.

Peter began to fully fuck you, his hips slapping against yours, causing a deliciously inappropriate sound that hopefully no one else in the mansion could hear.

The bed creaked slightly as he thrust into you as outside little kids ran from house to house, getting enough candy to give them cavities. This was Peter's candy. His treat. 

“Oh f-fuck babe I’m not gonna last much longer- yer squeezing me so fuckin’ tight-“ he grunted, his thrusts becoming sloppy. He reached down to circle his thumb over your clit, causing your pleasure to intensify tenfold. 

Suddenly you were right there with him, about to tip over the edge.

It was the best, but also most special sex you’d ever had. It was full of so much love, as well as want. Peter’s body buzzed more, his cock quite literally vibrating inside you. He was like a human vibrator, and you’d definitely explore that more at a later time.

You held onto his shoulder as he fucked you “fuck baby cum for me, cum for me so I can pull out-“ he groaned, trying so hard to hold out for you and your pleasure.

You chuckled, which caught him by surprise. Why were you laughing?

“Peter- you can cum inside. I’m on the pill. Please. Give it to me.” With the comfort of knowing that, the chance to actually cum inside you made him go feral. His thrusts sped up and just as you fell over the edge, he did too. Your releases mixing together and his cum shooting deep inside you, making you feel warm and dizzy. 

He nearly collapsed onto you, pulling out of you and falling next to you, as he wrapped you up in his arms. He closed his eyes, his labored breathing as well as your own the only sound to be heard in the room. 

It wasn’t how you had planned to spend your Halloween, but god was it so much better than anything you could have ever thought of.

Peter drifted to sleep soon after, but not before whispering about how you were the best treat he’d had all night.

[my-castles-crumbling]

Questioning my sexuality

Okay so hi cas ive been thinking about this for a long time and i think i might be bi?? Tho im only 13 so i guess i still have a lot of time to figure it out. Im definetly attracted to men and i have always known that tho now im staring to think i might also be to women. The thing is i actually want to be bi if that makes sense because im genuinely so terrified at the thought that if i ever want romantical love and a relantionshiop it will have to be with a man, and therefor i dont know if im actually genuinely attracted to women or if its just because i want to be cause i definetly find some women pretty and hot but im scared its just because im forcing myself?. Like for example theres this older girl at my school that i get a little breathless and incredibly nervous around because shes just so fkn gorgeous?? I know theres also that whole thing about how a straight person doesnt wonder if theyre queer but i dont know if it applies to me because im generally just a huge overthinker.

I dont know if that made any sense but i need to vent and get some advice on this i think, anyways im also gonna take the ultimative bi test which is apparently watching pirates of the carribean?

You are absolutely right in the fact that I think you're overthinking it a bit. And I understand why! It a lot to figure out, and i definitely over thought it a lot as well, especially when i was younger. So please don't think I'm judging <3

Here's the thing:

You do not have to be in a relationship with a man if you don't want to be. If you find girls attractive, you can date them! But it sounds like right now, you're thinking ten steps into the future. I know it's honestly the most difficult thing in the world, but I need you to just let yourself feel. You are more than allowed to identify as bi right now, even if you're not completely sure that's accurate. If things change, then you can change that label too! You're also more than allowed to say you don't want a label because you don't know yet! You're also allowed to try dating all types of genders and see how you feel (as long as those are appropriate, consenting relationships).

What I'm saying is, you do NOT need to have all the answers right now. It's okay to figure it out as you go. Because I'm quite a bit older than you and I'm STILL figuring it out.

Also, POTC is a great movie, but it probably won't give you the answers either <3

[ot3]

Hi, I started playing Ace Attorney because of you (which thanks, I have been having a blast!), and I just finished Rise of the Ashes. I was wondering if you had any thoughts/head cannons on anything relating to that episode, especially the Skye sisters!

Any AA headcanons you been sitting on? Doesn't have to be anything new, just something you think you might be able to toss out a couple paragraphs for

oh man rise from the ashes.... extremely extremely fucking good case im glad you enjoyed it!

a headcanon i have is that ema was in the car accident that killed her parents... we don't have an exact number on how old she was when their parents died, but she and lana are ~13 years apart. it seems like lana took custody of ema immediately after their parent's death so assuming lana was bare minimum 18 when their parents died, this meant ema was at her youngest 5. i like to think she was slightly older - maybe 7 or so. anyway i imagine her parents were taking her to or from somewhere. i don't have any particularly strong reasoning for this headcanon it just feels right to me. i don't think ema feels like it was her fault in any way but i think she does have survivor's guilt and more important than that being Right There when she died gives her a sense of how easy it is for people to die moreso than it would have if they had just not come home one day

anyway after rfta ema gets sent to live with one of lana's friends who is a coroner in europe - i like to think that this was actually one of lana's exes but ema doesn't know that. i think part of lana's reason for sending ema abroad was to try and keep her away from the shitstorm going on in the LA justice system... she knows ema wants to be in forensics but i think after everything lana went through ema ending up in the stew like she did is kind of her nightmare. for obvious reasons. so i think after lana gets out of prison and ema is A Detective and also Miserable this is really really hard on lana. like she fundamentally feels like she failed ema and is heartbroken this is how stuff has ended up for her baby sister

but then its like this is also kind of a nightmare for ema, who just wanted lana to be proud of her when she can't be proud of herself, and so she kind of ends up mistaking lana's feelings of failure for judgement of how ema's life turned out. like despite ema knowing how much of lana's career accomplishments were because of gant's influence i think she still can't help but compare herself to the image she has in her head of lana as this cool hypercompetent professional, star detective And star prosecutor all before the age of 30. nevermind that she burned out hot and fast after that getting involved in multiple felonies! lana spent so long working herself to the bone to try and protect ema from the world and all she did was make sure that her young, impressionable sister grew up idolizing the kind of relationship to your career that ruins your life

its good stuff. theyre really messy.

[toecrust69]

I love the Batsis that’s obsessed with cat woman, can we see how she Interacts with Selina in person?

A/N: OMG IM LITERALLY SO GLAD U ASKED. Also, sorry if this took a long time to answer!!

Oh and ur like 13 or 12 in this and Bruce and Selina are in a relationship (sorry if this was a stupid thing to metion)

I feel like it definitely depends on the situation, yk?

By that I mean whether or not batsis knows about Selina being Catwoman

If she doesn't know about it, she'll definitely fangirl about it to her

Since nobody else in the manor wants to talk about it, she's your last resort

It doesn't make her uncomfortable tho, she actually finds it kinda amusing

Like

Can you imagine your boyfriends daughter fangiling about how hot, badass, cool, and iconic you are without even knowing they're fangirling over you?

She'd listen closely to every word you say, pride swelling up in her chest

"She's so cool! I'm honestly kinda jealous of Batman." She smirked and looked over her shoulder at you before responding.

"Really? How so?" She asked curiously.

"I dunno man, I think it's the fact that he gets to hang out with her everyday. If I ever see batman I'm gonna ask him for her number."

"Hang on, how old are you? And how do you know Bruce won't blow up?" You stopped chewing on your cereal for a second, thinking about what you'd say next

"First of all, Bruce should be proud of me! I just got the phone number of one of the hottest and most iconic people to ever live. If he doesn't feel proud or at the very least jealous, I don't know how he'd feel" you shrugged mindlessly

"Ok, but how old are you?"

"... old enough"

Your definitely her favorite, but she'll never admit it

About the body pillow...

She'd probably buy you more just to piss off Bruce (he had no idea you bought it)

She'd also buy you a bunch of merchandise of her

This includes shirts, shoes, pants, hats, pillows, underwear, glasses, posters, socks, etc.

Are you sad?? Don't worry, she has a catwoman mug in her purse custom made just for you :))

On the other hand, if you already know who she is, it's gonna be a bit of a mess

You'd definitely figure it out after fangirling about her for almost 6 months

You'd feel a bit embarrassed for a second before quickly recovering and going back to normal (for the most part)

To say the least, you'd constantly try to get her number or at the very least flirt with her

You know those tiktoks talking abt poetic rizz? Just imagine that if they were brought to life and now it's you

You'd follow her around the halls of the manor and batcave while reading out one of the latest poems you either read or made just for her

She ends up having to stiffle a laughe whenever your reading it to her and Bruce comes in with a huge frown on his face

He'd tell you to stop only for you to continue shortly after he leaves the room

" I would rather swim in a stormy sea than sail calm waters without yo-" you were quickly interrupted when Bruce came busting through the door with a huge frown on his face

"Stop it! She's almost 20 years older than you, leave her alone"

"Oh my bad, I'll stop" you answered dryly

"Good" He said sternly before walking out the room, leaving you and Selina alone. You turned around to look at her with a cocktail smirk, "I think he's jealous I'm trying to steal his girl and it's actually working ;)"

Yea no Bruce absolutely hates it

He doesn't like the fact that her daughter is getting more attention from his gf than him😭😭

But he knows that she'd never leave him for a 13 year old girl with amazing rizz like you, right?

... right?

Every time she comes back from a mission without you, you'd ask he about it

You'll listen intently to every word she says, making tiny comments every now and then

Once you turn 18, you'd rent an apartment and let her know so she can visit whenever she wants (yea ur still obsessed with her)

One time, you ended up not going on patrol for a whole week because you were sickand she came to visit you with chicken soup in her hands

You thanked her profusely and kept on offering her some stuff like water or food but she always declined

She was your guest after all

Am iconic one at that

She'd watch movies with you for a while before eventually forcing you to sleep

Then next day she'd invite you to go rob some jewelry stores with her, ivy, and harley

Speaking of ivy and harley

they absolutely adore you!!

Ivy never fails to notice how all the plants around you seem to lean into you when you walk past them

Your like a magnet and she seems to have gotten stuck onto you as well

I REALLY HOPE THAT MADE SENSE😭😭

Harley also can't help but notice the way her hyenas cuddle up to your legs whenever you come over to her apartment

She'd smile softly from the kitchen as she watched you play around with Bud and Lou

Oh and Selinas cats also like u

You're actually kinda fond of cats but you've never met any until one day when you can over to Selinas appartment

You'd only ever seen cats on TV or on the internet but never in real life

You were having fun playing around with her 10 cats until you began aggressively sneezing lmao

You ended up spread out on the floor, arms outstretched as the cats began surrounding you

You were still sneezing, just not as bad anymore

That was until one of the cats walked up to your face and began licking your face

You could feel a strong sneeze coming up but you didn't want to scare him away so you ended up having to hold your breath so you wouldnt sneeze

You held it in for such a long time that even Selina wondered how you were still alive

But you couldn't hold it in for too long so you ended up sneezing anyways lmao

Sorry if this was kinda short, should I make a pt.2??

Oh and credits to @thesharktanksdriver , she inspired me to make this and u can tell bc I used the same layout as her. Her writing is amazing and I highly recommend you read it!!

[thetinyreviews]

The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray Chapter 2

This is a collection of my favourite quotes and thoughts about them.

Chapter 1, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

"There is no such thing as a good influence, Mr. Gray. All influence is immoral -- immoral from the scientific point of view." (…) "Because to influence a person is to give him one's own soul." Lord Henry to Dorian, page 73

I mostly never know what to think of Lord Henry's thoughts because he's so right but yet so disturbing.

"I will go out to the garden with you. It is horridly hot in the studio. Basil, let us have something iced to drink, something with strawberries in it." Lord Henry, page 76

In literature, strawberries often symbolize temptation, purity, and innocence, due to their sweet taste and bright red colour.

"Lord Henry went out the garden, and found Dorian Gray burying his face in the great cool lilac-blossoms, feverishly drinking in their perfume as if it had been wine." Page 76

Lilacs symbolize youth, innocence, and first love, especially in Western literature. Their fleeting blooms reflect themes of transience and nostalgia, often symbolizing the fleeting nature of young love (perhaps a foreshadowing of Dorian's love for Sybil Vane). They can also carry a sense of mystery, especially in Gothic literature, as their scent and beauty invoke a kind of haunting elegance.

"Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses." Lord Henry to Dorian Gray, page 78

Lilies frequently symbolize purity, innocence, and virtue, especially in Christian literature. They are often associated with the Virgin Mary and are emblematic of chastity and spiritual beauty. In classical literature, lilies can represent mortality and resurrection, symbolizing the soul's journey from death to rebirth. This duality makes them both a symbol of purity and a reminder of death. Roses are among the most symbolically rich flowers, representing love, passion, and beauty. Red roses, in particular, are universally associated with romantic love and desire.

"How sad it is!" murmured Dorian Gray, with his eyes still fixed upon his own portrait. "How sad it is! I shall grow old, and horrid, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June… If it was only the other way! If it was I who were to be always young, and the picture that were to grow old! For this-- for this-- I would give everything! Yes: there is nothing in the whole world I would not give!" Dorian Gray, page 82

Nothing much to say but good foreshadowing.

"Yes," he continued "I am less to you than your ivory Hermes, or your silver Faun. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know now that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry is perfectly right. Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I will kill myself." Dorian Gray to Basil, page 82-3

Even if Basil loves Dorian, I've always believed he loves a shallow version of the boy. Does he really know who Dorian is? Does he think he's more than his good looks?

"Man is many things, but he is not rational." Lord Henry, page 84

Rationality isn't a human thing. We are too much of a victim of our emotions, and they cloud everything around us.

[sisterspooky1013]

Gaslight, Chapter 13/48

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

He knocks again, then stands back to wait. What the hell are they doing in there? he wonders, shifting the six pack of beer he brought to the other arm. Poker night is every Thursday—it’s not like they aren’t expecting him. 

The night is cool and crisp, the clear indigo sky speckled with pinpricks of starlight. Trillions of miles traveled across the universe over thousands of years, just to be overpowered by skyscrapers and streetlights and the haze of the industrial revolution. He tips his face up and locates the Big Dipper, the North Star, Cassiopeia. It makes him at once feel insignificant—a speck on a rock in a pile in a quarry—and extraordinary. How many events throughout the history of time had to happen in precisely the way they did in order to bring him to this moment? It feels like destiny, which is both a comfort and a burden. 

Finally, the door pops open and he’s greeted by a tall blond man with thick glasses. 

“The party has arrived!” the man says jovially, standing aside to allow him entry. “Jeff’s here!” he hollers, and voices of the other two call out greetings from a nearby room. 

“I’ve been standing out there for ten minutes,” Jeff chides gently. “I thought you’d kicked me out of the coven.”

They enter a small dining room with a circular table surrounded by four chairs, two of them occupied.

“We were out back smoking a cigar,” the blond man explains as he takes his seat. “Cuban, the real deal.”

“And you didn’t wait for me?” Jeff asks, exaggerating his level of offense as he sits in the remaining chair. 

“Come on, man, we know Diana would have your balls if she smelled cigar smoke on you,” one of the other men says. He’s older than the other two, with wiry salt and pepper hair. 

“You’re not wrong,” Jeff agrees, cracking open a bottle of beer. “Let’s get this show on the road; who’s dealing?”

The third man, mahogany-skinned and handsome, shuffles the cards artfully, making a show of bridges and cascades as he smirks to himself. 

“Mike thinks he’s hot shit with his little card tricks,” the blond man says bitingly. “Just deal the things already, Mike. Jeff has a curfew.”

“Fuck off, Simon,” Mike shoots back. “I’m perfecting my craft.”

“Women are attracted to money, not junior high magic tricks,” Simon says, nudging the third man with his elbow. 

“I like magic tricks,” the third man comments self-consciously, and the other three laugh. 

“Somehow that doesn’t surprise me,” Mike says, shaking his head. “You always gotta be the weird one, don’t you, Frank?”

“Yeah, well, you won’t be laughing when I clean house,” Frank grumbles, and Mike finally deals out the deck. 

Frank does, in fact, clean house. They don’t play with real money, just chips, but that doesn’t hamper each man’s desire to win, nor his disappointment when Frank scoops up the lion’s share of the pile and begins stacking them enthusiastically. 

Simon checks his watch, then sighs and runs his hand through his hair. “I gotta head out in a half hour or so,” he says. “Marcy didn’t want me to stay too late.”

“Well, I guess Jeff isn’t the only one with a curfew,” Mike teases, and Simon shakes his head with a smile. 

“It’s not that, it’s just hard for her to get up with the baby at night right now, so I’ve been taking all that on.”

“Is she okay?” Jeff asks, his mind immediately going to the kinds of things that can cost you a sister. 

“Yeah, she’s fine, just tired. She’s, uh—she’s pregnant again, actually,” Simon offers, and all the eyebrows at the table shoot up to their hairlines. 

“No shit,” Frank says carefully. “Is that good news or bad news?”

“Surprising news,” Simon says. “But ultimately good. We didn’t really plan to have two this close together, but I guess fate had other ideas.”

“Congratulations,” Jeff offers, extending his hand. “That’s great.”

“Can’t say I miss those days,” Frank remarks, still stacking his chips. “Up at 3:00 am trying to get a baby back to sleep when you have to be up for work at 6:00? No thank you. I’m glad mine are all grown.”

“Thanks, Frank, that’s really kind of you to say,” Simon says, rolling his eyes. 

“I always miss my kids when they’re at Jenny’s,” Mike says sadly. “Being a dad is the best thing I’ve ever done.”

“Hey now, I love my kids,” Frank defends. “I’m just saying, waking up in the middle of the night fucking sucks.”

Jeff watches the exchange, unable to take part. He can relate to overbearing spouses and the perils of the working world, but he has nothing to offer on the subject of fatherhood. 

“I actually need to head out too,” he says as he stands and retrieves what remains of his beer. “Wouldn’t want anything unfortunate to happen to my balls.”

“Send our best to the warden,” Frank quips, earning him a warning look. 

He leaves them, a peel of laughter fading as he pulls the door closed behind himself and makes his way to his car. 

It does bother him a little, the way they talk about Diana. At the same time, what they say about her isn’t untrue. She is a little bit controlling, but not without due cause. He’s made mistakes in the past, ones he can never fully set right, and ones that justify Diana’s desire to know where he is and with whom. He promised her that he would do whatever it takes to make it up to her, and that has included checking in regularly and being home by midnight. Of course, his friends don’t know that, because he’s never told them. He’s too ashamed. So he accepts their cheap shots at his wife, and then drives home to her so he can prove again and again that she is the only one he wants to come home to. 

He slinks into the house quietly, shushing Frenchie’s barks as he enters through the laundry room. He walks towards the back of the house to let her outside, and is startled by Diana’s voice as he passes through the kitchen. 

“You’re late.”

He jumps a little, bringing his hand to his chest as he pulls the sliding glass door open and Frenchie slips out. 

“Jesus, you scared me,” he admits, though that was fairly obvious by his reaction. 

Diana is perched at the kitchen island wearing a silk nightgown, a glass of water on the counter before her. He looks at the time on the microwave display and then back to her pinched expression. 

“By four minutes, Diana,” he defends, indignant. 

She pulls in a deep breath, straightening her posture. 

“Where were you?” she asks. 

“At Frank’s, for poker night. Same as every Thursday. There was an accident on the turnpike,” he tells her, and his gut twists at the disbelieving look on her face. He steps closer, laying his hand over the top of hers on the countertop. “Diana—”

She pulls her hand out from under his and stands, walking to the sliding glass door to let Frenchie back in. 

“I believe you, Jeff. But call next time, okay?” she says tersely, and he nods. 

He lies awake in bed, and by Diana’s breathing, he can tell she is awake too. He feels guilty, but also angry that he feels guilty when he didn’t do anything wrong. He knows that he deserves this, knows he’s lying in a bed of his own making, but he still hates knowing that it will never go away. Six years later and she’s still watching him like a hawk. He thought it would get better over time, but it hasn’t. 

And then there’s Simon and his new baby. He was surprised by the pang of jealousy that lit up in his chest upon hearing the news, a sensation he’s never experienced before. He’s always considered he and Diana to be childfree by choice, but looking back, he doesn’t really recall weighing in on that decision. Diana never wanted to be a mother, and he wanted to be with Diana, and so it was simply part of the deal. Now, at nearly 39 years old, he suddenly wonders if being a father would suit him.

“Did you always know that you didn’t want children?” he asks out loud, and Diana’s breathing pauses briefly. 

“Where did that come from?” she questions.

“Marcy is pregnant again, and I was just thinking—”

A blustering sigh. 

“Jeff, are we really going to do this right now?” she asks, annoyed. 

“Do what?” he counters, equally irritated by her dismissiveness. 

Diana rolls to her side to face him, propping her head up on a fist. 

“Can you really see yourself giving up poker night, and sleeping in, and playing basketball on the weekend?” she asks, her tone shifting to something lighter. 

“I mean…I don’t think I’d have to give up all those things. Not forever, anyway,” he says. 

“Imagine walking into the office to find your rare book collection in tatters on the floor, covered in drool,” she teases, and he smiles. 

“That would be less than ideal,” he agrees. 

“Imagine having to stay quiet when we make love,” she continues, sliding her hand across his belly. 

“I’m not even sure that’s possible,” he says, now grinning. 

She hitches her leg up over his hip, straddling him, then peels the straps of her nightgown off her shoulders, revealing her breasts. 

“These are, and always will be, exclusively for you,” she says in a syrupy voice, then leans forward and brushes her lips over his. “Help me fall asleep, Jeff,” she whispers. 

Her nightgown finds its way to the floor, as do his boxers. She sits astride him, grinding with her eyes locked on his. She’s possessive, maybe a little desperate, though he’s not sure why. 

“That’s it,” she encourages him, her hands planted on his chest. Her eyes slide closed, her mouth falling open. “Yes, Fox,” she murmurs. 

When she collapses against his chest he rubs wide circles over her back, and his mind instantly returns to its wandering state. 

“What did you say about a fox?” he asks, and she stiffens. 

“What?” she asks breathlessly, her face tucked against his neck. 

“You said something about a fox, during—”

“I’m relatively certain I said ‘fuck.’ Sorry to offend your delicate senses,” she says somewhat defensively, rolling off of him. 

He turns toward her, laying a reassuring hand on her bare hip. 

“I’m not offended, Diana, I was just wondering—”

“Goodnight, Jeff. I have work in the morning, I need to get to sleep, if you don’t mind,” she says in a clipped tone. 

“Okay,” he acquiesces. “Goodnight.”

He waits for her to turn her face towards his so he can kiss her goodnight, but she keeps her back to him. He presses his lips to the curve of her shoulder, lingering there as a confusing mix of emotions swirl around in his chest. 

The life he has. The life he sometimes thinks he might want. The discrepancy between the two. He wonders why now, all of a sudden, he’s peeking over the fence at possibly greener grasses. Why the life he’s been content with for years suddenly doesn’t feel like enough. 

The rush of the waves fills his ears, calming him. A gull calls out, its shriek carried away on the wind as his toes sink into the sun-warm sand. He spies a child further down the shore, a boy with dirty blond hair building something with a shovel and a bucket. There is a feeling of recognition, a sense of knowing, though he cannot recall the child’s name, nor their relationship to one another. 

A strong wave pushes up beyond the waterline, sweeping across the child’s half-finished project and washing it into an indecipherable mound. The child’s shoulders slump, defeated, so he approaches and calls out to him.

“Oh, hey, buddy. That’s okay, you can build it again.”

He kneels down beside the boy and touches the child’s cheek, brushing an errant grain of sand from his downy skin. There’s something in the child’s eyes, something familiar that makes him feel a swell of affection and protectiveness. 

“Just start again,” he tells the child, reassuringly. 

He jolts awake, his heart racing. Frenchie stands from her bed on the floor, alerted by his sudden movement, and watches him for an indication of what’s next. 

“It’s okay, Frenchie,” he murmurs, rubbing his hands over his face. 

The night is still in full swing, only inky darkness peeking in around the blinds. He looks over at Diana’s sleeping form, her back still turned to him and her breathing even. It feels like only minutes have passed since he fell asleep. 

Wired from adrenaline, he stares at the ceiling and waits for the potential of sleep to return to him. His dream has mostly faded, and he grasps at snippets. The beach, he remembers the beach. 

Just start again.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[davekat-sucks]

Hello monsieur davekatsucks. Sorry if this is a lot but your cherub talk reminded me. I am thinking about how hypocritically sexualized all the friendsim trolls were. You know, on the planet whose society's whole deal is that *only kids live there*... and then one of the authors said Chahut would be over 18 earth years of age like that matters? It's a whole different society man, they aren't considered adults until they go off planet, they would think you're a sicko, it's just another "erm she's actually technically 30 she's just a species that ages slower" argument (mixed with a fun flipped sprinkling of "erm actually the age of consent in some places is xyz"!) except all of the antis bought it this time because they personally thought the character was hot and that justifies as many loopholes in their logic as need be to make them not feel icky or ever have to think about their own capacity to do bad things. It's almost like the randomly generated number they stick on the wiki page for a character doesn't matter at all in comparison to how mature they look and act! You're so close to getting it!!!! Idk I'm tired. And randomly paranoid that tumblr won't keep me anon for this ask, if it's not then kmn ig

It doesn't help as well that Chaut also tells Amisia that she knows trolls YOUNGER than her that have already in quadrants. So that implies someone as young as say 3-4 years old, would have a boyfriend or girlfriend. Maybe she doesn't imply outright sex or do pailing, but it shows that trolls in Alternia are aware of how their species reproduce and the consequences if they contribute for the Mother Grub. Just try to comprehend someone as young as that would have to know about sex and said child is told if they don't contribute to sex, they will DIE. By that logic, if someone as young as that could start a quadrant, then that means age gap would be NOTHING since they are all kids and they need to fuck with someone else to make future troll babies. If Alternia is not just a dangerously environmental planet that grooms aliens about racism and violence, it's also a breeding ground for the young. The other time WhatPumpkin backed down on the Hiveswap Trolls being older than the humans was with Hiveswap Act 2 where Elwurd would flirt with Joey. It has been implied in Elwurd's route in Hiveswap Friendsim that she is or close to an age of adulthood that she would have to leave the planet when she tells MSPA Reader that she and her ex (Bronya) wanted to request combat assignments on the same ship so they won't be separated.

Nobody was sure how old Joey was and people think she is 12 or 13. It wasn't until Homestuck Team in a Curious Cat question that they clarify that Joey is 14 years old since she was born in the year 1980, that Elwurd was 16 and Bronya was 17. But that raises the question on what can be considered adulthood at this point if someone like Elwurd and Bronya could request early to be on the same group before they can leave the planet for good. And knowing that most Jadebloods would have be sent to isolation upon adulthood, a request for a cerulean and jade to be together might be rare, but could be possible if planned ahead of time. So would the years of 16-18 are considered the early stages of young adulthood before becoming legal adults? So wouldn't that mean Elwurd will still be older than Joey in that regard because in Elwurd's POV and stance within Alternian society, she is already an adult at that point. And yeah, the trolls in Friendsim are kind of sexualized. At least by the end in Lanque's route where Ardata reminds you that the Hiveswap Friendsim game is for MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. And the Bad End in Lanque's route if you confirm you are an adult, is him and MSPA Reader (You) having a ONE NIGHT SEX STAND. Sure it fades out to black, but they don't beat around the bush that the two of them FUCKED. Lanque is stated in that same CuriousCat question that he is 18. So if the person playing the game was like 13 when they first played this game and would think MSPA Reader is the same age as them.... then yeah, that makes it all worse because of that 5 year age gap.

[fox-guardian]

please PLEASE we need more of that somewhere else au

hi i've been sitting on this ask for a hot minute cuz i've been trying to think of how events in this world would line up with events in the og timeline. like.

i'm trying to figure out gerry's family situation. because he bonds with this universe's martin over their mommy issues, but his mom couldn't have found and gotten obsessed with a leitner, since they don't exist in this world. so how could she become a killer? well, she does it The Normal Way. no spooky shit, she just kills people for her own purposes.

and what about eric? currently i'm thinking he was left in the dark about her whole Thing because in this world, he didn't have the pre-exposure to weird shit via the institute so he's just. basically clueless the whole time they're together cuz he doesn't wanna invade her privacy too much. especially since she gets so Defensive. until gerry gets born and he gets Concerned that his wife is focusing more on the hobbies he's allowed her to keep to herself than on caring for their own child, so then he confronts her and figures out about the murders, and tries to call the police, and she tries to stop him and in the scuffle she blinds him (that's right baby he Remains Eyeless in this au)

she manages to frame him for the murders and he's locked away for ~13 years ish and she raises gerry in that time, giving him So Many Issues and eventually she just. goes back to the murders. but more subtly. only since there's More Murders In The Area Again the cops catch her and free eric and WHOO GERRY HAS HIS DAD NOW and eric loves him so much. they bond and it's wonderful. (this is obviously where we've branched off from lining up with canon this is The Good Timeline)

gerry grows up with his epic and cool dad who bonds with him via music and shitty hair dye jobs and laments that he can't see his son's cool art but gerry still describes it to him and he's like "oh that sounds so cool. i'd get that tattoo'd" and BOOM. GERRY TATTOO ARTIST DREAMS BEGIN.

he starts at a shop, gets really good, his specialty is stylized horror-related tattoos and portraits. years go by, a new guy comes in and wants to start an apprenticeship, gerry takes him under his wing. dude is pretty good and they keep working together, the guy is really good at writing script so he does a lot of text and stuff, and a lot of line-heavy designs. that guy is Martin.

one day martin informs gerry that he's noticed him being off lately, he gets concerned for his health and eventually after a lot of nagging and a one-man intervention, martin manages to get gerry to a doctor and OH NO, THERE'S A TUMOR IN HIS BRAIN but good news is they caught it in time!! now gerry has a big cool scar on his head and owes martin his life.

and then fellas. Fellas. is it gay to open a tattoo shop with the man who you taught how to tattoo and now you feel is your equal in his own right and also who saved your life because he Knew You That Well.

eric thinks so. and he kept making annoying grins about it that only got worse when gerry told him they'd made it official ("dad please" "I KNEW YOU CRAZY KIDS WOULD MAKE IT WORK" "dad" "when's the wedding" "DAD")

can you tell i've been thinking about gerry and martin a lot.

to bring it back to the "somewhere else" part, OG martin works at a coffee shop trying to get by with OG jon and gerry and eric happen to come in one day, and then another day gerry comes in with martin, Excited To Share With Him The Barista That Looks Uncannily Like Him But Older. and OG martin is, of course, shitting his pants because Oh No This Probably Isn't Good BUT THEN HE LOOKS AT MARTIN. and he's SO mad. this martin looks SO MUCH COOLER THAN HIM. he has GOLD FACIAL PIERCINGS and a SLEEVE TATTOO of ROSES. AND HE DOESN'T LOOK DEPRESSED.

he brings this up to og jon and he's just like ".... did you want to get piercings. i mean you know you'd look cool" and jon is just feeling very 😳👀 about that part but martin is just "WHAT, AND COPY HIM?? I CAN'T DO THAT"

so uh yeah that's uh. that's the most detailed i've got so far. i've got a little bit of jon and sasha and surprisingly little for the stokers. but yeah <3 this got long <3

[promptthebear]

Kissmas Day 7

Prompt: An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

CW: Reader is kinda tipsy. Drinking and alcohol present. Set in a bar. Mentions of jealousy, a little spicy at the end but I'd say PG-13 at the most. Some swearing. Casual sex mentions. Billy being an asshole at one point but what do you expect it's BILLY.

“Up for another round?”

You looked over at Billy, your long time friend and occasional lover, and gave him a coy smile.

“Sure. But you know I’m not responsible for what happens after four.”

Billy smiled back, his teeth blindingly white in the dim, golden light of the bar.

“Fine by me. I can be responsible enough for both of us anyway.”

He signalled to the bartender, who ambled over and topped up Billy’s glass before turning to start in on a fresh drink for you, whistling tunelessly all the while. The two of you had a shared love of whisky, though while Billy preferred his neat or on the rocks you were strictly a Manhattan kind of girl. You’d developed a taste for them after you and Billy had started your Friday night tradition at Charlie’s, during a furlough from his first overseas deployment.

The place was a dive, really, but it was all the two of you had been able to afford at the time, with Billy only a couple years past recruitment and you still waiting tables at the diner. A lot had changed since then, including Billy’s tax bracket, but Charlie’s and it’s dusty, well-worn charm was as constant and enduring as the rats in the subway.

You and Billy had tried some more upscale venues, he was always getting invited to some new club by his clients, but your Friday nights didn’t feel right unless you were spending them at Charlie’s. It was your little shared oasis from the demands of Billy’s career and the uncertainty of your shift work, a bubble of low-end whisky and crappy karaoke that kept the two of you afloat from one week to the next.

“Here y’are, hon. With extra cherries, just how you like it.”

“Thanks Malcolm” you replied, pulled from your thoughts as the older man set your drink down in front of you “Nobody makes these as good as you do.”

“Keep up the flattery and your next one might be on the house” Malcolm said, winking at you before he was called away by some patrons at the other end of the bar. Charlie’s was hardly ever really busy, but business tended to pick up when the students flocked back into the city looking for cheap booze, and that tended to keep Malcolm more occupied than usual.

“You know he wants you, right?”

You turned to shoot Billy the stink eye, scrunching your nose in annoyance as you lifted your glass to take a sip and glared at your friend over the rim.

“Like hell. We’re regulars, it’s his job to be friendly, it doesn’t mean anything.”

The conceited smirk you got in reply was just aching to be slapped off Billy’s face. Still, you kept your hands to yourself, not wanting to give him the reaction he was looking for.

“Extra cherries? Free drinks? That’s the bartender mating call, sweetheart. If he was any more obvious, he’d be down on one knee, serenading you.”

You snorted and took another sip of your drink, relishing the way the alcohol burned on the way down. There was already a lovely warmth blossoming in your gut, but it was nowhere big enough or hot enough for your liking.

“And what would you know about that? You’ve never worked in a bar in your life.”

“True” Billy said, pausing to run a hand through his hair “But I know guys. I know how we think, especially around a beautiful woman like you. You just don’t see it because you’re too sweet to know when you’re being lured.”

You flushed in spite of yourself, from frustration as much as embarrassment. Even though you were loathe to admit it, Billy was right. You had always been pretty oblivious about that kind of thing, even when you and Billy were teenagers in the group home together. You’d had no idea he was even interested in you, until a game of seven minutes in Heaven at some party had gotten a little out of hand. Since then, the two of you had been…something. Friends, certainly, but after that the terms became less clear. Billy had dated plenty over the years, and while you’d had some casual hook-ups every once and awhile, the two of you always came circling back to each other in the end, like a couple of bad pennies nobody else wanted.

“Whatever” you snapped back, realizing you’d been quiet for too long “You’re just jealous because Malcolm makes you pay for all your shit.”

Billy laughed, the sound creating a tingle in your belly that melded deliciously with the buzz you already had going. It was all you could do to keep from reaching over and planting one on that beautiful mouth of his, though PDA had always been somewhat taboo between you two. Despite all the wild shit he’d dragged you into over time, that was one line Billy had yet to cross.

“Oh, don’t you worry about me princess. I do alright for myself, but divorced, bearded bartenders in their early forties aren’t exactly what you’d call my target demographic”

You were about to demand an explanation, when Malcolm reappeared, beer in hand. He set the glass down in front of Billy, and nodded towards the back wall.

“Here, Russo. Compliments from the ladies at table three.”

You stole a quick glance over your shoulder, and were rewarded with an eyeful of sparkly miniskirts, flawless beach waves in multiple shades, and cheekbones that wouldn’t have been out of place on the Fashion Week runway. They were all eyeing Billy like a pride of lionesses would a gazelle. But despite their immaculately crafted appearances, you couldn’t help but get the impression they were younger than maybe they wanted to seem. There was something about the way they carried themselves that perhaps a man wouldn’t notice, but that you recognized from personal experience, like looking at a photograph from your own early twenties. Most likely they were undergraduate freshmen out for a good time. That would also explain their choice of drink, something from the “lite” family and most likely cheap going by the smell. Billy would’ve never ordered it for himself in a million years, but it was probably a popular choice with the guys on campus.

“Wow. That’s…brazen”

Billy and Malcolm exchanged a look, though what it meant, you couldn’t say. The sudden shift in their dynamic only served to annoy you further, knowing you were probably being left out of some “bro code” masculine ritual bullshit, most likely Malcolm congratulating Billy for getting noticed. Angrily, you drained the last of your Manhattan, scarfing down the brandied cherries before pushing the glass away and turning to Billy to try and defend yourself.

“I mean…we could be together, right? They don’t know what our deal is. We could be on a date and they just totally cut in.”

“But we’re not” Billy replied, a little too casually for your liking “And it’s not like I’m wearing a ring.”

You glared down at Billy’s bare fingers, hating once again how right he was. Nothing about the two of you would say “couple” to any bystanders. Aside from flirting, which those girls weren’t close enough to hear anyway, Billy hadn’t touched you or done anything that could be construed as more than friendly since you walked in the door. And damn if that wasn’t eating you up inside.

“It’s still rude!” you blurted, trying not to wince at the fact that you sounded like a twelve year old “What if it was some frat guys doing that to me? Would you be okay with it then?”

Billy shrugged, before taking a long sip of his drink. You wanted to scream, to smack the glass out of his hand, grab him by the shirt collar and finally make him see you as something more than his buddy or an easy lay. But you did none of those things. Instead you sat, a tipsy, desperate idiot who was hoping and praying the next thing he said wouldn’t break your heart into a million pieces.

“I mean, if it got us more drinks, I wouldn’t care.” Billy finally replied, looking past you to the sorority crowd at their little table “Besides, you’re not actually my girlfriend so what’s it matter?”

You sat and watched, your jaw nearly dropping open, as Billy then held his drink aloft in the air and nodded towards the girls with a smile. This sent them into a tizzy of whispers, quietly nudging one another and flashing Billy bedroom eyes. In response, Billy winked before draining the last of his whisky and reaching for the beer they’d bought him. He took a healthy drink, and the girls all but squealed as he paused to lick foam from his lips.

Oh, fuck that.

With an angry huff, you slid off your bar stool and snatched up your purse from the counter. Malcolm opened his mouth, most likely to protest or try to deescalate things, but you silenced him with a well aimed pointer finger almost under his nose.

“I don’t need a lecture, thanks.” you all but barked as you fished a twenty and change out of your wallet. “Just make yourself useful and call me a cab”.

The coins you dropped spun noisily across the lacquered wood of the counter top, some of them clattering to the floor and ringing against the tiles like tiny alarm bells. You swore under your breath, and bent over to try and salvage what you could. Billy said something to you while you knelt down, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of your blood roaring in your ears.

Malcolm must’ve been generous with those Manhattans, because no sooner had you righted yourself than the room began to spin. You leaned against the counter for support, wobbling on legs that suddenly didn’t know to hold you up anymore. Billy reached for your arm, but you wrenched it away with an angry shake of your head.

“Have fun babysitting.”

The walk to the door was suddenly much longer and far more treacherous than you remembered it being. Whether they were real or imagined, you could’ve sworn you heard giggles as you lurched towards the exit, and you were silently grateful you’d chosen to wear your kitten heels instead of the stilettos. The last thing you needed was to face-plant in front of Billy’s new fan club. At the very least, you were leaving with as much dignity as you could muster.

You were almost at the door, when you felt someone’s hands coming up to grab your waist. You turned, and in a moment of drunken epiphany, slammed the heel of your hand straight into the stranger’s nose just like they’d taught you in that self defence course from high school.

“Ow! What the fuck’s wrong with you?!”

“Billy!” You gasped, the throbbing in your wrist forgotten as you watched your friend almost double over, clutching at his face “Don’t do that shit!”

“Do what?” he demanded thickly, staring up at you in betrayal “Keep you from walking your drunk ass home in the middle of the night?!”

“Sneak up on a girl in a bar!” you said, starting to dig into your purse for Kleenex “Who raised you, anyway?”

“Same assholes who raised you” came the reply, a little muffled as Billy pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger “Jesus Christ, that smarts.”

You couldn’t help but smile at your old shared joke, figuring he couldn’t be hurt him that badly if he was still sassing you.

“Are you bleeding?” you asked, standing on tiptoe to try and get a better look at his face. Billy waved you off, reaching up to grab the hand that was attempting to dab at his nose and clutching it against his chest.

“Miraculously, no” he said, looking down at you with those big brown eyes “You feel better now that you’ve taken a swing at me?”

“A little” you said, biting your lip and swallowing a rising bubble of guilt “Maybe if this cafe job doesn’t work out, you could let me work for Anvil.”

“You clearly have the reflexes for it” Billy brought his free hand up to your face and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. You all but melted into the touch, too full of alcohol and adrenaline to pretend otherwise “What had you so pissed off anyway?”

“You!” you spat back, the moment vanishing as soon it began. You pulled your hand away angrily, the Kleenex now a crumpled ball in your fist “You’re such a jerk sometimes and you don’t even see it.”

Realization quickly dawned on Billy’s face, you could almost see the light bulb turning on above his head, though it was quickly replaced with his typical, arrogant smirk. This time, when he reached for you, you didn’t try to wriggle away. Instead you let yourself be gathered back into his arms, temporarily mollified by the familiar warmth and smells.

“I see” he crooned softly into your hair “You were jealous, weren’t you baby?”

At first, you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction. Yes, you had been jealous, and in other news the sky was blue and water was wet. But then you felt Billy’s hands start to creep down your back, teasing at your zipper and finally coming to rest just above the curve of your ass. You shivered in spite of yourself, and looked Billy square in the eye, refusing to back down.

“So what if I was?”

Billy’s answer came in the form of his lips pushing roughly into yours. It wasn’t the most graceful kiss you’d ever had, your teeth had bumped together and the angle of it was going to give you a sore neck tomorrow, but somehow you just couldn’t bring yourself to care. Instead, you stood, dumbstruck as Billy hungrily devoured your mouth, sending waves of heat down your spine that settled in a pleasant throb between your legs. You whimpered softly into the kiss, throwing your arms around Billy’s neck and pushing your knees together reflexively, trying to keep yourself upright.

The kiss broke off far too soon for your liking, and you tried to drag Billy back down for more when he chuckled and held a finger up to your lips.

“Later.” he said, his voice a heady rumble only you could hear “Keep that up, and I’ll be bending you over this bar in a minute.”

You pouted, batting your eyes and letting one of your hands start to trail along the buttons of Billy’s shirtfront. He groaned in response, and you could see that his pupils were dark and lust blown. Grinning, you hazarded a glance over his shoulder to the back of the bar where the girls who had started this mess suddenly seemed very interested in their phones and not much else. It was pretty obvious the mood at their table had changed, and you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before they took their night out to another venue.

Feeling emboldened, you stood on tiptoe again, and brought your lips a few inches away from the shell of Billy’s ear.

“Mine” you whispered, relishing the way Billy keened in the back of his throat

“Yours” he replied, giving your ass a quick squeeze “Now, let’s get out of here.”

[madsworld15]

New Fic Alert: lifeline of a promise in a shot glass (Brian/Justin AU)

PART ONE of MANY

Synopsis: What if Justin never met Brian when he was 17, and because of this, his father convinces him to go to Dartmouth and follow a business path? Years later, Justin is 25 and works alongside Ted, who was his mentor as he studied for his CPA the year before, and lives a life of limited socialization due to crippling grief and anxiety caused by the death of his close friend 3 years prior. What happens when Ted pushes him into interacting with the family?

Justin sat at his desk, ignoring the client files he was supposed to be working on. Instead, he fiddled with the personal check in his left hand. It was from his father, part of the reason he had driven the five hours to Philly over the weekend. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts about that visit that he didn’t realize that Ted Schmidt had approached his cubicle until the older man cleared his throat.

“If that’s a check from a client I can show you how to input it.” Ted smiled and jokingly tapped Justin’s arm with his fist.

“No, more like blood money.” Justin sighed, shoved the check into his desk drawer, and turned to give Ted his full attention.

“I feel there’s a story there.” Ted raised his eyebrow.

“More like a tragedy that could rival even the most beautiful of arias.” Justin licked his lips and quickly changed the subject, “You need something?”

“Well, it’s Wednesday, this week has sucked. I thought you’d want to go out with me and my friends to a club downtown.” Ted shrugged.

“Isn’t it a bit sad to show up with a young kid? What will your friends even think?” Justin loved to tease Ted considering the man was 13 years his senior. 

“Honestly?” Ted rubbed his hand over his mouth, “Brian and Emmett will be shocked that I am allowed out in public with a guy as hot as you. And Michael, well if he or his husband show up they’re likely to be supportive of welcoming someone new to the fold.”

Justin glanced at the clock, saw it was 5:45 pm, shut down his computer and stood up. He grabbed his suit jacket off the back of his chair and smirked at Ted before chuckling.

“Also, I’ll have you know, Emmett is only 32, not much older than you. And Brian, Michael and Ben are all 35.” Ted followed Justin to the garage where they parked their cars.

“I still don’t understand why you hang out with me outside of work. I’m a first year and you are practically my boss.” Justin added, fishing his car keys out from his pocket.

“None of my lifelong friends like anything artistic. They think the epitome of human expression happens on the dancefloor at Babylon.” Ted rolled his eyes. “At least with you I don’t have to go to museums or art openings or the opera by myself.”

“Wow. Schmidt. I’m touched. Really, I am. It’s not sad at all that at nearly 40 you rely upon me, a gay man in his mid-20s to keep you alive.” Justin pressed his hand to his chest and gave Ted his best emotional simper.

Ted simply rolled his eyes and responded, “So, Babylon, 9 o’clock?” 

Justin shrugged. “Maybe.” But he knew in his heart he wouldn’t be taking Ted up on his offer. Today was a rough one and he didn’t want his first impression to be that of a morose dickhead.

“If you decide not to, please at least give me a call?” Ted put his hand on Justin’s shoulder and fixed him with a knowing and understanding gaze.

Justin nodded, climbed into his car, and drove off without another word. He went straight to his apartment complex to park his car and drop off his work things. But, he didn’t stick around long before he went out to his favorite bar, Woody’s for a few drinks. Justin wanted nothing more than to forget about today. 

He was two shots of whiskey deep when he felt the presence of someone else next to him. Justin sucked in his lip, sighed, and looked at who had joined him at the bar. The man next to him was older, elegant, and sex on legs. His brown hair was styled in a way that said he cared but wanted the world to think he didn’t give two shits. There was something so alluring about him that Justin couldn’t quite put his finger on and with his current mental state, didn’t have the patience to work out.

“Another,” Justin motioned to the bartender, slurring his words just slightly.

The gorgeous man next to him reached across the bar and grabbed the bartender’s arm. “Jake, don’t pour the kid anymore.” 

“Fuck you. I’m an adult. I can have as many drinks as I want.” Justin was annoyed that this stranger would step in his business like that.

“Fine, suit yourself, but your current petulance tells me otherwise.” The brunette smirked, downed his shot, and then turned his back to the counter and leaned back to troll his eyes across the sea of men in the room at large.

“Besides, I’m not your goddamn mother. I just thought I’d do you a favor. Go home. Sleep off whatever you’re trying to drown away. Trust me, no one likes a sloppy drunk.” And just like that the gorgeous man was gone, stalking after a buff man at the pool tables who had curly black locks and fuck-me eyes.

Justin threw some cash down on the bar and stumbled out of Woody’s. He didn’t want to admit the man had been right, so instead, he stewed in indignation at the nerve of a complete stranger telling the bartender to cut him off. His stewing took him all the way back to his apartment. With a sigh and some fumbling, he managed to unlock his door and step inside.

Justin threw his keys in the dish on his kitchen counter, saw his answering machine was flashing a red 3, and pushed the button to let them play. He crossed to his refrigerator to grab a bottle of water before he stumbled to his couch and plopped down.

Hey Justin. I know today is hard. I’m getting worried about you. You haven’t called me to meet up for coffee in a long time. David and I would love to have you over for dinner sometime. We have big news. Love you. Call me back. Please.

Justin felt the tears prick the back of his eyes as his best friend’s voice rang out over his one bedroom apartment. Daphne meant well, but she didn’t know Jason. How could she possibly understand?

The same way she has been there for you the last 3 years. A voice in his head replied unprompted.

The next message played, and from the first seconds, Justin knew it was Jason’s mom.

Hey, Jus. I went by to see Jason today and saw that you’d recently been there and left some flowers. It warmed my heart to know his closest friend still thinks about him. I wish you’d come by to see us. We miss you dearly. Well you take care. Congratulations on earning your CPA.

The floodgates let loose at Jason’s mom’s words. He’d known her since he was 16 and met Jason at a High School Business competition. She’d always been kind and treated Justin as one of her own. And when Jason died she never blamed him, though Justin sure did.

Justin, baby. Please call me. I don’t want you alone today. 

Instead of getting up to get his phone and at least call his mom back, Justin pulled his legs up onto the couch and curled against himself to cry. It had been three years. Three years since he’d woken up in the hospital only to find out his best friend was dead. Three years of feeling responsible. Three years of drunken nights and zombie days, just going through the motions to prove he was still alive. But was he really?

In the year after Jason’s death, Justin struggled to put his life back together. He couldn’t go from graduating straight into his internship and then CPA exam. No, he had to take a gap year to relearn so much of who he was in order to be the man he was today. His mother would argue that he was doing beyond great and that he was “good as new,” but what she didn’t know and Justin has yet to tell her, Justin was simply a shell.

Jason had been the love of Justin’s life and he couldn’t even talk about it. Daphne knew he was gay, but no one else around him did, besides Ted. It allowed him to put up a wall between himself and his family, but also his coworkers. If he didn’t tell people anything deeper than what appeared on the surface he couldn’t get hurt.

~ BREAK ~

Two days later, Justin was back to staring at the check from his father. Now that he was a CPA he hardly needed financial support from his estranged father, but Justin couldn’t bring himself to fully cut himself off from the man. He was hardly what one would call father of the year, but Justin didn’t have the courage to stand up to the man.

With it being Friday, Justin was one day closer to another day of keeping to himself and ignoring the world around him. He just needed to get through the day, and avoid Ted at all costs, like he had the day before. And then he was scot free for the whole weekend, unless Daphne decided to be her usual pushy self and show up at his door.

“Glad to see you are still alive.” Ted greeted him with a crooked grin. “After you didn’t come out on Wednesday and didn’t call me I figured something terrible must’ve happened.”

“Sorry, I went home on Wednesday and fell asleep. Then when I woke up it was almost 9 and I didn’t feel like going out.” Justin refused to look at his friend and boss. 

“And yesterday?” Ted wasn’t going to let things go. It frustrated Justin to no end, he much preferred Daphne who knew when to push and when to let things drop.

“Jesus, Ted! What are you my mom?” Justin suddenly let his frustration bubble to the surface, “I don’t always want to be around people.”

Ted smiled and then backed off from his questioning. “I completely get that. That’s what makes accounting so great. You can completely shut yourself off from the world.”

Justin continued working on the file at hand. He would rather focus on numbers than the turmoil rolling around in his brain. So, when Ted offered an out for the evening Justin took it.

“Tonight there’s an art opening at my friend Lindsay Peterson-Marcus’ gallery, the Sidney Bloom Gallery. I wondered if you might want to go with me?”

Justin didn’t even think, all frustration at Ted forgotten, “Yes. That would be great. I can’t believe you know the curator at the Sidney Bloom Gallery. It’s been an obsession of mine since I was a kid.”

“I met Lindsay through my friend Brian, but honestly aside from you she’s the only person I know who appreciates the arts.” Ted shrugged and then handed Justin a ticket for the night’s events. “Just meet me out front at 8 o’clock.”

“Will do.” Justin finally looked at the older man and gave him a fake smile. His heart wasn’t really in it to be a functioning member of society right now. 

The anniversary of Jason took more out of him this year than he expected and knew that he probably should just go home and work through those emotions. But, the nagging voice in the back of his mind reminded him that getting out and doing typical activities he enjoyed would help him move forward faster. Not for the first time in the last few years, Justin wondered if he would ever be able to go out with friends and fully be himself, let loose, and enjoy. He wondered if he would ever fall in love again without losing his breath and panicking that Jason would be mad.

So, by 8 o’clock Justin was just parking his car up the block from Sidney Bloom Gallery. He bit his bottom lip as he walked back toward where he was to meet Ted. Going into a big group of strangers like this gave him some anxiety, but not nearly as much as it did a few years ago. As much as he liked to bemoan to his mom about therapy, it was actually helping him.

“Hey.” Justin gave a half wave and then tucked his hands into his pockets, shrugging his shoulders upward. 

“Glad you could make it. I hate showing up to these things alone. Brian teases me mercilessly for it.” Ted smiled and nodded his head for Justin to follow him.

“God the way you talk, Brian must be the biggest dick known to man.” Justin smirked, already feeling grateful to be out with a friend.

“More like he thinks he’s God’s gift to Gay PA.” Ted laughed. 

Once they were inside, Justin felt his grief, anxiety, and worry all float away. He truly loved being immersed in a world of art and the freedom of expression. At times his heart itched to draw and paint, but he hadn’t done either since high school. Ted handed him a flute of champagne, which Justin simply held as he looked around deciding where to start.

“Teddy!” A blonde woman came rushing over. She was gorgeous and wore a maroon sweater and tan slacks that really extenuated her figure.

“Lindsay!” Ted gave the woman a brief hug before throwing his arm out toward Justin beckoning him forward. “This is Justin. I was his mentor all last year as he prepared for his CPA.”

Just then the gorgeous man from the bar a few nights ago sauntered up and wrapped his arm around Lindsay’s shoulder and placed a kiss on her cheek.

“Not another boring stiff. Seriously, Theodore? Must you? I do believe one of you in the boring gays society is enough.”

Ted sighed and opened his mouth to respond, but Justin beat him to it.

He gave his best smile and replied, “Ah you must be Brian Kinney. I’ve heard so much about you. And I must say, you live up to every word.”

“Welcome, Justin. So glad to have someone else in the group who has Brian’s number.” Lindsay chuckled and held out her hand to shake Justin’s.

“Theodore,” Brian immediately turned toward Ted, “What exactly have you been telling this…kid?” Brian looked Justin up and down with a smirk.

Justin wanted so desperately to correct this man on his classification of “kid”, but his anxiety was starting to rise and so he swallowed the champagne in his hand in one go and casually walked away. He knew, from experience, that Ted wouldn’t judge him for this. Instead, the older man would allow Justin to have his space and then check in with him later on down the road. It’s how they always handled social outings together. 

Justin didn’t actively seek public occasions with many people because the accident had caused brain damage that made reading people really hard for Justin. Therefore, his anxiety went into hyperdrive when presented with multiple faces and phrases all at once. He stuck to simple one-on-one conversations, whenever possible, and only pushed that boundary while in therapy.

“You know, when you first showed up with Theodore I thought, there is no way someone as hot as that is willingly hanging out with someone as boring and bland as him. Then, you freaked out over a simple conversation and I understood.” Brian’s voice brought Justin out of his thoughts, and he realized he’d been standing in front of Pollack styled painting for far too long.

Instead of responding to Brian, Justin moved on to the next section of artwork and acted as though the brunette wasn’t there.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what I now understand?” Brian followed him, demanding to be noticed and heard.

“I don’t particularly care. I don’t know you. Therefore your opinion of me or Ted has little bearance on my life.” Justin replied nonchalantly and without tearing his eyes from the colorful art before him.

“Wow, you use big words. Let me guess, Pittsburgh Community College,” Brian continued to goad Justin into giving him his full attention.

Justin rolled his eyes, “Dartmouth. And judging by your pompous, holier than thou attitude I would say you went to some pretentious business school such as Carnegie Mellon or Penn.”

“Oooo an Ivy Leaguer!” Brian grinned as he stepped between Justin and the art, forcing Justin to make eye contact. “What makes you think I didn’t also attend such prestige as that? Why does it have to be local?”

Justin cocked his head and smirked. “It really bothers you doesn’t it?” And then he walked off toward another area of the gallery.

Brian continued to follow him. “What bothers me?”

Justin ignored him and instead turned to discuss the painting on display with none other than Lindsay Peterson-Marcus herself. He found her knowledge and passion for art comforting. She really did love the work she was doing, and Justin found that refreshing.

“Are you an artist, Justin?” Lindsay asked, looking past Justin to smirk at Brian. Justin could feel the man's glare on his neck.

“I used to be. I haven’t picked up a brush since high school.” Justin shrugged and tucked in his lips to smile, knowing that by ignoring Brian it was eating the man alive.

“What bothers me?” Brian asked again, cutting off Lindsay’s reply.

Lindsay gave Brian a searing look and continued, “We never stop being artists. No matter how much time has passed. If you want to paint, who’s stopping you.” 

Justin thought about her words as she squeezed his shoulder and moved on to the next patron. He bit the left corner of his bottom lip and continued to contemplate the artist’s work before him. The mix of blues, purples, and grays made him think of the swirling grief that lived within him, always pulling him just below the surface.

“It bothers you that I don’t give a fuck about you,” Justin replied to Brian, who was still standing there waiting for him. Then he deposited his empty flute on the tray of a passing wait staff and walked out of the gallery into the night.

~~

Tagging my discord pals so they can read! @winderlylandchime @lostcol and @maryp50