#i always had so much gender envy for those characters

[joohoneyboy]

Im in full goblin gamer mode right now (black sweats, black metal hoodie, big headphones) and my housemate just said to me "you look like the emo elder brother in a teen movie" and i have never felt so ✨gender✨

[lorre-verie]

i NEED more recent neteyam content from you, the 5 stages of love thing was just- UGH mwah mwah i love it

can i request neteyam x reader where neteyam's jealous bc reader has been hanging out with other people? but please make the ending happy, i beg (im recovering from your aonung series antics 😭)

everything else is completely up to you i trust ur judgement so much 🥰

tysm anon AAAAA made me smile so much after reading this, i hope dearly that it doesn't disappoint!

“I will always love you.”

🗝 oneshot summary: seems you’ve been paying other people a whole lot more attention lately, and it’s making your dear boyfriend feel uneasy (jealous) inside. blablabla sweetie pie stuff happens, by the end of the night u two are cuddly lovey dovey again 💗

🌿 the lovely couple: neteyam x reader

📓 notes! - reader’s gender is not specified + no implications + no given name (used: [Y/N]) - takes place in the forest

🎞 word count: 2.3k

masterlist

“Yo bro!” Lo’ak waved towards his older brother, Neteyam’s hair whipping around with his head as he turned to see what Lo’ak wanted. 

“What?”

He was in the middle of rebraiding his hair in his family’s marui, something he would’ve asked you to do if he could even find you in the first place. 

Lately, you’d been really absorbed with developing your hunting skills, something he respected and never thought twice about, until now. 

“Did you and [Y/N] break up?” 

“What would even make you think such a thing like that?”  He completely abandoned his delicate ministrations through his hair, looking at his brother like he was insane. But deep down inside, he kinda wondered if you did too.

He rarely saw you these days, except for those fleeting moments where you two would wave at each other when passing by, and whenever he visited your tent you were never there. If he asked your friends they would constantly say you were out hunting, and he dropped his attempts at trying to find you. 

But seriously, hunting for almost the whole day for almost 3 weeks? There had to be SOMETHING else you’d been doing. 

“I never see you together anymore. N’ I heard from their friends there’s someone called Akxyeì in the picture. But if you did, there’s no shame in it bro, it’s all goo—”

Neteyam kicked him out of the tent. 

He huffed as he finished braiding his hair, not bothering to give it a last look before stomping out in search of you. Who the hell was Akxyeì?? 

Deep in his chest came a mixture of doubts and emotions regarding your relationship— had he not been showing you how much he loved you? How come you had to hang out with some other stupid dude? What if it was even worse, what if you were beginning to lose your interest in him? He would die without you, honestly. 

Or what if it was even worse, what if this Akxyeì character manipulated you into falling for him? He didn’t know whether what he was feeling was anger or sadness. But I’ll sum it up for you. 

Envy. 

Everyone stared at him as he stormed into the forest, the expression on his face taut and unreadable. The gossipping elders immediately got into their little groups, discussing what could possibly happen to the two of you in great interest. 

Not mud nor rain stopped him from tracking you, crouching along the forest floor, sniffing through the strong smell of rain in order to pick up your scent. The moment he found it, he bit back a growl; an unfamiliar scent was there with you.

He placed his hand on his forehead, taking deep breaths before heading in the direction you were supposed to be, reaching what the omaticayans dubbed the ‘lovers lake.’ He frowned remembering the nickname. 

Lo and behold, his love was crouched under a large leaf just near the opposite edge of the lake, a lovely smile on your face, like always, as you looked at the rain splashing in puddles on the dirt in front of you. 

Just the sight of you made his heart soar. But his mood quickly plummeted back down once he saw a na’vi boy crouched down behind you, also laughing at the predicament you were both in. 

He had half a mind to take his bow and shoot him in the crotch to ensure he wouldn’t ever be able to clone himself, but he had to bite back the urge. Instead, he resorted to letting out a heavy sigh. 

Just then, you looked up, eyes meeting with his as he stood far across the lake. A pang of guilt ran down your body, but it wasn’t like you were doing anything wrong, right? So then why did your heart drop fifty feet into the ground? 

Akxyeì’s laughter stopped once he saw the deathly stare Neteyam was giving him, which your boyfriend was satisfied with. But not satisfied enough. 

He turned his back on you both, disappearing into the thin fog that was starting to cloud the forest.

“..I have to go.” you whispered to Akxyeì, before diving head first into the lake to catch up with Neteyam. 

The only thing you thought about besides holding your breath was how angry Neteyam must’ve been with you. He totally misunderstood the situation, and it pained your heart to think of what he was thinking right now. You had to explain yourself as soon as possible. 

You frantically searched through the camp, your heart racing with worry and fear. Light pitter patters of rain land on your face, causing you to wipe it every few seconds in order to be able to see. You called out Neteyam's name in every spot imaginable, even his own family’s marui, but he wasn’t there.

As you made your way from tent to tent, you couldn’t help but feel a sinking feeling of worry weighing down on your shoulders.

You checked the hunting groups, but Neteyam was nowhere to be seen. You asked the elders if they had seen him, but they claimed to not know anything. 

You were drenched from head to toe from your swim earlier, and the wind didn’t make it any better, shivers threatening to stop your search. The nosy elders murmured harshly at the sight of you this way, according to them you always seemed so put together. 

You finally make your way back to your own tent, hoping that maybe he might have gone there. Although it was unlikely, it was the only spot in camp you hadn’t checked. But as you pushed aside the flap, you were met with your empty home, no sign of your boyfriend anywhere. 

Panic began to set in as you realised that he was truly gone. You sat down, fingers pressed to your lips as you took in a deep breath, thinking of all the possible places he could be. 

He wasn’t anywhere in camp, so that would have to mean he was still out in the forest. But where? You couldn’t possibly— 

Ah. 

He might be at you guys' spot.

You hadn’t been there in what felt like years. It was where he asked to be your boyfriend. It was so silly of him; a smile crept up on your face as you hopped up through the trees, reminiscing the day. 

You were both admiring the night sky together, counting the stars, and he suddenly whispered, “Can I be your boyfriend?” 

Even now, he denies ever uttering those words, claiming it was a figment of your imagination, and that you heard what you wanted to hear. But you remembered vividly the way he nearly fell off the trunk of the tree when you said yes.

The grass underneath you turned into soft clumps of moss as you continued, the rain slowly stopping as eclipse took over the sky. Finally, you reached the two intertwining trees, standing underneath the archway. 

You didn’t have time to look up before you heard his voice among the cricketing insects. 

“[Y/N].” he said, his voice as low as a sigh, your ears flattening once you heard the utter distress from his throat.

You said nothing, instead climbing up the slanted tree, crouching and setting aside the leaves covering your view. 

And there he was, in all his glory. 

Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan.

His feet dangled over the edge of the tree trunk, his hands planted firmly at his sides. He was hunched over, staring blankly at the ground at which you stood before. 

“Neteyam—” you were barely able to finish saying his name before he interrupted you. 

“Did I do something?” he croaked out, his gaze fixed downwards. 

“What?” you blinked. What was he saying? 

“Of course not,” you said softly, sitting on a spot on the tree just inches from him, you looking directly at his crestfallen face. 

A tear ran down his cheek, reflected by the lights of the stars in the night. He wiped it away quickly, now looking to his left, so that you were met with only the back of his head. 

Your heart dropped at the sound of his sniffles. “Neteyam, Akxyeì is just a friend,” you started, trying to formulate the best way to try and explain the situation to him and then beg for his forgiveness. 

“It’s not about that.” he sucked in a breath in attempt to calm himself down. 

“Why have you been avoiding me?” 

Your heart felt like it was splitting into two. 

You’d constantly been reassuring yourself that you weren’t avoiding him, you were just hanging out with your own separate group of friends, but in truth you basically had been. 

“I’m not avoiding you,” you paused, sighing as you faced the fact that you were going to have to be truly honest with him about your feelings now. 

“I just…wanted to be seen.” 

At those words, he turned towards you, eyes glistening with tears. “Wh…What do you mean by that?” 

“With them, I feel like what I always wanted to be— A strong, brave warrior with talent. With them, I feel like I can just truly be myself, and I don’t have to hold back.” 

He looked at you, beckoning you to go on. 

Your eyes flickered down, unable to meet his eyes as you continued, “Sometimes when I’m out with you I feel like I have to keep up appearances. You’re the next olo’eyktan, the next leader for our people, and I feel like I’m always in your shadow.”

“I get comments from the elders like, “How is it dating the next in line for Olo’eyktan???”” you mocked their shrill voices with a face as you quoted their exact words, the corner of your boyfriend’s lips twitching up in amusement. 

“So..I don’t know. When I finally was seen as a leader myself, with Akxyeì and the others, it felt like I was…free. Free from the expectations that other people put on me.” you bit your lip, imagining how selfish you must’ve sounded to him right now. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Neteyam part his lips slightly.

“..I never knew you felt that way,” he half whispered, looking down at his hand and yours, suddenly aching to intertwine your fingers together.

“It’s..not that I didn’t like being with you, you make me so happy,” you let a small smile appear on your face, “It’s just that it makes me feel worse about myself when people only care that I’m your partner. They don’t see me.”

“So…that’s why I’ve been hanging out with my other friends,” the air felt awkward after you finished, and you felt like you had to add on to your words so that the atmosphere didn’t feel so..empty.

“ I’m sorry I didn’t tell you anything before.”

“.....So I take it you’re still in love with me?” 

You looked up at his totally unserious response, slightly baffled. He had a childishly wide grin on his face. The tears from earlier had already dried up, leaving no trace behind. 

Your mouth was open in surprise of his lighthearted reaction. Had he even heard anything you just said? 

“Just so you know, Akxyeì is totally not more attractive than me,” he pushed on, determined to see one thing and one thing only. 

Your beautiful smile.

And his not-so-cunning ploy worked, as a little grin made its way up onto your face. 

He placed his hand on top of yours, slightly gripping your fingers. “But in all seriousness, I’m sorry too.” 

His mesmerising eyes were widened ever so slightly, as if he was trying to take in more of the sight of you. 

“For what?” you mouthed, the volume of your words barely above a hum. 

“For not noticing how you felt. I’m supposed to be good at gauging other people’s emotions–” he sighed, before you stopped him mid sentence with one of your fingers to his lips. 

“That’s why I didn’t want to tell you anything. I was worried you’d feel even more pressured with having to worry about me too, besides everything else already going on,” you tilted your head downwards, glancing once more at the barely illuminated bark you sat on.. 

You wanted to tell him more, to explain further, but the doe look in his eyes as he gently took your finger off his mouth with his free hand told you he’d already understood everything. 

He flipped your hand around, placing a soft kiss on your wrist, maintaining full eye contact with you as he did it. The motion sent butterflies raging frantically in your stomach, the thrill causing you to blush slightly. 

“So. Tell me more about your friends.” he smirked, knowing the full extent of his charm and what it did to you. 

You breathed out, nodding before sitting directly next to him, your hips touching his. You began to recite to him all the fun little adventures you had with your hunting group, and the stupid things Akxyeì would get himself into. 

You couldn’t help but smirk a little bit whenever you felt Neteyam’s hand tighten its grip around yours whenever you mentioned the other boy. 

“And then, one other time- Teyam?” you felt his head weigh on your shoulder. Was he…asleep? 

A small pause followed as you stopped talking, and you just froze completely before narrowing your eyes. 

“..You aren’t asleep, are you?” you rolled your eyes, feeling a chuckle vibrate on your shoulder from his throat. 

You always knew how to read him, and he found it amusing that you were the only person he could never fool. It just added onto his everlasting appreciation for you. 

You watched him as he pulled his head up off your shoulder, smiling as he looked at your face with such fondness that it made you feel weightless. 

“I love you, [Y/N].”

masterlist

aw how sweet 😊 isn’t that so sweet?? i'm so sorry if this genuinely sucked ass cause i have no clue how to write sweet stuff..but thank u so much for your req anon! thank u all for 500+ followers, it truly means so much to me guys 😭🙏

i hope you guys enjoyed this! as always, thank u for stopping by my blog 💗💚

much love, lorre.

[jabberwock-islanders]

Characters We Desperately Want To Look Like (a slideshow)

Even though some of them contradict each other a little bit lmao

Each attached image will have a written version of what's written in the image

Ethan from Spooky Month

Twink goals

Red and black alt aesthetic

Something about him speaks to the trans masc within us

Dyed hair <3

Also shaggy hair being tied up in a small ponytail <3

He is our favorite flavor of man and we need to be that flavor of man

Honestly if we had to choose one character in this list to model our entire visual identity after, it would be Ethan

Ibuki Mioda from Danganronpa

Scene girlie!!

She's so colorful and vibrant and we want to Bleed Neon

Dyed hair part 2 <3

Accessorizing school uniforms? Yes!!!

Piercings and bracelets and cute stockings and and and and

This is one of the few times we'd accept wearing a skirt tbh

Sometimes you wanna dress like your entire personality is Paramour, fight me

Light Yagami from Death Note

Hear me out

He's a plain brunet what else is there to want

Also we shair hair colors! That's something!!

Idk what else to say he's just gender envy in the most normal way possible

And sometimes you just wanna be normal

Also he calls to the burnt out gifted kid sleeping in our bones

Cole from Ninjago

HEAR ME OUT.

Big strong teddy bear

We long to hold the people we love with strong arms like those

Idk man sometimes we long to be a Big Strong Man

Shaggy tied up hair part 2 <3

(Yes I know I'm using fanart here but it proves our point better than Lego Man ever could)

Honestly, this is the least realistic on our list LMAO

Izuru Kamukura from Danganronpa

Just look at him

He's the emo twink of everyone's dreams

We either want short hair or super long hair and there is no in between, can you tell? /silly

Also, pale pretty boy aesthetic

And we're already pale as shit so it's perfect!!

While Hajime isn't on this list, he's an honorary mention

Kazuichi Soda from Danganronpa

Pathetic boy appeal

His fashion sense is Trash but in a good way

Sometimes you just wanna look like the sad pathetic loser boy you are

Also pink!!

We vibe with pink sometimes

Beanies are always a win

(Tbh I think we like him better in blue than yellow)

(His jumpsuit is fucking Piss Yellow, denim blue will always beat piss yellow)

Leon Kuwata from Danganronpa

GIVE ME YOUR WARDROBE SIR

Tbh I think we just desperately want to live his life and become him in any and every way (we have a Leon introject in case you were wondering LMAO)

His jacket?? Hand it over???

Giant safety pin accessory is so real and we wish we had one to put on our jackets

Ignoring the facial hair though

Anyways HIS RINGS we want his rings

And his chain

Lloyd Garmadon from Ninjago

Hear me out part 3 I suppose

Sometimes. Sometimes you wanna be a golden retriever boy

We wanna be his specific brand of cute

Like look at him, he's fucking Cute

The hair style is also part of the appeal

In case you haven't noticed, we love men with mid-length hair

Also his bangs??? GOD he's so gorgeous

We'd do so much to be a gorgeous boy like Lloyd

So. Much.

Selever from Friday Night Funkin' (Mod)

...I can't defend this one tbh

The nonhuman desire to just... be a silly little demon guy

There isn't much more I can say, he's just Gender

Also his outfit? We want that shit

The boots... We would kill for those boots

Tbh he's just black and red part 2

Even though he's more maroon than red

He's babygirl, what can I say

Anyways, thanks for coming to my Ted Talk

[anabdaniels]

I have a request if you don’t mind. I would love to see how Agent Whiskey is when it comes to dating a trans masc person. Maybe the reader has a crush, but always sees him flirting with women, and isn’t sure. It could end in a sweet smut where he shows you how handsome the reader is. Im just so feral for this man and I know he’s so sweet to his lovers 🥰🥰🥰

Hi there! First of all, forgive me for the eternity it took me to write this hahaha. I loved your request, and yes, we know Jack is a sweetheart with his partners. Hope you enjoy it! 🥰

Heart to heart, eyes to eyes

Paring: Agent Whiskey x TransMasc!Reader

Word counting: 3.4k

Rating: +18

Warnings: Slight mentions of transphobia, minor mentions of male unpleasant behavior (not related with our cowboy, as always), reader does binding and haven't done any gender-affirming surgery (Is this the right name of it? I don't trust google 100% with these topics.), slight smut, fingering, unprotected sex, implied age gap (only if you squint), no beta (we die like half of Pedro's characters).

A/N: This is a new field of writing for me and I did my research to not mess up with anything, but I highly appreciate (respectful) corrections in case I had write anything I shouldn't.

Masterlist

Despite not being the most antisocial person in the world, you used to run from some of the Statesman parties, even after working there for a few years, you still couldn't understand how everyone in the company seemed to have so much disposition for parties and alcohol.

That was one of the occasions when you made an exception and attended the party, regretting immediately when you saw that some guys from another distillery had been invited; while Statesman people could drink a whole barrel of bourbon and still keep their common sense and morals untouched, those fellas from the other company were a bunch of douchebags even before they started to drink.

You looked over the party to find your group and, judging by the expression on their face, you weren’t the only one hating the presence of the guests. You approached your friends with a slight smile, stopping next to them.

“Y’all could’ve texted me about those assholes, I’d have come back home.” You said letting clear your dissatisfaction.

“And have one less person to hate ‘em with us?” Tequila retorted before taking a sip of his bourbon.

“I hate to be this type of person, but I’m with Tequila on this.” Ginger affirmed in her usual calm tone.

“Seems that at least one of us is having fun with them.” You pointed while observing Jack seeming to be having the time of his life while talking to the guys along with Champ, envying those scumbags for a moment, after all, it must be amazing to have Jack that excited and close to you. You took a sip of your Marguerita to ignore your thoughts, not wanting to let your teenager-in-love-like thoughts take over. During all that time you worked at Statesman, you could see Jack having most of the ladies sighing for him, but you never got anything concrete when the subjects were men. He seemed to be sympathetic and friendly with most of them, but nothing more than that. You weren’t up to being the one to find it out, only the scenario of making your friendship with him weird with your feelings already made you uncomfortable enough.

Your wandering thoughts were cut when you saw Jack walking towards the group, rolling his eyes and loosening his tie after taking the remaining whiskey in his glass at one sip.

“This job ain’t worth the stress.” Jack sounded drained “Those fellas can’t be for real.” He shook his head and leaned on the wall next to you.

“What was it this time? All women are gold-diggers or the world is losing its values?” Ginger rolled her eyes as she remembered the miserable few times she had to talk to them.

“Yeah, they complained ‘bout women, even that I doubt they ever touched one and started with the whole anti-gay bullshit. Next time Champ calls them, I ain’t showing up.” Jack snorted and rubbed his temples.

“Now that ya back, can we get outta here?” Tequila questioned without disguise how much he was hating every minute of that and Jack agreed promptly.

As it was usual when the parties were horrible, the four of you left the bottle-shaped building and walked to the bar on the dependences of the distillery. Jack unlocked the front door and turned on the lights, already walking behind the counter, making himself comfortable with a glass of whiskey. You smirked at the opportunity to mess with him a bit and sat on one barstool, resting both elbows on the counter.

“Can you get me a drink handsome?” you pressed your lips together, doing your best to pretend you weren’t feeling butterflies in your stomach. Engaging your little joke, Jack threw a dishcloth over his shoulder and placed a toothpick on the corner of his mouth while approaching you.

“And what such a beautiful thing likes to drink?” he asked with his hands resting on his side of the corner, smirking with the charm that only Jack Daniels could have.

“A Statesman with coke.” You emphasized the Statesman part, looking from the crown of his Stetson to the top of his boots, daring the most you were capable of at the moment to clarify what you meant, feeling your legs trembling with the chance of it getting wrong. Jack wasn’t naive, he knew very well the difference between a joke between two friends and an actual flirt, and he was aware that you weren’t joking with him.

“You ain’t only a gorgeous face, hum? Have an amazing taste either.” Jack winked at you and moved to grab the drink for you.

If wasn’t for the rush of adrenaline, you would’ve noticed Ginger and Tequila chuckling and nudging each other with their elbows while observing you and Jack interacting, both staying at a safe distance to not interrupt the moment since they had noticed long ago that you had a little crush on Jack.

Despite feeling your heart beating in your throat, you kept a neutral expression as Jack handed you the glass and drank from it, running your tongue over your lips as you tasted the drink, mesmerized by how talented Jack seemed to be doing anything he tried.

“I’m starting to believe that the looks of the bartender match the quality of the drink.” You pointed in a soft tone.

“Is this good or bad?” Jack asked with a smirk, his lips glistening wet by the whiskey.

“In your case, is fantastic.” You shrugged with a playful smile, taking another sip of your drink.

The moment was interrupted by someone’s phone ringing, you and Jack looked towards the other side of the room, seeing Ginger picking up her phone with a not-amused expression, rolling her eyes a few times during the call. When she was done, she sighed and finished her drink.

“Apparently Champ talked too much about our technologies to those bastards and now they want to hear more.” Ginger explained unpleased with the situation.

“My condolences.” You said playfully and she chuckled.

“This is the moment I consider starting to believe in supernatural forces to ask ‘em for help.” Ginger said calmly and looked at Tequila “I’ll not suffer by my own.”

“I’ll get another buzz and meet ya halfway.” Tequila answered without getting what Ginger was trying to do, making her raise her eyebrows and tilt her head slightly towards you and Jack, only then making him realize what she meant. “Y’know what? I’ll cause some deficit on the good drinks Champ saves for those assholes.”

Promptly they left, leaving you two alone; you felt a few butterflies in your stomach as you realized that, worrying about all the previous flirting jokes. Jack took a sip of his whiskey as he walked around the counter, sitting on the stool next to you.

“I thought you’d never admit it.” Jack said with a smirk, shamelessly looking at your mouth and then back to your eyes.

“What do you mean?” you questioned with a nervous chuckle, playing with the cup coaster on the counter.

“I ain’t blind, sugar. I’ve seen the way you looked at me.” He explained with no flourishes, making you turn red as the Budweiser cans on the fridge.

“Don’t get me wrong, Jack. I know we’re friends and co-workers and I get it if you didn’t like what I’ve said…” you got interrupted by Jack’s thumb pressing gently against your lips, making you weak on the heart.

“Calm down, sweetheart, I’ll not bite.” He leaned slightly forward to your face “Only if you ask.” Jack whispered and winked at you, keeping his hand on your face.

“So, you’re fine with it?” you asked hesitantly, fearing the answer. You knew Jack’s reputation as a heartthrob, but you always saw him with women, short, tall, black, white, skinny, fat, blond, brunette, ginger, blue eyes, dark eyes, everything, but always women.

“I’m more than fine.” He chuckled and caressed your cheek, leaning a bit more and pressing a gentle peck on your lips. You sighed louder than you expected and threw your arms around his neck, not hesitating to enjoy the opportunity life had just thrown on your lap, letting yourself go as he turned that into a real kiss.

Jack wasn’t clueless, realizing faster than the blink of an eye that you were into him and he couldn’t be more satisfied with it, after all, he was far away from having no interest in you, in fact, Jack had been interested in you since the very first day he saw you at the distillery, and after you started to work on the agency laboratory with Ginger, he was always finding an excuse to go there, but when you seemed to not be up to take a step huger than friendship even with the signs that you were into him, Jack conformed himself with being simply your friend. And, in your defense, at the beginning, you thought that Jack was only being sympathetic with you and when he started to frequently show up at the lab, you assumed that his thing was with Ginger, since they had a pretty strange relationship, seeming to hate each other sometimes, just to be all friendly and holding each other the next day.

You got lost in your thoughts as you processed that you were truly tucked between Jack’s arms, feeling your heartbeat wilder than ever as the adrenaline ran through your body. When Jack got out of his stool and stood between your legs with one hand in your hair and the other on your hip, you felt a hint of disappointment at the bottom of your heart, but at the same time you weren’t surprised; he wouldn’t be the first man to want to hook up with you in an arguable place, away from everyone.

But, of course, Jack Daniels wasn’t an ordinary predictable man.

Realizing that you seemed slightly tense, Jack assumed that he had moved a bit too fast, so he leaned slightly back, keeping his hands on you and resting his forehead against yours with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“Y’ okay, honey?” he asked quietly, gently rubbing his thumb on your hip.

“Yes.” You nodded while assimilating the unexpected changing of events “Just processing everything.” You admitted the truth and chuckled, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“We have all night for you to put yourself together.” He whispered and pressed another soft kiss on your mouth, making you smile against his lips.

As both of you expected, at some point in the night Jack was requested to get back at the party. You got back with him, imagining that he would act as always around you in front of other people and you couldn’t be more mistaken. He walked holding your hand all the way back to the central building and didn’t let go of you once you were back at the party, randomly passing one arm around your waist or caressing your fingers while speaking with everyone.

It seemed to take forever until the party ended and you were thanking all the possible existent deities for it. Catching you by surprise, but not that much since you knew him very well, Jack offered to take you home and you accepted without thinking much before answer, but you sure were thinking even less when you invited him to enter while he was parking in front of your house.

Everything after that seemed like one of the thousands of thirsty dreams you used to have; the first 20 minutes you two spent complaining about everything you could at that party were fine, but then came that miserable elephant-in-the-room moment, that both of you knew that was necessary to talk about, but wasn’t that easy to start, so the most you dared to do was kiss Jack’s cheek and try your lucky nestling on his arms, being warmly hugged by him while his fingers caressed your scalp, ending up with both of you falling asleep on the couch.

Heaven.

Undoubtedly you were feeling in heaven those last weeks.

On the years of friendship, you had already realized that Jack was an incredible person, but you were amazingly surprised with how much of an amazing boyfriend he could be and how proud he seemed every time he had the chance to show you off. Every time he saw you around Statesman, he wouldn’t waste the chance of holding or kissing you, always seeming to be the happiest someone could be.

You got to spend a lot of time at each other’s house, and that Saturday wasn’t different. Jack had picked you up in the middle of the morning and as usual made sure to keep you comfortable and papered while he cooked lunch, only the smell of it making you hungry. Once the meal was done, somehow you ended up tucked on Jack’s lap while eating, being distracted a few times by him cleaning the food sauce from the corner of your mouth or simply leaning to kiss the top of your head or the curve or your neck. The cold winter afternoon made the bed way too inviting, so you and Jack got cozily under the covers, talking about a lot of stuff, per usual, Jack didn’t waste the opportunity of dropping a few flirting comments, extinguishing your focus on anything else.

Another thing that wasn’t a novelty, there was a reason why the two of you had spent a good amount of time making out, only making out.

Yes, you were completely feral for Jack and he needed no effort to throw your libido in the heights, but you needed some time before taking a bigger step, still unsure of how it’d work, after all, the most you were in love with Jack, he still was a middle-aged southern cowboy and you didn’t have the best experiences with this category of men.

As usual, you worried only about enjoying the moment, not being able to say when you got mounted on top of Jack, sighing heavily as his hands moved over your back, thighs, and ass. With the passing time, things started to get more complicated to manage; you started to feel your body heat getting almost unbearable, your breath was getting complicated to catch since Jack seemed focused on leaving you breathless, and the soft nudge of his restrained erection between your legs didn’t make you any favor.

Diving on your desires, you sneaked your hands under Jack’s shirt, groping his skin as you moved your hips involuntarily against his fly, sighing heavily against his lips. Following your rhythm, Jack allowed his hands to travel over your body, sneaking in your t-shirt, and making you contort involuntarily under his calloused palms. You didn’t think much about what you were doing as you completely untucked Jack’s shirt from his jeans and started to open its buttons.

Your wave of courage was cut at the very second you realized Jack’s hands reaching your binder, making you freeze and lean slightly backward. Jack realized immediately that something was wrong and cupped one of your cheeks.

“What’s wrong, sugar?”

“I might’ve not told you some details between the lines.” You spoke quietly, sitting on his thighs “I haven’t made any surgery after the transition.” You looked away chewing your bottom lip “And now you probably see me as a woman.” You couldn’t hold back your pre-judgment, after all wouldn’t be the first time someone invalidated who you were simply because you didn’t feel the necessity to make any surgical change.

“Hell no.” Jack retorted without second thoughts, getting sat on the bed on a jump, keeping you cooed on his lap “I’d never start to see my man as a woman because of a little detail like this. You’re a guy, if I wasn’t aware of the details, I’d surely think you always have been a man… No, I mean, I know you always have been a man, but I think you got what I’m trying to say.” You couldn’t hold back a chuckle with his little desperation to explain himself, afraid to sound like a jerk.

“I got what you mean, don’t worry.” You smiled and leaned to give a peck on his lips “So, you’re fine with it?”

“Not wanting to sound harsh, but I don’t care about these things. I like who you are, I like you being a man, I’d like if you were a woman, or if you weren’t neither of them.” He confirmed calmly, catching you by surprise with his last remark.

“Someone has made his homework about the queer community, hum?” you questioned playfully, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Sincerely I got lost about some stuff, but was quite interesting.” He confirmed resting both hands on your thighs, caressing your skin softly.

“Don’t worry, you’re getting the way.” You said in a melted chuckle and leaned to press your lips on his, sighing as he grabbed you by the hips, flipping you to lay on your back.

Once more you saw yourself lost in Jack’s kisses, having a hard time concentrating on resuming your task, getting rid of his shirt. The further you got into removing each other’s clothes, the more you knew you’d be obsessed with having the warm feeling of his skin all over yours, especially when he was that gentle with you, even when was clear that he was as thirsty as you.

Any crumb of hesitation you could have left vanished as you dived into the attention of your handsome cowboy and, once his idle fingers reached between your legs, everything was a blur in your mind: his mustache tickling against your neck, his free hand caressing from the middle of your chest to your lower stomach, his velvety voice whispering and mumbling about how handsome you were, how soft you felt on his hands, how much he was planning to make you lose your straight thoughts even more. There was no room for you to do more than dive in on his teasing and fall apart on his fingers, contorting and whimpering as your orgasm made your muscles feel like jelly.

Fascinated by the vision of you boneless, Jack couldn’t help himself, picking you and nestling you on his lap as you calmed down while he soothingly rubbed your back. When you recovered strength enough to straighten up, you didn’t beat around the bush to get mounted on Jack’s thighs, eager than ever to go forward, wondering how better that could get.

“I hope all your bragging about your stamina at Statesman wasn’t a lie, ‘cause you might’ve just encouraged my dirty thoughts.” You said with a soft smile, hanging your arms on his neck.

“Y’ can bet I can deal with your naughty, honey.” Jack affirmed with his usual cocky grin, grabbing your hips and pulling you closer, shamelessly letting his hard cock nudge your throbbing core, taking a quiet whimper of you.

“Now that’s some good news.” You retorted playfully and moved further, slowly taking him inch by inch inside you. Wanting to savor that moment, you sank your face into the curve of his neck, taking a second to enjoy everything going on.

Amused by your contemplative manner, Jack wrapped one arm around your waist and leaned you against the pillows, kneeling between your legs without moving your upper body away from his. Bracing himself in one arm while keeping the other around you, he started to move at a calm pace. Your moan came out louder than you expected, but you couldn’t help it while feeling that good, all cozy while nestled in Jack’s arms, surer than ever that letting him know you had a crush on him was the best decision you ever made in your life.

Getting that deep in your thoughts, only worked to make everything feel even more intense, making you unconsciously squirm and sink your hands on Jack’s skin, squeezing it tight.

“Everything alright, love?” Jack asked as he felt you tensing up.

“Yes.” You nodded slowly, needing a bit of effort to open your eyes and look at him “Just got a bit carried away here.” You admitted and leaned your head, resting your forehead on his jaw, smiling with his low chuckle.

“You better get used to it, beautiful boy.” He answered playfully and kissed the top of your head “I have no plans to stay away from you.” Your smile widened and you tucked yourself even more against him, having no doubts that he meant it.

Tagging: @missladym1981

[prime-adeptus]

AND OUR LOVE IS A GHOST – HANZO SHIMADA X READER

Hanzo faces another ghost from his past.

CONTENT.⠀gender-neutral reader. angst. hanzo and reader are exes. unhappy reunions.

NOTES.⠀part of an Overwatch ficlet collection I've started on ao3 :) this one's dedicated to @kakujis, the Older Brother Character enjoyer <3 I couldn't let us teehee over him too much so here's some angst to balance it out

Hanzo has faced more than his fair share of trials and tribulations in his life.

Those, however, pale in comparison to where he stands now—injured on the doorstep of someone he had selfishly abandoned years ago. It hurts his pride that he was even in this position. He knows he’s damn good with a bow and arrow. He spent years honing his skill, doing everything he could to take back the honour he lost. But it wasn’t enough to fight against a machine.

Though he could treat his injuries himself (he always does; when you are alone, all you have to turn to is yourself), these are too much for him to deal with by his lonesome. He’s not sure what hurts more. The cuts and bruises steadily marking up the skin of his torso or the emotionless stare you’re giving him. He deserves it, he supposes. He’d left you behind without so much of a letter, gone under the radar and never contacted you again. At the time he thought it was for the best. Without anything left to his name, having been stripped of all he had, he didn’t deem himself worthy of you. He was too caught up in his hurt and completely disregarded you, the one who loved him, cared for him—

“Whatever you’re thinking about, stop it,” you speak up, tone laced with impatience and remnants of anger. “Just come in.”

Hanzo tries not to wince as he follows you inside your home. It’s different from what he remembers—it feels… bleak, barely lived in. He doesn’t have the time to mull over what he’d done to you when you’re pulling him by the sleeve and urging him to sit down. He’s left by himself for a few moments as you disappear into a room before reemerging with a sleek glove in your hand.

You don’t say a word as your hand presses against his chest, a faint white-yellow glow emerging from the glove as pleasant tingles surge through his system. Without knowing it, he closes his eyes and lets himself succumb to relief, his pain and tension leaving his body with each touch.

“A friend of mine gave this to me when he visited.”

The mention of this friend has his eyes snapping open. There’s something akin to irritation—envy—stirring in his chest, but he begrudgingly lets it go. After all, what right does he have to feel possessive of you?

“I’ve been volunteering at the hospital as a nurse. They’ve been understaffed since the last Null Sector invasion.” You’re not even looking at him as you talk, instead focusing on treating him. After a glance at the holopad by your side, you withdraw and step back from him. “What are you doing here?”

“I…”

“There’s nothing for you here, Hanzo.”

His heart sinks. It constantly dawns on him how no apology will ever make up for how he left you—he’d taken a piece of your heart and broken it beyond repair.

“Instinct,” he finally says. “My heart led me here.”

You roll your eyes, an exasperated scoff leaving your lips. “Five years late?”

He knows you don’t owe him forgiveness. Hell, he knows he doesn’t deserve it. Still, seeing what used to be love in your eyes turn into resentment hurts him more than any blade ever could. The walls you’d let down for him were built back up, stronger than before, and there’s no way he can possibly get through.

“You’re still living here after Null Sector’s invasion?”

“Some of us can’t just leave things behind to go on our own,” comes your response, quick and snappy. You sigh, your tense features softening just the slightest. “I have friends and family here. I have to help where I can.”

“I… am sorry. I hope they are safe.”

“Sorry enough to help?”

Your words are hauntingly familiar, reminding him of yet another loved one he failed—the young shrine maiden who’s turned to a life of vigilantism to do what he couldn’t. He bites on the inside of his cheek, his eyes downcast. For a man who’s spent years with the most beautiful of words, all of them are lost to him under your glare. Guilt, regret, sorrow—feelings that are even more familiar swirl in his chest, drags him into the depths of the dark.

“I’ll let you stay. It’s late.” You sniffle, and his heart sinks. “But I want you gone by the morning. I don’t care where you go, just… don’t come back.” Then, in a barely audible whisper, you continue, “Please.”

All he can do is watch as you disappear into a silhouette walking down the corridor, leaving behind nothing but faint sobs in your wake. How many tears have you shed because of him? How dare he expect your forgiveness when he has done nothing to earn it? Your agreeing to help him had already been unexpected—miraculous—enough. A selfish part of him wonders if he can ever make it up to you, take away your hurt by being a better man for you.

Hanzo no longer dreams. There is nothing to wish for, nothing he will ever get back. But for you, he dreams that you’ll find it in your heart to look at him the same way you used to again. He’ll do anything to make amends and treat you better if you consider him deserving of a second chance.

For now, he’ll do as you wish and leave just like he did all those years ago. He can’t bear hurting you anymore.

[laufire]

tell me more about the Bruce Wayne womb envy theory

LOL. alright then.

tbh this was mostly a joke, born from this post (+ probably influenced by the way one of my mutuals talks about david 8 in the alien prequels but that's neither here nor there xDD)

(david 8 character of all time though. I have mixed opinions on both of those films but he as the common thread uniting them is *chef's kiss*)

(also I don't really believe these men / "men" in david's case want to be pregnant but that's because I can't conceive of anyone wanting to be pregant if nature has spared them the ability to become so whether they choose to or not, but I acknowledge those are MY gender issues. bruce can have others if he wants xD)

but if I was to take it seriously and run with it, I'd relate it to how I can see bruce... wanting to have had his kids earlier in life. seeing them grow, getting to enjoy them in those early stages when they're cute and fully depend on you and don't argue back, etc. that desire would be tinted with guilt in dick's case and to a lesser extent tim's, I suppose. I've always seen dick's parents and the environment in the circus presented as a positive one for dick (I have yet to read any of that court of owls shit lol), but I do think the drake's were neglectful/emotionally distant/not people tim could rely on, just not in the way or to the extent fanon presents. otoh... well, there's an argument to be made that maybe the waynes and the drakes weren't so different, or were around the same place in the spectrum of parenting in terms of good versus bad (source: thomas backhanding bruce in batman #430), and that bruce might've had blind spots with them as a result. I have yet to read any comic where bruce judges the drakes parenting though I wouldn't be surprised if they did exist, cause he's hypocritical like that. either way, I think tim's not in the same place as dick in this scale of guilt vs. saviour complex lol.

meanwhile in jason's, cass's, and damian's cases, that wouldn't be an issue because he'd seen it as sparing them pain / saving them. which wouldn't be innacurate, although there's an argument about whether being raised by bruce would've fucked them up in other ways lol.

and ironically, I think bruce would feel this saviour complex the most with jason, despite his situation with the todds (no matter whether you believe they were shitty parents or just fellow victims of circumstance or something in between) being objectively not as much of a shitshow as being raised the way cain raised cass OR being raised within a cult with the expectation of eventually leading it, like damian.

I attribute this to how bruce's classism always made him perceive taking jason in and adopting as the act of saving jason, both from his situation and from jason's "fate" of becoming a violent criminal himself, while cass and damian came to be in bruce's care under different circumstances. and second, to how bruce perceives jason's abilities vis a vis cass's or damian's. cass and damian were trained, obviously weren't born knowing, but they are "prodigies", if only because of how young they started. bruce doesn't even seem to contemplate the possibility of them distancing themselves from the fight. moreover, jason was trained later and by him, specifically because bruce felt lonely, all of which would add a feeling of responsibility for jason's end. but most of all, due to his death (+ might makes right + just world fallacy + other such fun things), jason's abilities are perceived by bruce as lesser, and as less of an ~inherent part of him.

so, yeah, jason will always trigger his saviour complex in an extra fun way xDD

all of this to conclude that now I have this vision of bruce having a weird dream soon after jason's death where things are happy at home (his parents are alive in the dream, because that's a prerequisite for a happy one), and dick is a much younger kid than he was when they first met (it's sort of implied dick is also biologically his but not outright stated), and he's pregnant, and he knows it's with jason, who's safe and sound encased in bruce's body, where nothing can reach him.

(I wrote a bruce + grief fic very recently already but this idea is also tempting me now ñalsdjfasf)

[imaginarylungfish]

AUDHD 👏 GOJO 👏

I’m right there with you so, in true AuDHD style, I’m zooming into your inbox to infodump because I’m ALWAYS desperate to scream about this (shout out to @ellionwrites for patiently and compassionately listening to my unpolished rambles about a lot of this stuff in private)!

I actually have a LOT of thoughts about 236 and how it’s Gojo’s “unmasking”. That chapter is really emotional for me because of how well it articulates my personal experience of navigating the world as an autistic person. This post (and especially its tags) from right after it came out says it in a much more concise way, but Gojo’s upset pout breaks my heart because, to me, that's evidence of “no matter how much you try, people will misunderstand you” and damn… that hits a little close to home 🥲

It’s why his death had such a strong impact on me, especially when it felt like half the internet was ignoring the actual words Gojo said to claim “he never cared about that stuff, he was arrogant from the start and you just misread him". In combination with “it was the best ending for a character like Gojo" — right after we find out how deeply lonely he’s been, never able to truly connect with anyone after Geto left? Well, it was mindblowingly meta and, therefore, pretty painful to read.

I wrote an analysis of Gojo’s character in 236 and, even though I wasn’t viewing him through an autistic lens for that particular post, I think my words under the cut still read that way — that’s how baked into his character I think this stuff is! I genuinely think the two pairs of sorcerers sitting with their backs to each other is a visual representation of the double empathy problem. I'm not sure autistic and allistic people can ever arrive at a place where we fully understand each other, but that doesn’t mean autistic people have to carry all the burden and remain isolated. That’s why it’s meaningful that Gege makes it clear that all the characters care about each other, even if they don’t see eye-to-eye.

Glad to see you shouting about this reading of his character, because I haven’t seen many people talking about it. Some people are very hostile to ND headcanons, especially for characters as popular as Gojo, which is why I haven’t really talked about it much myself. However, I feel like any fellow AuDHDers who read my fic must be side-eying me constantly because I don’t think I’m subtle about how I write Gojo’s character at ALL 🤪

Maybe it’s time to be brave and publicly share my 236 AuDHD!Gojo manifesto for the five of us who are standing in a circle screaming about this! Cheering you on and sending lots of love ♥️

Ahhhhh thank you so much for this infodump!!!! I was on a AuDHD!Gojo rampage last night as my brain worm hit right as I should have been going to sleep. But such are things....

Like idk why it didn't truly hit me until now, but I can't unseen Gojo as AuDHD. (It was probably because I re-watched "Everything's Gonna be Okay" with some AuDHD representation and then I started thinking of other AuDHD characters and immediately thought of Gojo.) I did play with the idea a few months back, but it hit me with full force yesterday.

Idk like I get a little annoyed with people who think I or others like Gojo just because "he's hot" because like okay fine yes (but also I think I just have gender envy but that's a whole other can of worms). But also, no no no that's not it! My love for Gojo is more than that! He speaks to me as a character. He's misunderstood. He's seen as something he isn't. In my eyes, he's neurodivergent (and queer). And Geto was the only other person who ever saw him for who he really was.

Gojo's death was really hard on me. I remember exactly where I was when I read that chapter. And then the airport. Fuck. EmOtIOns. At first, I tried understanding Nanami's words. I really did. But really, I just didn't if I'm honest. Those words were a shock to me. Like yeah okay he's selfish (but like aren't all humans?). He also helps though! Isn't that obvious? And at the end? He wanted to have an equal to go all out with in a fight. Again, why was that bad? He was also helping! What's the issue? He's a fallible human. Like you said in your analysis, he contains multitudes. What's wrong with that?

So, like many others, I thought maybe I misread Gojo. But no. Now I think the missing piece was that Gojo is AuDHD and Nanami didn't quite get that. He didn't understand Gojo's actions. (And ahh god that lil pout. Gojo was just living his life and people saw him but they never ~saw~ him.)

I think the visual of the sorcerers back-to-back is a great metaphor for the double empathy problem. I never saw it that way, but I see it now and like it! And I think you're so right with the fact that the characters still respect and support each other even if they don't understand each other fully. I think that's a theme woven throughout the story.

Blahhh I feel like there is so much textual support for AuDHD Gojo. Like him being blindsided by Geto's defection because he didn't see Geto's decline (and don't get me started about Autistic!Geto with his strict black-and-white thinking), him just blabbing about sweets when he meets up with Megumi before fighting one-finger Sukuna at the beginning, the fact he thought revealing Yuuji to his classmates at the exchange event would be funny (cause hey, I thought it would too until it happened and I saw oh hey, it wasn't), etc. Plus, his blindfold. His overall personality. Like, it's such a heavy mask. Now I see that.

I feel like people either love Gojo or they hate him. (I immediately gobbled up your analysis and 100% agree. And I think people's reactions to his death are pretty telling.)

So, thank you for the yummy AuDHD!Gojo content. Please feel free to send me more/link me to things. I feel like I have a million more things to say but my brain is jumping all over the place and I've already spent 40 minutes this morning on this when I should have been getting ready for work. Hehe, whoops.

Gojo is AuDHD. I will die on this hill. Let's keep staring and screaming at each other about this. Sending you good vibes and love as well 🤍

[crossedsabers10s]

Do you have any hc about Damon's season 1 powers? I'm especially interested in shapeshifter!damon. The whole concept is quite fun to imagine. Also why do you think he has these extra powers? Personally after the whole lily thing I like to imagine that Damon is an untrained heretic. Also a scenario where hos powers would be revealed to scooby gang and/or the mikaelsons.

okay, okay so. Prepare for a short essay. (Sorry)

Intro!! So, in the Vampire Diaries books, vampires have Powers (capital letter and all) that feature things like weather manipulation, shapeshifting, flying, elemental control, telepathy, I think they can see auras or sense other vampire's Power. The books and the show are only like barely related. A lot was changed to make the show. (The Salvatores' ages, for one--they'd been Renaissance era men who'd killed each other in a duel over, you guessed it, Katherine. A ton of characters had personality changes (show Bonnie is better, imo), and book Caroline was an antagonist, plus Jeremy straight up didn't exist, Elena had a v young sister. So on, so forth, everything ended up super different.)

The show started off a (teeny) bit closer to the source material, but sharply diverged, including getting rid of the Powers thing. Something about it being too supernatural???? in the vampire show??? idk might have to fact check me on that one think I read it somewhere random.

But, as we know, it's heavily implied, and outright stated in some cases in early S1 that Show!Damon has access to some kind of power. Controlling the weather, controlling animals (perhaps shapeshifting, but maybe just a connection), and a long distance kind of hypnosis.

What we know about it:

In episode 1, a crow is seen following Elena around. It shows up multiple times. In the car with Bonnie, at the graveyard, when she goes to the Salvatore House for the first time. The crow heralds Damon's reappearance to his brother. Stefan says, "Crow's a bit much-" which implies this is a Thing that he knows about. Damon replies, "Wait until you see what I can do with fog."

The very first scene Damon is in, the opening with the couple on the way back from some concert (i think) it's foggy. They mention something about it that implies it shouldn't be foggy, or that it wasn't previously. Like, "What's with all the fog?" At the graveyard, Elena sees a crow, then it starts becoming much more foggy.

Bonnie, at some point, touches Elena and says she sees a crow, some fog, and a man.

It's foggy when Vicki is attacked.

So. We've established those two things. Moving on.

There's that one scene where Damon is locked up and long distance compels Caroline to free him--i think after calling the crow into his cell and eating it to gain that strength? maybe--it's heavily implied because he fed on her they have a connection he can use to influence her mind without direct compulsion.

I'm sure there's other examples, but I can only watch so much of S1 at a time.

OKAY!! now that that's been established, time for the fun headcanon stuff.

Firstly, I also love shapeshifting!Damon! Tis good fun and it lets me project gender envy i mean it's a great metaphor about vampires being inhuman!! Yes! That! Nothing else ahahahahaha. Something something, predator's perspective, something something instincts. In the book Damon could turn into a large crow and a wolf. Highkey wish they'd kept the crow thing as more than just the occasional motif. It could have been so much fun!! Crow minions!!! Crow friends!!!! Crows bothering the fuck out of people he wants to annoy!!!!! Damon trades shinies and food for things!! Somehow always has a snack on him. Crow drama??? Just casually mentions weird lil bird rivalries. Crows are Smart! They are super social!!! They hold grudges!! They absolutely have Drama on par with Mystic Falls. It could also be played for angst; Katherine announces her return with with a bunch of bird corpses in the Boarding House. Damon, who is unsympathetic to human deaths could be visibly upset by this!! Also nicely plays into the 'likes animals but pretends he doesn't bc it's a weakness' thing.

Comes home and there is feathers in his hair, nearly blending in. Except, on closer look, they're positioned oddly, like they'd been growing from him instead of just settling there. Then he brushes them off or shakes his head and they fall away. Maybe Stefan notices he's a bit more prone to tilting his head at things to get a better looks. Is a bit more easily distracted/more prone to notice shiny things.

A crow follows Elena around and maybe she makes friends with it. Or a crow comes across Stefan having some angst fest in the forest and bothers him into a better mood.

I like the heretic thing!!! I also just think the Salvatore bloodline is magic charged bc it's a doppelganger line!! They've got Silas germs!! Maybe Damon is a little bit more psychic than he should be. Maybe his compulsions require less effort and his dream-walking is better than vampires twice his age!!! Mild telekinesis would also fit in with early S1 nonsense! moving doors to creep Elena out!

As for his powers being revealed... I mean. Suddenly he's more valuable to the Originals? Not as much as Elena was, but there would prob be more recruitment efforts than in canon. Plus, Kol would be more interested in him as more than a batting target. Klaus and Elijah may press the 'saved ur life thing' more. Hm... I guess it would depend on when in the show? Early seasons and it just makes him more a threat. Stefan maybe assuming he did something to a witch??? Later in the seasons and if he develops those powers it's fun to imagine him having to learn to use/control them + having to deal with increased need for blood to fuel them. If it was a matter of him keeping them secret, I'm sure the Drama will manifest with 'how could you not tell me!!' and so on and so forth. Technically speaking, I imagine it'd be put in the same place as Jeremy's medium powers. Brought up when needed. not entirely sure, may think on it later

[yanderes-galore]

Hello! Hope you're soing ok. Is it possible I could request headcanons of yandere Reaper with a female darling who's more innocent than the average person her age? As in she's less concerned about material stuff and social status like others are. Could their dynamic please be like Death and the Maiden? And could Reaper also call his Darling Cordera which means little lamb, please? Thank you so much for considering!

Ah, I'll see what I can do. I am not familiar with "Death and the Maiden" so I apologize I did not include that. He was one of the first Overwatch characters I wrote for, although it's been awhile so I hope I managed to make an appealing story.

The "innocent darling" type I tried to portray but, I'm not really sure how to do it properly. Also, open ended as this is supposed to tie in with the prompts that I have for him (They're the same darling)

Yandere! Reaper with Innocent! Darling

Short Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Murder, Blood, Sadistic desires, Kidnapping implied, Implied forced relationship, Open ended.

Being a mercenary with your body decaying and regenerating at an extremely fast rate can understandably affect your mental state.

Reaper is a self-proclaimed psychopath.

He's sadistic, conceited, and often plays with his enemies when he has the upper hand.

An innocent darling would, indeed, be like a pure lamb to him.

His lamb.

You'd have no idea what you're getting into when you meet the mercenary the first time.

His abilities allow Reaper to be an angel of death.

He takes out his targets with ease and doesn't care about the consequences.

Getting involved with someone like him was an accident.

It was the wrong place, the wrong time... you were just doing your job.

Then he killed your boss and spared you once he realized you weren't a threat.

When he first meets you, it was like he stared you down as a predator.

The fact he spared you made you on edge for months.

He saw you were innocent.

Like a young lamb, you carried no burden on your shoulders.

You weren't worried about money or social status...

You were simply trying to get by and live your life as happy as you could.

Part of Reaper admired that innocent glow of yours.

He's almost envious.

Reaper left you alone because of that.

You didn't need to concern yourself with this matter.

You may need a new job, though.

Reaper keeps an eye on you after that.

It could've been due to a sense of curiosity... or maybe a sick craving.

Perhaps he wanted a taste of the life you had.

He's always been a soldier, yet here he is watching this civilian from a hiding spot he picked out day after day.

Once a job was done, he'd materialize to somewhere to watch you.

Like a phantom figure, he trails you.

Your everyday life looks so empty of stress and he's drawn to you.

He can't tell if he wants to preserve you... to keep you happy in his arms.

That... or he wants to taint you, to make you suffer like he has out of envy.

You were a soft innocent lamb to him...

Meanwhile he was the wolf, debating on wanting to hunt you for that innocence.

Reaper spends most of his time stalking you.

Talking to you like this would scare you.

He knows he can't make this work with how he is.

Instead, he waits until the time is right.

Up until he can't wait any longer to have you in his arms...

He wants to feel you, to protect that innocence, yet also claim it....

Reaper doesn't care who meets the end of his gun to get you.

He kills without motive anyways.

By the time you properly meet him, blood stains your clothes.

That innocence is quickly broken once you see the cloaked man in front of you.

Blood fills your home along with bodies.

Bodies of your loved ones... bodies of those you hold close to you...

They're snuffed out by a man cloaked in darkness.

The very same man who, once again, only spared you.

His voice sounds as though there's gravel in his throat as he steps in front of you.

"You're coming with me, my cordera...."

You can try your best to back away from him, to try and shield yourself from his gloved hands picking you up.

You aren't going anywhere.

No matter how much you try to flee...

Death will always claim you.

[aroaceconfessions]

I watched JaidenAnimation's video on not being straight, and it got me thinking a lot about myself. I know 100% I am asexual, something that I'm so proud of being. Then I started thinking about being aromantic. I thought I was pan, but started putting serious thought into things. I don't think I've ever had a crush in real life. I've thought I've had crushes on fictional characters, but thinking even more about that, I realize it was other factors, that I was aesthetically attracted, or desired a qpr, or some gender envy maybe (I have no idea what gender I am, maybe agender?)

And all of a sudden I got flashbacks to the only time someone had genuinely confessed to liking me. He was a great guy, someone I considered a friend, he admitted he liked me, and I didn't want to hurt his feelings, and thought I felt something for him too, and I told him I liked him too, but I realize now that it wasn't romantic attraction I was feeling for him. I didn't know what to do after I had messaged back 'oh I like you too, (something along those lines)' I didn't spend my time reading romance books, I was much more interested in mystery books and my own fantasy worlds then boys or girly stuff (Afab but a huge tomboy) So I bluntly asked 'does this mean we're dating now?' And as soon as I got that confirmation I had this overwhelming feeling wash over me, like a massive feeling of uncomfort, like something was wrong, not unlike a panic attack if I could really compare it to anything. And it didn't last even 10 minutes before I'd messaged him again that I don't think a relationship was a good idea at the time (this was when I was middle school mind you) and the feeling went away.

And piecing that all together right now, I realized I might be aromantic. And I got a smaller shock just like that time when I was 'dating someone.' I don't want to say it's fear for being aromantic, cause honestly it seems amazing being aromantic, but at the same time I don't know if I actually want a relationship, if I crave one, and to have to power through that feeling, or if I just want to be close to someone. Sometimes I want more then anything to be held and cuddle with someone, and it's such a strong feeling, that sometimes I don't notice how gross it (namely touch) makes me feel underneath. And then sometime after that overwhelming want, it's massive touch aversion, like the slightest human contact is horrible, and something I'd never want to do. And then after that period, I'm back to neutral, I guess, to touch? After that's, it's like I don't like touch unless I know it's coming or I initiate it, for anyone. That being my mom, my little brother, people I've known a while. And it stays that way until all of a sudden out of no where, that want is back. Then after that, huge touch aversion, then 'normal.' A cycle everytime.

Around the same time, middle school, is when I found out about x readers (unsupervised internet time) and thought that was my chance to engage like some others do, but thinking on it now, I always wanted just the familial, platonic aspect, the closeness that was always portrayed, not the romantic aspect. I don't think I ever really wanted a lover, but just someone to be there for me, someone I trust more then anyone.

Sorry, this was a bit all over the place but yea

[ctheathy]

Any and all Julius the Dressmaker HCs please! Any genre, idc, anything about him!🖤 Please feed my hyperfixation, I'm starving😭🖤

Yandere Julius the Dressmaker Headcanons

Julius Doherty x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Character + Artwork by Sanityshorror

Author’s Note : Been on quite the yandere streak with my asks lately, so obsessive hcs it is!! My sincere apologies due to it being rather short, it’s been a while since I’ve been genuinely close with the Creepypasta fandom, and my memory on the beautiful man is slightly blurred. Hope these are alright for now, sweetheart🌹

Julius the Dressmaker/Reader [Romantic]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Superiority complex • Murder, a lot of murder • Stitches • It’s vague whenever his darling actually dies or not • Arrogance • Possessiveness • Corpses mention • Controlling behaviour • Gaslighting • Sadism • Degrading treatment • Abuse of high class position • Cheating • Assault • Blood mention • Julius is a hypocrite

˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙

Julius is a very conflicted person. On one hand he can and will come off as an incredibly arrogant, selfish and cruel individual when given a reason to, but on the other he is a very starved being for both praise and appreciation, often openly reaching out for it too. He wants eyes on himself and will get overbearing during conversations in order to get the topic swapped to his liking, his delusional mindset having convinced his own importance to be superior over that of anyone else’s. But it tends to bother him the trouble it has always given him during that time. Humans have always been hypocritical.

He himself has always gained stacks on stacks of attention due to his attractive appearance and charming demeanour alone. He’s alluring and mesmerizing in the eyes of those around him, and it has resulted in him getting what he continuously wants so badly; unnecessary validation and praise for simply existing. It not helping in the slightest that he has the direct knowledge on how to get what he wants. But there was something that had slowly started to tick him off as time went on.

Genuine and thoughtful compliments directed torwards other people.

The more attentiveness he gained over the years, the more it felt as if there was little to no thought behind it, much to the point these compliments had felt as if they were nothing but a must. He’s so needy for the observation, so desperate for the entire acknowledgement of other people ... but it has just become so common, it was becoming much more similar to simply telling a white lie. Some eerily directed commentary with no emotion connected to it, the type of wording that shouldn’t be affecting him this much in modern days. And yet, here he was. Being put in an irritable state and a sense incredulity by others achieving a certain type of attention that he just doesn’t get. Feeling any comments being send torwards those around him to be a lot more real rather than the ones he has always gotten.

It’s already hard enough to get this man’s attention on you as it is, much less keep it. But I believe a certain fixation with you could be produced by holding a specific kind of thought process as a person, a mindset whom he just cannot provide for himself. He had never been provided with or even offered much when considering positivity and such. So he tends to be caught strangely off guard when sweethearts such as yourself come around without any seeming hidden motives. Your appearance would be a strange turn for the male, and it had only resulted in the complexity of his emotions worsening.

Though you held a sense of pride and self confidence, you weren’t arrogant like he was. You took flaws and always tried turning them into something positive, letting there be a positive spin on it for both yourself and those surrounding your presence. This being a part of you he almost envies in a way, taking something imperfect and yet, still seeing it as something good? Despicable... The literal root of his obsession would merely be created alongside the start of his jealousy torwards you. You’re far from perfect, yet you were willing to be the perfect example of an endearing creature to look up to when it came to those around you. A role he wanted.

He’d definitely try to suppress these feelings, considering them to be a negative effect to his image and that it’s an unworthy distraction from his job. He would go out of his way to gaslight himself into believing himself to despise you with every cell of his body, even to the point of specifically targeting you for his ridicule and bottled up anger; which only leads to him growing more frustrated with himself for giving you that unworthy attention, but he just cannot seem to leave you be no matter how much he tries. He wants to believe himself to detest you with the entirety of his heart, but he keeps on crawling back in the end. It’s as if your positivity is taking a toll on him, like it’s some sickening spell he cannot free himself from.

He would end up so very embarrassed if he still managed to catch up with his unwanted feelings and his complex desire for you. It’s just so very unprofessional of him-! Much less having fallen for an average person such as yourself. He considers himself an complete embarrassment and is still yet one to deny these for a very long time. In his eyes, he could have had everything. He had a loving relationship, one whom had to be left behind for his own selfish desires. He had a major self image who was currently getting destroyed to bits due to your influence. And most importantly, his already poor self esteem is now going off the charts.

To many, it comes to no surprise that Julius is a perfectionistic individual, holding not only hard standards for himself, but forcing them upon those around him as well, including his darling no doubt. He’d go out of his way to put you in the spotlight and bring attention to the little flaws you may or may not have. Every little detail gets spotted and is easily turned against you, behaving as if you’re his little toy to continuously ‘improve’.

Little mr. Perfect over here also tends to be surprisingly possessive when it comes to you. He continuously assaults and degrades you like you’re some low class vermin, but he makes it very clear it’s only him who can behave this way torwards you. This shall be the only genuine care you’ll ever receive from the man too, something that’s not merely an act, that is. It’s for selfish reasonings and self-benefit only, but he’ll call out and concentrate on the said person who harassed you, making sure they’ll be missing by the next day by luring them in as his next victims. He is already naturally possessive of those he deems his property, but he truly takes it to a whole nother level when it comes to you. Any close connections you may hold with another shall be shut down real quick. His kill count is intensifying and fastening in action. It gets to a point where he doesn’t even try to hide his murders anymore, shamelessly leaving the bodies of those you love on your doorstep with the countless of physical deformities due to the torture they’ve faced in his hands.

If other people started the same treatment he had always given you, he fears for the worst to lose your attention on him. His intentions and final goal with you almost seem vague in a way, as if he’s in constant debate with himself aswell. He’s constantly suffering of behaviour moodswings and pushes it onto anybody unfortunate enough to be close at that moment. His mannerisms and behaviour may sometimes even make him seem loveable in a way. But do not be fooled, dear. All tends to be nothing but a mere facade, a simple mask he wears for a certain while in order to try and make you let your guard down. And he shall continue these unsavoury acts to the point where you're most likely nothing but a broken doll to him, the shell of a person you once were.

But do not despair now, dove, he’ll stitch you to perfection.

˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙ᵕ꒳ᵕ˙˚˙

[englishmagic]

Wanna read about my gender journey?

A youtuber asked "what was the moment you realised you were trans?" and I tried to put it into words in a comment. Instead, it became... Longer than any youtube comment that anyone would read. It feels more appropriate to put it here, so I am going to. But since it is, uh, long, I will put it under a read more.

For me, it was many small moments stacking up, starting around puberty. I was a little girl, but when I outgrew girlhood, growing into womanhood felt incredibly wrong. I started (very unsafely) binding my chest when I was about eleven or ten, but only to look at myself in the mirror with a flat chest, because I didn't want anyone to notice and ask about it. When I was a teenager I referred to my assigned sex as a "y chromosome deficiency". I remember crying after a row with my mother where I asked why I had to be a boy or a girl and not just a kid, and was told that I wasn't a kid anymore. When I floated the possibility of being a boy, the conversation jumped straight to "okay so should we schedule invasive surgery on your genitals??" and obviously that scared me away.

Reading feminist theory I got very preoccupied with gender socialisation, and thought through nearly every choice I made with the question "would I choose differently if I hadn't been raised a girl?" Seeing feminine-looking men made me excited, because if they could look like that and still call themselves men, maybe I could be a man sometimes, too. I became vaguely aware of nonbinary people when I started using tumblr around 2010-ish, but I was always under the impression that it was some sort of medical condition that you were supposed to pity, but which I envied instead, and that made me feel like a bad person, like I was fetishising someone's struggle by wishing it upon myself.

All of these were things I thought, did, and said, while convinced I was totally cis, and just… Weird, I guess. Desperate for attention, maybe. In fact, while I tried to express support for trans people outwardly, for the longest time I had trouble understanding the whole concept - after all, my "biologically female body" was the only reason I was a woman; I felt no ties to that identity beyond physical categorisation. If that didn't make me a woman, then what did? Spoiler alert: Nothing.

(added for tumblr bc less censorship: It was so weird to me that someone would go through all that trouble just to have a vagina and boobs. Because that was the reason I was a woman, nothing made me a woman except vagina and boobs. The rest was just behaviour I'd been molded and manipulated into, just gender roles, really, and those are made up bullshit anyway. What do trans women experience, do they just look at their crotch and go, there should be a vulva there and the fact that there isn't upsets them? In no way did I realise that maybe if I feel like possession of a cunt was the only reason I was saddled with the title "woman", then maybe the title didn't mean much to me at all. I was only a woman because the shape of my body dictated it. And when I finally internalised the fact that it doesn't, I immediately stopped identifying as that gender.)

I'm not a woman. I think I settled on that conclusion probably around 2016, but it has been slow going and honestly a lot of it has been subconscious. I'm mostly out of the closet now, but I'm also still not entirely sure where my identity falls. It feels awkward to be figuring myself out in my thirties, too vague, too little, too late, but "definitely not woman" is something I'm 100% sure on.

And here I put an apology for writing such a long comment. Instead of apologising, I will here make the comment at least twice as long. More signs along the way, for one - by the time I was like, fourteen, 80-90% of my self-insert characters in writing were male. I'd pretend to be a guy on online forums, or just not specify a gender and get really happy when people didn't assume I was female. I put that down to internalised misogyny. I also took on a male sounding nickname with my friends - and if there's any reason I'm glad I didn't transition as a teen it's that I'd probably be stuck as Seth. I would spend ages in the bathroom making myself look more masculine, slicking back my hair and pretending I was a guy, practicing (atrocious) drag king makeup that I washed away before anyone else could see it.

As an adult, I've also realised that I am much more comfortable with sexuality if I am seen as masculine. I have quite a feminine appearance. And I do identify as aromantic asexual, that label makes me feel seen and gives me peace of mind - but sometimes I suspect part of my discomfort with romance and sexuality is that being attractive to people has always been a gendered experience to me. I've got a pretty face, and I like compliments as much as anyone, but the moment someone calls me attractive, sexy, hot, anything like that, I feel like I want to dig a hole and bury myself underground. There are pieces of clothing I've loved, but that I haven't been able to make myself wear after someone made a comment about me looking hot in them. However. I posted a selfie with one of those "this app will put a beard on you in exchange for training material for our AI" filters on it to a facebook page, and when people called that sexy, handsome, and "daddy" - that didn't feel gross. That actually felt empowering and exciting and flattering and I realised maybe that's how being told you're attractive is supposed to make you feel?

As mentioned above, I'm still not entirely sure about the man thing. But it feels better than woman. For now, I'm comfortable with being nonbinary, transmasc, certified non-woman.

I still feel like shit a lot of the time. I look in the mirror and I see a woman and I wish she was allowed to exist, because she looks so nice. I wish I wanted to be her. But the very idea of it makes me feel, well, the way people expressing their attraction to me as a female creature does. Uncomfortable, nauseous, sometimes borderline suicidal. It feels wrong to deny the world access to this person who would be so much better liked, so much more of an asset, than the absolute weirdo hiding behind my face. I struggle with the intersection between internalised fatphobia as I've gained a lot of weight in my late twenties, early thirties, and the despair of that fat settling in places that make me look ever more womanly, with curves and all of that shit which is great on other people, but drags my body further and further away from what I want it to be.

I'm still in the situation where wanting to change my body kind of requires me to be a dude, especially if I want anything medical, which I don't dare to think about too much. And I still think it feels too extreme, somehow, to commit to being a man. I like my femininity. I enjoy looking like Galadriel sometimes, I enjoy giving off strong lesbian energy occasionally, I have "girlsonas" that are important parts of me. I just don't like dressing like a woman around other people, because at the back of my mind I know my appearance will be seen as proof that I am in fact a woman. And I know that I shouldn't care what people think, I shouldn't care what I look like, it's what's inside that counts and as long as I know my truth - but "my truth" is kind of foggy at the moment. So being identified by others as the only thing I'm 100% sure I am not is not helpful.

Sometimes being nonbinary seems to boil down to "say you are nonbinary". And yeah, that's true. But what's the next step? I'm not happy where I am. Saying I'm nonbinary isn't enough for me. I don't know what I need, I think I need help figuring that out and doing whatever I need to do, but I have no idea where to get that help. If anyone read this far and has a suggestion, I am open to those I guess...

Thank you for reading this, if anyone does. I don't expect anyone will. Maybe just writing it will be good somehow, I don't know.

[ordiichai]

Some aimless rambling abt my genderfluid Sebastian hc

So this is an idea that i, surprisingly, haven’t seen explored before and i think that is sad. Therefore, i am taking up that responsibility and writing an entire ass essay about this idea that i have.

A few disclaimers:

1: i have no outline for this and am kind of just writing whatever comes into my head, so please forgive any tangents or just general gay nonsense.

2: i am not caught up on the manga, so this is based mainly off of the anime, the small bit of the manga i have read (vol 1-5), my general knowledge of the series, and small tidbits of the story that I’ve picked up from various sources

3: I am counting all of Black Butler as part of the same story. I know there are people who only use the manga canon when analysing Black Butler, but I prefer to assume that if something is true in, for example, season 1 it will be true in season 3. So if ur manga-only or just one of those ppl who hate everything about the anime, you might wanna leave

Enjoy!

So I’ve basically had this idea ever since i saw this manga panel

Honestly, when i look at this image, all i can think of is my intense gender envy for this guy AND how genderqueer it is. And that is for multiple reasons. One being that, in general, shapeshifter characters are often coded genderfluid due to the simple fact that they can turn into anything, and that would clearly include another gender. One notable example of this being Nimona. A character that, similarly to Sebastian, normally takes a single human form. But they also occasionally take the forms of different people or even animals. I’m not sure if it’s fully canon, but it’s pretty much agreed that Nimona is genderfluid.

Another reason is that fucking text. “I am no one, yet i can become anyone” you mean you can become a woman 🤨? Ayo? In all seriousness though, that is a very genderqueer thing to say. The idea of “being no one” sounds very non-binary in its own right, but pair that with the "becoming anyone" line, there is a very clear parrallel to the idea of being genderfluid or non-binary.

Sebastian is also just super queer-coded in general. Always going on about his "aesthetic" and have y'all seen those fucking high heels? He is shown to be not tradtionally masculine, what with his long and unkempt hair, black nails (i know it's implied that that just happens when demons take a human form, but i like to imagine they all just paint their nails bc it looks cool), and occupation with fashion and his looks. He has an interesting tendancy to flirt with literally everyone he talks to, including multiple men.

Overall, he is a very genderbending character. He is very effeminate, wears the pointest high heels known to man in his demon form, and is generally very queer coded. Although we aren't really given much info on demon lore, especially when it comes to things like gender, but we do know that angels have the ability to shift from a male body to a female one in a matter of seconds. Ash Landers is another character that I beleive to be at least very coded genderfluid. He has to ability to just...become a woman on a whim and also seems to hate the idea of binary gender. He describes man's separation by gender as the genisis of evil, for god's sake. It is fair to assume that demons live by the same rules.

That is all for now, I may post another one of these later on in time, either about the same topic, or about a different one. Thanks for putting up with my nonsense and I hope you enjoyed :D

In conclusion,

[2af-afterdark]

Fate Favors Who it Will, But Will Does Not

Hey hey! I participated in the wonderful Devildom: An Obey Me Zine! The zine has been sent out, so I'm free to share my contribution with you all -- and you know I'm in the adults only add on~ There are still some leftover goodies so snag them while you can (seriously, they are cute af and I think some things may have already sold out)! You can also read my fic on AO3 if you prefer~

Characters: Solomon, MC, Asmodeus Relationship: Solomon/MC, Asmodeus & Solomon Content: Gender-Neutral Main Character, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Mild Restraint (holding wrists), Hate Sex, Blow Jobs, Facial

Solomon was a man of great renown: former king of his people, wisest of all men, the highest and most grand sorcerer of all time, holder of pacts with 72 demons just as grand as he, one of the first humans trusted enough by the future king of the Devildom to begin bridging the gap between the world. What was there about him that others could not want or envy? 

Yet, somehow beyond his comprehension, it had not been enough. Despite his acclaims, he still hadn't managed to get exactly what he'd wanted. Even though there was no one better in all the worlds to tie oneself to than him, the pacts he wanted most still remained out of his grasp. No. Not just out of it. They had avoided his reach entirely because of a singular person.

All because of them.

They weren't anyone of importance; a nobody with no accomplishments to their name. Well, no accomplishments aside from stealing the thing he wanted most. Without any merits to their name, they had managed to secure seven pacts with seven of the strongest demons. Some of those he couldn’t feign envy for, but one in particular boiled his ancient blood.

Why would Lucifer pick a nobody like them over an elite like him . Only a fool could make sense of it, and he was far from foolish.

"You're glaring again," Asmo, pact number 72 of 72 under his name, said with a bemused smirk as he followed Solomon's gaze across the room. "You're going to develop an ulcer or, worse, wrinkles." Oh the absolute terror of Solomon's pretty face being cursed with creases and liver spots.

Solomon didn't respond, too enamored with his own seething hatred and bitterness at the inane nature of this situation. Not only did he have to live with the humiliation of losing such a valuable pact to someone who could only generously be called a novice. That loss just had to stare him in the face.

"If you're going to stare at someone, I'd rather it be me," Asmo sighed with a pout.

Still, Solomon didn't stir. He was too focused on their laughing, smiling face. Or, rather, he was focused on how the pacts visible against their skin framed that smile.

Asmo leaned into the table to get close enough to place his gentle hand against Solomon's cheek, forcibly bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand. "If it bothers you that much, you could always kill them."

Solomon's eyes finally snapped to Asmo, the hardness in them seemingly replaced with frustration. "I don't kill innocent humans."

"I know you don't." He leaned back in his seat, crossed his legs, and examined his immaculately kept nails. "I'd be upset if you killed them, anyway. You wouldn't want to upset me now, would you?"

Honestly? Solomon was indifferent to the notion, but he would never say that to Asmo's face.

"Now, unless you're going to do something about all that pent up… whatever you have going on, I'd appreciate it if you focused on the most important thing here." 

"Oh? What's that?"

Asmodeus batted his long lashes with a playful smirk. "Me."

Of course. Solomon honestly wasn't sure what other answer he expected from the biggest narcissist he knew.

"Asmo!" Solomon and Asmodeus turned their attention to the other side of the room. The source of all of his issues was looking straight at them with an inquisitive expression. "We're deciding on dinner. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Of course I do, Darling." And just like that, as Asmodeus stood up and practically skipped over to them, Solomon knew that he was no longer engaged in whatever their conversation had been.

Again , they took what should have been his.

Asmodeus held a pact with him long before they had even been born, yet they so easily swayed the demon in whatever direction they chose. It took them no effort to take what he had to work so hard for.

Solomon couldn't wait for this day to be over so he could head back to Purgatory Hall and relieve himself of the sight of his fellow human. It couldn't come soon enough for his taste, but it was better than nothing.

Thank goodness a room hadn't been available for them at the time the exchange had begun. He may have lost his mind having to live down the hall from them. Then again, perhaps if a room had been available, they wouldn't have had the opportunity to take everything he wanted from him. Maybe they would have stayed a normal human rather than become a thorn in his side.

As soon as the day was over, Solomon practically bolted away from campus. The day and its disappointments clung to his skin like sludge and he insisted that he had to get rid of it as soon as possible. A warm shower, lots of soap, a stray hand wrapped around the half-hard erection he hadn't realized he'd somehow formed; that's what it would take to finally put his mind at ease. After that, he could focus. He could ignore the injustice of it all when it was just him. 

Or, rather, he could deal with the injustice how he would.

He tried not to think about the person who had frustrated him all day – or for the last several months, if he were to be honest – as he stroked himself, but he couldn’t stop the indignant hatred flooding his mind from conjuring an image of them as his hips jerked forward and he sprayed cum across the tiles of the shower walls.

He refused to think of how disgusted he felt for imagining them of all people as he turned off the water and stepped out on the bathmat. Perhaps he needed another shower already to cleanse him of such stray thoughts? No. That would do little other than give him a light head and dry skin. So, with a sigh and slightly sluggish movements, he toweled himself off before throwing on his underwear and pajama bottoms.

He walked toward his room.

He stopped before turning his door knob.

Solomon could sense that something was wrong as he turned the door knob. It wasn't magical in nature nor was it overtly a threat; it was just wrong . 

"Oh, Solomon," they turned on their heels as soon as he opened his own door, "there you are." Their words were starkly quiet compared to the sudden ringing in his ears. He heard something about them returning a notebook (assumingly the one they held in front of them) someone had borrowed and that Simeon had let them in, but that explanation was lost behind the clenching of his stomach and the twitching of his fingers.

They were here . In the last place they shouldn't have been he still couldn't avoid them.

"Is this a sick joke?" he asked the universe dryly, not even able to conjure a bitter laugh at how sick this entire situation was.

"Hm?" They cocked their head to the side. "What joke?"

And here they were, completely unaware of how privileged they were, and that boiled his blood so powerfully that he finally lost the ability to contain himself.

His hands lashed out, grabbing them around the wrists. In their shock, they dropped the notebook and stumbled over their own feet toward the direction Solomon dragged them, slamming them against the wall as he glared directly into their soul with all the hatred he could muster.

Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate. Hate.

Solomon hated them.

It was like the universe was playing favorites with the wrong human. He'd worked for what he had, sometimes even cursed to it, but they were handed everything on a silver platter. He couldn't help but hate them and their stupid luck.

They stared at him with surprised eyes, wrists pressed against the wall by both of his cold hands. Their chest heaved with heavy breaths as Solomon stared them down, grip tightening the longer they looked back at him in silence. Just below his grasp lay the pact of greed he didn't care about, but looking straight at him, placed on the neck that held their head high, was the one he most desired.

They were mocking him.

His eyes narrowed in on them, anger boiling over as he smiled in condescension. "Do you pity me?" He wasn't sure if he was asking them or whatever force kept toying with him by playing favorites.

The way their lips parted then closed and pressed together captivated him. For once it seemed as if the right words wouldn't come; they didn't have all the answers that would get them whatever little thing their heart desired.

He leaned in close to them, so close that they could feel his breath tickling their skin as he spoke, "I've done more in one lifetime than you can comprehend. I don't want your pity. I don't need it."

Silence. It hung thick in the air like liquid amber, encasing and entrapping their very thoughts, holding whatever words they wanted to say in place for far too long.

"I never-" they eventually stuttered out in a quiet voice, "I never pitied you."

He scoffed at their reply. 

"I mean it!" They finally raised their voice as if he hadn't heard them before. "I don't have a reason to pity you. You're… so skilled."

Solomon almost felt something akin to pride at their words. Of course they shouldn't pity him. He was the greatest sorcerer the world had ever known.

"And," they continued, "you're strong; stronger than me."

Again, he was proud to have his talents acknowledged, but something about them admitting to his superiority only fueled his already white-hot anger. They were the source of his frustrations, the one who got everything he worked so hard for without any effort, yet here they were, recognizing that he had more to offer than them.

He wondered if they could see the hatred simmering just behind his eyes, but that wonder faded as he examined them more closely. Their skin was burning beneath his touch, face downcast as their eyes focused on his lower body and their face twisted in embarrassment at his closeness.

The corners of Solomon's mouth curled upward as he followed their gaze downward. "Where are you looking?" As if he couldn't already tell they were focusing between his legs.

Their expression flashed with panic before quickly averting their eyes in another direction.

If he wasn't full of so much hatred and bile for them, he might almost think they were cute. Almost . If it were anyone but them, he may have invited them to bed.

Actually… why shouldn't he do just that? The burning rage inside of him had gone straight to his groin just like in the shower, so it wasn't as if he wouldn't get anything out of the situation. 

Even if that anything was simply to watch them prostrate themselves before their better.

Solomon let go of their wrists at last and they began to rub at the tender spot he'd held for so long. With their eyes still turned downward, focused on their sore skin, he let every terrible thought run through his head and across his face. 

Perhaps he would be kind and let them do all the work so they could show him how readily they longed to please him. Or maybe he would rather tease and torment them without the promise of satisfaction just so they knew what it was like to be denied for once. Still, he was also fond of the idea of watching them writhe beneath him as they begged for his mercy, or lack thereof.

No. He settled on a different idea. This one, he thought, would be much more rewarding.

He grabbed their chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced their head in his direction, eyes filled with shock as they looked at the barely contained sadistic glee on his face.

"You never answered me," he hissed like a whispering snake. "Where were you looking?"

This time, embarrassment and shame crossed their face as they tried to turn their head away. Against the grip of his fingers, it failed. They were forced to continue looking right at him, and the humiliation he could see dancing in their eyes made him twitch in his pants.

Clearly, this was the right decision.

"Sorry, I didn't catch that," he mocked their silence. "Say it one more time for me."

Again, they didn't answer him, but that suited him just fine.

"Maybe you can't tell me because you don't know what you're looking at." He dropped his voice down low, barely even a murmur. "Do you need a closer look?"

As he spoke, he reached his free hand to his pants, skillfully pulling the fabric down just enough to show them the outline of his bulge pressing against his underwear. Their reaction of stunned silence was delicious.

"Maybe now you can answer me. Or, maybe, you need to get even closer?"

They didn't fight against him. If anything, it felt like they were patiently waiting for his next move; like they had finally realized that he should be the one between the two of them that held all the power.

Solomon smirked, feeling giddy at how quickly they had become docile. "Well?" He wanted to hear them. It meant more if they said what someone as low as them wanted from someone as grand as him.

Under their breath, he could hear faint mumbling but it was nothing distinct.

"Again," he ordered with a victorious smirk. "Speak up this time."

He could see the lump they swallowed in their throat before speaking again. "May I please get a closer look?" they finally asked, and he knew he'd won.

He hooked the edge of his thumb into the band of his underwear and rolled them down, freeing his cock from confinement before their eyes, which blew wide in astonishment. He couldn't help but revel in it. He couldn't help but wrap his hand around his girth and start stroking himself to their dumbfounded expression.

"Go ahead. Get as close as you'd like," he taunted as he released their chin from his hold.

For a split moment, as they stood there in hesitation, he wondered if he had been mistaken. Had he let too much on his contempt slip and misjudged what his fellow human was willing to tolerate? Would they recoil from him in disgust rather than bow their head? Would they try to be better than him yet again ?

But all those concerns vanished as he watched them sink to their knees. 

It was a slow, cautious movement as they kept their eyes locked on his, seeming to look for a sign that they were doing the right thing. He couldn't help but think of how pathetic they looked; how fitting it was to see them kneel before him. 

Now their face sat just before his erection, still staring up at him as their mouth twisted and pursed in a mixture of desire and embarrassment. It was almost charming. Almost . 

He gently rubbed his pink head against their lips, smearing a trail of pre in his wake. Their warm breath tickled his skin as their mouth opened around his tip.

He laid a hand against the back of their head, holding them in place as he began to slowly roll his hips to ease them into what he wanted and test the waters of how far they were willing to go. When the back of their throat loosened up to accept him deeper he couldn't help but laugh to himself. 

They were really doing it! The very thorn in his side who had taken what he wanted most from him was really on their knees, slobbering all over his cock as he started speeding up. The hand on their head never moved, but neither did they. They sat there obediently, staring up at him as he shoved his twitching, dripping shaft as deeply down their throat as he could. The sound of their choking and gagging only made him harder; more eager to fuck their mouth and watch just how low this pathetic person could fall.

"I think we found your best angle." Below him. So far below him that they had to crane their neck to look up at him. That was where they belonged.

But, despite the rage still boiling inside of him, Solomon couldn't help but notice the warmth of their mouth wrapped around him. Their tongue ran along the underside of his shaft, sloppily lapping at the veins of his cock as he sank himself in deep over and over again. Rather than just holding them in place to enjoy their lowly display, he couldn't help but start to shove them down his length to revel in their degradation.

They had taken something important from him, but he was determined to get something in exchange. His face was practically glowing red in giddy excitement as blood flowed to the surface of his skin. The raging hatred inside of him twisted and curled in his abdomen, lurching forward with each thrust of his hips and every gag around his length. Drool slipped out of their mouth each time he pulled back, his shaft glistening with their saliva in the light of the room. Their eyes were starting to glaze over, shutting as they focused on the way he turned their mouth into his personal property; into a stress reliever and a punching bag for his frustrations.

Their absolute submission finally broke him. He gripped onto their head to pull them away, forcing them off of his cock with a pop. He wrapped his free hand around his length and quickly jerked himself from base to tip. Still, they only sat there looking dazed as their eyes opened to only slits.

Solomon felt the burning feeling inside of him rush through his body, shooting white hot ropes of cum onto his fellow human's face, neck, and chest. He took extra care to make sure a generous amount landed just over the pace mark at the base of their neck. He was sure Lucifer's pride would be greatly wounded if he ever found out just what he had done. It made him want to take a picture for posterity.

He had a better plan, though.

"Oh my," he feigned concern as he dropped his hand, fixed himself back into his pants, and went from holding them to helping them back to their feet. "It seems I got carried away. We should get you cleaned up."

They only shook their head, seeming to be unable to look him in the eyes after everything. Perfect .

"Well, you can't go anywhere like this." He snaked a hand over their hip, where he knew Asmodeus' pact must have laid, and trilled his fingers along their skin. "Unless you want everyone to see what we did." He almost hoped they would choose that option. He would love for everyone to see how they had lowered themselves for him.

They were silent for a moment before speaking. "Thank you."

And Solomon was ecstatic.

This person who destiny had placed so much higher than him was already crumbling so easily to his whims. Maybe someday they could even be molded into someone less contemptible than who they currently were. 

Until then, though, he couldn't wait to see just how much more he could degrade them and prove to the universe that he was the one who should be favored.

[zerodaryls]

For the ask game! 16, 37 and 43

16. have you ever wanted to tell someone something but you didn’t?

yeah usually like cussing out my toxic family members but then i didn't because i realized it was healthier and more effective to just cut them off entirely <3 i could have verbally destroyed my stepdad with a single sentence but i am actually better than he is so instead i just don't talk to him at all lmao

37. favourite actor/actress

idk if i have one, because usually my favorite actors are just whoever play the blorbos of whatever series i'm currently fixated on, so it varies from time to time. and even then i wouldn't say they're favorites because i just like their characters, not necessarily them as a person (side-eyes d*rk and dw*ght) lmao.

hmm, in honor of the origin of my url i'm gonna say Bill Pullman.

he's just so iconic and i'm always happy to see him on screen and he gives me a whole heckin' lot of gender envy lol i have literally taken photos of him to a salon and been like GIMME THE HAIR (he has had the same goddamn hair style his entire career, i dare you to find a photo of him where his hair isn't this same basic style lol like it varies in length but it's always the same cut and i LOVE it)

he's in like. so many of my favorite movies. Zero Effect (blog url inspo), While You Were Sleeping (fave romcom), Brain Dead (fave psychological/existential horror movie), Independence Day (...one of my fave sci-fi/alien movies), Spaceballs (...I wouldn't actually call this a favorite movie of mine tbh but like it's so fucking iconic I can't not mention it), AND there's this super cringe scene in Mr. Wrong (terrifying movie, it's billed as a comedy but it's legit a horror film to me lmao, do not recommend) where he sings Hold The Line by Toto (my favorite band) really badly and it's just. So iconic. almost ruined the song for me. almost. (no one can ruin Toto for me. 'tis not possible.)

43. favourite song ever

oh come on you can't do that to me, i can't pick a fave song ever, that's not a thing, i don't know how to do that :')

but as i mentioned Toto... it's gonna be one of theirs, lol. i can't even choose one goddammit i'll do a top three (stRUGGLING EVEN TO DO THAT... THE 'TISM CANNOT CHOOSE)

gonna put Rosanna first because it's the first song I remember rocking out to when i was like 3 years old in my car seat and telling my dad to turn up the car radio

next up Can't Stand It Any Longer because EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS PERFECTION, from Joe Williams' vocals to the melody to the beat to the ALL THE MUSIC TERMS I'M NOT EDUCATED ENOUGH TO COMMENT ON IN DETAIL hskjdfhkjsdhfdjksf

aaand as much as it pains me to only choose one more i'll go with one from the Isolation album so you can hear another vocalist (the amount of vocalists this band has had... and they're all so talented in their own ways and GAWWWWWWD I LOVE THIS FUCKIN BAND SO MUCH I'M GONNA SCREAM),, anyway here's Endless:

i could literally talk about Toto all day so i'm gonna have to cut myself off here before this becomes an infodump lmao

............actually i'm gonna put one last song because it came up in the recommended sidebar and Joe is fucking adorable in this video and gives me a lot of gender envy and YES THAT'S PAULA ABDUL DANCING,, WHY WASN'T THIS ONE OF THEIR BIGGEST HITS I DON'T UNDERSTAND

....a..and... um... listen i hate listing 4 things because that doesn't feel rounded out so here's one more to make it a nice rounded 5,, featuring Steve Lukather as a BABY (okay he's like 21 but he looks like a baby) and because I can't list a bunch of Toto songs and not feature any from their 70s era:

i need those rainbow suspenders.

...okay sorry sorry i was entirely possessed by my autism for a minute there 😅 thus concludes the post. thanks for the asks and for opening up my big chaotic box of obsession lol.

[lake-archive]

Track 7 - A Shameful Body

Content Warning!

Gender Dysphoria

If this makes you uncomfortable, I advise you to skip this one.

AO3 Link

Fandom: Hypnosis Mic

Character: Ann Wolff (OC)

Synposis: At work Ann gets to talk to other women who seem to be fascinated with the newbie. They all comment on her, specifically her body. That body… Something she hates.

Track 6 - Track List - Track 8

Another important thing to do at work was not just to work hard but to also build up connections, in case you will need someone in near future. It is also important to keep a good reputation. Being known as the ‘obnoxious bitch’ does no one any favors. It was an awful reputation to have… So Ann made sure to hold conversations whenever she could, when the chance presented itself. After all, it should not have been any different when talking to her friends. Just be a little more polite. After all, they were not people she knew for months nor hung out with for a while. They were people at work, people she converses with on a professional basis… Usually. However, there were those days sometimes… The days she hated the most. Those disgusting days where she just wanted to sink into the ground, right at this moment…

“Ann–San, how do you make this messy hair work?” One of the women asked her, eyeing her very carefully, from head to toe. The young woman had a gaze ever so curious yet eager, just wanting to know the answer to this mystery. It was not the worst… Or so Ann liked to think. But it could get only downhill from here…

“Yeah! And your chest… It’s large!” The second woman commented, making sure to point at the topic of interest, making even Ann’s gaze wander down for a moment. It made her remain silent and the blush hidden behind her mask, luckily, as well as the frown starting to form slowly upon that comment. It was just… She didn’t know. It wasn’t something said with ill intent but not something she felt like hearing. Curse that chest… Curse it all.

“Oh yes! It’s pretty large!” Another one laughed, though playfully. “How nice, the guys must like it a lot. Say Ann, do you happen to have a boyfriend?”

Not this again… But she nodded. “Yeah, I do.” 

“Aww, lucky. Then again, if I had your body maybe I would be as lucky~” Ugh, please, shut up… He likes them a bit too much after all and Ann didn’t want to think about that for even a second… This is a rare instance where her face was hidden so at least she could make the fitting grimace upon hearing such words… And the mention of her boyfriend… Wait, why is it so unsettling to begin with? This is a natural assumption, right? This… It's normal, isn’t it?

“Haha, c’mon now. Not everyone is so lucky like Ann. I mean, she makes that mess of a hair work too. It’s a miracle.”

“Yeah, but most guys I know only look at that you see. I think he could care less about anything else.”

“What guys are you hanging out with?”

Ann was silent during all of this, she only listened. And yet she moved her arms up, crossing them beneath her chest which felt tighter than usual. It was painful, suffocating. Yet again a comment on these sacks… These dreaded sacks. Why does she have them? Why was she cursed with such a large sight? No matter what she wore, she could not hide it. They aren’t the largest in the world but they do stick out. Even now… And since they are the topic in this room the two were more obvious than ever… Again.

How can anyone envy her for this is beyond Ann sometimes. Not to mention being reduced to nothing but those two… It’s painful. It was always those things. How she was envied for this. How guys must like them… How her boyfriend must like them… Was this how this worked? Was she supposed to be happy hearing that? 

If she could have she would have run, right then and there. But she had no excuse this time, not during lunch break. She had to endure those comments. Hah, it is just a literal pain. If it was no big deal to chop off these literal sand sacks, she would do it in a heartbeat. Even if she would scream in pain, it was a hella lot better than whatever this conversation was. In fact, if she could become one with the mere ground, she would be swallowed by the surface of earth and her chest alongside it. No, her body. If the earth could just swallow that up. But she had to take it, make this not known. It would be inappropriate if she didn’t. Feel glad about this… But why didn’t she? Why was her brain just not accepting the praise and wanted her to run instead? She literally had to force herself to sit down and stay put after all… 

Even if they didn’t see she forced herself to smile, just for this moment… A light smile. A smile to show that she appreciated those words. Even if it was an act, a lie in some way. And yet, the longer it went on…

“Say Ann, what is your secret? You got these somehow.”

“I want to know too! A young woman with a boyfriend has to know!”

“Hey, would you mind a little more intimate question Ann–San? Just for—”

Ah no! She can’t do it! She absolutely cannot do this! So she stood up in one swoop, looking at the group before saying: “Excuse me. I have a lot of work to do. So I should head back already.”

And not even waiting for a reply she stormed off, almost running. She walked past several other employees, each giving her a confused stare. Yet Ann did not pay any attention to it. She wanted to be alone, just stay somewhere in solitude. So when she finally passed an empty corner and turned in there she fell onto her knees, mask off as she held her mouth with both of her hands.

The urge was there, all too much. Hearing those comments, echoing in her ears… She had the urge built up, being so close… But she didn’t. Instead she only stared onto the ground, eyes wide as she tried to gather her thoughts… 

How can anyone look at her body and say such things? It is a pain, it is just… Terrible. She hated it, every second she had to walk in that damn thing. She was always looked at - Her figure and especially her chest, the one feature sticking out to so many, one of the first comments she received. It’s… Just… 

It’s so ugly! It’s disgusting! That skin, that hair, that face – She asked for nothing of it! She didn’t want it! The chest is too big, the face too soft, the hair too long! It’s a nightmare! But if she switched it up then what? She would get weird looks! Even though she got different kinds of looks… 

She wanted to sulk, the tears almost coming up. But… No, she didn’t, not here. A deep breath and calm down. This will be over. ‘Get yourself together, you have to work! You have obligations to follow!’ That works.The reminder how she is supposed to be! It always works! 

No, it worked… But it didn’t work today. And the day after… And the many other days to come…

Track 6 - Track List - Track 8