#i was trying to thread the line between kind of like a staged hot girl pinup photo and like

[clottedscream]

Yearly redraw number 9!!!!!

[Image ID: A digital painting of a girl resting on a ledge. She strikes a casual pose, popping a bubblegum bubble and scratching the back of her head. She's dressed in a 2010s-skater-grunge sort of style with a pair of high waisted jorts, denim vans, mismatched slouchy socks, a black tank top, and a ratty, splatter-painted overshirt that says "PUKE" in bold block letters. In the foreground beside her, a skateboard with the same splatter-paint design, and mismatched wheels matching her socks, is propped against the wall. It's covered in stickers, including some cats, a lesbian flag, and a bumper sticker that says "defund the M****rfuckers" with asterisks. The background is a placid suburban scene in watercolor style, with trees casting dappled shadows over the foreground. The sun is low in the sky, as though it were both early morning and late afternoon at the same time. Her large yellow headphones and pink gum bubble create a visual link between her and the wheels of her skateboard, as though the skateboard were a part of her. END ID]

[prouvaireafterdark]

Casual Affair

AKA the “Anti-Forlex Smut”

Technically not a cheating fic, but it kind of has that vibe for a while so if that’s a dealbreaker for you then you might want to skip this one. If you’re looking for unrepentant filth, though, I’ve, uh, got you covered.

Also on AO3!

***

Open Mic Night at the Wild Pony tends to draw a crowd of all sorts: rowdy undergrads from the local community college, older folks trying to recapture their youth with some spirited karaoke, and even soulful academic types like Forrest looking to share their angsty emo poetry. Tonight, as Alex soon discovers, it’s also drawn in Michael Guerin.

Alex doesn’t need to look to know Michael’s staring at him. He can feel his eyes on him like a caress, heavy on the side of his neck before it slides hot down the length of his chest to settle low above his belt buckle. If it wasn’t for the blue-haired historian sitting next to him he’d already have done something about it.

He takes a deep swallow of the beer he’s been nursing for the last ten minutes and tries to ignore him. Maybe if he pretends the restless energy thrumming through his whole body isn’t there, it’ll go away. 

Luckily, he’s got a decent enough distraction; A pair of tone deaf townies are currently massacring “Under Pressure” on stage, a spectacle awful enough to hold his attention like a six car pile up. Alex takes another drink and tries not to laugh behind the rim of his bottle. 

The performance—if one can even call it that—is over in minutes and as the next musician takes the stage, Alex’s gaze finally wanders over toward the bar. Through the crowd of people drinking and laughing with their friends and partners, he catches sight of Michael immediately.

He’s sitting at the bar, but he’s facing out toward the crowd and Alex can’t help but notice how good he looks. With the way his elbows are tucked behind him and resting on the bar top, his chest hair is on proud display through his indecently buttoned flannel and the worn denim of his jeans is pulled tight over his spread thighs. He’s even got his fingers wrapped suggestively around the neck of the beer bottle in his hand—non-alcoholic, Alex registers with no small amount of pride as he catches sight of the label. However messy and complicated things are between them now, he’s glad to see that Michael is making some better choices these days.

Michael notices him staring, because of course he does. He cocks his head and smirks, not subtle at all about what he wants. That look cuts right through him, sending heat down Alex’s spine.

Alex takes a deep breath and turns to face the stage, desperately hoping whatever top 40 hit the new girl on stage is singing will calm his growing erection. Its mindless beat helps him relax, but not enough that Forrest doesn’t notice something’s up.

“You okay?” he asks him, moving his hand off the table to rest his arm along the back of Alex’s chair. Alex tries not to flinch when his fingers comb through the hair that curls along the base of his neck, long enough now that it’s not quite regulation anymore.

“Yeah,” Alex smiles encouragingly, hoping Forrest doesn’t see through him. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward until Forrest’s fingers slip away from his collar. “You want something to drink?”

“Uh,” Forrest starts, looking at his half-empty beer before shrugging. “Yeah, I’ll have another.”

“Great,” Alex says, already standing. “Be right back.”

He makes his way across the bar, trying his best to ignore the way Michael smirks and spreads his thighs a little wider where he sits perched on the edge of his barstool.  

“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that,” Alex chastises him once he’s close enough. He slides into the space at the bar beside him, facing forward with his elbows on the bar top. He catches Michael’s easy smile out of the corner of his eye, and he’s relieved he isn’t hit with the full force of it.

“I’ve been looking at you like this for over ten years, Alex,” Michael replies. “I’m not gonna stop now.”

Alex tries to ignore the way that makes his heart feel somehow light and heavy at the same time where it beats frantically behind his ribs.

“Why are you even here?” Alex asks, chancing a glance at Michael’s face. 

Like the demon that he is, Michael chooses that moment to bring his non-alcoholic beer to his lips and take a long sip. Alex watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and tries desperately not to think about how fucking tight his throat had felt the last time he’d gotten Michael on his knees. 

He doesn’t quite manage it and either it’s written all over his face or Isobel’s taught Michael some new tricks because he can see smug satisfaction in the way his eyes sparkle in the neon glow coming from behind the bar. 

Alex shifts his stance, dutifully ignoring the tightness in his jeans, and tries again. “You hate Open Mic Night.”

“You don’t,” Michael shrugs, like that explains anything. 

Alex kind of hates that it does.

“I’m not performing tonight,” Alex tells him. 

“No, you’re not,” Michael agrees, and then adds a beat later, “but your boyfriend is.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alex bristles. Sure, he and Forrest have been hooking up now and then, but he isn’t—he’s not—

“Does he know that?” Michael asks skeptically, interrupting his thoughts. 

Alex rolls his eyes, uninterested in explaining the intricacies of his not-relationship with Forrest. He doesn’t really see how it matters now, after everything they’ve gotten up to in the last few weeks.

Michael just licks his lips and gives him that infuriatingly sexy grin before he leans in and says, “Well, if he’s not your boyfriend, then why don’t you meet me in the bathroom in five?”

Heat once again rushes through Alex at Michael’s proposition, pooling low in his gut. He turns to look at him in disbelief, but Michael’s smile just grows more smug.

“See you soon,” he whispers, and stands up from his seat, his drink left abandoned on the bar.

Alex resolutely does not stare at Michael’s ass as he saunters off toward the bathroom. It’s a good thing too—the bartender steps in front of him not two seconds later.

“What can I get you?” he asks, drying off a clean pint glass with a checkered dishtowel.

Alex clears his throat before he places his order and fishes a twenty out of his wallet. 

He lays it on the bar with every intention that this time he will stand his ground, get his drinks, and rejoin Forrest at their table, but the next thing Alex knows, he’s pushing his way through the crowd and into the small, dimly-lit bathroom. 

He finds Michael leaning against the sink, arms folded across his chest. He smirks when he sees Alex enter, but Alex doesn’t give him long to gloat before he’s crossed the distance between them and has the front of Michael’s soft flannel bunched up in his fists.

Michael’s eyes flash to Alex’s mouth, his tongue peeking out to wet his own lips in anticipation, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss him. He won’t—not while Alex is obviously out with someone else. It’s an absurd line to draw at a moment like this, but Michael told him once that if Alex wants him, he can come and get him, so it’s Alex’s move now. 

Alex thinks it’s more complicated than that, that they still have a lot to talk about before they try to do this thing for real, but what he thinks more is that he wants to remind himself what Michael’s mouth tastes like.

He surges forward to kiss him, slotting their lips together easily. Michael pulls him closer the moment Alex lets him know he can, blunt nails biting softly into his skin as he slides his fingers under the edges of Alex’s shirt. Alex deepens the kiss almost immediately, Michael’s teasing leaving him desperate and wanting. Michael opens for him so sweetly when he licks along the seam of his lips, just as eager for more as Alex slides his tongue into his mouth.

They kiss like that for what feels like ages but can’t be longer than a minute, Alex losing himself for the moment to the scent of petrichor in the air around him and the taste of it on his tongue. He isn’t sure who pulls away first, but the next thing he knows both of their chests are heaving as they gasp into the narrow space between their mouths. 

He opens his eyes to see Michael looking back at him, his pupils blown wide, lips red and wet. He’s so fucking beautiful Alex’s heart aches in ways he can’t describe.

“Mm,” Michael hums low in his throat, nudging his nose against Alex’s cheek. “What would Forrest say if he knew what you were up to?”

“Fuck you,” Alex grumbles, more on principle than anything else.

“Not tonight, baby,” Michael drawls. “It’s your turn.”

With that, Michael spins them around so it’s Alex with his back against the sink and Alex is fairly certain that it’s only by the grace of Michael’s telekinesis that he doesn’t trip over his own feet. He groans when Michael presses in close, as his thigh nudges its way between Alex’s legs for him to grind his hard cock against.

Michael watches him with singleminded focus, his hands on Alex’s hips encouraging him to keep moving against him, until Alex threads his fingers into Michael’s riotous curls and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s desperate and hungry, filled with every ounce of longing he’s felt for Michael just about every fucking day for the last eleven years. 

Michael meets him in the middle, his hands on Alex’s hips tightening their grip hard enough to bruise, and in that moment Alex doesn’t even care if Michael leaves a mark so long as he doesn’t stop touching him. Michael rocks against him as they kiss, grinding their hips together through the rough denim of their jeans until the tease is too much to bear. 

“Fuck, I want you,” Alex gasps when they part, wishing he was steadier on his feet so he could wrap a leg around Michael’s body and pull him in closer. 

“Good thing I have lube then,” Michael says, dipping down to mouth along the sensitive skin of Alex’s neck, careful not to leave a mark. He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out two single-use packets of lube.

Alex’s cock throbs as he stands there, consumed by the thought of Michael working him open in a goddamn public bathroom where anyone—including Forrest, fuck, he’s a terrible person—could hear them. 

Alex is turning around in Michael’s arms and grinding his ass back against the bulge in his jeans before the part of his brain still capable of higher reasoning registers that there’s something missing from Michael’s hand.

“Wait—condom?” Alex asks, eyebrow raised at Michael’s reflection in the mirror in front of him—not that Michael can see it where he’s reattached himself to Alex’s neck, his hands dipping low on his belly now that he’s left the lube on the edge of the sink.

Michael shakes his head with a low hum. “All out. We used my last one yesterday.”

“Already? Fuck,” Alex whines, unable to hide his disappointment. Michael just keeps kissing his neck, seemingly unperturbed by this revelation. “We really need to stop doing this.”

That gets a reaction from him. 

Michael’s grip on Alex’s hips tightens instinctually, but his voice is carefully light as he retorts, “You don’t mean that.” 

God help him, he doesn’t.

“Well then you need to learn to stop at fucking CVS before you make a promise you can’t keep,” Alex argues.

“Who says I can’t keep my promise?” Michael purrs in his ear.

Alex’s breath catches in his throat as he realizes what Michael is suggesting and Michael’s grin widens as he watches Alex start to flush in the mirror.

“You sure seemed to enjoy yourself the last time I fucked you raw,” he continues, voice low and rough as gravel. “You remember?”

Alex huffs an incredulous laugh. Of course he fucking remembers—He’d been twenty two, fresh off his first tour, and just impatient enough to say fuck it after Michael told him he was out of condoms when he showed up at his Airstream unannounced. He came three times that night; twice on Michael’s cock and once more on his tongue when Michael decided he wanted to clean up the mess he’d made himself. 

Alex wouldn’t necessarily call it his finest moment of judgment, but it had been terribly, unspeakably hot.

“So, what do you say, Alex?” Michael asks him when he doesn’t respond right away, grinding his hips suggestively forward. “You gonna let me fuck you?”

It’s a terrible idea. Alex knows this. Michael knows this. It’ll be messy for one thing—What’s Alex supposed to do when they’re done, go back to sit with Forrest while Michael’s come leaks into his underwear?—not to mention unsafe, even with how regularly he gets tested and that Michael’s alien biology makes it extremely unlikely that he could catch or transmit anything.

But even in the face of all the reasons Alex should say no, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking desperate for it.

In the end, he lets out a shuddering breath and nods, “Yeah, fuck, do it.”

“That’s my boy,” Michael whispers, and Alex tries not to whimper as Michael dips down once more to press a tender kiss to the edge of his jaw. 

Without another word, Michael’s hands slide that little bit further down Alex’s front to find his belt. He makes quick work of the buckle and drags the fabric down his hips to the middle of his thigh. 

Michael’s hands are surprisingly gentle as they encourage Alex to turn around to face him, and once he does, Alex rests his lower back against the sink, hands braced on either side of it. Michael presses a soft kiss to his mouth before he drops to his knees, and when he looks up at him through that thick mop of curls, Alex wishes he didn’t look so goddamn pretty down there. 

His eyes stay on Michael’s flushed mouth as he leans in toward his bare cock. He watches Michael roll his tongue over the head, already sticky with precome, watches his eyes flutter closed as he groans at the taste. There’s a rapturous look on his face as he softly begins to suck him, the way there always is when Michael goes down on him, but, as good as it feels, they don’t exactly have the time to indulge Michael’s oral fixation right now.

Alex releases his hold on the sink to thread his fingers through Michael’s curls, gripping just tight enough to tug gently on the loose strands.  

“We have to hurry,” Alex reminds him. “Forrest’s set starts soon.”

Michael rolls his eyes. He looks like he’s about to complain, but then he’s opening his mouth wider to take him deeper and Alex sort of loses the plot after that. 

Lost in the wet, sucking heat of Michael’s mouth, Alex distantly hears the crinkling of a wrapper as Michael tears open the packet of lube and spills some onto his fingers. He doesn’t waste time warming it before he nudges Alex’s legs as far apart as he can and slips his hand between his cheeks.

Alex jumps at the chill as slick fingers find his hole and the corners of Michael’s mouth curl upward around his cock. Alex tightens his grip on his hair just a little in retaliation.

Michael rubs his finger over Alex’s hole, massaging it gently before he tries to breach it with his finger. He slips one inside him as he works his throat around his cock, and it’s not long before Alex’s rim is stretched tight over three of Michael’s fingers. 

“Fuck,” Alex keens as Michael crooks his fingers just enough to brush his prostate, his cock throbbing where it sits on Michael’s tongue. 

Michael hums and sucks him harder, sending Alex’s eyes rolling back into his skull.

“Michael, stop,” Alex whines, fingers tightening in his curls again. As much as he would love to chase his orgasm in the heat of Michael’s mouth, he’d rather do it on his cock. “M’ready, come on.”

Michael pulls off of Alex with a pop and gently removes his fingers from his ass before he gets up off his knees.

“Turn around,” he says, voice low as he fumbles for the other packet of lube on the sink without taking his eyes off Alex’s face. The intensity of Michael’s attention makes Alex’s heart race with anticipation and he’s helpless against the impulse to surge forward and kiss him again, quick and dirty—just long enough for him to get a taste of his own precome on Michael’s tongue before he’s turning around on unsteady legs and bracing himself against the edge of the sink.

Michael doesn’t make him wait for it. In seconds, he feels the insistent press of Michael’s cock against his hole, slick with lube and precome. Alex bears down on it, gasping as the thick head of it finally works its way passed his rim. 

“That’s it, baby, let me in,” Michael murmurs against his ear as he pushes in deeper, his palm charting a soothing path along his flank as Alex tries to relax into the stretch. 

Michael’s cock feels so hot inside him without a barrier of latex dulling the sensation, and Alex can’t help but let out the whimper building in his throat as he presses back against it, encouraging Michael to sink in deeper.

“Fuck, ‘Lex,” Michael moans into his neck as he bottoms out, his hips flush against Alex’s ass. “You always feel so fucking good.”

Michael lets Alex adjust for a moment, dotting his skin with soft, wet kisses until he feels him start to shift his hips restlessly. Taking the cue from Alex, he pulls out halfway and snaps his hips forward in one quick movement. 

Alex gasps again, pleasure lighting up his spine, and arches his back for more. Michael is all too eager to give it to him, increasing his thrusts in power and speed until Alex is a panting mess, bent over and mewling quietly as his hips bump against the edges of the sink.

Alex doesn’t even realize his eyes have slipped closed until he hears Michael whisper, “God, look at you.”

Alex opens his eyes and catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. He can see every ounce of pleasure he’s feeling reflected back at himself, his brow drawn tight and beaded with sweat, his eyes nearly black with how blown his pupils are. A sudden, sharp moan bursts from his parted lips as the thick head of Michael’s bare cock brushes over his prostate and his eyes jump to Michael’s face in time to watch his mouth spread into a smug grin.

“Right there, huh?” Michael teases, angling his hips to hit that spot again a little more intentionally. Alex groans, his white-knuckle grip on the sink tightening even more. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it? You want more?”

Alex nods his head, not trusting his voice as he pushes back to meet him thrust for thrust. He’s so close already, and when Michael starts moving faster, his hips slapping against the swell of his ass, Alex has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out. 

“Your boyfriend fuck you this good, ‘Lex?” Michael asks him suddenly, something harsh and maybe a little bitter creeping into his tone. When Alex doesn’t dignify that with a response, he continues, “I bet he doesn’t. You wanna know how I know?”

“Michael,” Alex warns, not wanting to hash this out now, but Michael doesn’t listen, only leans in close until Alex can feel his breath puff against his cheek.

“‘Cause that All American Reject is out there on stage right now,” Michael pants into his ear, “and you’re in here, fucking yourself on my cock like you’re dying for it.”

Alex feels a heady mix of shame and arousal as the garbled sound of Forrest’s spoken word registers distantly in his ears, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Michael is reaching between his legs and wrapping his hand around his cock. He slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive head, through the precome dripping steadily from his slit. It’s a dizzying counterpoint to Michael’s frantic thrusts and Alex finds himself on the edge in a matter of seconds. 

“Oh god,” he moans, the back of his head connecting with Michael’s shoulder as he throws his head backward. He can feel it building inside him, his gut coiling tight with pleasure. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Me too,” Michael gasps, the rhythm of his hips growing less coordinated as he desperately chases his own release. “Where do you want it?”

“In me, fuck, Michael, don’t stop,” he replies, too strung out to give a fuck about the consequences. 

“Fuck, ‘Lex, I—“ Michael cuts off suddenly as he comes, and it’s the feeling of Michael spilling hot inside him, groaning low in his ear, that sets Alex off, whimpering as he makes a mess of the cracked tile beneath their feet. 

As he’s coming down, Alex slumps forward and tries to catch his breath, his forearms braced on the sink in front of him the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle on the floor. Michael stays a warm weight against his back, as if reluctant to put even an inch of space between them, and Alex can’t say he minds one bit.

Just as Alex is admiring Michael’s sated reflection in the mirror, applause suddenly breaks out from beyond the bathroom door, signaling the end of Forrest’s performance. The two of them flinch back into reality, the spell around them bursting like a bubble. 

Alex feels the brush of Michael’s lips against his temple before he stands up straight and slowly begins to pull out. With the high of his orgasm now dissipated, the sensation of Michael’s come leaking out of him when he does is deeply unpleasant and Alex is quick to clean himself up.

By the time Alex refastens his belt around his hips and turns around to face him, Michael is still trying to tame his chaotic curls—a futile effort after all the tugging Alex did when Michael was blowing him. Alex can’t find it in himself to be anything other than charmed.

Michael catches him looking and abandons his work with a smile as he pulls Alex into a kiss, soft and sweeter than Alex is expecting. 

Alex sighs into it, his fingers catching Michael’s jaw to keep him there a heartbeat longer, even as he murmurs, “I should go,” when they part, his face still a scant few inches from Michael’s.

Michael lets out a deep, ponderous sigh that Alex feels against his mouth. “You don’t sound like you want to.”

“Do I ever?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Michael pulls back enough to look at Alex’s face. He stares at him for a long moment, eyes searching for something, and Alex feels exposed, like Michael is looking right through him. 

“What are we doing, Alex?” he asks at last, voice no louder than a whisper.

Alex looks away, cowed by the question. 

He was trying to give Michael and himself space while they figured out who they were now and what they really wanted from each other, but that went out the window weeks ago now, the second a narrow escape from a Project Shepard black site drove Alex to Michael’s doorstep, a USB full of classified research on alien technology held tight between his shaking fingers. 

One moment of weakness had turned into many, many more, but with Michael still on the road to sobriety and Alex still running himself ragged trying to take apart the rest of Project Shepard, it just didn’t feel like the right time to try to chart out their future together. They agreed that keeping things casual and non-exclusive was the safer option for now, that they could give each other something of the closeness they craved without adding in the pressure of being in a real, committed relationship just yet. 

But even as he has that thought, Alex can’t help but hear how ridiculous it sounds. There’s nothing casual about the way Alex brings Michael dinner when he knows he’s too wrapped up in an experiment to remember to feed himself, or the way Michael fixed the automatic setting on Alex’s temperamental espresso machine last week so he could get a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning. They might have told themselves they weren’t ready for a relationship, but, if he’s being really honest with himself, they’re already halfway there. 

And as Alex looks at Michael once more and sees the twin hope and trepidation in his whiskey-toned eyes, he can’t help but think, What the hell are we waiting for?

“Alex?” Michael asks again, head cocked to the side, still waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know,” Alex tells him honestly. “But… I think I’m ready to have that talk now.”

Michael takes his meaning immediately. “Really?” he asks, his eyes lighting up. 

“Yeah,” Alex answers, and the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth is quickly smothered when Michael surges forward to kiss him again. Alex is happy to let him, his heart swelling in his chest with emotions he’s no longer afraid of feeling. 

“Just not here, okay?” Alex continues when they part. Public bathrooms really aren’t the best place for long overdue love confessions and Alex is pretty sure he’s got an angry not-boyfriend to deal with outside. “Meet me at my place in an hour.” 

“An hour?” Michael pouts dramatically. It’s unfairly adorable.

Alex laughs in spite of himself before pulling Michael closer. “We’ve waited eleven years for this,” he reminds him. “I think we can make it another sixty minutes.”

“If you insist,” he sighs, but he’s smiling as he presses another kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I’ll see you there.”

Alex watches him leave, nerves buzzing in his stomach as he anticipates the conversation he’s about to have with Forrest.

His worrying turns out to be for nothing, though—When Alex finally exits the bathroom, Forrest is nowhere to be found. A little asking around tells him he put his drinks on Alex’s tab and left as soon as his performance was over. 

Alex can’t help but feel a little bad about hurting him, but as he pulls up to his house twenty minutes later to see Michael’s truck already parked in his driveway, the man himself perched on the edge of his tailgate with his feet kicking restlessly at the air, he knows he’s made the right choice.

Because so what if he wakes up in the morning to a few angry texts from Forrest? He’ll also have the love of his life snoring softly beside him and another thirty minutes to kill before his coffee is ready, and Alex is determined to never take either of those things for granted ever again.

[crowdedimagines]

Leaked - Harry Styles

2.8k :) 

“Y/n?” His voice rings out a soft echo. The only noise in my room tonight. I simply answered so the incessant buzzing on my nightstand would finally cease. If only I had checked the contact, I wouldn’t be sitting up straight in bed, staring into the black of my room.

“Hello?” I answer back after a long enough pause for both of us to know that I have just woken up and I wasn’t fully aware of what I was answering.

“I’m sorry to wake you. I forgot what time it is there right now.” I can hear some shuffling on his end, it sounds like he’s getting up and walking around. He must be in London right now, not in his home only a ten minute drive from mine in Malibu. I lean forward and rest my elbows on my knees, letting my comforter drop from my shoulders.

“What’s wrong Harry?” I ask, cutting to the chase. The slight nervous edge in his voice tells me that something is most definitely wrong. I can’t just sit in silence waiting for the world to stop, I need him to spit it out. Spit out whatever made him call me after nearly a year of no longer being together.

“I had a leak. Someone hacked my phone.”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but this was far from it. I let out a sigh, he’s okay. At least physically. I can feel a slight weight lift off my chest, but it’s far from light still.

“Okay?” I prompt for him to continue.

“It’s pictures of you, Y/n.”

And to think I was worried about him. His words make my ears ring for a few seconds. An eerie pitch fills the void between us, neither of us knowing the words to help this situation.

“Which pictures?”

I switch Harry to speaker and open twitter, ignoring the mass texts that are coming in right now. My manager and my publicist ranting on our group chat but the messages fade into the background as soon as my eyes cross the trending page.

“Um-”

#Y/n’sleaked

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” My hands start shaking as I look over the images shared with the entire world. Not even just one, multiple over the time we shared a relationship.

A picture I sent him on tour, standing in our mirror with not a thread of clothing. Bare as the day I was born. I remember taking this picture as a tease right before he had to take the stage at Madison Square Garden. Now more people than can fit in Madison Square Garden have seen that picture.

Next, is a picture of me in a rather compromising position on my knees looking up at him. It’s not hard to tell what was happening or about to happen. Harry took this one, It was already a hot night for us, and somehow him pulling out his phone snapping a quick picture made it even hotter. Now I need to worry about my family ever seeing this.

Finally, the most modest of the group, a picture of me in simple dark red lingerie thrown on the bed by Harry. Once again, a picture that Harry had snapped himself. I had just come home from tour and he answered our door and I dropped everything I had, including the clothes I had been wearing. He chased me up to our room, he finally caught me in our room and literally threw me on the bed. He pulled out his phone claiming he wanted to remember the sheer joy he was feeling in that moment. Now it’s bringing me dread.

Tweet after tweet sharing the same group of photos.

Harry doesn’t say a single word, knowing that I’ve seen exactly what he was trying to break down to me.

“Oh my god.” I shutter, refreshing as the tweets come in by the hundreds.

“Y/n I-”

I hang up before he can utter another word. I can’t speak with him right now, knowing exactly who’s to blame for putting me out there like that. We broke up nearly a year ago, if he had simply deleted the photos once the relationship was over, maybe we wouldn’t be here.

I read the thread of messages between Jordan my manager and Paula my publicist. Both are trying to diffuse the situation. I wonder how they found out, did they get a call at two in the morning from Jeff?

I simply reply that in the morning to meet at my house to get everything sorted out, there’s no point in stressing over what we can’t change and losing sleep over it. They both agree to be at my house bright and early at seven.

I put my phone back down and pull myself under the covers. At least for a few more hours this can’t be real. A few more hours I can hide under the covers and pretend that this isn’t happening.

I put coffee on, knowing that the girls will be here any moment, hopefully with a plan in hand on how we can diffuse the situation.

“Good morning.” Paula smiles cheerily followed by Jordan who just has a tight smile.

“Please tell me there’s something we can do.” I sit down on my touch, letting my hands warm on the mug.

“Yes, we-kind of!” Paula gushes.

I look to Jordan for a clear answer. Paula has always been a little nuttier, I love her to death, but right now I need serious and I need a plan. I need cold and honest.

“I talked with Jeff for a while last night and we both agree that we think it’s best for us to meet up together to discuss a course of action in person. We have a flight in an hour.”

“So you’re telling me that my nudes leak from his phone and now I have to hop on a plane to go see him?” My jaw must reach the floor by now.

“It’ll be better to get this all sorted out with both teams together. We have the same common goal here, we just want to make this look a little better.”

“Easy for you to say when it’s not your body trending on Twitter.”

“I wasn’t the one sending them.” She raises her brow, she’s told me a dozen times to never put myself in a position like this. That there can’t be any leaks when you don’t take anything private.

I climb upstairs to my room and grab a bag to start packing. I throw on a cute sweat suit and find a pair of dark tinted sunglasses. If anything, the airport is the last place I should be right now. The paparazzi are worse than they’ve ever been, even with Harry, I’ve never been bombarded like this. They throw question after question to me, hoping to get the first scoop on me the morning after it leaked. While it’s still hot and trending with every news outlet.

“Jesus.” Paula mutters, “Still got all your fingers and toes?”

I smile finally, “I’m fine, thank you.”

The flight is peaceful, thankfully. Jordan types a mile a minute on her laptop next to me. Surely, trying to work out a plan and get as many pictures taken down as possible. Not that it matters now, it’s out in the world forever now.

A sleek black car picks us up and drives the familiar route to Harry’s London home. We pull into the driveway and it knocks the air out of my lungs as soon as my feet hit the ground. There’s several cars that don’t belong to Harry, which means it’s a full house today.

I let Jordan walk in first, letting myself weakly trail behind. I haven’t seen Harry since the break up. Maybe once at an award show, but it was far away and we didn’t exchange words. I definitely didn’t think I would be stepping into his house again.

“Jordan.” Jeff greets, getting up from the dining table where it looks like people have set up camp. A whole crew of people making calls, scouring Twitter, and god knows what else.

“Hi, Jeff.” She smiles.

I look around a little, trying not to be obvious. The house looks the same, Hardly a single thing out of place in over a year. Not that I expect it too, I never fully lived here outside of a few weeks at a time. It’s not like our shared Malibu home that we sold in the break up. This place was always predominantly his.

Speaking of Harry, finally he looks up from his phone, he had been biting at his cuticles probably worrying, panicking. He tucks his phone in his back pocket and walks over to the rest of us. Paula instantly pulls him down for a hug, she always loved him.

“Harry!” She sighs.

He lets out a soft laugh and bends down to hug her short stature. We make eye contact a few times, but never say anything.

“I wish this was under different circumstances.” Paula whispers, even though we still all catch it.

“No hug? Harry teases Jordan. They were never close but at least he’s attempting to lighten the mood. Harry is probably the last person on this planet that she wants to hug.

“I’m not your biggest fan right now.” Jordan sighs, her steel cold gaze returns. I bite back a smirk over how protective she can be sometimes.

“Y/n, I-” Harry starts, finally turning his full attention to me.

“Y/n!” A louder voice cuts him off, I glance over his shoulder to see Gemma getting up from the couch in the living room, Anne close behind.

“Oh my god, I’ve missed you!” She pulls me in for a hug, her arms pulling me in tight, as if to make up for the months of nearly no contact.

“I’ve missed you too, Gem.” I tighten my grip around her.

Anne appears in my line of vision now, smiling softly. I release my grip on Gemma and she does the same, Anne taking her place.

“You’ll get through this, darling.” She whispers softly as she rubs her hand up and down my back. Her words bring tears to my eyes. I’ve tried to not let myself be sad about this. I’ve only felt anger, but hugging Anne has opened the floodgates. “You’re strong.”

“I need to freshen up.” I clear my throat, Anne pulls back and smiles.

No one says a word as I excuse myself to the closest guest bathroom. I wash my face with cold water and take a few deep breaths trying to prepare myself somewhat for what I have to go out there and face. I open the door and notice Harry leaning against the wall across from the door.

“Hi.” He picks his head up, no longer staring at the ground.”

“Hi.” I say back.

“Y/n I am so sorry. I had no clue any of this would happen. If I had known-”

“Why did you keep the pictures Harry?” I ask, I want answers not apologies. He’s still Harry and I know he’s feeling so much guilt right now.

“I don’t really know.” He shrugs, “I wasn’t being pervy with them, wasn’t keeping them for any indecent reason. They were just another memory that I didn’t want to lose. I didn’t delete any of the pictures.”

I can’t think of a response which is fine because Jeff calls for both of us to join them. We sit down at the table along with a few unfamiliar faces. As soon as we do they dive into the details, talking about how somehow Harry’s iCloud was hacked and that meant they had access to all photos.

“Well why are my pictures the only ones out there? It’s his phone that got hacked!” I yell.

“We don’t know.” Jordan answers, “We don’t know what else they got either. If they have more that they’re waiting to sell.”

“Fuck’s sake.” Harry mutters, rubbing over his eyes.

“Well Harry, got anything else I should worry about? Or any other girls you should warn?” I turn to look at him, a flash of red creeps up his neck and hangs around on his cheeks. It was a low blow, but it slips out before I can stop it.

“There’s no one else.” Harry answers, “And for other pictures I don’t know to be completely honest.

“Well, it might help for us to get an idea of what else could be out there. We should try and get an idea of what else the two of you have.” Jeff's words make me look to Anne, now it’s my turn to blush but she isn’t phased by any of it so far.

“Well it could be worse.” A man from Harry’s team states as he shuts his lap top, leaning in to join the conversation.

“How so?” Gemma prompts crossing her arms over her chest.

“Any publicity is good-”

“Don’t you fucking dare finish that sentence.” I cut off the man before he can continue. “You can’t talk. You can’t say any publicity is good publicity. Not until your body is trending on Twitter. Not until everyone with social media has seen your body, talked about it, and used it. Not until you have to call your parents and tell them you’re sorry and to stay away from phones for a while. Not until your body is no longer your body.”

The chair loudly scrapes against the floor as I stand up. I can’t sit here at the table and listen to them talk about it like it’s not as huge as it is. Because to them this is work, to me it’s my real life. I make my way towards the back porch. It’s always been one of my favorite spots. It’s got the best view of the garden.

I trust Jordan for decisions on this. She knows me well enough after all of these years together. They’ll run anything else past me, but I don’t need to be in there while they attempt damage control.

I sit down on the outdoor couch and pull my legs up to my chest. It’s peaceful for a few minutes and I just let myself bask in it. I could probably fall asleep if I tried, jet lag and all. It’s soft, but still loud enough for me to hear the door open. I turn to see Harry just standing there, trying not to invade my bubble while still giving me my space.

“C’mon.” I nod to the spot beside me. There’s no point in being mad anymore. What’s done is done. I will always love Harry more than the drama.

He shuffles over and takes a seat. A slow fog rolls in as it slowly gets darker.

“Do you ever miss it?” His voice quiet and steady. I don’t have to ask to know he’s talking about our relationship.

“Harry, we dated for three years, of course I’m going to miss that. Now what’s got you all sentimental? See those pictures and remember how good of a lay I am?” I tease bumping his shoulder with mine, with a smirk. He lets out an airy laugh, easing the tension.

“No, even before these past few days.” He finally looks over at me, tearing his eyes away from the yard, “I always miss you.”

“Harry.” I sigh. “We both agreed. We were both touring, we never even saw each other. And when we weren’t we were stuck in the studio. Different studios I might add.”

“Isn’t rarely seeing each other better than never?”

His question hangs in the air, both of us leaving it unanswered.

“I don’t know, Harry.” I answer after several minutes. The sun dips below the horizon, and my head dips down to his shoulder. “I don’t know.”

I don’t know how long we sit like that. The sun is gone now, and the breeze actually feels cold, but Harry’s arm is heavy and warm around my shoulder.

The door suddenly opens causing both of our heads to perk up. It’s Gemma with the smallest smile on her face.

“They’re asking for you guys in there.”

“Ready, love?” Harry stands, holding out a hand to pull me up with him.

“Well it’s now or never.”

part two? let me know what you guys think

[mizunetzu]

Can you do Daichi x male reader where Daichi asks his boyfriend to come over to meet his team and he forgets and goes home so Daichi give him a call and is like "where you at?" "I cant come I look like a clown." "I bet you dont look that bad." "No you dont get it im in full drag." So his boyfriend comes to the gym in full drag, booby and butt pads, and monster heels, and when he walked in it's like Kags that recognizes him as his drag name.

LMAOOJSKE DRAG QUEEN READEKRNRNF

——————

Daichi x reader - DRAG QUEEN?!

⚠️warnings - drag queen, college first year reader x high school 3rd year (if that’s even a warning skdjd)

Pronouns- male, he/him

——————

Daichi said it on impulse, really.

“Do you guys...wanna meet my boyfriend?”

Everyone in the gym stopped. They were in middle of a practice match between themselves, and just when Yamaguchi was about to serve, he choked on air and missed the ball completely. The ball flew in the air, before landing somewhere near his feet.

Everyone stared at Daichi with a variety of expressions. Some shocked, some looking at him like he ‘said I’m gonna chop my dick off,’ and some who didn’t even care. (Tsukishima, obviously.) Ukai had to call timeout, since no one could focus after what Daichi blurted out.

Suga chuckled awkwardly, slinging a towel over his shoulders. “So uh, ahaha, your um...gay...?” His voice progressively died down into a whisper.

“Yeah. Is...that’s a problem?”

“No! No! I fully support y-“

“AND YOU CHOSE NOW TO TELL US? DUDE, WE COULD’VE LIKE, THROWN YOU A COMING-OUT PARTY!” Tanaka shook his captaincy the shoulders, while Noya squirted water into his mouth with his squeeze bottle.

“Well I don’t really mind, I’m already out, I was just asking if you wanted to meet him.”

“DO WE?! OF COURSE WE DO! DOES HE PLAY VOLLEYBALL?! DO YOU THINK HE COULD JOIN THE TEAM?!” Hinata jumped up and down, slowly inching is way towards Daichi with an awestruck look on his face. He’s rather surprised Hinata isn’t more shocked.

“Yeah. Uh-no, sorry. He doesn’t play.” Daichi chuckled, patting an excited looking hinata on the head. “I don’t think he has work tomorrow, so tomorrow’s really the only time he can come to practice.”

“Work?” Asahi looked up from the towel he was using to wipe off his sweat. “How old is he? Is he a third year?”

“He’s a first year in college. Actually-I think he goes to the college in Sendai.”

Asahi exhaled. It would’ve been weird if someone as young as a highschooler were to already be working, when the could be enjoying their time in classes or clubs. “Where does he work?”

Flashbacks of all the drag shows and money being thrown around a stage whipped across Daichis mind like a slap to the face. He’s sure the team wouldn’t mind, especially because they already don’t mind him having a boyfriend, but he isn’t sure if (Y/n) was ok with him telling his team he was a...y’know.

“...I’m not sure?”

————

“Oh-hello Daikkun! How was practice today?” (Y/n) opened the passenger seat to his door, waiting for him to step inside. Sometimes he liked to pick him up from school before he had to get in makeup for a night show. That didn’t stop him from doing a little bit of eyeliner, though.

“It was nice. I told them they could meet you soon. The team.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, you don’t have any shows tomorrow, right? I kind of told them tomorrow.” Daichi scrubbed at the back of his neck, while (y/n) started up his car. “I know you’ve wanted to meet them.”

“You bet your ass! Well-I mean I have a show at like 2 am but that doesn’t matter. What time can I come? Are they nice? Didn’t you say there was one who was really short but could jump as high as me in stilettos?”

“Oi-! Focus on the road!”

“Sorry, sorry! I’m just excited. Anyways! Can you come to my show tonight? I’ll sneak you in.”

“Every time I go to one of your drag shows I get scared someone will kick me out since I’m 17.”

“Dude, have you seen yourself?!” (Y/n) gestures over to Daichi, putting emphasis on his thigh-region. “You’re big and muscly enough to at least pass as 18. It’s just a one year difference, when’s your birthday again?”

“I can’t believe you forgot, I’m hurt.” Daichi chuckled, fiddling with his backpack straps on his lap. “Besides, doesn’t your show run kind of late today? I don’t get to choose when to take my classes like you, (L/n). And I have morning practice, so I need to sleep.”

“You’re no fun, Daikkun.”

“Yeah, yeah, My house is over there.”

————

(Y/n) scrolled through his phone for the nth time that day. Fanning himself dramatically, he huffed and buried his face into his pillow. There was nothing to do today, and since he took morning classes, that left him with the rest of the afternoon to ponder, before working at night.

Was there something to do today? Was he forgetting something? He felt like he was, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it.

He glanced guilty at a tube of light pink lip gloss tossed haphazardly on his desk. A light bulb went off in his head.

Hastily throwing his covers off his body, (y/n) dragged himself over to his closet, grabbing the lip gloss in the process. He shuffled through hangers of clothes, finally pulling out a girls uniform he bought from when he was in high school. He never wore it to school, choosing to wear the boys uniform, but he thought it’d be nice to have when he was feeling fruity.

Slipping on the skirt and cardigan, he walked over to his desk mirror. He unscrewed the wand from the tube of lip gloss, tentatively applying it generously to his lips. He shrugged. He figured he could do some more makeup. It’s not like he’s busy today, right?

Carefully winging the tip of his eyeliner, he took a step back and admired himself in the mirror. He looked cute, yeah, but cute wasn’t really his style. It screamed ‘cute femboy’ rather than his usual ‘sexy ass drag queen dominatrix who could step on you with their sharp ass knife heels’

Damn. He was really about to go all out, huh? Time to bring out the butt pads and fake boobs.

————

Sighing contently in front of the mirror, (y/n) did a little spin, puffing out the length of his dress. Damn, he was hot. And with his impossibly high monster heels? Take me now.

(Y/n) was in the midst of taking a couple cute selfies in front of his full length mirror, when his screen went grey and a caller ID appeared.

‘Incoming call - Daikkun!! <3’

(Y/n) smiled unconsciously and clicked the bright green button with his thumb. He brought his phone to his ear and twirled a piece of his faux wig with his finger.

“Hi Daikkun! Did you need something, cutie?”

“Are you still coming over?” Daichis voice was hushed, and the slam of volleyballs rang though his speaker.

“Uh-what for?”

“To meet my team? Where are you?”

Fuck.

(Y/n) paled as he eyed himself in the mirror. He couldn’t show up looking like that. And it was too much to take off before Daichis practice ended. This was the only time he had to meet this team Daichi had always been talking about, and he’d completely forgot.

“...I can’t, I look like a clown.” (Y/n’s) voice came out a hoarse, nervous-chuckly whisper. He could taste the expensive red lipstick sitting on his lips.

“I’m sure you don’t look that bad.”

“Dude no, you don’t understand.” (Y/n) picked at the hem of his dress, the silicone boobs suddenly squeezing his chest a bit too tightly. “I’m in full drag.”

A silence rang out from both sides of the line. Daichi awkwardly chuckled.

“Ahaha uh-didn’t you say you didn’t have work today?”

“No! No I-I don’t have work til like-later later but like-I got bored and I forgot I was gonna meet your team today...sorry-“

“Well I’m sure they won’t mind if you show up in drag. I mean-they seemed pretty ok with knowing we’re a thing so...?”

(Y/n) gulped.

“...I guess I’ll see you in ten minutes then.”

—————

“Good work everyone!”

Ukai dismissed the players, leaving them to start rolling up the net and cleaning up the gym. Sugawara jogged up to the captain, dragging his mop lazily behind him.

“You said your boyfriend was gonna come today, right? Where is he?”

“Uh,” Daichi checked his wrist, before realizing he didn’t have a watch and fished out his phone. “He should be here any minute now-“

Just in time, the doors to the gym creaked open. Daichi smiled, leaving Suga to trail behind him curiously. He reached for the door handle, giving it a firm pull.

In stepped a boy with a long synthetic wig on, and heels that made him tower over Daichi easily. The sharp platforms of his heels clicked with each step he took, jewelry and accessories also bobbing up and down. And not to mention the ‘bobbling’ the silicone boobs made. Jeez, even if they were fake, they did still jiggle a hell of a lot.

(Y/n) bent down daintily, pressing a kiss onto Daichi’s cheek. Lipstick smeared on his sweaty cheek, leaving a dark imprint on the side of his face. (Y/n) seemed to finally take notice of all the astonished stares directed at him.

Should he A, stand beside his boyfriend awkwardly and pick at the loose thread of his dress or B, put on his confident drag persona and play it off?

He chose B.

(Y/n) smirked and leaned on on of his feet, placing a hand on his hip. “What? Like what you see, boys? I’m afraid I’m already taken, though.”

Fuck. Fuck fuck. Fuck. Even with the confident display, (y/n) couldn’t help but stay somewhat behind Daichi, trying to shrink behind his 10 inch heels.

Immediately, a bald guy and a kid with a bleached strip on the front of his head erupted into excitement.

“Yo! Sick dress, dude!”

The atmosphere lightened up tremendously. (Y/n) let go of a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Well thank you, Mr. Bleach strip.”

The bald one, who introduced himself as ‘Tanaka’, slapped Daichi on the back. “Dude! What’s with all the surprises?! You tell us you have a boyfriend but you didn’t tell us he was a drag queen?!”

“I-to be honest I didn’t know he was in drag today-I didn’t know he had work.”

The closet door opened, with Hinata and Kageyama walking out from placing the net inside. Hinata gasped excitedly, while Kageyama froze. Hinata practically bolted towards the unknown person wearing heels and jumped up to his height. (Y/n) choked on air. This kid practically flew at him.

“Wow! Are you one of those ‘drag queens’ I see on tv sometimes?! Cool! That’s so cool! I-“

“ARE YOU QUIMCHI?!”

Hinatas throat closed up, along with (y/n) after hearing his stage name being called out so...dramatically. The boy continued.

“...F-FROM THAT ONE INTERVIEW THEY DID ON THAT ONE CLUB ON THE LATE NIGHT SHOW WITH SHIN’ICHI HATORI?!”

Kageyamas booming voice rang through the gym as he pointed at (y/n) with wide eyes. Everyone’s gaze went from (y/n) to Kageyama, who was frozen in place. Even (y/n) was a tad bit confused.

The club he worked at recently had a special done on TV, and (y/n) was only in the background. He didn’t know how this...boy recognized him from that, or why he was even watching the drag special on that show in the first place.

“...yeah...yeah I am,” (y/n) smiled awkwardly and a boy with blond hair and glasses chuckled from somewhere in the gym.

The boy, with another guy with dark-green hair, walked out from the storage closet aswell. “Who knew the king was into that kind of stuff? Drag queens? No disrespect, ma’am-sir.”

Kageyama seemed to unfreeze just to glare at Tsukishima with a flushed face. “I-IM NOT! MY STUPID SISTERS JUST A BIG FAN, IS ALL!“

Kageyama turned to (y/n), and marched scarily fast towards him. He stopped abruptly and bowed his head so far it made (y/n) take a step back.

“M-MAY I HAVE AN AUTOGRAPH FOR MY SISTER?! AN-AND MAYBE A PHOTO TOO?!” Kageyama stiffly held his arms to his sides as he kept his head down. Small chuckles and snorts sounded from all around the gym, (y/n) even joining in and patting the black haired boys head.

“Sure thing, doll.”

————

“Your team was nicer than I thought.”

Daichi looked up questionably, fastening his seatbelt. (Y/n) started up his car. “What do you mean, nicer?”

“Well-I thought they were gonna be a bunch of meatheads banging their heads together. They’re actually more interesting than I thought they were going to be. Especially that Kageyama guy.”

Daichi smiled contently. “I’m glad you like them, then.”

A comfortable silence breezed by them, the only sounds audible being the hum of the car engine and the soft tapping of Daichis nails against the armrest. Daichi stole a glance at (y/n). His wig was discarded, placed neatly on the backseat with the wig cap and hairpins resting underneath it, and his hair was slightly damp and messy due to being constricted. His lipstick was a bit smeared from when he kissed him on the cheek, and droplets of sweat gathered near his hairline.

Daichi set his fingers lightly on the spot where the lipstick mark sat, caressing it softly so the lipstick wouldn’t smear more that it already has. He exhaled softly and shifted his gaze back down. He wouldn’t mind if he came to his practice again.

“...so wanna come to my show tonight, Daikkun?”

“It’s at 2am, no.”

—————

Extra:

Kageyama: miwa.

Kageyama: MIWA.

Miwa sighed and checked her phone, sliently scolding her brother for bothering her. She stretched and rubbed her eyes. She swore, if Tobio wanted a ride home from practice...

Miwa: mm

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Miwa: DUDE

Miwa: AJDJSKDKF

Miwa: HOW THE FUCK

Miwa: TELL ME YOU GOT QUIMCHIS AUTOGRAPH DJFJDJE

Kageyama: -photo sent-

Kageyama: I DID. I GOT ONE FOR U AND ONE FOR ME

Kageyama: HE WAS SO TALL TOO

Kageyama: LIKE HE WAS A HALF FOOT TALLER THAN ME EVEN WITHOUT THE HEELS

Miwa: WHY WAS HE AT UR PRACTICE WHSHD

Kageyama: apparently he’s dating my captain

Miwa: WHAT RHE FUCKCIDNEBRJ

——————

[thiswasinevitableid]

For the Meet Ugly Prompts-38, NSFW Danbrey?

Here you go! Note: there are mentions of blood in this.

38: overhear you ordering your coffee in a coffee shop and I’m trying to place your voice when I realize that you’re the phone sex operator I’ve been calling on and off for the last few months but the realization startles me so much that I accidentally spill my drink on you and you’re pissed

“One spiced mocha, one oatmilk latte!”

Aubrey reaches for her mocha just as a painfully cute blonde in overalls grabs the latte.

“Oh, excuse me” the blonde calls over the counter, “could I get a lid, it looks like you’re all out at the station. Thanks, you’re the best.” She smiles at the teenager who hands he the lid while Aubrey tries to figure out where she’s heard “thanks, you’re the best” said that exact way before.

Oh shit. Oh shit.

She’s heard that voice every Tuesday and Friday when she calls LoveBites, the premiere service for people who really like vampires. Really, really, like vampires.

Honeysuckle, as the woman on the other end of the line calls herself, probably isn’t a vampire. Aubrey figures most of the people who work that line are just very good at pretending to be fictional monsters. She is, however, incredibly good at getting Aubrey to cum with vivid descriptions of where she’s going to sink her teeth.

“AH! Hey, watch what you’re doing.”

Aubrey snaps back to the coffee shop to discover her drink is now all over Honeysuckles shoes.

“Ohmygod, I’m, I’m so sorry.” She grabs a fistful of napkins, drops down to clean the mess of coffee and chocolate syrup from the floor. She reaches to help clean off the other woman's shoes only for her to wave her away.

“It’s fine, I got itshit” she glares as Aubrey, in her attempt to get out of her space, stands too quickly, bumping her head into Honeysuckle’s cup and sending it all over both of them.

Okay, she can totally salvage this. Right?

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

“...then I just ran away.”

Duck laughs so hard on the other end of the phone that he startles Dr. Harris Bonkers.

“Oh come on, like you’ve never done something embarrassing in front of someone cute.”

“Dunno, you might have just beaten my ‘six Freudian slips in a row trying to ask ‘Dird how his weekend was.’”

“Ugggggggggggggggh.”

“It’s okay, Lady Flame” he manages to sound genuinely sympathetic through his giggles, “lots of cute folks out in the world who you ain’t spilled two cups of coffee on.”

“Yeah.” She checks the neon orange clock on the wall, “I gotta go practice my tricks for this weekend. Thanks for listening to me whine.”

“Any time, Aubrey. See you at the show.”

She gets through two tricks, including the one where Dr. Harris Bonkers disappears from a box, but she can’t focus. It’s not nerves; instead, she feels like if she got off just once, she’d stop feeling so tense and be able to run through the rest of her act without issues.

It’d be a very bad idea to call LoveBites when she spilled a drink on her favorite operator. She doesn’t feel like talking someone new through her preferences, and she knows with Honeysuckle she’s guaranteed to get off, which wasn’t always the case with previous operators. Besides, the length of her calls must be enough to pay for a replacement drink.

She grabs her phone and dials. Soon a familiar voice purrs down the line.

“Hi, Aubrey. How’s my favorite human tonight?”

“Good?”

“You don’t sound so sure about that, fireblossom.” It’s a new pet name; ever since she mentioned her stage name, Honeysuckle likes to give her ones woven through with flames.

“I, um, I'm fine?”

“Did something happen today, hot stuff?”

“Uhhhhh. Um. I, uh, I made a fool of myself in a coffee shop. I, um, I spilled my drink on a cute girl. Also hers.”

Honeysuckle goes quiet.

“I, um, I think the person I spilled them on was you.”

“..............spiced mocha?”

“Yeeeeah” Aubrey curls inwards, trying to cringe away from her phone, “I’m really sorry about your shoes. And your overalls. And your drink. I, um, I wasn’t gonna mention it but it feels, like, weird not to and I really was going to offer to replace your coffee except I was kinda worried I’d somehow spill that too. I’m, I’m sorry. I just really like talking with you.” She smiles shyly, “you’re my favorite vampire.”

Dead air, then “you really want to make it up to me with another drink?”

“Yes!” Aubrey sits up, hopeful.

“Even if the drink isn’t coffee?”

“Sure it, it can be whatever you want.”

A hungry purr that makes Aubrey reach for her trusty vibrating wand, “In that case, don’t go anywhere.”

“What? But you’re-”

The line goes dead. Aubrey stares at it, frowning. What is she supposed to do now? Did they get disconnected accidentally? Should she just call back?

She shoves the toy back in the drawer, paces back and forth between the kitchen counter and the table where her cards and flashpaper are strewn about, unsure whether she should make dinner, practice, try to get off, or just give up on everything and go to bed.

From his hutch in the corner, Dr. Harris Bonkers honks, thumps his feet in alarm, then turns his bugged-out eyes on Aubrey and thumps again as if to say, “what the fuck, why aren’t you heeding my warning?”

“Aww, it’s okay buddy. Is that cat on the fire escape again?” She looks out the window, finds nothing but some mist. Mist that’s hovering on her tiny balcony and no one elses. She blinks.

Honeysuckle is standing on the other side of the glass; she’s wearing a loose green tank top and grey yoga pants, golden hair taking on the tint of the nearby streetlights. She gives a demure wave as Aubrey throws the back door open.

“Holy fuck I thought the vampire thing was just, like, a gimmick.”

A shrug, “There’s more humans than vampires working the line, but some of us are the real deal. I know a few vampires who do it because it lets them work nights and keep an actually nocturnal schedule. But some of us do it as a side job and go out during the day. Which means we see cute girls in coffee shops who we think we might ask out who then spill drinks on us.”

“Aw beans. Wait, were you checking me out for real.”

“Uh huh. You must have been doing something super interesting on your phone to not notice.”

Aubrey resolves to delete Candy Crush immediately.

“Um, so, not that I’m not happy to see you again, but like how did you find my house?”

“We can trace numbers on our end. It’s a security thing; back when the line started some hunters kept trying to use it to go after vampires, so we needed to know where calls were coming from.”

“Blegh, that sucks.”

“Yeah, not my favorite.” She flutters her eyelashes, “any chance I could come in?”

“Absolutely, uh, here” she holds the door--which has no risk of closing without a lot of force--so the vampire can step into the apartment.

“Do I, um, should I still just call you what I always have?”

Golden eyes look her up and down hungrily, “Dani is fine.” Then she squeaks, “ooooh, hi there little guy, can I say hi? Oop, okay, some other time.” Dani smiles as the rabbit ducks into his covered box, “animals can be kind of skittish around me at first. Which makes sense.” When she turns to look at Aubrey, her fangs are visible.

“Hooboy that’s, that’s, uh-”

Dani steps back, “I can back off. I just, um, I thought since we’re both into each other and you were, um, already in the mood for some lovebites maybe we could -”

“NoItotallywantto!” Aubrey grabs her hand, pulling her towards the bedroom, “sorry, the fangs are apparently an insta-horny button in my brain.”

“Good to know” Dani spins her by her shoulders and pushes her back onto the bed, fangs now on full display, “take your clothes off, fireblossom.”

Aubrey thanks herself from two hours ago for changing into her pajamas so she doesn’t have much to rid herself of. When she gets her shirt off, Dani is down to her underwear, green boyshorts showing off her legs and completely distracting Aubrey from any unwelcome self-consciousness.

“Mmmmmm” Dani crawls onto the bed with her, “I thought you were cute before but fuck, you look incredible like this.”

“Thanks” Aubrey’s breath catches as Dani bumps their noses together, “can, can I kiss you?”

“Please.”

She raises up on her elbows, mapping Dani’s mouth with her own. Aubrey’s kissed plenty of people in her life, and there have only been a few where the gesture felt like coming home, like she was slotting against a body that was meant to be with hers. All of those pale in comparison to the way Dani’s body seems to meld with hers. She gasps when the vampire cups her right breast, teasing the nipple with her thumb as she eases Aubrey all the way down. Her other hand finds her face, traces from there to the base of her neck, touches moving from light to sharp as she curves her nails down her skin.

When the fangs scrape her sternum she moans. Dani snickers against her, kisses and nuzzles her way down her chest, sighing when Aubrey threads her fingers into her hair.

“So, my pretty snack, what were you going to ask me for when you called?”

“I, I was kinda hoping we’d talk about you eating me out.”

A kiss above her belly button, “I was hoping you’d say that.”

“OhgoodOH, ohfuck” she opens her legs wider as Dani dips her head between them, “ahhhn, please, a little higher, ohfuck, god.” Her hips twitch as Dani sucks her clit. There’s a muffled laugh as two fingers tease her cunt.

“Wow, you really do like the fangs.”

“I mean yeah, but that’s more because you’re really hotOH, ohyesfuckthat’sgood.” She moans as Dani presses two fingers in, stroking and rubbing in time with the vampire’s increasingly wanton groans.

“Fuck, Aubrey, that’s it, you look so pretty like this, be a good girl and cum for me.”

“Trying” Aubrey squeaks as Dani laves her tongue across her clit and curls her fingers inside her, “fuck, right there, yeah, ohyes, that, just like that.” She squeezes her eyes shut, clinging to Dani’s head and to the hand gripping her thigh. When she cums it’s intense enough that she’s terrified she’s going to kick Dani accidentally, but the vampire simply holds her thighs down, lapping at her until her moans die down.

“Fireblossom?”

“Uh huh?”

“You still owe me a drink. Whatever I want, remember?”

“Yeah? Oh, oh fuck yeah.” She squirms in excitement as Dani drops to the floor and pulls Aubrey towards her until she’s able to hook her knees over her shoulders.

Dani pushes stray hairs from her face, “If you start feeling lightheaded, tell me okay?”

Aubrey gives a thumbs up, winces at how dorky it is, then giggles when Dani cranes forward to kiss it.

The vampire kisses a line from her right knee to her inner thigh, sighing loudly when she noses a certain patch of skin.

“Perfect.”

Fangs sink into her skin and Aubrey clamps her hands over her mouth to avoid waking the neighbors. It’s a sharp, precise pain, flooding her body with the urge to lay back and let Dani take her fill. Then the teeth retreat and Dani’s tongue takes their place, licking the red rivulets and moaning as she sucks at the punctured skin.

“Such a perfect snack.” Dani looks up at her, heavy-lidded and scarlet-mouthed.

“Dani” Aubrey reaches for her, not sure what she’s even asking for.

The vampire takes her hand, rubs it against her cheek, “Does it still feel okay?”

“It feels so good.”

Dani smiles, turns her head to pierce the left thigh, Aubrey moaning weakly as she drinks from her. The moan is echoed, and when she manages to lift her head she sees Dani’s hand is not between her own legs.

“Oh god that’s hot.”

The vampire grins at her, “I get dinner, you get a show. It’s perfect.”

Aubrey watches her lick the bites until they cease bleeding, her moans pitching higher as she fucks herself, getting off on the taste of Aubrey’s blood-tinted skin. Then she tenses, tipping her head back, fangs glinting in the light from the windows, and gasps Aubrey’s name as she cums.

Then a blonde head rests on her knee. Aubrey sits up, Dani’s hair as they catch their breath.

“I, um, I should clean you up. Do you have band-aids?”

“Bathroom.”

Dani stands, cheeks much pinker than before, and returns a minute later with the Pokemon band-aids that Aubrey bought solely for the Charizard ones. She wipes her legs with a warm hand towel, gently pats the bandages into place, stealing giddy glances at Aubrey the entire time.

“You know that fucking ruled, right?” Aubrey rests her head on her shoulder when Dani joins her on the bed.

“Glad you liked it, fireblossom. Can’t believe I’m lucky enough that the hottest human I’ve met in years has a thing for vampires.

“Pretty sure I just have a thing for you. Which, um, I mean this can totally stay casual but, um, do you want to go out sometime?”

Dani nods, leans in for another kiss. She must have borrowed Aubrey’s mouthwash, since she tastes of mint instead of iron.

“I’d love to, Aubrey. But, um, let’s avoid coffee shops for awhile?”

“Good plan.”

[putas-in-suffering]

I wish u would write a story about angel being in love with a stripper but being cool with it and always coming in to support his lady 😉

Okay, sucias....strap in because we took this idea and ran with it. Because guess what? Your putas have zero chill 🙃🙃. We had hella fun writing this and now that the universe has been created, who knows? Maybe we’ll explore it some more 😏

Anyway, take a read and let us know what you think! Besos 💋💖

*We added a Part 2! Check it out here.

You threw your robe on, hastily tying it so that you could go meet your boyfriend. You’d seen him walk in at the start of your dance, eyes captivating you as you gyrated on stage and slid down the pole in the center. He was your biggest fan. Your loudest cheerleader. He was unlike any man you’d been with. Fully supportive of you and your chosen career path. And you were going to do everything in your power to make sure you kept him.

Your six-inch heels clicked on the sleek black floor as you maneuvered through the throngs of bodies in the crowded club. Men tried to garner your attention, hoping you’d stop and pay them a visit. Most knew not to reach out and touch, but some had to be reminded. If you couldn’t send the message, the security team surely would.

You headed towards the small section that the MC liked to hold up in, the area still visible from the main stage but secluded for private dealings. Your man always sat at the bar when you performed, his eyes focused on you and only you. And you danced for only him. Every night. Even if he wasn’t there. You thought of nothing but him as you touched yourself and got lost in the hypnotizing beat of the music, feeling the breeze of crisp bills being thrown at your nude form. It was a high like nothing else. One that Angel Reyes had only made better since he’d strolled into your life.

You walked through the thin curtains that sectioned off the area, smiling when your eyes met Angel’s. He was sitting on the end of a long, curved booth, unlit cigarette propped in his mouth. You walked over, butterflies in your stomach as he opened his tattooed arms to you. He spread his legs, letting you stand between them as he looked up at you.

“Hi,” You greeted, leaning down to hover over his lips.

He pulled the cigarette from his mouth, pocketing it inside of his leather.

“Hi,” He mirrored, a smirk hidden beneath his facial hair.

You met in a kiss, the action becoming increasingly inappropriate as his hands began to wander under the sheer pink fabric of your robe. His hand skimmed the back of your thighs, meeting the flesh of your ass. You’d changed into a rhinestone bra and panty set, a favorite of his.

Your fingers threaded through his beard, feeling his tongue persuading yours further and further into his own mouth. He tasted like beer and mint, his cologne permeating the air over the usual scent of sex and smoke in the club.

“Hey! If you wanna give a free show can you at least move so we can see better!” Creeper yelled across the booth, effectively ending the moment.

You both pulled away to the snickers and chuckles of the other men, neither of you the least bit embarrassed. Angel’s fingers worked under the thin waistband of your panties, snapping the material against your skin as he licked his lips.

He was positively sinful.

And he was perfect for you.

“Did you like it?” You asked, heavily made up eyes blinking down at him in anticipation.

“Fuck yeah, mama. Made me hard watching you up there.” He confessed, his words making you shiver. His hands continued to roam your body, touching any patch of bare skin he could, which was a lot considering what you were wearing.

You beamed down at him, pleased by his praise.

“Really?” You asked seductively, leaning down once again to let what was left of your lipgloss stick to his bearded lips. You let your arms encircle his neck, playing with the raven ends of his slicked back hair.

His face was level with your breasts, his gaze flicking from them to your face. You pushed them together, arching your back so that they practically touched his nose. He moved the opening of your robe out of the way so that he could have access to your cleavage. You pushed your chest out further, silently begging him to touch you there. He rubbed his face into the pillowy flesh, his beard burning as his lips planted gentle kisses.

You closed your eyes against the intoxicating sensations, your body falling into him more as he supported you. He was sturdy and strong against you; his hard lines complimenting your soft curves. It was as if you both had the other under some kind of spell. The power each of you had to get lost in the other was almost incomprehensible. The chemistry. The tension. It made for an explosive union between two wild souls.

A wadded up napkin hit Angel in the back of the head, interrupting his exploration of your body.

“Lover boy! Some of us don’t wanna pop boners right now.” Gilly teased, chin gesturing to the fact that Angel’s hands were dangerously close to revealing your bare breasts to the men.

While you were a dancer and the men had seen you dance before, you had given no one but Angel a lap dance. They could watch from afar but touching was obviously off limits. It was a boundary that not only felt natural, but was also laid in place out of respect.

You both straightened, though Angel’s hands were still connected to your body. You smiled and finally waved at the group of bikers, the brood now as much your family as they were Angel’s. The line got fuzzy when you factored in Angel’s actual brother being there and seeing you naked. But neither seemed to have an issue with it.

“I sent a round over for you guys. Did you get it?” You asked, gesturing to the lowered tabletop that sat a few feet in front of them. Beer bottles and ashtrays littered the surface, random stacks of cash adding to the mosaic of debauchery.

“Yeah, thanks for that sweetheart.” Bishop said with a kind smile and wink, holding his new beer in his hand.

“Perks of dating a dancer.” You teased as Angel turned to face the rest of the guys, taking you with him and settling you into his lap. You sat on his thigh, legs crossed as he held you in place.

“Among other things.” He added slyly, wiggling his eyebrows comically. The action forced EZ to shake his head and laugh, the man unwilling to hear about his brother’s sexual escapades.

You got comfortable as you started to catch up with the guys, laughing and joking over the hum of music. A few of the other dancers made their way back to work over some of the men as they perched in their laps. You’d already given the crew a heads up on which girl was worth their time and money and which wasn’t.

You noticed EZ eyeing a girl across the bar. She was newer to the club, but popular among the patrons. She went by Luna and she was a sight to behold. Long dark hair with eyes to match and skin that tanned a warm caramel shade. She had a killer figure and had easily become a top earner amongst the dancers.

An idea popped into your head and you decided to give it a shot.

“Ezekiel,” You called, gaining his attention and beckoning him closer to you and Angel.

“What’s up?” He asked as he settled next to his brother, taking a pull from the beer clutched in his hand.

“You like her?” You asked, gesturing to the woman he’d been checking out near the bar. She’d made her way closer now, perusing the private sections for customers.

“Like her?”

“Yeah, you think she’s attractive...” You explained, hoping he’d take the bait.

He nodded. “She’s pretty.”

Angel scoffed next to him, clearly seeing where you were going with this. You playfully shoved at his chest, daring him to do more. He didn’t.

“Her name’s Luna. I can call her over if you want.”

“I don’t need help pulling women.” EZ said, chuckling as he did.

“I know. But she’s good. One of the better ones. New to the club. I think you’d like her.” You explained, shifting when you felt Angel lift his hips into your thighs.

“Oh, so you’re trying to set me up.” EZ accused, his head already shaking in response.

“Come on, EZ...” You pleaded, reaching for his arm. “She’s a nice girl. I think you two would hit it off. And if not, you get a bomb ass lap dance.” You reasoned, pleased to see him mulling it over.

“Live a little, lil brother.” Angel goaded, bumping EZ’s leg with his own. “She’s hot. My girl’s got good taste.” He said with a boyish smirk, kissing your neck.

“Alright, alright...if you guys will stop.” EZ finally relented, sighing as if he couldn’t believe he was letting you do such a thing.

You clapped, excited to play matchmaker for someone as deserving as EZ.

“I’ll be right back.” You said as you stood, adjusting your robe.

You stepped out of the sheer fortress of curtains and made your way over to Luna. She spotted you immediately, smiling in relief. She’d had trouble making friends. She was new and most of the other dancers felt threatened by her presence. You’d been friendly with her, instantly getting a feel for her personality. She was chill and super sweet. A perfect match for EZ.

“Hey, there’s someone I want you to meet.”

“Okay...a customer?” She asked, taking your outstretched hand and following behind you.

“Yeah. He’s really cute...a gentleman.” You said vaguely, not wanting to scare her off by saying you wanted to set them up. You figured you’d let the moment run it’s course and see what happened.

You pulled her into the section with you, noticing the way Angel and EZ were leaning close to each other and whispering. Upon seeing you, they pulled apart and straightened. You stepped towards Angel and pulled Luna along, placing her in front of EZ.

“Luna, this is EZ. He’s Angel’s brother.” You introduced, noticing the way Angel was looking between your clutched hands and scantily clad bodies. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, his eyes giving away everything he was thinking. All filthy. All explicit. You felt your entire body heat at the notion.

“Hi EZ,” Luna greeted softly, the raspy tone of her voice making the words sound more sexual than they should.

You let go of her hand as she moved towards the younger Reyes brother and settled into his lap. EZ welcomed her, his massive arms surrounding her as they spoke in low voices.

A tug on your hand made you look towards Angel, his eyes now black and hooded with desire. You let him pull you back into his lap, but this time you straddled him. His hands immediately attached to your ass, his pelvis pressing into yours, letting you feel his growing hardness.

“What’s got you all riled up, baby?” You whispered into his ear, feeling him shudder in response. You nibbled at his flesh, biting and sucking on his earlobe as your hips began to swivel in his lap.

“You.”

He groaned when you began sucking harshly at his neck, his admission ratcheting up your arousal. You were wet and ready for him, desperate to have him inside you.

It wouldn’t be the first time you’d let Angel fuck you in the club, but you weren’t going to do it with all his brothers around. You’d have to wait. Sooner or later the MC would leave and Angel would hang back, ensuring you made it home safe. Under the guise of giving a dedicated lap dance, you’d fuck yourself on his cock in the empty section. You never got caught. But even if you did, nothing could be done. No one wanted to started trouble with the MC.

The perks of dating a Mayan.

The shifting of the couch pulled you from your spot nuzzled into Angel’s neck. His finger was lifting the edge of your panties to feel you when you stopped, his touch halting when he realized your focus was elsewhere.

Luna was pulling EZ behind her, his hand grasped in hers as she led him away. They were going to the private rooms.

You smiled, mentally patting yourself on the back.

“You’re proud of yourself, huh?” Angel asked with nod to his brother’s retreating form.

You settled into his lap again, your attention now back to the man in your life. You played with the buttons on his shirt and then traced your pink nails over the patches on his leather. His rings felt icy agaisnt your skin as his hands ran up and down your thighs and ass.

You were absolutely head over heels for this man.

“Yeah I am.” You stated with a smug smile, circling your hips to the slow, sensual beat playing through the speakers. “I’ve got good instincts.”

“You do?”

“I got you, didn’t I?” You challenged, raising a well-manicured brow at him.

“I thought I picked you up.” He said, running his mouth over your neck and chest.

“Not a chance, baby.”

He surprised you by slapping your ass...hard. The slap echoed as you gasped and then giggled, the sting sending waves of pleasure straight to your core. The sound caught the attention of the rest of the guys, but they quickly went back to their conversations when they realized what it was, some rolling their eyes as they did.

“Let’s go to the back. Dance for me, mama.” He softly demanded as he kissed your chin, hand lightly gripping your neck. 

You were unable to deny him. It was frowned upon to take your significant other to a private room for a lap dance. There was a risk of sexual activities taking place and that wasn’t allowed. Though that didn’t stop you and Angel. And usually there were cameras in the rooms for safety purposes, but you knew for a fact they were broken and hadn’t been in working order in quite some time.

“Okay, Daddy...”

You led him to the hallway of closed doors, music booming from behind each one. You found one that was unoccupied and stepped in, shutting the door. Angel immediately began kissing you, his hands grasping at your breasts through the thin layer of bedazzled lingerie.

You managed to break away and push him towards the black leather couch, shedding your robe as you did. He did as you wanted, already knowing the drill.

He sat there, thighs spread and dick hard. He looked dangerous and you knew if he asked you to kill for him, you probably would. He owned every part of you. And under the cover of darkness, you were going to let him have all of those parts...and then some.

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[marginal-notes]

TLOK Episode One a.k.a. Korra immediately goes on a rampage

So, as mentioned, I’m finally getting around to watching The Legend of Korra with all of my terrible tastes and general thoughts. 

Don’t give me spoilers, my indignation will be funnier without them. 

What I Know About Korra Going In:

If the show can have all of Aang’s bending teachers still around for the audience’s nostalgic pleasure, Suki better be alive and kicking too or I am going to throw a fit

Technology progressed pretty intensely in ways that I will want to pick apart later

Listen, what the fuck is Republic City. Why. Why does this exist. Show you better answer me fast with why this exist for a legitimate in world reason that isn’t just: “The audience is a bunch of American kids and teenagers and we want to uphold the liberal ideals of democracy because of course that’s the motives of the victors after a global war of probably unprecedented scope despite like, Zero (0) indication that the idea of democracy was rattling around anyone’s heads in ATLA.” 

If this is the reason, I’m going to quit watching. Disgraceful. Disgusting.

Something involving anti-bender sentiment.

Something involving something called the Red Lotus which I am side-eyeing the shit out of 

Bloodbending?????

Spirit World shenanigans and Avatar backstory that’s on thin ice with me. 

Love triangles. UGH. TERRIBLE. WHY DOES MEDIA DO THIS. WHO FINDS THIS INTERESTING. PLEASE RAISE YOUR HAND SO YOU CAN EXPLAIN TO ME. 

Alright, here we go. 

WELL, 30 SECONDS IN AND I GOT MY WISH FOR AN EXPLAINATION ABOUT REPUBLIC CITY.

Avatar Aang and Fire Lord Zuko transformed the Fire Nation colonies into the United Republic of Nations, a society where benders and nonbenders from all over the world could live and thrive together in peace and harmony.

Okay. I’m.... I’m going to withhold judgement for now until I watch like, literally more than 30 seconds to fully form my thoughts about this move. I THINK IT’S A DUMB MOVE AND IF THIS IS WHY PEOPLE KEEP HAVING FIRE NATION DEMOCRACY FICS I QUIT.

So. We get a panning shot into this city. Very urban city that’s the product of the industrialization and like whatever the hell that propaganda voice over is talking about. 

As a method of setting the scene and immediately letting the viewers feel and know the passage of time between ATLA and TLOK, I love��this shot. There’s no mistaking this for being immediately after ATLA. We’re listening to one of Aang’s kids. There are skyscrapers. The Fire Nation palace in ATLA probably counted towards the architectural development towards urban skyscrapers, but that architecture is fully formed by TLOK. Brilliant. 

I'm the Avatar! You gotta deal with it!

What a cute brat. Her poor parents, oh my god. 

Also, is she supposed to be a prodigy. 

Again with immediately setting contrasts against ATLA. Very cool demonstration, extremely effective distinction between Aang’s journey around the world trying to find teachers and learning how to bend in the middle of a war vs. Korra at peacetime with a whole entire facility dedicated to her. 

Not sure about how I feel regarding the White Lotus’s presence. 

IS THAT SUPPOSED TO BE KATARA????

That's your grandmother, Meelo.

Does he not visit his parents. It can’t be that hard to swing by for like. Yearly festivals if the Water Tribe has those. I don’t see why not. Maybe something for when the winter night ends, I can see that being festive. 

Tenzin do you like. Not call? Not write?? Sir???

Oh my god, Pema. I hope she really likes kids, despite how rowdy they are. 

Wait. How old is Tenzin. Thirties to forties? 

How old is Katara. 

Is this going to be a repeat of the Fire Nation royal miracle babies. 

I get that, but I don't think keeping me locked up in this compound like a prisoner is what he had in mind.

Going by the episode title, I bet we know what Korra has in mind. Speaking of this compound, where’s the Southern Tribe? The aerial shots look like it’s in the middle of nowhere. Is she so far removed that she doesn’t even spend time with the tribe she was born into? Cause that sure as hell wasn’t how Aang was raised. 

Honestly fascinating as these contrasts keep coming. The bizarre presence of the White Lotus. The way her teachers come to her instead of her seeking her teachers the way Aang and Roku did. 

The Avatar must have always been a special political figure, without any good contemporaries to our world, to be honest. Back in ATLA, we see that Roku isn’t beholden to Fire Nation citizenship - he seems to transcend that. And it honestly seems important that Roku and Aang went out to the world, experienced the other nations and their ways of life. I think Aang does have a line regarding this. 

Because Korra’s situation? Can easily turn into a nightmare, given the realities of what being the Avatar could easily mean. 

OKAY THIS SHIP. Very cool looking, very neat, I continue to love every visual manifestation of the passage of time between ATLA and TLOK. One small question. What’s with the rigging poles. 

(source)

To be fair, this is a battleship from the British navy, but aesthetically I think we can say this is a fair inspiration. From what I remember while researching the coal fic, the rigging and poles there serve no function. It’s aesthetical. At best, there’s a limited function, but it’s predominantly for aesthetics in the transition into the ships like the Titanic with no rigging at all. 

Which raises my question about WHY ON EARTH?? The Fire Nation navy in ATLA??? Were clearly way past this stage in design? Literally during Sozin’s time too??? Almost two hundred years before this current shot in TLOK? Why would the ship design regress like this??? The Water Tribe ships probably wouldn’t evolve into the designs that Europe used? Earth Kingdom ships would probably be more inspired by East Asian designs which also wouldn’t end up with this system for sails? 

Where does this aesthetic come from. 

IS THAT A CAR. 

....

.......

..........

I am not qualified at all for dissecting the potential social and cultural explanation for the western influenced aesthetics appearing. I am but an ignorant banana, I don’t know shit. 

.......

oooooooh this is going to slowly annoy me isn’t it.......... 

That will be twenty yuans.

[Jaws theme]

The city's huge. I bet we could find a place to rustle up something to eat.

You know, I’ve seen plenty of weird shit in Central Park and around NYC before. Korra, you are so unprepared.  

Are you tired of living under the tyranny of benders? Then join the Equalists!

Oh boy. Let’s.... let’s put a pin in this thought. I’ll come back to it once I know more about what’s going on. Because. This will either be fun. Or I’m going to have to create a second spite fic folder. Please, show, don’t give me reason to create a second spite fic folder. 

On a different note though, I really do love the choices so far for setting up this show’s forward path. There’s no way to mistake this as a rerun of ATLA. This is it’s own separate story and I love that. I really do respect that. The way the different threads are emerging feel really smooth: 1) the impact of Korra’s isolation towards her culture shock in the giant city - which must smell and sound REALLY weird to her; 2) her prodigious talent in the physical, exciting parts of bending meshing with her teenage nature and also clashing with the spiritual parts of being the World Bridge; 3) the absolute hot bed of chaos every part of Republic City must be. 

Kinda funny that people would still have sideburns in the same style as from like. Seventy years ago. Vintage. 

Mr. Chung, please tell me that you have my money, or else I can't guarantee I can protect your fine establishment.

My terrible taste in interests rears its head again. Listen, you cannot imply something like the mafia or the triads exist in universe and not have me immediately ALL OVER THAT. Republic City, you are such a mess. Like, for this alone, I might write a single fic for TLOK that’s just about trash collection and disposal. And corruption. And- 

I am fascinated by the genetics and molecular/cellular biology behind the yellow and white eyes in this universe. 

Police! Freeze where you are!

Bitch what the fuck. How many of these rigid airships are part of the police. Are all of them for the police? Are the police literally patrolling people from the sky? 

Also, that better be helium in those ships instead of hydrogen by this point in time. I’ve already made my post about the fleet of hydrogen ships in Sozin’s Comet. 

How much property damage is being inflicted thanks to these couple minutes. The police just. Stab the brick work. There have got to be so many bitchy lawsuits about that. 

This poor girl’s culture shock. 

HEY I HOPE THAT POLICE OFFICER SWUNG THEMSELF ON A CLOTHLINE, NOT AN ELECTRIC LINE LIKE I FIRST THOUGHT. 

HEY YOU CAN RIP SOMEONE’S SCALP OFF LIKE THAT. 

HEY WHAT IS WITH THIS WHOLE SCENE. 

HOW ARE THEY JUST RIDING ON THOSE WIRES, HOW MUCH TENSION IS IN THAT STUFF. 

HOW DOES THAT ZEPPLIN MOVE THAT FAST AND LIKE. AGILE. 

YALL. 

WHY DOES THE POLICE STATION LOOK LIKE THAT

Well then, why are you treating me like a criminal? Avatar Aang and your mother were friends. They saved the world together.

Oh this bit is fascinating, I love it. It’s only been 18 minutes, but the level of sheer propaganda everywhere trailing after Aang is really cool. There’s so much I want to know now about how Aang got from the end of ATLA, where he probably wasn’t thinking AT ALL about this kind of cult legacy forming around him, to this. 

Lin Beifong’s shut down of Korra’s attempt to use her status as Avatar is great. Just because Korra’s born into this elite role and then locked up and probably pampered in her compound, where everyone is well aware of her status and what it means, it doesn’t mean she gets to strut around with no idea how stuff works or the context behind what she’s seeing and then doing whatever she wants. 

Contrasts, love ‘em. 

On a different note, the design of this room. 

As far as I can tell, it’s a dim, doorless��room, which is honestly. Really terrible design. And it says something about the way the Republic City police functions and how that reflects on the chaos of the city itself. 

Putting someone dragged into the police station in a dim room without any door as a sign of a possible escape is just a terrible idea. The only thing you’re going to succeed in is making the person tenser and more belligerent. Your suspect or witness gets more nervous, gets more combative, gets more unreliable in this kind of environment. In turn, the police probably starts feeling more and more entitled to harsher retaliation. Conflict resolution? De-escalation? That really doesn’t look like its in the core of the city police. They’re wearing armor for god’s sake. 

Everything so far in this first impression of the police is really damning about their attitude and Lin Beifong’s leadership. Rather than using a rappel line down from the airships, they damage buildings. In chasing Korra, they further damage property. The armor, this freaking room. The fact that so much about the active police shown so far depends on metalbending, which implies that very few people can join the field police. The fact that for the gang to be so blatantly in the open about their presence and territory, there must be dirty cops on their payroll. 

There has to be so much Lin Beifong hate in this city. 

I have done my best to guide Republic City toward the dream my father had for it, but you're right. It has fallen out of balance since he passed.

If anyone tries convincing me Republic City was ever in “balance” they’re a punk ass liar. I don’t think the city could have ever been in balance, whatever that is. The way it was created, the speed it expanded, the life that must be lived there - balance? Don’t kid me with that propaganda. 

Tenzin could be trying to find a balance alright. I just wonder how many people vehemently disagree with his idea of balance. 

Hello? I'm Korra, your new Avatar.

Well, TLOK is definitely in the era of mass distribution of news and the idea of public sentiment at a level never seen before. This is going to be very interesting for its populist implications, along with other developments regarding politics. 

Oh Korra. Did no one try rehearsing this with you? This is a terrible first impression for you to give to people. 

Also, what is this building. Is this like a city hall? Why is the roof on the building to the side slanted like that. That’s an angle I’d expect from like. Snow concerns. In northern Europe. 

Love that Avatar Aang propaganda. Starting to feel like we’re going to see a lot of it going forward. 

Oh my god, everything about this press briefing (?) is highly concerning. This rampaging teenager suddenly appearing without any warning or announcement. The clear lack of script or practice. The open location just to anyone instead of to a select set of journalists who would be sympathetic/under government control. Lin fucking Beifong and Tenzin being the only people accompanying Korra on the stage. 

What a disaster. 

FINAL THOUGHTS

You know, I’m enjoying this more than I expected to. The general writing is great, the use of visuals and other small details to set the time and place is excellent, the worldbuilding implications are rich in potential. I’m looking forward to exploring where the plot threads introduced so far will lead towards!

[haloshornsinkstains]

And What If I Bite Back? [Motonari]

“There aint no reason to get so nervous when I’m around. I don’t bite, I swear it.” He paused, considering her for a moment. “Unless… ya’d like to get bitten. Whatdya say? I’ll make ya feel real good.” She relaxes her arm, hand falling to her side as she studies him intently, head tilted slightly and a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "And what if I bite you back?"

--

Inspired by literally two lines in Motonari's East vs West special story. Mostly just self indulgent smut

It had just been a normal trip into town, she’d needed some supplies and wanted to get some new fabrics for her seamstress work. It had turned into anything but, Hideyoshi insisted on accompanying her to ‘keep her safe’ and now she’d finally managed to get away from his sometimes overbearing kindness she was met with an unexpected face. “Well well, didn’t expect to see you here m’lady.” She startled, fingers twitching towards the tanto she keeps hidden in her robes these days. Too many close calls with people who thought more of her relationship with Nobunaga than there ever would be, or men who saw her as weak, easy prey. Masamune had taught her well enough to defend herself in a pinch, but she hadn't expected to use it so soon. "You know my babysitter is just in there…" He stumbles over the word babysitter but fixes her with a grin, the type of smile she imagines a shark shows its prey when it's far too late. “There aint no reason to get so nervous when I’m around. I don’t bite, I swear it.” He paused, considering her for a moment. “Unless… ya’d like to get bitten. Whatdya say? I’ll make ya feel real good.” She relaxes her arm, hand falling to her side as she studies him intently, head tilted slightly and a smirk pulling at the corners of her lips. "And what if I bite you back?" Her voice is close to a purr, a ripple of something dangerous and promising under it. It pulls a bark of true laughter from him, warm if not a little wicked itself. "Oh you're feisty. You're welcome to try mlady, if I'm feelin' generous I might even let you." She smiles, tapping a finger against her lips thoughtfully and he takes the time to study her for a moment. He's heard plenty of stories about the Azuchi Chatelaine, an Oda Princess if the stories are correct  although not in the same way most princesses get their titles. There are stories a plenty, and rumours both good and bad seem to spring up wherever she goes. Some say she’s a reincarnated goddess, others a yokai of one description or another, once or twice he’s heard the word enchantress. Many are convinced she can't just be a woman. There's a tale that she once struck Oda Nobunaga and yet she still lives. He can believe it now, watching her grin at him, far less afraid and far more curious than she should be. She opens her mouth to say something, a promise of something in her eyes as she does but she falters when her name is called from the main street. Huffing a sigh she turns, looking back at him with a grin that's far too dirty to look so sweet. "I'll see you next week." It's a promise, not a question, and for a brief stupid moment he truly considers just kidnapping her now. But that voice was Toyotomi Hideoyshi and he's here on good honest business for once, so he just nods his head at her with a wink. No kidnapping today. Maybe next time.

As she disappears he finally settles on his answer to the mystery that is the Oda Princess. She's the sea, he decides, a whirling contradiction of fierce waters and calm tide pools. Both wild and gentle and not to be tamed by any man. Motonari knows the sea, knows it and loves it, and, he thinks, he would quite like to know this woman too.

He never expected to see her the next week, didn’t hope she’d be there at all thank you very much. He much less expected to see her there without one of her usual contingent of bodyguards. He wanted to make some smart comment about how she couldn’t possibly have known he would be there, about her following him like a lamb to the slaughter, but her smirk was disarming. And after all, of course he was here - he did good honest trade. Some days anyway. But there she stood, lips quirked up in a smile and head tilted ever so slightly as she stared at him. Her hand still hovered near her hidden blade, clever girl, but there wasn’t the same tension in her shoulders he’d spotted last time. “What? Not even a hello?” She shifted slightly, one hand coming to rest on her hip. “Don’t tell me you’re all bark and no bite. Now what will I do with my day off?” He chuckled. “Yer brave, I could be plannin’ to do anything to ya.” “Oh? But you don’t know what I’m planning to do with you either.” She hadn’t shifted her hand, her shoulders a little more tense than before, but the smirk still rested on her lips. “Ah ya gotta learn to take a joke” he huffed, as if he hadn't ever had plans of kidnapping her "my ship is…" "Ah, no." She cut him off, a little sharp despite the smile. "I'm not quite that foolish." "Ya don't trust me?" "Should I?" Well no, no she shouldn't. He chuckled and glanced around him, as if he thought she meant to do that here . Interesting. He smirked, embers burning in his eyes as he looked back at her. She watches him for a few seconds before breaking into bright amused laughter. "Not here! I have a reputation to maintain! I know a place not far from here, very discreet I assure you." "An if I didn't want discreet?" He tried to make it sound like a challenge, but all notions of him being anything other than willing to follow were betrayed by the look in his eyes. "Humour me." She slid past him, only glancing back once as he gathered his things and followed. He was going to get something out of her, he told himself, something more than what she was offering. As much as it seemed like what she was offering was a party all of its own.

She slid the door closer behind her, positioning herself between him and it on what felt like a mockery of their true positions. "You said something about making me feel real good?" For the first time in a long time he wonders if maybe he’s the one in danger here. But she stays where she is, not moving closer nor making any efforts to leave. As if she knows , knows that he doesn’t like to be touched, as if she’s waiting for him to decide despite all his bravado whether he really wants to do this. So she waits, that damned teasing smile on her lips, while he sorts his thoughts. She’s letting him make the first move, and so he does. Stepping forwards to close the gap between them, calloused fingers twitching at his side and he’s close enough to feel her warm breath on his skin. Then she moves, slowly bringing one hand up to stroke at the skin of his cheek, his jaw, touch featherlight as if he’s some wild animal ready to startle and flee. And, he supposes, he is. But her gentle touch is enough to put a torch to the fire racing through his veins, all at once too much and not enough, and he finds his body moving of its own accord, a hand tangling in her hair as he pulls her in for a bruising kiss. She melts against him willingly, foolish woman, clever fingers already trying to work his haori from his shoulders. “Eager are we?” He chuckles against her lips, body tensing as her fingers brush against his neck. “You made some very intriguing promises.” She hums back. She’s still being gentle with him, he realises a little too late, despite the passion of the kiss her movements are slow, tentative. He’s giving him time to stop her, he thinks, as she slowly works fingers into the neck of his kimono to ease it open. Terrible, dangerous, considerate woman. As if she doesn’t seem to want this even more than he does. Something inside him snaps, hands grasping her wrists and pinning her hard against the solid wall. Her eyes go wide and he wonders if this is where she comes to her senses, pushes him away and bolts for her freedom like any sane woman would, if he’d even let her at this point. But that’s not fear in her eyes, not entirely, sadness and a little disappointment take the stage instead. She looks like she thinks he’s stopping her, like she’s disappointed at that. Instead he leans into her, teeth nipping at her ear with his voice a deep growl in his chest. “I aint gonna break y’know.” A moment of surprise, then the sly smirk is back. “Neither am I.” The last remaining threads of whatever was holding them back snap and he surges against her, the hand that isn’t pinning her to the wall finding its way past the hem of her kimono to run down her side. When had her obi been lost? Did it even matter? His teeth graze against her neck, hand gripping her hip almost hard enough to bruise as she whines and bucks into him. “Ah, good girl. Sing for me.” She keens, pliant and willing as his hand dips lower, finding the space between her legs already hot and slick. For him, he thinks, running a finger between her folds and drinking in her gasps and mewls as he does. Motonari has never been a gentle lover, doesn’t think he could even try to be at this point, but the way she writhes under the lightest touch has him almost feral. He drives two fingers into her, surprised at how she can offer so little resistance but feel so tight at the same time. “Ah Princess. ” "Fuuuuck." She writhes against him, curses falling from her lips as his thumb brushes the little bundle of nerves at the apex of her entrance. "Oh fu- ah - more." Like this, pinned against the wall of an inn, flushed and wanton and practically begging for him, he could believe she's a demon. A siren come to steal him away with her sweet cries. He thrusts a third finger into her heat, biting down hard on her shoulder as she clenches around him. "Motonari… oh … please. " He knows what she wants, he'd be a fool not to, but he's too lost in the way her legs are trembling and her muscles clench around his fingers as he ducks his head to pepper red bitemarks across her chest. He's a little rough but she doesn't seem to mind if the way she shivers and unravels against his hand as his teeth find a rosy nipple, his name a strangled prayer on her lips.

He keeps her hands pinned as she pants and sags a little against him, more to keep her upright than anything. There's something wild in his eyes when she looks at him curiously, maybe a little disappointed, her skin still flushed and breath coming in ragged pants. "Didn't think the party was ending there didya?" She doesn't get a chance to reply, world spinning as she finds herself landing on hands and knees on the futon, kimono a disheveled mess around her waist. She hears the rustle of clothing, casting a glance over her shoulder and licking her lips as she sees Motonari stood there shirt open and cock in hand. And oh he's so beautiful, like a bronze sculpture. She wants to run her mouth over every exposed piece of skin, taste the salt of his skin and lap up the pre come beading at the tip of that beautiful cock. But the wild look in his eyes tells her he's after something else, the slight tilt of his head asking the question without words. "Please." She breathes, tongue running over her lips once more. "Captain." He pounces. He isn't gentle but she never expected that from him. Doesn't think she'd want him to be, not when the punishing pace he says has her melting so hopelessly into the futon, arms collapsing under her. "Ah… aaahhh…. So tight." He grunts, fingers digging into her hips as he pounds into her relentlessly. "Oh, Moto- fuck -Motonari. So good. So…" she's babbling senselessly, she knows,  the words garbled and half formed. But she's too thoroughly fucked to care, that tell-tale coil building in her stomach. She tries to warn him when the tension snaps, but the words die in her throat in a noise less scream, muscles clamping down around him for the second time that day. He follows close behind, barely managing to pull out of her before he's shooting hot ropes of his seed across her back.  Not worth the hassle of one of her lords coming after him if he didn't and something happened after all.

With a pleased tired moan she collapses into the futon, letting him shift to lie beside her. She's good enough not to try and cuddle up to him, not like most women, though she does turn her head to watch him through a heavily lidded gaze. She looks gorgeous like this, hair missed and face flushed. She looks throughly fucked, his marks standing out red against her pale skin, and gods help him it suits her. "Told ya I'd make ya feel real good." He pants, cocky smirk firmly back in place. She laughs, swatting his arm lightly as she nods, still breathing too heavily to speak. "I'll be back in town in a few weeks, might have some fabrics that'll interest ya." Her eyes widen just a fraction, but enough for him to read her before her lips quirk up again and she nods.

[thatwasthenightthingschanged]

"In retrospect, you could say I was beginning to question things.

But then it was 2018, and a couple of things happened. First, Love, Simon came out in March, which was one of the most electrifying, unforgettable, truly extraordinary experiences of my life. But having your book adapted to a film brings a lot of notoriety and attention, especially online, and it’s not always the fun kind. Unsurprisingly, there was quite a bit of discourse about my identity — how could there not be? Love, Simon was the first gay teen rom com to be released widely by a major film studio, and it was based on a book written by an allocishet woman. Yes, the film’s director was openly gay. No, not everyone cared (frankly, a lot of people still don’t know Love, Simon was based on a book). But in many online spaces, my straightness was a springboard for some — legitimately important — conversations about representation, authenticity, and ownership of stories. And for some people, my straightness was enough to boycott the film entirely.

Then Leah on the Offbeat came out about a month later, and the discourse exploded all over again. There were thinkpieces based on the premise that I, a straight woman, clearly knew nothing about being a bi girl. There were tweets and threads and blog posts, and just about every single one I came across mentioned my straightness. And when Leah debuted on the NYT list, authors I admired and respected tweeted their disappointment that this “first” had been taken by a straight woman. Of course, Leah wasn’t the first f/f YA book to hit the New York Times list. And maybe people were wrong about the other stuff too. But the attention and scrutiny were so overwhelming, and it all hurt so badly, I slammed the lid down on that box and forgot I’d ever cracked it open.

At least I didn’t remember I remembered.

I deleted the sexuality labels from my website. I declined to answer certain questions in interviews. I’d get quietly, passionately indignant when people made assumptions about other authors’ gender identities and sexualities. And I’d feel uncomfortable, anxious, almost sick with nerves every time they discussed mine.

And holy shit, did people discuss. To me, it felt like there was never a break in the discourse, and it was often searingly personal. I was frequently mentioned by name, held up again and again as the quintessential example of allocishet inauthenticity. I was a straight woman writing shitty queer books for the straights, profiting off of communities I had no connection to.

Because the thing is, I called myself straight in a bunch of early interviews.

But labels change sometimes. That’s what everyone always says, right? It’s okay if you’re not out. It’s okay if you’re not ready. It’s okay if you don’t fully understand your identity yet. There’s no time limit, no age limit, no one right way to be queer.

And yet a whole lot of these very same people seemed to know with absolute certainty that I was allocishet. And the less certain I was, the more emphatically strangers felt the need to declare it. Apparently it was obvious from my writing. Simon’s fine, but it was clearly written by a het. You can just tell. Her books aren’t really for queer people.

You know what’s a mindfuck? Questioning your sexual identity in your thirties when every self-appointed literary expert on Twitter has to share their hot take on the matter. Imagine hundreds of people claiming to know every nuance of your sexuality just from reading your novels. Imagine trying to make space for your own uncertainty. Imagine if you had a Greek chorus of internet strangers propping up your imposter syndrome at every stage of the process.

The thing is, I really do believe in the value of critically discussing books, particularly when it comes to issues of representation. And I believe in the vital importance of Ownvoices stories. Most of the identities represented in my books are Ownvoices. But I don’t think we, as a community, have ever given these discussions the care and nuance they deserve.

Consider the origin of the Ownvoices hashtag. It was created in 2015 by author Corinne Duyvis, with the purpose of highlighting stories written by authors who share the same marginalized identities as their characters. But Corinne has always emphasized caution when it comes to using Ownvoices to determine which authors can tell which stories. And she’s been incredibly clear and emphatic about not weaponizing the term to pressure authors to disclose private aspects of their identities.

So why do we keep doing this? Why do we, again and again, cross the line between critiquing books and making assumptions about author identities? How are we so aware of invisible marginalization as a hypothetical concept, but so utterly incapable of making space for it in our community?

Let me be perfectly clear: this isn’t how I wanted to come out. This doesn’t feel good or empowering, or even particularly safe. Honestly, I’m doing this because I’ve been scrutinized, subtweeted, mocked, lectured, and invalidated just about every single day for years, and I’m exhausted. And if you think I’m the only closeted or semi-closeted queer author feeling this pressure, you haven’t been paying attention.

And I’m one of the lucky ones! I’m a financially independent adult. I can’t be disowned. I come from a liberal family, I have an enormous network of queer friends and acquaintances, and my livelihood isn’t even remotely at risk. I’m hugely privileged in more ways than I can count. And this was still brutally hard for me. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for other closeted writers, and how unwelcome they must feel in this community.

Even as I write this, I’m bracing for the inevitable discourse — I could draft the twitter threads myself if I wanted to. But I’d rather just make a few things really clear. First, this isn’t an attempt to neutralize criticism of my books, and you’re certainly entitled to any reactions you might have had to their content. Second, I’m not asking you to validate my decision to write Simon (or What If It’s Us, or mlm books in general).

But if I can ask for something, it’s this: will you sit for a minute with the discomfort of knowing you may have been wrong about me? And if your immediate impulse is to scrutinize my personal life, my marriage, or my romantic history, can you try to check yourself?

Or how about this: can we all be a bit more careful when we engage in queer Ownvoices discourse? Can we remember that our carelessness in these discussions has caused real harm? And that the people we’re hurting rarely have my degree of privilege or industry power? Can we make space for those of us who are still discovering ourselves? Can we be a little more compassionate? Can we make this a little less awful for the next person?

Can you tell I’m angry? Because I’m angry.

But I’m grateful, too, for those of you who understood the hidden (and not-so-hidden) threads of my books before I did. I’m grateful for the writer whose vulnerability made all of this finally click into place for me. And the ones who put their hearts on the line to hold space for people like me. And the ones who made me feel like I was allowed to care about this. And, of course, I’m grateful for the books. Some of you have no idea how much your words have helped me find mine.

Anyway, all of this is to say: I’m bi. Sorry it took me so long to get here. But then again, at least the little red coming out book I needed was already on my shelf (in about thirty different languages).

I think I finally know why I wrote it."

author Becky Albertalli ("Love, Simon", "Leah On The Offbeat") on her coming out process and the harsh criticism she had to face for he books (whole article here)

I think this perfectly illustrates why we, as a community, should stop assuming other people's identity

[jovialyouthmusic]

Girls’ Night Out

A multiple AU piece of fun featuring my female LIs

The boys have a plan - how will it work out? The girls are determined ot enjoy themselves...

Word Count 2180

A/N A little non con and near nudity.. not suitable for under 18s

5 Having a Ball

Lucy’s Drake settled back into the leather upholstery and reached out for his cut glass tumbler. He inhaled the scent of whisky, closing his eyes.

‘Speyside malt, no more than ten years’ he murmured, and Brad chuckled

‘You’re learning fast, grasshopper, it’s seven years old’

‘Well’ Lake replied ‘Now I’m in a threeway marriage with Lucy and the King of Cordonia, I get to actually buy the whiskey I want instead of having to sneak into your study and steal it’

‘You’re getting soft’ scoffed Chake ‘Though who am I to judge – I’m married to the Queen of Cordonia’

‘There certainly are more malts available than in my time’ John admitted. The four men lounged in high backed leather chairs in the smoking lounge of his old Regency club. It was not entirely authentic, as he’d allowed the range of whiskies served to include those from the time line of his guests – and conceded that smoking inside was probably not a good idea. He had only frequented the club for a short while, visiting when his father had fallen ill, and using it rather more often once he had started courting Elizabeth Dalgleish. The food there was a little more refined than the cook at his town house could manage, and it was a good place to rub shoulders with those who might give him advice on how to run his estate now that his father had left him sole heir.

The only one not relaxed by their surroundings was Bastien. He realised he was being unreasonable, worrying about how the women were faring in the club, but old habits die hard. He had tailed Leo into many dingy clubs and bars in the past, and he’d seen the kind of trouble that bubbled up unexpectedly, even in the better ones.

‘Chill, Bas’ Lake said ‘have a whiskey, they’ll be fine. I’m more worried about any men who try to tangle with them.’ Bastien slumped out of his usual upright posture.

‘It goes against my training’ he said ‘I want to be there looking out to stop trouble before it escalates’

‘Les won’t let anything happen, trust me’ Brad said soothingly ‘You know she hates conflict’

‘But this isn’t totally under her control’ he countered ‘We’re behind the screen’ Chake cleared his throat

‘Actually’ he said ‘I have the perfect idea as to how we could keep an eye on them’

-----

‘Strippers?’ Lizzy said, puzzled. Lucy doubled over laughing.

‘Oh you’re such an innocent’ she chortled. Sophia, who earlier on in the evening had been the voice of reason, sniggered and hiccupped. That left Charlotte to look out for their friend

‘Darling, a stripper is someone who takes off their clothes for entertainment’ she explained patiently. Lizzy frowned as she sipped her drink.

‘But why?’ she asked.

‘Well’ started Lucy ‘Because it’s fucking hot’ Lizzy didn’t dare ask what she meant and was wondering when she could call an end to the evening and be reunited with John.

‘Just watch’ Charlotte said, and leaned back in her seat. They had a table by the edge of a low stage, and were on their second round of drinks. Lizzy had continued with the drink Lucy had selected for her, as it reminded her somewhat of her mother’s tea parties amongst all the strange sights and sounds. She didn’t feel too drunk, though the room swam a bit when she went to visit the ladies’ restroom. The music here wasn’t too loud, and there was some sort of performance about to start. Lizzy jumped as a loud voice, seeming to come from nowhere, boomed out.

‘Ladies, hold on to your panties – Shanghai brings to you tonight, for one night only, the Cordonian Doppelgangers! Ladies, any resemblance to any person you might recognise is totally intentional. Let’s hear it for our manly hunks!’  Music blared out, and four men suddenly appeared with a flourish from the wings at the rear of the stage. They had their backs to the audience and swayed in time to the music that started up. To be more precise, they swung their hips in a way that made Lizzy feel rather hot. They wore jackets and trousers made of some sort of shiny black material, and had strange flat caps that she didn’t recognise.

‘Ladies, we understand tonight we have a party with us who are celebrating one lovely lady’s last night of freedom. Stand up Lizzy, show us your face – and your brave companions too’ Lucy leaned across to Elizabeth and hissed.

‘It’s okay Lizzy, we’ve got your back. Stand up and give everyone a wave – we all will’ Her legs trembled as she rose, Charlotte taking her arm reassuringly, and all four of them were applauded and cheered by the rest of the audience before they sat again. Lizzy’s heart pounded and her cheeks burned. As the music continued, one by one the men turned to face the audience, bringing their hats to cover their groins, and the voice continued

‘Ladies, let’s meet our performers - let’s hear a big welcome for – SNAKE! He’s got a python in his pants and he’s not afraid to show it’ Lizzy gasped as the first man took his hat away from his groin with a flourish as he swivelled his hips to the music. The whole room erupted, with women whooping, hollering and whistling, and Charlotte gasped in astonishment.

‘Oh my goodness’ she exclaimed  ‘it’s my Drake! I mean  - it’s not, is it?’

‘Second’ the voice continued ‘It’s GLAD – and no, that’s not a flashlight in his pocket – he’s just really glad to see you’ Lucy bounced up and down in her seat as the dancer prowled to the edge of the stage and leered down at her.

‘Ohhhh this is too good’ she crowed ‘He’s the absolute spit of Brad’

‘Thirdly – some lucky lady will be getting the attention of SEBASTIEN! He’s a stallion and he’s not shy’ Sophia shrieked with glee.

‘Fucking hell, Bas would NEVER do this’ she shouted. ‘Come here lover boy, I’m your gal’ Lizzy gaped at the spectacle, and trembled to see the final dancer turn around as Sophia’s object of affection stalked disdainfully to the edge of the stage and turned his back at the last moment to make a thrusting movement with his hips. She breathed a sigh of relief when it turned out to be the ‘other’ Drake, and not her John. She was sure she would die of embarrassment if he appeared.

‘Last but not least Ladies’ the voice went on ‘Let’s hear a warm welcome for BRAKE – he’s sure to break a few hearts – and he also tells me he’ll do his best to break you’

‘Oh my fucking god’ screamed Lucy ‘Take me boys, I’m all yours!’ She surged to her feet and climbed up on to the stage, grabbing hold of ‘Glad’ and turning her back to him, beckoning ‘Brake’ and pulling him to her so she was sandwiched between them. The music throbbed with a steady bass, and Lucy started to undulate and writhe between the two men.

They played along, focussing their attention on her, and to Lizzy’s astonished gaze, got hold of the neck of their outfits and pulled – and in one smooth movement the seams parted and they threw the garments to the side. The other two men stayed at the back of the stage, gyrating and bobbing in time to the beat as Lizzy goggled at her friend and her two companions. They were almost naked, wearing only their leather boots, hats, bow ties, and a strange pouchlike garment covering their manhood, held on by what seemed the flimsiest of thread.

As Lucy danced, the Drake lookalike suddenly flipped into a handstand in front of her, spreading his legs wide. He bounced up and down on his hands – he effectively jumped on his palms as he gyrated in a full circle in front of her, legs opening and closing as he went. She whistled and cheered with the rest of the audience until he arced his spine right over until his booted feet touched the floor and he sprang to his feet again, facing Lucy. Brad took his turn, facing her and stretching out his arms either side of her, shaking his torso and dropping to his heels before shimmying up again. Lucy swung her hips and gyrated too, hollering in appreciation as he repeated his move.

The music changed, and Lucy’s two partners grabbed a hold of her in a chair lift and took her back to her seat. ‘Snake’ came forward, dropping to the floor of the stage on hands and feet, making his way forward somewhat like a caterpillar, Lizzy observed, only more sinuous and powerful. He reached the edge of the stage and leapt off to stand in front of Charlotte, hand behind his head and his pelvis rotating before he leant forward to take a hold of her and throw her over his shoulder. He carried her to the stage screaming and protesting in embarrassment. ‘Sebastien’ had meanwhile been doing a little routine with the other two men, and went to place a chair centre stage. Lizzy wasn’t sure where to look.

Charlotte was placed carefully in the chair, and she sat, hand to mouth and wide eyed, mesmerised by her captor as he circled her, taking a hold of the back of the chair and dipping so his backside almost touched the ground. When he came back around to the front of the chair he faced her and ripped off his garment. She shrieked as he advanced on her, stepping so he was effectively astride her without touching. Again he gyrated his hips and leaned forward, hands either side of her to undulate his torso close but without making contact. She shrieked in embarrassment, turning her head to the side and laughing nervously.

Lucy whooped and hollered, and Sophia laughed and shouted encouragement, but with an eye on the fourth man. Lizzy’s mind was working overtime as to what might be in store for her before Charlotte’s turn came to an end and she was picked up bodily again and placed back in her chair.

Sebastien strode to the centre of the stage and moved forward slowly, stomping his feet and making thrusting gestures with his hips, eyes firmly fixed on Sophia. He made a little gesture with his head, lifting his chin and holding out his hand to invite her up on stage with him. Mesmerised, she got to her feet, eyes locked with his as he stood and waited for her. She reached him and they circled, never taking their eyes off each other until he pounced, seizing her and carefully laying her on her back on the stage. He stood over her with his boots either side of her hips, gyrating and gazing down at her.  At last her resolve broke and she shrieked, hands flying to her mouth, drawing her knees up.

He stripped his garment off, waving it in a circle above his head before throwing it to the side. The other three men continued to dance at the rear of the stage, stomping and bobbing to the heavy beat that throbbed in Lizzy’s chest. She was light headed as she watched Sebastien drop to the stage, hands either side of Sophia’s shoulders and feet either side of hers, holding himself inches away from her prone body, forcing her to lower her knees so she lay flat. She shrieked again as he brought his face close to hers, only a sliver of air between them. Lizzy put her hand to her face and peered through her fingers, apprehension growing. She could almost feel the heat between Sophia and Sebastien as he teased and tortured her, never touching, but making it plain what he wished he could do to her, his pelvis making thrusting movements that Lizzy didn’t quite understand. At last he stood and held out his hand to pull her up, throwing her effortlessly over his shoulder and taking her back to her seat. The music swelled and he went back centre stage to join the other three men.

They swung into a choreographed routine together, each taking centre stage to show off moves that made her feel hot all over again. They were clearly competing to see who could elicit the most noise from the audience. The music went on as they twirled and stomped, bobbed, writhed and thrust until they were all sheened with sweat. Suddenly the music dropped, and the voice came again.

‘Ladies, we have one more performer before it’s all over. Lizzy, please rise for the final member of our upstanding troupe…’ Lizzy gasped as the other women pulled her to her feet. From the rear of the stage strode John – her John, dressed not as the others, but in his naval uniform, buttons and boots gleaming in the bright lights, cocked hat held under his arm.

She saw nothing more as she grew light headed and fainted clean away.

[spiritmaiden23]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE; Mun & Muse - Meme.

fill out & repost ♥ This meme definitely favors canons more, but I hope OC’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. Multi-Muses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

My muse is:   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless /

Is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. For sure, for being the cutest of cutes!! All Zeldas are cute though but she was the blueprint ;v; 

Is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK. I’m a devout christian virgin I would never ever look at those kind of topics the only hot I see is the flames of hell for even considering this smh smh bUT NO FOR REAL THO I’M NOT REALLY SURE???? I mostly see people gushing over how cute she is rather than hot. 

Is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / In some aspects. We don’t really see Skyward Sword Zelda’s abilities in the games as we did in, say, BOTW where she goes full goddess mode. Aside from blessing the master sword, sealing herself away, and the implications that the game gives us with Zelda being not only a student at the knight school but also a badass warrior goddess in her past life; I’d say she’s pretty up there in terms of strength. 

Are they underrated?  YES / NO. GONNA GO WITH YES AND NO ON THIS. As a character, Zelda is far from underrated she’s actually cliche blonde character we all love and stan but in this incarnation.... also yes and no because while I see a lot of people like SS Zelda keep in mind that SS is the black sheep of the series so not a lot of people have good opinions on it. I’ve seen some say she’s annoying, too shoujo or even Mary Sue at some points and hweoh we all know that the last one ain’t even close to true since she’s far from bland and OP written. But it’s all a matter of perspective!  

Were they relevant for the main story?  YES / NO.

Were they relevant for the main character? YES / NO /

Are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO.

How’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD / NEUTRAL / FOR THE MOST PART, if we were talking verses like say witch verse she’d have more of a neutral reputation considering witches aren’t really well-liked ;-; 

How strictly do you follow canon?  

I try to do the best that I can do given with what we’re working with here all while adding my own spin to her characterization because we all have different perspective when it comes to art! How I see Zelda is someone who’s bubbly, playful (big ol bully hweoh), a bit of a busybody if she feels she needs to step in due to worrywart tendencies yet highly responsible and carries a wisdom that’s beyond her age, she doesn’t like seeing people bullying others and isn’t afraid to put her foot down to speak her mind if something is up. While kindness is sorta her strong suit I wanted to go beyond “nice girl” and just showcase other sides of her too, hence why main verse is typically set during the events of SS because here we see her growth into the girl we see at the end of the game where she’s melancholic of her past but is looking forward to seeing what the future holds and wants to build a brighter tomorrow with Link by her side along with friends and loved ones. I’m not at all confident in playing as her, despite playing as Zelda since 2017 haha!! So I can’t really say that I’m super strict in following canon considering that’s how I view the character through the actions and dialogue throughout the game, perhaps the creators had something different in mind than how I see Sky Zelda.   

SELL YOUR MUSE! Aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutuals.  

DO YOU LIKE WHOLESOME GIRLS?! Wait no, hold on, that’s a little too vague, so let’s try that again. Do you like wholesome genki girls who were once a god who fought in a war in their past life? How about pastel girls who may seem sweet but are deep down bullies towards loved ones? Are you at a point in your life where you find yourself wondering: where on earth can I find someone who’s ray of sunshine can brighten up my day. Will do I have good news for you buddy! Introducing your very own friend: Zelda from hit series Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword. This Zelda is more extreme than the others due to the fact that she’s not a princess, that’s right no princess titles clogging up that beautiful name. Just a knight who somehow finds out she’s actually a goddess reborn as human, no biggie! 

Now the OPPOSITE, list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

SHOUJO PROTAG WHO’S TOO FREAKING CUTE!! So.... if that’s not your cup of tea ;v; but nah I can see people not liking Zelda because not everyone like the nice girl who’s your childhood friend characrter, I totally get it but if you dig a little deeper you see that there’s more to it than that.

What inspired you to rp your muse?  

My close friend was FINALLY getting into the LOZ series back when BOTW was first coming out, her playthrough of SS made me remember how much I loved each characters and honestly Zelda’s design in that game was always my fav right next to Tetra and ALTTP/ALBW! At the time I mostly played more introverted muses or straight up villains and I wanted to try my hand at playing more wholesome characters like Sky Zel and ALTTP Zel ;v; now look at me, the CEO of wholesome cute girls ;v; 

What keeps your inspiration going?  

Motivation and time at this point, I’m not the young starry-eyed rper who used to have playlists and replay things to keep up with canon. I just pray to god I’m doing ok, let jesus take the wheel and just sorta do my own thing. I think having fun threads or a friendship with partners or just good vibes from them def helps a whole lot. 

Some more personal questions for the mun.

Give your mutuals some insight about the way you are in some matters, which could lead them to get more comfortable with you or perhaps not.

Do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.

Do you frequently write headcanons?  YES / NO. SORTA KINDA NOT AS MUCH AS I DO WITH ALTTP ZEL BECAUSE I’M ALWAYS NERVOUS THAT I MIGHT LIKE BREAK THE CANON OR ZEL’S CHARACTER!! 

Do you sometimes write drabbles?  YES / NO.  

Do you think a lot about your Muse during the day?  YES / NO.

Are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO.

Are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO / Most of the time!

Are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO. I mean, that’s a trick question because I can be sensitive in picking up tones and reading between the lines but like if you mean if someone says something mean than no not anymore at least, I’m too old to care about what people say about me or think about me. 

Do you accept criticism well about your portrayal?  

YE! I do! I mean we’re all improving and junk so I see no issues with criticisms uvub I always worry about whether or not you can hear different voices within the characters I rp as among writing issues I have that comes with learning disability and ADD, I try my hardest but I know at the end of the day there will always be grammar mistakes and even spelling! 

Do you like questions, which help you explore your character?

YES YES YES!! OMG YES!! I TAKE WHATEVER QUESTIONS YOU MAY HAVE AND JUST... WORD VOMIT BACK SEVEN PAGE ESSAY SOMETIMES ;V; 

If someone disagrees to a headcanon of yours, do you want to know why?

Eh, well yeah it’d be nice honestly to hear feedbacks and thoughts. Just saying ‘I don’t like this or I don’t agree with this’ doesn’t really help anyone who wants to improve but I’m not gonna like press them for it either because again I’m at the stage in my life where I’m just like ‘it is what it is’. 

If someone disagrees with your portrayal, how would you take it?

Shrug emoji, and then move on! Again it’d be nice if they can tell me though but I won’t press them for it if they don’t feel like it. We’re allowed to have our opinions after all yo!

If someone really hates your character, how do you take it?

It is illegal to hate sky zel or any Zel really... NAH JK I DON’T REALLY CARE I’ve liked characters who aren’t popular among the fandom, I’m more or less used to seeing character bashing for faves so like it doesn’t really affect me at all I’m just like “lol” and move on. 

Are you okay with people pointing out your grammatical errors?

YES! Though keep in mind, despite me using Grey instead of Gray, I use US English ;v; so keep that in mind when spotting out certain words other parts of the world may spell differently because us US Americans just..... gotta be extra like that. 

Do you think you are easy going as a mun?  

I TRY!!! IDK IF I COME ACROSS AS THAT but I’m very much someone who goes with the flow anyway, I’ve been told that much IRL and I’m just hweoh not really someone who’s a stick in the mud or has a stick up their ass, you know? I’m pretty laid back and not much bothers me, I can get petty if I have to come across rude people that’s the one thing that kills it for me but aside from that, I just wanna try to get along with people. We don’t have to be friends if you’re not feeling the vibes but friendly terms is good enough for me!

That’s about it, congrats for filling out!

[megalony]

Defended yourself

A Roger Taylor imagine requested by the lovely @rogersrager, hope you like it lovey.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was always some kind of buzz that pulsed through each and every blood vessel in her body, it shook them in the best possible way giving that fizzing feeling to her blood like it had been replaced with petrol. Every time they played on any stage that would have them she felt something different, it was never the same energy that they gave off and that was the best thing about them. They were so unique that they could have every audience member going from raging wildly to sobbing with emotion in less than one second. They never failed to send (Y/n)'s heart that little bit faster and sent a good kind of shaking to her bones. They always managed to make her feel alive. It didn't matter what was going on in her life or what was bringing her down, with Queen playing in the background life didn't seem so bad anymore. Tonight was no different. The one beer she had already drunk added to the buzz Queen was giving to her, and the full one set in the glass in front of her was surely going to add to that. Although she could feel the full effects of her boyfriend's band, her mind seemed to be on autopilot tonight. No matter how many times (Y/n) admired her boyfriend sat behind his drums on the stage, she could never keep her gaze there. The way Freddie pranced around the stage and captured the attention of everyone did nothing to keep her attention on them, even if her ears were automatically trained to pay attention to every vocal change he made. Roger's melodic, high pitched voice made shivers run down her spine, but even his new high notes couldn't catch her eyes for more than a minute at most. Clashing his drumstick to the cymbal on his left, Roger flipped the stick between his index and middle finger, his eyes falling to the girl sitting at the bar. He couldn't work out what it was, but there seemed to be something different tonight. Roger's worry diminished into nothing when his eyes set on the singer who spun around to face him, their eyes locking as an immediate smile lit up Roger's face. His tongue pressing to the roof of his mouth and against his front teeth as he clattered the cymbal and then the snare drum in repeated, quick motions. The drums sounded throughout the rather dingy pub they were playing, each member of the band feeling they were meant for more than this place. They were meant to be higher up there, not down here where their music wasn't bouncing off the walls enough. Where they had little space to flaunt around and show their talent that never ceased to amaze everyone and enrapture the attention of even the most uninterested drunk. The way her head turned to the left looked so uninterested, so much like her neck was nearly breaking as her eyes locked onto those of the person standing to her side just that little bit too close. Maybe it was the crowd that was getting too much to be around or the way that the girls near the front of the stage screamed just that little bit too loud which rattled in her head that made her feel like she was getting closer and closer to the edge. Feeling like her patience was wearing thin, which was an experience that (Y/n) was never used to feeling. Patience was a virtue that she had the good fortune to have, unlike Roger who seemed to have the opposite ideal in his mind. The drummer felt that patience was a waste of time that simply slowed down the inevitable. (Y/n) simply felt there was no need to be a hot head, to jump to the anger that could so easily be locked away. Roger only got mad about things he was passionate about. People mistook it for him having an absolutely terrible temper but that wasn't true, Roger defended his beliefs and if people went against them he got defensive, he never had a temper for the little things that didn't matter because he knew to walk away. (Y/n) on the other hand, found that defending something didn't always mean anger, Roger had yet to find this out. A terribly long sigh escaped (Y/n)'s lips as a headache began to form behind her eyes. She was too proud for words at the way Queen seemed to be getting more and more well known around London, they had been up and down the country doing gigs here, there and everywhere. But being well known meant more and more people crowding into one pub and doubling the capacity it was meant to hold to listen to their music. Crowds were never her thing, and the way they pushed and shoved meant she was forced to sit at the bar out of the way in order to get some kind of personal space back. As long as she was able to see the band and was in Roger's line of sight it didn't matter that she wasn't right at the front. "How about I buy you a drink?" (Y/n) realised quickly she must have drowned out whatever he had said first. Maybe it had been his name, or some kind of introduction or maybe even a pickup line. Whatever he had said obviously couldn't have been interesting enough to capture her attention. "I'm fine, thank you." A small, curt smile pulled at her rosy lips as she nodded her head to the man in a gesture of kindness, not wanting to be rude. Her hand gestured to the full glass of beer settled right in front of her, begging to be drank. "Maybe somethin' a little stronger? You look like you could use it, and some good company." The smile that pulled at his lips resembled that of the Cheshire cat from Alice in Wonderland, but at the same time, it was twisted into such a crooked way that sent violent shivers up her spine that had nothing to do with the music pulsing through her ears. A feeling rocked her heart in her chest the wrong way as she felt the urge to pull back, but there was nowhere to go unless she leaned and sat on the lady sitting next to her which didn't seem like an option. "Like I said, I'm fine." A thank you didn't seem like it was appropriate nor needed right now. Turning her head to the bar (Y/n) clasped her hand around the glass that was beginning to turn lukewarm, trying to steady her shaking as she brought the rim to her lips. Her eyes closing for a moment longer than needed as she wished he would leave as quickly as he had appeared. The busy pub was enough to set her calm demeanour on edge, she didn't need this man to make her feel even more insecure and unsafe. The glass sitting in her hold shook violently, spilling its contents across the wooden bar she rested her elbows on and over her hand coating her skin in the sticky drink that coated her lips too. Her eyes snapping open as her breathing seemed to come to a stop when his hand suddenly gripped her thigh with such force it felt like teeth sinking into her skin. Locking her slender fingers around the stranger's wrist (Y/n) threw his hand back at him, hoping he would get the message she was trying to give. She didn't know who he thought he was or what right he had given himself to think that touching her in that way or any sort of way was acceptable when he had been given no green light for his advances. He had been clearly told she was not interested and that should be enough for him to move onto another person to prey on. (Y/n) felt her stomach muscles pulling inwards as her arms tightened to her chest at how his eyes narrowed on her like he was a predator trying to catch his prey. The parting of his lips as they turned down from the Cheshire smile seemed almost like a dog snarling at her. Twisting her neck so fast she should have gotten whiplash, (Y/n)'s eyes darted to the stage faster than lightning. Her pupils trying to send an urgent message to her drummer to ask for help though he only looked back at her in dull confusion, his smile fading as he clearly didn't understand what was being asked of him. His mind too busy on the beat of the rhythm flooding through his head and body to realise what was happening, his eyes previously being glued to his friend trotting around the stage like a prancing horse as his vocals expressed their sheer talent to all in the pub. The hand that had been ripped from her skin sunk its teeth back into her skin, tightening in a way that caused small bouts of pain that were soon overwhelmed by adrenaline. (Y/n)'s breath escaping her lips in a gasp when he seemed to try and yank her leg to drag her closer to him, an act which was not taken lightly by her nor accepted at all. Her mind recognising something along the lines of stubborn bitch and come on passing through his lips although if he said any other insults or phrases they seemed to wash over her head completely. The patience that was once hanging by a thread was long gone. (Y/n) had been pushed so far off the edge that she could no longer see where she had previously been standing on it. Something inside of her snapping like an elastic band before her body catapulted round to face the predator that was in for the shock of his life. Not thinking twice (Y/n) lunged her head forward, bashing her forehead into the stranger's nose which sent him reeling and his touch dragging down her leg to her knee. His nails scraping across her skin through the fabric of her tights but she felt nothing. The adrenaline taking away the feeling of her skin splitting through the fabric nor the blood rushing to her forehead that had tried to crack his nose open. Blood poured out of the stranger's nose like (Y/n) had simply turned on a tap between his eyes. Her knee launching out so that her foot could collide with his manhood, forcing him to double over, unsure whether to hold his dripping nose or his other area of newfound pain. Roger's hand clashed onto the cymbal as his body caught one of the various wires set up around his drum kit to force its sound through the dingy pub they were playing in. His eyes wide in his skull when he watched his girl headbutt the man standing next to her. His body pushed Brian out his way, not meaning to be rude but needing to be quick at the same time. What the hell is she doing?! (Y/n) was the calm and collected one. She was the one to grab Roger by the shoulders or stand in front of him to stop him from pummelling his fist into another's face. She was the one to be the referee and say that he needed to stop, that his anger should be contained and not put on display for all to see. And yet here she was sending her head and foot violently into the man standing next to her who was seemingly now in a state of turmoil as she shouted something at him which Roger couldn't make out over the frantic pulse of his heart rushing through his ears. Roger jumped from the stage in a heartbeat, his lean figure pushing through the crowds that decided it was their job to get in his way. His hair thankfully brushing behind his face as opposed to obstructing his vision as he ran to his girlfriend who was suddenly turning wild. Reaching her in less than ten seconds, Roger was quick to wrap his arms around her waist hurridly dragging her back into his chest. His eyes closing in relief when Brian and Freddie were quick to push the guy out of the way and stand in front of (Y/n) so she couldn't kick out. Her arms flying around to try and break free as tears streamed down her features. "Fucking hell, baby stop it!" Roger practically growled, spinning around so his back was to Brian and the stranger before setting (Y/n) to her feet. Watching her spin around to face him before he grabbed her wrists firmly but not harshly or with enough pressure to hurt. Holding her hands to his chest, leaning closer to her as he nearly glared. "Stop it." His words contrasted to the rather calm and quite soothing tone he used, trying to get her to listen to him as he raised his head. "(Y/n) it's alright." Brian stated in a pleading yet hushful tone, reaching a hand out to rub her shoulder as he held his other hand out in front of him in a sign to ask her to stop. None of them cared that she had stopped their gig that was coming close to an end, they were more worried about the reason behind her outburst. Each member of the band knew her well enough to know that flying off the handle like she clearly had was not something that was in her sweet and rather introverted nature. Calm and collected was her persona that she showed to the world, raging out and attacking someone was not in her nature nor was it something she did on a daily basis or had ever done in front of them before. "Fucking slut." Brian had to take a few steps back in order to be out of harm's way when her hands ripped themselves from Roger's hold, body catapulting to barrel past the pair of them to reach the man who thought it fine to try and assault and then insult her in the space of five minutes. Tears flushing down her face as a sob left her trembling lips. Reaching out Roger did the only thing he could think of, grasping his girlfriend by the waist and picking her up. Ending up tossing her half over his shoulder to stop her from gaining the ability to lunge. "Get that fucker away before someone murders him." Roger spat, unsure if it would be (Y/n)'s anger or his own that won the battle for dominance and rights to murder the stranger who dares say something like that. His breathing turning harsh as he gave Brian a look before turning to the people standing in his way. The guitarist getting the hint and going in front of Roger, making his way to the back exit of the pub where their van was parked outside. When the door was safely closed behind them and there was no one in sight Roger set (Y/n) down to her feet. A breath escaping his lips in relief at seeing the defeated look on her face, though it broke his heart it also told him she wouldn't be trying to run back through the pub for round two. Roger quickly wrapped her up in his arms when her body suddenly trembled, a broken sob leaving her lips. Her arms wrapped around Roger's torso as his hands went to her back and the back of her head, holding her against him as he looked to Brian, both unsure of the situation that was taking place around them. "Sweetheart, talk to me. What the hell happened back there?" Pulling back from the embrace (Y/n) rested a hand to her forehead. Now that the adrenaline had run its course through her blood it couldn't prevent the pain that was dying to flood to the front of her head. Each blood vessel screaming as it supplied her forehead with its needed supply as well as an added dose of pain. Her leg soon beginning to sting from the split skin that was now making its presence known. "H-he, he wouldn't leave... I tried a-and he grabbed me. I had to g-get him off." There hadn't seemed any other choice. Telling the stranger that his advances weren't wanted hadn't worked, and physically showing him had done nothing but encourage him to repeat his actions again as if the second time would be a charm. Violence had been the only thing (Y/n) could think of that would force him away and show him that he had been very wrong in what he had tried to do. Glancing his eyes over her frame Roger felt a shiver coursing through his skin at seeing the rip in her tights and the blood that was slowly trickling through the cracks of split skin appearing through the tears in the fabric. Walking forward Roger gently placed his hands either side of her neck, gently tilting her head up so he could press a kiss to her forehead which he knew would become agony soon. Making her feel like she was having some God awful kind of hangover in the morning when she had had only one pint of beer. "He hurt you and you defended yourself, we couldn't let you carry on anymore. Can't have you done for assault cause you battered him there sweetheart. Let's get you home." Roger nor Brian could argue against (Y/n) when she had only been defending herself which she had every right to do. She couldn't have sat there and allowed the stranger to continue and since no one had come to her aid quick enough she had done the right thing to protect herself. Even if she had gone a little far by wanting to beat him whilst he was down and rendered defenceless. She was safe from any kind of harm or assault now, and Roger needed to make sure she was alright.

[noahfence1d]

Queer people who took time coming to terms with our identities know the dance of avoiding definitive terms and labels. We know what it can look like when someone is a baby queer in waiting; we certainly understand what it’s like trying to figure out how to exist both authentically and safely in the world, calculating the risks of being your true self, and why that waiting period exists—and, for some, never really ends. This process of coming to terms and coming out, however, poses different challenges and has specific implications when you’re a celebrity. Some celebrities—especially those with teen fanbases, like Shawn Mendes or Taylor Swift—are no strangers to being pinned as queer icons because of their presentation, language, or even the friendships they have, despite not being out as queer. However, figures like Mendes or Swift are known for vehemently pushing away from any narrative defining them explicitly queer. Other celebrities, like Harry Styles, have strongly leaned into queerness—or at the very least, embraced being coded as queer.

Look up “Harry Styles queer” on Google and you’ll get a range of headlines from “We need to talk about why Harry Styles is a lesbian icon” to “Harry Style’s New Music Video is Extremely Bisexual.” Styles often dons floral suits and a more stereotypically feminine demeanor alongside lyrics like ones from his song “Medicine,” which are unmistakably bisexual: “The boys and the girls are here/ I mess around with him/ And I’m okay with it.” Recently, Styles announced a tour with artists similarly dubbed queer icons, Jenny Lewis and King Princess, a musical setup that seems like it was made in heaven for queer fans. On his new Saturday Night Live appearance, Styles played a sexually ambiguous character in the Sara Lee sketch, referencing being thirsty for men, almost locking in his “brand” of queerness yet again. In October 2019, Styles’s single “Lights Up” was also deemed a bisexual anthem by certain members of the queer community, especially as the corresponding music video shows a nearly naked Styles surrounded by people of all genders who are touching and carressing his body.

In a 2019 interview with Rolling Stone, he explained why he often dons rainbow flags on stage at his concerts and why he’s been so vocal about supporting queer people. “Everyone in that room is on the same page and everyone knows what I stand for. I’m not saying I understand how it feels. I’m just trying to say, ‘I see you.’” At this point, Styles isn’t new to curiosity surrounding his sexuality. Throughout his time with One Direction, rumors about his sexuality swirled, as he had a close relationship with bandmate Louis Tomlinson. The relationship became a hot topic, and one hugely obsessed over in fan and fanfiction communities. In a 2017 interview with The Sun, while discussing the way that celebrity sexuality is constantly questioned, he said, “It’s weird for me—everyone should just be who they want to be. It’s tough to justify somebody having to answer to someone else about stuff like that … I don’t feel like it’s something I’ve ever felt like I have to explain about myself.” At his final show for his tour in Glasgow in 2018, Styles announced onstage, “We’re all a little bit gay.”

For much of his career, it’s almost seemed like his fanbase is rooting for his queerness. One reason that online communities seem to be so obsessed with queer-adjacent celebrities like Styles is that they normalize queerness, making it feel more accessible. “If they were to come out, it would be a huge benefit to LGBTQ visibility in the media, and a lot of people in the LGBTQ community would love to have a celebrity of that stature on ‘their’ side,” Ash, a bisexual woman, told me. But Styles doesn’t actually claim queerness just because many fans, queer and otherwise, have hoped that he’ll one day do so explicitly. “Can straight people be queer?” asked a 2016 Vice article about the impact of the term’s increasingly broad application. The fact is that cis, straight people can’t be queer—so what does that mean when queer communities tout artists like Styles or Swift as part of our culture?

At some points in history, having these kinds of allies for the community who are not queer themselves, like Lil’ Kim, who has advocated for gay men and against homophobia in the rap community since the early 2000s, has been monumental. Queer audiences of yesteryears also gravitated toward performers like Dolly Parton who didn’t have to be queer themselves because they were accepting and loving toward all, and used their platform to normalize and uplift the queer communities that have celebrated them. In this day and age, however, expectations of performers have heightened. Unlike other celebrities dubbed “queer icons” who happen to be straight, including Madonna, Janet Jackson, or Parton, the fanbases of artists like Styles’s skew younger. And younger audiences don’t just want performers who see and welcome them. They want performers who are them—artists who understand the queer experience because they are queer, and they’re here to reflect audiences back to themselves.

So why the critique if there are seemingly so many positives to any representation or acceptance? It’s not that Styles, or any celebrity or public figure for that matter, owes us any information about their sexualities. On one hand, simply by existing in such a public manner, these celebrities offer a sliver of hope that there might be someone just like us navigating the world of queerness and identity. Celebrities like Styles or Swift—who has made use of queer aesthetics herself, and whose friendship with model Karlie Kloss has been the subject of rumors—remind us of who we were when we navigated our queerness more subtly before we were ready to explicitly tell someone close to us, or our resident queer community. Entertainers like Jackson or Parton became queer icons because they embraced queer fans during a closeted time, and perhaps it felt okay to have acceptance without representation. It was clear the performers weren’t trying to be queer. On the other hand, with Styles or Swift, the lines are blurred, and it’s unclear whether they’re trying to say they’re one of us or merely accept queer fans while borrowing from the culture to fit in and create a brand.

“I think it’s important for white queer folks to interrogate the whiteness of their queer idols, and work to understand why they feel more inclined to celebrate the visible queerness of one artist over another.”

There’s often a concern that celebrities are co-opting queerness as a marketing ploy. With the long history of queerbaiting (using the possibility of or undertones of queerness to gain favorability with queer people) in popular culture, there’s a certain level of disingenuousness to letting the bait and switch go on with minimal critique. The kind of support and lauding that celebrities like Styles receive for more playful expression and experimentation is not always present for queer people of color like Syd (formerly of The Internet), Alok Vaid-Menon, or Big Freedia. When she sees mostly white, thin, able-bodied figures with “queer energy” centered as icons in the queer community as opposed to queer people of color, Olivia Zayas Ryan, a queer woman, wonders why. “If you’re showing up for a pretty white boy in a tutu, where are you when Black and brown queer folks are vilified, ridiculed, and worse?” she told me. “If you are excited and feel seen when queer aesthetics are in the mainstream, what are you doing to honor, protect, and recognize the folks who created them? I think it’s important for white queer folks to interrogate the whiteness of their queer idols, and work to understand why they feel more inclined to celebrate the visible queerness of one artist over another.”

Conversation around both queerbaiting and our curiosity about celebrity queerness is an ongoing and complicated one. For example, there are theorists who have posited that Kurt Cobain was a closeted trans woman. “Many transgender women see themselves in his shaggy hair, his penchant for nail polish and dresses, and his struggles with depression,” Gillian Branstetter, a transgender advocate and writer, told me. Cobain’s fascination with pregnancy (“In Utero”) and his distaste for masculinity (“In Bloom”), as well as his partner Courtney Love’s references to having a more fluid lover (“He had ribbons in his hair/ And lipstick was everywhere/ You look good in my dress”) stoked this interest in his sexuality and presentation. “It sounds very familiar to trans women whose own relationship with masculinity and femininity was often expressed in coded ways before they came out,” says Branstetter. Styles, who like Cobain shows disinterest in conforming to a traditionally masculine rock-star presentation, seems to spark the same interest in fans from the queer community.

With our investment in Styles or other celebrities who are likely straight but exude “queer energy,” it feels as if we’re looking for a mirror of ourselves, seeking to claim the most popular public figures as our own, and in turn feel more normal and accepted. Perhaps our obsession with artists like Styles comes down to the excitement of feeling visible—but what do fans of potentially straight queer icons like Styles actually want? Can we thread the needle between feeling seen and normalized in our queerness while also feeling the imbalance between Styles’s privilege and the most marginalized people in the queer community’s lived experiences? Ultimately, it’s queer fans who get to decide if Styles’s kind of allyship and solidarity with the queer community is enough, or if it’s begun to give off the all-too-familiar stink of disingenuous baiting.

[mycandylavynder]

V-Day with Cas

“Well, speak of the devil,” Priya says as the beautiful blonde saunters into the room. Everyone in the room turns their heads to admire Amber who is draped in a teal tulle maxi dress that fits her like a glove. Her golden locks are kissing her bare shoulders and a thick gold choker that v-shaped down into her generous cleavage wrapped around her neck.

She gracefully approaches us without a care in the world. “What are you guys doing down here?” She asks, placing an air kiss on Priya’s cheek. It’s still so weird to think that only a few years ago Priya made Amber shiver in her presence.

“Just hanging out,” Priya responds.

“Why? Should we be somewhere else?” Alexy quickly follows up.

“Of course. I assumed you all would be upstairs. Castiel’s band is about to play.”

“I thought upstairs was VIP.” I chime.

She swats her hand, “It is, but don’t worry about it. Follow me and I’ll get you in. Besides, it's MUCH better upstairs.”

We all look at each other and shrug at the fortunate turn of events. We trail behind Amber’s flurry of teal tulle. My stomach is beginning to tighten with each step we take toward the staircase.

Amber smiles at the bouncer as we approach him. "They're with me," she says swirling her polished finger in a circular motion.

The bouncer nods and opens the black rope for us. "So do you know the person throwing the party?" Alexy asks as we begin our grand ascent up the staircase.

"Natalia? Oh yes, she's wonderful. Let's hurry though, Crowstorm is about to go on and I don't want to miss my favorite song."

Everyone picks up their pace as I squeeze and twist the straps of my purse. Something is chewing holes into my stomach and I take a few deep breaths to brace myself.

"Hey, are you alright?" Chani whispers to me as we reach the landing.

"I'm fine. Why?" I say too quickly.

"Just making sure since you are practically strangling your purse."

I giggle as I loosen my iron grip on my purse. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just a little... excited."

Chani nods as we follow behind the rest of the ogling group. The upstairs has a completely different feel than downstairs. The mood lighting and smells coordinating with each room, the art installation of live models wearing high-end fashion, the suited waiters carrying fine wines and elaborate chocolates, the security, the expensive looking people...it all screams exclusivity. It is wild to think that Castiel is playing at something so...upper crust.

"Come. They're in the red room." Amber says leading the way. I snatch a glass of champagne from a waiter as we pass by and scarf it down.

We pass through drawn velvet curtains to enter into a room with red lighting. Rose petals litter the floor and beautifully burgundy dressed tables with scented lit candles sparkling around us. The room is filled with people lounging about but not stuffy and crowded like downstairs.

A tall brunette with a long bouncy ponytail waves Amber down when she sees her.

"Ambe! There you are!"

"Hey Natalia, I hope you don't mind I brought some friends."

"Of course not.” She says as she gives us a polite wave. Amber and Natalia break into a conversation and so does the rest of our small entourage. I don’t really hear what anyone is saying as the only thing I seem to be able to focus on is the aching in my stomach.

A single chord breaks through the chattering crowd and everyone falls silent as his raspy voice begins to fill the air. The velvet curtains part ways to reveal Castiel and his crew as the tempo dramatically picks up. The crowd hoots and begins to sway and wiggle under his musical spell. I look at our small group. A smile creeps onto my face as I watch them all break into dance, carefree and a little buzzed. I squeeze in with Chani and Priya and let myself go.

The knots in my stomach are slowly untying as I feel the music vibrate through my body, becoming one with my cells. Every note he hits and every cord he strums, I am pushed over the edge by his electric sound - and so is the crowd. The crowd is twisting, turning, screaming along to each word that falls from his lips. His red locks fall in his face and he flips his hair back in the smoothest way. His brooding grey eyes fervidly scans through the mass of bodies. Almost every girl in the room is giving him bedroom eyes, not to mention several guys. It’s clear he knows he has the room eating out of his palm as a smug, yet frustratingly sexy, look settles upon his face.

My stomach knots up again as I briefly catch his eyes. His guitar leads into the next song, as the drums pound away. It’s truly wild to think I gave him my V-card.

The music plays on, wooing the crowd as the band slips from song to song. I try not to lose my mind to the butterflies in my stomach. I slip down a few glasses of champagne as a waiter saunters by before carrying on with the shenanigans. Towards the end of the set, Cas adjusts the position of his guitar. He takes the mic off the stand as a lazy grin plays on his lips. “So, as many of you know, our generous host Natalia is engaged to our bastard of a manager. ” he pauses and gestures his free hand toward the tall brunette as the crowd laughs and cheers. “And seeing as I gotta keep my manager somewhat happy, he requested we play this song for you, Natalia.”

I watch Natalia spring happily toward the front of the stage while a man in his mid-thirties and fancy threads sneak from the curtains. He is holding a large bouquet of flowers, making the audience gasp and clap. Cas looks at the band and nods before adjusting the mic.

His voice is sexier than ever as he coos the first line to the song, “You’re just too good to be true, Can’t take my eyes off of you…”

His eyes meet mine as he sings, “You’d be like heaven to touch, I wanna hold you so much.” My cheeks are getting hot and I hate it. Last time I saw him I yelled at him for treating me like a 15-year-old at his concert and here I am blushing like a 15-year-old at his concert. I shake my head and try to zone out. After all, he is a musician working for the crowd, he was bound to make eye contact with me sooner or later. It doesn’t mean anything at all.

As if Castiel’s glistening tattooed arms aren’t enough of a distraction, the host and the manager are all over each other. I take another drink from a tray, willfully giving myself over to the drunken territory. I manage to get through the rest of the song by looking everywhere but the stage.

“Alright, alright, enough with the mushy shit. I’m sure many of you on this lovely Valentine’s Day might be feeling a little left out after that display. But don’t worry, if you’re feeling heartbroken or like this Valentine’s Day can just go to hell...well this next one’s for you!” Castiel says as the audience whoops back.

My heart falls into the pit of my stomach when I hear the beginning chords. “No…I-I can’t,” I whisper to the pulsating music.

“You remind me of summertime on this cold winter day,” echos behind me as I push my way out the room in a sloppy sprint.

Air. I need air. I stumble toward the end of the hall where two large glass doors overlook a balcony. I slip out the door into the cool night air. Closing my eyes, I rest my arms on the railing and lean forward. My head is dizzy. I feel like I’m stuck on a merry-go-round, but the crappy kind at the playground where you sit in the middle and some overgrown child flings the thing around and around. And I am going so fast that all the colors in the world bleed together into one muddy mess and I’m gripping the bars so tight ‘cause if I let go I’m going to fly into some colorless abyss.

What the hell am I talking about? Get a grip.

I see a bench in the corner and slump down in it. My face feels hot and my eyes are watery but I’m not quite drunk enough to cry. I close my eyes again, letting the chilly night nip my skin as my brain sways back and forth.

“There you are! What the hell are you doing out here? Are you trying to catch a cold?”

I groan, not bothering to open my eyes. I hear him sit down next to me and scoff, “Are you drunk?”

I don’t say anything. I just take in the heat radiating off of his body. He takes off his black leather jacket and drapes it over my shoulders. We sit in silence for several long seconds, listening to the muffled sounds of the party sneaking outside. “Well, I guess I’ll go tell the others where you’re at.”

“Please... I really want you to stay.” I whisper, gently grabbing his thigh.

I hear him sigh and settle back into the seat.

A few quiet moments slip between us before he speaks, “So...did you not like the show?”

“W-what?” I open my eyes and sit up, sensing an argument on the horizon.

“I saw you run out.”

I sigh, feeling hot and trapped. “Yeah...that isn’t it. The show was amazing. You were amazing.”

“Then why’d you leave?”

“I-I don’t know.” My head is still spinning. I can’t bring myself to look at his face although I feel his eyes on me. It’s then that I realize my hand is still on his thigh. I politely remove it.

He seems to notice but doesn’t address it. He just says, “Well, tell me something? What’s going on with you? Last time I saw you, you about ripped my head off.”

“Yeah, well, you deserved it.”

“Hmm, yeah...I did. But you definitely didn’t have to yell at me like that. You know that if you just talk to me I’ll listen.”

I shake my head, trying hard to keep my watery eyes from spilling. “I-I can’t say that that’s true, Castiel. There is so much that we can’t talk about without you getting pissed at me and quite honestly it’s killing me.” My voice wavers as I speak and I can’t stop myself from crying. I huff, dragging the palms of hands beneath my eyes. Great, now my makeup is ruined.

His fingertips tickle my face as he gently brushes a piece of my hair behind my ear. “Let’s talk about it then.” His voice is even and cool.

I look at him. Searching his calm grey eyes I find assurance. “I ran out tonight because it still hurts. It still really sucks when I think about our break up. And I thought that after four years, it wouldn’t still hurt this bad. You look amazing on stage. You always have. But the first time I saw you at the Snake Room... I couldn’t help but feel angry that it had been four years. That I had played my part in letting all of this time pass between us and that I didn’t find a better answer to our relationship.

“And I hate that I can’t say that to you. That I am really, really, really fucking sorry things played out the way they did. That I hate it, that I’ve always hated it. It always fucking sucked to think about.

“And tonight, you’re so annoying. You looked so unfairly sexy. Everyone was eating out of your hand, including me. And then that fucking song, it was hard enough to listen to it on my own… I couldn’t bear to watch you perform it in person.”

He is quiet as his eyes wander off of my face. But then he smirks and says, “To be fair, you are also unfairly sexy tonight.”

I roll my eyes and smile in spite of myself.

“But seriously, Candy, I’m sorry too. I know I’ve been tough on you. But seeing you again...it’s been hard for me too. Breaking up with you sucked. I really really liked you a lot. And I still do. And I hope we can resolve whatever it is holding us back because I want to know who you are now.

“Every time we are together, I see things that are new about you and I want to know more. But don’t worry, sometimes you reassure me that some of your quirks are still the same. Like how you still try to fix everyone's problems.”

I nudge his arm and he chuckles. I can’t stop myself from giggling too. I feel like I finally jumped from the merry-go-round and safely landed on the ground. I rest my head on his shoulder and he casually throws his arm around me. I close my eyes again and take a deep breath. I say, “I still like you too.” And I know he knows what I truly mean because I know what he meant too.

He lazily runs his fingers through my hair as I fill my lungs with his after-show sweat and cologne.

After a while, he gently lifts my chin. My spine tingles with goosebumps as he gently presses his warm lips tenderly against mine. He quickly pulls away though, biting his bottom lip. “Let’s head inside so that your friends know you haven’t been eaten alive. If we stay out here alone any longer, I might just eat you myself, little girl.”

His breath tickles my ear as he says the last part. My knees feel a little weak at the thought. “Don’t ask for trouble with me, Cas. I’m in the mood to give you hell.”

He flashes the cheekiest smile and grabs my hand to pull me up with him. “Come on then. As sexy as that would be, my conscience won’t let you raise hell out here in the open.”

My stomach is in knots again, but this time it is less anxious. I let him lead me back inside where we rejoin the others. But I still hope he leads us back to where we can end this night alone...

[chamibii]

**I’m currently in the beginning stages of a pretty lengthy BakuDeku thread on Twitter. And I’ve created an OC that I really love and that has helped my baby Izuku to know that he has to face his fears. Below is the off-shoot of my Quirkless Journalist Izuku thread. If you want to read the thread, find me on Twitter! For now, enjoy Santi and Izuku in “Where the road leads”**

Izuku was lost. He stood in the small city with his phone in hand, looking at the screen with his brows pulled together in confusion. GPS was telling him to turn left, but left would have put him smack dab in the middle of someone’s home and he needed to be near the outskirts of the city. He exited the navigation app, shut it down, and reopened it.

He checked his watch and realized that if he did not figure it out quickly, he was going to be late and he wanted nothing more than to make a good first impression for the kind people that were opening up about their very private life.

He typed in the coordinates and, “Please turn left, then you will have arrived at your destination”.

“Goddamnit!” He groaned loudly as he fought against the urge to throw his cell phone.

Exit app. Restart app. Put in coordinates. “Please turn left, then you will have arrived at your destination.”

Fuck. His hand closed tightly around his phone and he pulls in a shaky frustrated breath.

“I can help get you there.” The voice was deep and melodious. Though he spoke English well, Izuku was able to discern the faint accent. A local.

He turned and found himself face to face with a gorgeous man. He felt his cheeks heat and knew his blush was bright enough to pull his freckles out to center stage.

The man chuckled as he extended a hand, “My name is Santiago, but my friends call me Santi.”

Izuku shook Santiago’s hand. “Midoriya Izuku. Please call me Midoriya. You mentioned being able to help me?”

Santi’s smile was dazzling and elicited a small smile from Izuku. “Yeah. My quirk allows for me to be pretty useful most days.” He rolled up his sleeves and starting from his fingers, his arms was covered in lines, notches, markings, and constellations that reminded Izuku of a map. Izuku couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and running a finger across the lines.

He expected the skin to be raised, but the skin was smooth. “Wow,” he breathed out. “Your skin, your quirk, it’s gorgeous.” Santi cleared his throat and nervously mumbled thanks. “How does your quirk work Santiago?” Izuku pulled out his pad and snatched one of the pens from behind his ear. He chewed on the cap as he listened to Santiago explain his quirk.

“If I am lost, or anyone else for that matter, and they give me the coordinates to their location, the route illuminated on my body and I’m able to act as a map. Or a tour guide.”

“Fascinating.” Izuku scribbled quick notes on his pad and placed it back in his satchel. “Do you think you can help get me here?” He gave Santi the slip of paper and watched as the black lines and markings on his olive brown skin, shone a bright gold.

Santi smiled and held his arms up. “Follow me Midoriya.”

They walked along side by side quietly for the first few minutes. Every so often, Izuku would find himself staring up at the man leading him to his destination.

His hair was a soft gold that stood out brightly against the brown of his skin. His eyes shone just as brightly as his hair and whenever he spoke, flashes of deep dimples nestled in his cheeks would appear. He was taller than Izuku and solid.

He smiled down at Izuku and Izuku shyly returned the smile. “Y’know, I would say it was fate that led me to you, but as soon as I heard you, my skin illuminated and led me right to you.”

Izuku gasped, “Really?” He was reaching for his pen again to add notes regarding the quirk when he hears Santi laugh loudly.

“Dios mio, you’re lucky you’re so cute Midoriya. I was hitting on you, albeit very poorly.”

Izuku’s eyes widened. “Oh, my god. I’m.. wait, you are?”

Santiago laughed and raised his arms, showing Izuku that they were no longer illuminated. “We’re here. I can, uh maybe stay and translate for you?” Santi shuffled his foot back and forth against the sidewalk.

“But you heard me speak flawless Spa—oh..” He’s wanting to spend time with me, Izuku thought. “I would really like that Santiago.” Izuku smiles up at the beautiful lion of a man.

“I’m hoping by the end of today, you will see yourself as my friend and call me Santi.” A light red hue dusted across his cheek bones.

“I hope so too Santiago.” Izuku knocked on the door and waited for the family to answer.

***

After having spent all day with the family and interviewing the young girl, Izuku was tired and hungry. Having Santiago there immediately put the family at ease and Izuku was grateful for his presence.

He had convinced Santiago to allow him to repay him for the kindness by treating him to dinner. Thankfully, Santiago agreed.

They sat at a table in one of the restaurants at Izuku’s hotel. Izuku struggled to catch his breath as Santiago was recounting an excursion gone wrong.

“So, by the time these guys realize that I’m literally a walking map, we’re holed up in some cave, with these idiots holding up their phone trying to finds signal to get an answer for how to scare off ‘a large jungle cat’”

Izuku swiped away the tears that gathered in the corner of his eyes. “You’re kidding!” He snorted and immediately clapped a hand over his mouth.

Santiago fell silent. Izuku opened his mouth to apologize, but noticed his shoulders shaking from silent laughter. Izuku snorted again and they both dissolved into a fit of laughter.

It was probably the wine or delicious paella, but Izuku was extremely comfortable and at ease around this man.

Laughter slowed and Izuku averted his eyes from the soft golden gaze. “Th-Thank you for coming with me today. Having you there really made the family comfortable.”

Santiago swallowed the remaining sip of red wine and smiled softly. “It was my pleasure Midoriya.”

Izuku felt hot and was hit with the sudden urge for fresh air. He motioned for the waiter, paid the check, and left hurriedly from the restaurant to stand outside of the hotel. He leaned against the cool stone of the building and ran his hands through his hair, tucking a curl behind his ear. Santiago probably thought he ditched him and as he turned around to go back into the hotel, he was surrounded by gold.

His green eyes held the soft golden gaze and the space between them diminished as Santiago pressed wine stained lips against his. Strong arms wrapped around Izuku’s waist as he was pulled flush against the man.

The only thought in Izuku’s mind: this is what Icarus must have felt as he chased the sun.

[eddycurrents]

For the week of 7 January 2019

Quick Bits:

Aliens: Dust to Dust #4 concludes this series from Gabriel Hardman, Rain Beredo, and Michael Heisler. It’s been very good, capturing the feel and atmosphere of the first two Alien films and delivering a very taut horror-thriller. Absolutely gorgeous artwork from Hardman and Beredo.

| Published by Dark Horse

Atomic Robo: Dawn of a New Era #1 isn’t a bad jumping on point. It doesn’t really get you up to speed on the past of the series, but you also don’t really need to have read any of it to enjoy this story. Great humour and interesting tidbits of science and history as usual from Brian Clevinger, Scott Wegener, Shannon Murphy, and Jeff Powell.

| Published by IDW

Avengers #12 works to build up Black Panther’s “Agents of Wakanda” to serve as a support network for information and grunt work throughout the world to feed the Avengers team proper. It’s an interesting use of otherwise lesser-used characters from Jason Aaron and definitely broadens the scope of the overall series.

| Published by Marvel

Barbarella/Dejah Thoris #1 is a very good beginning to this series from Leah Williams, Germán García, Addison Duke, and Crank!. Williams captures the tone and feel of both characters very well through their dialogue and the artwork from García and Duke is impressive.

| Published by Dynamite

Batman #62 is the second part of “Knightmares”, which near as I can tell is going to be a series of one-off stories by an array of brilliant artists with Batman as filtered through some strange psycho-thriller lens (or at least the first two parts adhere to that ethos). It’s good, but it’s weird. Great art from Mitch Gerads as Tom King keeps us off balance and at arms length with the narrative confusion.

| Published by DC Comics

Birthright #35 concludes this arc with an epic battle between Brennan and Mikey, as Brennan confronts his family, cutting deep into the resentment that Brennan has felt for his brother. The art from Andrei Bressan and Adriano Lucas is amazing.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Bitter Root #3 continues to be thoroughly excellent in every conceivable way, presenting a compelling mystery in the origins of the Jinoo, an interesting family drama delving into more of the history and interpersonal foibles of the Sangerye family, and it’s just an entertaining supernatural schlockfest on top of all of that. David F. Walker, Chuck Brown, Sanford Greene, Rico Renzi, and Clayton Cowles are delivering one hell of a story here. Oh, and the art from Greene and Renzi is stunning.

| Published by Image

The Black Order #3 shifts to the perspective of Black Dwarf here, and like the first issue, plays off a narrative that is contrary to what you’d expect. Where Glaive thought himself a comedian, Black Dwarf is more contemplative, wondering if his thoughts and desires are who he is, or if he’s merely the brute that others see. It’s interesting, even as it continues the ongoing plot of trying to destroy the Sinnarian Empire.

| Published by Marvel

By Night #7 takes an interesting turn as Heather’s father and uncle take a moment to act as exterminators and she and Jane try to rescue Barney from a mob boss. Love the humour as always from John Allison’s script, especially as he adds some unexpected elements. Very nice design and presentation of the bug from Eidolon by Christine Larsen and Sarah Stern.

| Published Boom Entertainment / BOOM! Box

Captain Marvel #1 is a fun relaunch, perfectly mixing humour, action, and interpersonal drama as Kelly Thompson, Carmen Carnero, Tamra Bonvillain, and Clayton Cowles bring Carol back to New York. Beautiful colours throughout from Bonvillain, really making Carnero’s line art shine.

| Published by Marvel

Criminal #1 is a very welcome return to the Lawless family, as Ed Brubaker, Sean Phillips, and Jacob Phillips weave a tale of Ricky stealing an old thief’s necklace trying to bail Teeg out of jail, only to wind up in even more hot water than he began in. You don’t need to have read any of the previous volumes of Criminal before, but I still highly recommend that you do since they’re awesome.

| Published by Image

The Curse of Brimstone #10 gives us some more answers as Annie confronts Wandering Jack to get information on the Salesman and to figure out a way to possibly save her brother. This is still a weird series, but Justin Jordan, Eduardo Pansica, Júlio Ferreira, Rain Beredo, and Wes Abbott have definitely been making it interesting.

| Published by DC Comics

Deathstroke #39 gears us up for the conclusion next issue by positing that from Slade’s point of view what he’s claimed happened actually did happen, as the disparate threads converge. It’s interesting as to how Priest has been staging this story.

| Published by DC Comics

Die #2 is brilliant. As good as the first issue was, and it was really damn good, this one is even better as we get the exposed to some of the rules of this fantasy world and thrown headlong into the seamless world building of this realm. Kieron Gillen, Stephanie Hans, and Clayton Cowles have something truly magical here, taking a childhood love of science fiction and fantasy, and subverting it into something that can hurt us like weaponized nostalgia. It is absolutely stunning.

| Published by Image

Faith: Dreamside #4 is a very strong conclusion to this mini from Jody Houser, MJ Kim, Jordie Bellaire, and Dave Sharpe. The entire series has looked good, but Kim and Bellaire really take it to another level with this finale, the confrontation of Belu is just incredible.

| Published by Valiant

The Freeze #2 is probably better than the first issue and it was an incredibly debut, from Dan Wickline, Phillip Sevy, and Troy Peteri. I absolutely love that the focus isn’t on the freeze itself or what caused it, and is instead about the people living in the world and the problems that this kind of apocalypse could cause. It’s smart and leads to some very compelling character drama and complications.

| Published by Image / Top Cow

Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man #1 is amazing. Spectacular even. This is a very heartfelt and humorous debut from Tom Taylor, Juann Cabal, Nolan Woodard, and Travis Lanham that takes Spider-Man down to the local level, spotlighting his, well, neighbourhood. There’s also a back-up from Taylor, Marcelo Ferreira, Roberto Poggi, Jim Campbell, and Lanham that could well be a game-changer.

| Published by Marvel

The Green Lantern #3 continues to be one hell of trip from Grant Morrison, Liam Sharp, Steve Oliff, and Tom Orzechowski. It still feels like something out of a different time, but that’s part of what really makes this work.

| Published by DC Comics

Gunning for Hits #1 is a pretty dense beginning to what’s apparently a crime drama mixed with the music industry, not at all like Empire because I know that’s probably what many would think. It’s seedier, grittier, down at the street level, but as I say, this is dense. This first issue has a lot of narration, a lot of dialogue, and a great number of pages that more or less outline how signing deals work in a how-to format. It’s unique, blending some of the hallmarks of something like an autobio comic with a more standard narrative approach. I’m definitely looking forward to seeing what Jeff Rougvie, Moritat, and Casey Silver do for a second number.

| Published by Image

Hit-Girl #12 is the bloody conclusion to Rafael Scavone, Rafael Albuquerque, Marcel Maiolo, and Clem Robins’ “Rome” arc with Mindy and Paola confronting the corrupt convent. Absolutely beautiful artwork from Albuquerque and Maiolo, with even time for one last twist in the tale.

| Published by Image

House Amok #4 features some very impressive artwork from Shawn McManus and Lee Loughridge as the story takes and interesting path as it heads towards the conclusion. Christopher Sebela has been giving us an interesting look at this world through Dylan as the scales fell from her eyes, but this one makes us wonder, what if the family isn’t really crazy.

| Published by IDW / Black Crown

Justice League #15 heats things up on Hawkworld with a very interesting revelation about Shayera and Thanagar Prime, along with a deeper mystery about the multiverse. It really makes me wonder what James Tynion IV and Scott Snyder are getting at. Gorgeous art throughout from Jim Cheung, Stephen Segovia, Mark Morales, Tomeu Morey, and Wil Quintana.

| Published by DC Comics

The Last Siege #8 is the brutal conclusion to this series that has been a practical masterclass in storytelling, from character development through pacing, atmosphere and execution. This series has just been incredible. Landry Q. Walker, Justin Greenwood, Brad Simpson, and Patrick Brosseau stick the landing with one hell of a finale.

| Published by Image

Man Without Fear #2 continues to tear Matt Murdock apart as he finds ways not to deal very well with being hit by a truck. And gives in to fear. Great art from Stefano Landini and Andres Mossa as Matt’s nightmares come to life.

| Published by Marvel

Martian Manhunter #2 continues to be a bit of a slow burn, parcelling out a bit about the in-story present and then delving into more about J’onn’s past on Mars, building up Martian culture and what they were taking from Earth even in our ancient past. The art from Riley Rossmo and Ivan Plascencia is amazing.

| Published by DC Comics

Miles Morales: Spider-Man #2 is another great issue as Miles and the Rhino team-up to track down the missing kids. Saladin Ahmed does an amazing job of humanizing Rhino and making us empathize with his plight. The art from Javier Garrón and David Curiel is again very impressive. 

| Published by Marvel

Moth & Whisper #5 concludes this series from Ted Anderson, Jen Hickman, and Marshall Dillon. While it does bring the story to a satisfying resolution, it still leaves open the door for more to come, which I’d love to see.

| Published by AfterShock

Murder Falcon #4 delivers some pretty big revelations as the reunited Brooticus faces off against Magnum Khaos. It goes about as well as you’d expect. Daniel Warren Johnson, Mike Spicer, and Rus Wooton are really nailing the heartfelt character beats in amongst the over-the-top monster battles.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Oblivion Song #11 deals with the fallout of Ed’s transference of another piece of Philly over to Oblivion. Gorgeous artwork as always from Lorenzo De Felici and Annalisa Leoni, particularly during the creature battles.

| Published by Image / Skybound

Outer Darkness #3 continues to show us how this universe works as the crew try to salvage a derelict vessel on a supposedly barren rock. This mix of horror and science fiction is wonderful and John Layman, Afu Chan, and Pat Brosseau are really creating something unique here.

| Published by Image / Skybound

The Punisher #6 begins the next leg of Frank’s ongoing nightmares with the first part of “War in Bagalia” from Matthew Rosenberg, Szymon Kudranski, Antonio Fabela, and Cory Petit. I’ve really been enjoying what Rosenberg has been doing since the “War Machine” arc and it just seems to be getting better. There’s some really intriguing things about a nation run by Baron Zemo here.

| Published by Marvel

Red Sonja #25 ends this volume with another one-off tale with Red Sonja ferrying a musician to a ship on the coast from Amy Chu, Erik Burnham, Carlos Gomez, Mohan, and Taylor Esposito. It’s a curious story of longing for home that allows for a little bit of reflection on the series, but it doesn’t ruminate on it long. 

| Published by Dynamite

Self/Made #2 doesn’t have the luxury of the twist of the first issue, so has to work harder to get past that “I see dead people” Sixth Sense moment, and, really, it does. This is just a damned good story, playing with sci-fi and fantasy elements, blended seamlessly due to it all being a representation of game development. Mat Groom, Eduardo Ferigato, Marcelo Costa, and Troy Peteri are doing some great work here.  

| Published by Image

Sleepless #11 brings all of the plots and machinations to an end as Sarah Vaughn, Leila Del Duca, Alissa Sallah, Gabe Fischer, and Deron Bennett bring the series to an end. Some very interesting bits of tradition, change, and resentment towards monarchy.

| Published by Image

Spider-Gwen: Ghost Spider #4 is an epilogue to the “Spider-Geddon” event, paying tribute and burying the fallen. It’s a very haunting story, making you wonder if Gwen’s going to take a darker turn in the future. Seanan McGuire, Rosi Kämpe, Takeshi Miyazawa, Ian Herring, and Clayton Cowles do a wonderful saying goodbye to various parts of the Spider-Verse.

| Published by Marvel

Star Wars: Age of Republic - Jango Fett #1 is this week’s one-shot exploring various characters around the Star Wars canon. Jody Houser, Luke Ross, Java Tartaglia, and Travis Lanham give us a decent story of betrayal and consequences with Jango and Boba Fett.

| Published by Marvel

Star Wars Adventures: Destroyer Down #3 concludes this mini from Scott Beatty, Derek Charm, Jon Sommariva, Sean Parsons, Matt Herms, and Tom B. Long. It’s been interesting to see the two time periods of the stories play against one other with events in the past informing those in the present.

| Published by IDW

Thor #9 is somewhat of a companion piece to this week’s Avengers #12, setting up Roz Solomon as another Agent of Wakanda, but you don’t need to read both of them to enjoy them individually. This one delivers a lot of information on what’s going on in regards to the build up of the “War of the Realms” in addition to giving Roz a new purpose and changed outlook. Gorgeous artwork from Mike del Mundo.

| Published by Marvel

Turok #1 is an entertaining reimagining of the series from Ron Marz, Roberto Castro, Salvatore Aiala, and Troy Peteri, somewhat in line with the original Valiant interpretation, albeit moving it forward to the late 1800′s. Quite like the art from Castro and Aiala. Castro’s art reminds me a bit of a cross between Joe Kubert, Bart Sears, and Jordi Bernet.

| Published by Dynamite

United States vs. Murder Inc. #5 paints a very bleak picture for the next stage in the US government’s war against the crime families following the assassination of the President. Wonderful work on tone and atmosphere from Brian Michael Bendis, Michael Avon Oeming, Taki Soma, and Carlos M. Mangual. 

| Published by DC Comics / Jinxworld

Web of Venom: Venom Unleashed #1 is a pair of tales spotlighting the new dog-form of the symbiote as he chases down people infected by Carnage, then Cletus’ perspective on it, from Ryan Stegman, Kyle Hotz, Juan Gedeon, Marc Deering, Scott Hanna, Livesay, Roberto Poggi, Victor Olazaba, Dan Brown, Matt Yackey, Andrew Crossley, Carlos Cabrera, and Clayton Cowles. Really nice to see Hotz’s art here.

| Published by Marvel

William Gibson’s Alien 3 #3 has the crap hit the proverbial fan as meddling with the xenomorphs begins to bear its deadly fruit. Johnnie Christmas, Tamra Bonvillain, and Nate Piekos are doing such an amazing job at adapting this for comics, it makes me kind of sad that it wasn’t the direction the films took.

| Published by Dark Horse

Wizard Beach #2 continues the fun of the first issue, with Hex trying to get off the beach, build himself a castle, and hunt down tasty, delicious rats for lunch to no avail. Nice bits of humour and the introduction of a girl who Hex might well be smitten with, as well as a darker mystery involving her grandfather’s wand. Great art from Conor Nolan, Chad Lewis, and Meg Casey.

| Published by BOOM! Studios

The Wrong Earth #5 has both of the dimension-displaced Dragonflies(flymen) continue to attempt to get back to their respective homes. Also, through flashbacks and monologues, I kind of get the impression that Tom Peyer is trying to tell us that both of them are thoroughly insane. There’s also the usual back-up comic and prose text pieces to round out the issue.

| Published by Ahoy

Young Justice #1 is the launch vehicle of the new Brian Michael Bendis-driven Wonder Comics line. If you look at it from a perspective of DC’s continuity, it’s probably very confusing. Many of the characters seem to be in their pre-New 52, even potentially pre-Infinite Crisis forms, Gemworld is attacking, Amethyst seems particularly bloodthirsty, and we’ve got a couple of inexplicable legacy characters in Jinny Hex and Teen Lantern, but...I think that confusion, that chaos and frenetic energy, is part of the point, since at the onset, the invaders from Gemworld are aware of the shifts in the multiverse. So maybe give it a chance to develop from there are clue us in on what’s ultimately going on? Regardless, there’s gorgeous action, interesting layouts, and fascinating design work from Patrick Gleason and Alejandro Sanchez.

| Published by DC Comics / Wonder Comics

Other Highlights: Auntie Agatha’s Home for Wayward Rabbits #3, Black Dahlia, Blackbird #4, Cemetery Beach #5, Curse Words #19, The Dreaming #5, DuckTales #16, Euthanauts #5, Go Go Power Rangers #16, God of War #3, Hack/Slash vs. Chaos! #2, Joe Golem: The Drowning City #5, Kick-Ass #11, LaGuardia #2, The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen: The Tempest #4, Patience! Conviction! Revenge! #5, Predator: Hunters II #4, Prodigy #2, Rose #16, Star Wars #59, Unbeatable Squirrel Girl #40, Vampirella/Dejah Thoris #4

Recommended Collections: Dread Gods, Eclipse - Volume 3, Lucy Dreaming, Modern Fantasy, Star Wars: Doctor Aphra - Volume 4: Catastrophe Con, Tomb Raider - Volume 4: Inferno

Housekeeping: You can check out my review of the hardcover of Rick Geary’s Black Dahlia here. 

Also, every Monday, I’ve been providing a selection for my comic of the week for Batman’s Bookcase. The latest was a look at Jason Aaron, Mahmud Asrar, Matthew Wilson, and Travis Lanham’s excellent Conan the Barbarian #1. Read it here.

d. emerson eddy is too hot to handle, too cold to hold, he’s not a Ghostbuster, and he’s not in control. Please somebody put him back into his cage and into some kind of climate controlled environment.