#like what you like and avoid what you dont

[bluejelly8]

I first tried to come out as asexual when I was 13. At 13 I knew that I had no interest in sex the way a lot of my peers seemed to be at that age. I believed, at the time, that I was pan-romantic and I felt really good about those labels. They felt right. My parents' immediate response was laughter. "What? Are you a plant?" Was the first and only thing she said on the topic of my sexuality. Ever since, she has boasted being supportive and not caring about other people's sexuality whilst ridiculing her own daughter's to her face.

When I was in 14, my color guard group was going around the circle, introducing ourselves and a few girls shared their pronouns/sexuality. I felt safe. I felt welcome. I told them I identified as panromantic asexual. The looks they gave me. The abject horror on their faces. I explained what that meant, that i was romantically attracted to all genders, but sexually attracted to none. Their faces didn't change. We moved on.

When I was 16 I started telling friends I was bisexual. Not because I strongly felt like I was, but because it was more palatable, more understandable than asexuality of any kind. I avoided queer spaces. I still do. I own 1 enamel pin of the aroace flag disguised enough to be passed off as something inoculous. I own a jellyfish plushie in the asexual flag colors, a gift from an old friend.

When I was 19/20 my best friend introduced me to the idea of aromanticism. Away from my hometown, with the help and support of one incredible friend, I began to reidentify as asexual. Because I was never bisexual. With the support of that same friend, I was introduced to the concept of aromanticism, and something just clicked. It was an option I had never considered before. And it made sense, it explained so much. Not everything, but a lot. Im 22, almost 23 now, and I'm still figuring out where I stand on sex and that's okay!!

I became sort of friends with a new coworker when I was 21. We broached the topic of queerness to me, and I felt comfortable enough to share my sexuality with him. It's not something I am shy about discussing with people, close friends, or not(more often than not, it saves me the hassle of being asked out). He asked me if I was just 'intellectualizing my feelings towards other people'. I told him I no, and I never discussed my sexuality with him again.

Within this last year, another coworker asked me out. I apologized(a mistake) and explained that I was aroace(in laymans terms) and that I thought he was a great guy, but I just don't work like that. We barely spoke for a year. It was awkward, but he was my friends older brother, and I thought we could be friends. He took the rejection well and never brought it up again. As soon as I felt comfortable enough around him to talk to him outside of work, he slapped me in the face with bigotry. Chappel Roan was playing on the speaker and my friend(his sister, a proud lesbian), and I intended to keep that going while we worked, and he complained about her music. That's fine, its not for everyone, but he kept whining about it. So, I asked him what was wrong with it. What about it did he not like? I was curious. He said "Well, I'm not a lesbian, so I dont get it."

I replied with "Okay...? I'm not either."

And he looked at me. He looked me dead in the face with suspicion. As though he didn't believe me when I said that. I reiterated that I was not and am not a lesbian.

"But you would be. If you weren't what you are, you would be."

He walked away before I could proccess what the fuck that meant. I was an anxious mess for the rest of my shift. I called my friend in tears on my way home. I panicked about working with him the next week(at the time we were the only 2 people working in the basement of where I work), I didn't feel safe around him anymore. I had to go to my boss and explain the situation in full because(after his sister grilled him on how fucked up of a thing that was to say to someone is and how she warned him that something like this would happen) all he had said was 'I understand if Jelly doesnt want to work with me anymore and I have to move upstairs'.

The conversation went well, but I was a shaking, sobbing mess, and I could barely string together two sentences. I had written down everything I wanted to say for my boss to read in case I physically couldn't explain it. And my boss was great about it. I didn't work with him for a year and I am never scheduled alone with him. We barely speak beyond work related topics.

The point of all this rambling and explanation is that aphobia and every type of bigotry occurs in big and small ways every day. It happens from within and without the queer community in equal measure. Asexuality might be invisible to a lot of people, but so is aphobia. Just because you don't see it doesn't mean it's not happening. Just because we 'arent hurting anyone' doesn't mean people aren't hurting us. Sorry if this is an unwelcome addition, OP.

tbh I really dislike how aphobia tends to be discussed whenever there's some kind of incident that makes it visible to general society. The most common response seems to be some variation of "why would anyone hate asexual/aromantic people, they aren't even doing anything" and it just always sits wrong with me. It paints such a passive picture of our existence and feels like a comment influenced by the level of invisibility that aspec people have in society. Why would you be annoyed by someone who is practically invisible? Just go back to ignoring their existence, it's easy!

But despite the invisibility, aspec people are actually doing quite a lot of things that will piss off queerphobic, right-wing and religious people (and hell, even left-wing people). And the most obvious point is that we are actively not performing heterosexuality the way they want us to. People who's entire world view is "cis men and women should be in monogamous, heterosexual marriage and have (white) babies" are not going to lean back and say "oh but those asexuals and aromantics are fine". They will also hate our guts, and they will come up with all sorts of reasons, including insinuating we're all secretly into bestiality, or mentally ill, or not human, or attention seeking children. It's just plain old queerphobia, and like all queerphobia, there's no inherent logic to it which you can worm your way out of by "not doing anything".

And like, there's a lot more that aspec people do which people hate. Raising awareness about amatonormativity? People feel attacked, they hate it. Asexual people having sex? Or not having sex? People hate it! Aromantic people being in (seemingly) romantic relationships? People fucking hate it! Aromantic people having sex? Ohh people hate that!!

I guess the existence of aphobia can be confusing when you haven't spent much time thinking about asexuality and aromanticism, but in the end, these are identities that aren't heteronormative and they will be hit with the same or similar bigotry as any other queer identity. I just get tired of this response after seeing it recycled for 10 years without ever seeming to go any further.

[strwberri-milk]

Good morning, Berri. I'm back with another LADS request. You can consider this request a continuation of this: https://www.tumblr.com/strwberri-milk/780182378558767104/good-morning-berri-im-back-with-another-lads May I request: You bring the LADS men to your family's Christmas reunion party held annually at your grandparent's place for the first time. It didn't take long for that one flirtatious cousin to hit on your boyfriend. What happens?

i dont think ive done this before but also, just a heads up these are going to be shorter bc of the fact that youre asking for all of them - please remember that if you want more detailed requests to cap it at three as my rules state.

He won't take it at all. He doesn't respond to any sort of flirtatious comment that is being directed at him, no matter how subtle or overt the comment may be. He makes it very clear that he's only interested in you and nobody else, and just because it's family doesn't mean he's going to be nice. He wants to set down clear boundaries and make sure that nobody thinks he's going to do anything behind your back.

Zayne is the most polite of the group at least. He rebukes any sort of affection with a firm nod and a gentle push in the right direction - physically too, if he must. If they try to touch him or get too close he'll redirect by moving their hand by the wrist or gently pushing against their arm and putting his own around your waist.

At some point it'll just become very awkward for them when Zayne decides to just start giving them a cold stare. They'll say something, call him funny and try to touch his bicep again and everyone's watching because they've been seeing this rejection over and over again. He'll simply tell them that if they try to touch him one more time he'll be leaving because he feels like they're acting highly inappropriate with him. He'll level them with a pointed look and now they're forced to acknowledge their actions.

If they try to deny it then he'll drop it but if they try again then he'll simply ask to leave, the two of you slipping away as Zayne doesn't want to put up with it anymore. If they finally apologise then Zayne is going to make it clear that the apology hasn't made things "okay", avoiding them for the rest of the night in a more pointed manner and making everybody gossip and whisper.

Xavier will just avoid their touches. It doesn't matter how awkward it might be for him to literally jump away from them but he'll do it if he has to. He's already attached to you by the hip so it's not like you're going to be too far away for him to grab at. They'll laugh awkwardly, telling him that they don't bite and that he doesn't need to run away so viscerally. He doesn't bother replying, just turning his attention back to you and keeping close to you.

If they keep trying then he'll just turn and tell them to leave him alone. He isn't interested and he won't ever be interested. That, paired with the death glare he gives them makes it clear that even if Xavier looks passive and chill, there's no way he won't act on a perceived threat to his relationship - which is what they're presenting as. He'll make the message clear by just asking you if the two of you can go home and Xavier won't show up at any future events if they're present.

Rafayel doesn't respond well at all. Similar to Xavier, he has no problem acting out. He's known as difficult for a reason and he will pull out every diva card he needs to. The first statement is flatly ignored, Rafayel looking at them like they're the dirt on his shoes as he asks them what they're trying to do. He isn't a fan of what they're insinuating and he makes it clear, rolling his eyes and treating them unkindly.

He'll maintain a cold attitude throughout the entire event, making it a point of walking away or straight up laughing at them if the statement calls for it. He finds it highly offensive that they think hitting on him in front of you would work on him even if the two of you weren't together. If he gets bored of actively belittling them then he'll start ignoring and making it clear he wants to go home. He's even clingier than usual, and nobody's going to really like him after this event but he doesn't care, citing the flirting as the main reason why he's going to be mean and he has no problem doing so.

Sylus is also quite cold. He'll only humor it once, raising a brow and asking if they think now is really an appropriate time to be making such comments about him. He'll look around pointedly, arm around your waist as he draws attention to them attempting to flirt with a man in a clearly committed relationship. Then, he'll turn to you and say something in your ear while looking at them - it doesn't matter what he said but he'll laugh and you'll smack at his chest. The way he's acting will of course make them think it's about them and have everybody else whispering about it which will definitely ruin their day.

If, somehow, they have the guts to keep flirting with him he'll just tell them to shut up and leave him alone. He doesn't want to hear them talking to him nor have them think he'd even entertain the thought for half a second. His voice is harsh and maybe even a touch cruel but they probably will finally leave him alone afterwards.

Caleb is generally a very friendly guy but any advances that are given to him are just...bounced off if it's family or someone close to you. He doesn't want to be fully rude so he'll just develop selective hearing and ignore anything that he doesn't want to hear. It doesn't matter what they say or how they try to convey it - if they're trying to flirt with him he won't respond. It'll get to a point where they look desperate for his attention, clearly trying to flirt and failing so miserably as he shows them photos of you that he loves for the nth time.

If a stranger/someone not close to you tries to flirt with him all they get in response is a firm "no." No explanation, no other conversation, just a no. He won't say anything to them at all after the fact if it's clear the only intent was to try and get his number or something, making it clear he's in a loving relationship and that he has no want to entertain their advances.

[jackabbotkisser]

dbf!robby — party favours

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | 18+ ONLY

warnings - age gap, p in v unprotected sex, daddy, fingering, cockwarming, jealous robby, dirty talk

“you’re not my fucking dad” you shout as you tug on your converse. you and robby had been arguing for the past 10 minutes. you’d been asked to go to a party and robby insisted you stayed home instead.

“i dont want you drinking, around those stupid boys… around people who aren’t me. it’s not safe” he says, towering over you.

“i’m not missing it, everyone is going” you mumble, throwing a light denim jacket on. “you cant tell me what you do” you then add.

“come on…” he says, “dont be like that” he follows you over to the door, you roll your eyes.

“dont wait up” you say before slamming the door shut leaving robby pinching the bridge if his nose.

“fucking brat…” he mumbles under his breath.

—

11:46PM

robby’s phone rings, he waited up. of course he fucking did. he’s been worried sick thinking about what you were getting up to at that party, who you were talking to. he lets out a sigh, his mind far away from the glow of the tv.

his phone rings, he doesn’t even look at the name to know its you.

“hello” he says, quickly. desperate to hear your voice.

“roooobby?” you slur, your eyes closed as you hold the phone to your ear. robby lets out a sigh of relief, at least you were alive and wanted to talk to him.

“can you come and get me!” you ask, pouting to yourself, he knows you’re doing it, he can hear it in your voice

“where are you? can you tell me the address?” he ask, already throwing a hoodie on and grabbing his keys from the counter. you manage to describe where you are, he knew where it was. he knew the family, a little too well and what he did know was that they were bad news.

his jaw clenches as he drives, anxiously tapping on the steering wheel hoping the traffic moves faster as he drives through the darkened streets before pulling up outside the house. the place was crowded with teens, smoking and drinking out front. his eyes immediately fall onto you, your arm wrapped around some guy, laughing as you take a sip of beer and he feels his blood boil.

he slams the car door shut and storms over to you. “hey” he shouts over to you, grabbing your attention. you freeze at the sound of his voice before turning around.

“we’re going. now” he demands, his voice low as he puts his hand on the small of your back to guide you to the car.

“c’mon lets have one last drink!” you slur, tugging his hand towards the house and he shakes his head. “no fucking way, you’re leaving” he says sternly, giving you a look you know full well not to disobey.

“no fun” you groan as he practically drags you to his car, he helps you into the passenger seat and you immediately rest your head against the window, your eyes fluttering closed.

he lets out a weary sigh as he gets into the drivers seat, starting the engine without a word. the drive home is silent, robby occasionally glances over at you to check you’re alright. you rest a hand on his thigh and he grips the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white.

“this isn’t the way to my house” you say, looking out the window. robby lets out a scoff “yeah, you’re not going home like that your parents would kill you” he says as he focuses on the road. “im taking you back to my place”

“are you mad at me?” you ask him, he doesnt respond right away, he’s thinking his words over. he was mad but not at you, he was mad at the asshole who you were with.

“i told you that would happen… i told you those boys would take advantage of you” he says, avoiding your gaze still. “his hands were all over you” he grumbles.

you close your eyes again, the guilt making your head spin and stomach churn. he was right, you shouldn’t have gone. you dont respond you just close your eyes, counting down the seconds till you get out of the car.

when you reach the apartment complex parking lot, robby helps you out silently and leads you up to the apartment and onto the couch.

“stay there” he says quietly, he may be mad but he still cared and didnt like seeing you in this state. he makes his way to the bathroom to fetch some painkillers and then the kitchen to get a glass of water but when he reaches the living room, you’re no where to be seen. the sound of you retching echos through the hallway and he rushes to the bathroom.

you’re sat on the cold floor, throwing up into the toilet. he frowns before rushing to your side, kneeling down beside you and holding your hair back. the other hand rubbing your back slowly. “its alright baby… let it out” he says quietly, continuing his soothing movements.

“you’re okay” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your head. “i’m here, i got you” he whispers.

eventually the vomiting stops, you fall back against his chest. your chest still heaving a little. “i-im sorry” you say quietly. “i should have listened to you and stayed home.

his eyes soften at your words and he shakes his head. “its okay” he whispers, his arms around your waist. “i just got all protective and jealous” he says. “i know you’re young and still have a life and friends. you’re allowed to go and do stuff i dont want to stop you”

you nod slowly, turning slightly so you can bury your head in his chest. “just dont like anyone touching whats mine” he says, planting kisses into your hair.

“you know im yours” you whisper. “i only want you.”

-

after you get cleaned up, robby scoops you up into his arms. “c’mon lets get you out of these clothes and into bed” he says softly, still cradling you against his chest as he carries you to his bedroom.

he sets you down on the bed before bringing you one of his old t-shirts. “arms up” he says as he lifts your dress over your head. he lets out a laugh when he sees your hair all messy and he ruffles his with his free hand before pulling the shirt over your head.

“there we go” he says, his thumb resting on your cheek. stroking it gently before he pulls over the covers. he gets in first before he pulls you into him and against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

“this is it, you’re right when you belong” he says against your skin. “in my bed, wrapped in my arms. all mine” he says. his lips now ghosting over your jaw as he presses little kisses against it.

“you understand that right? you’re all mine. you belong to me” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin causing your pussy to ache a little. he could tell right away that he was turning you on, he could always tell. he knew you off the back of his hand.

“tell me you belong to me” he says, like its an order. you swallow hard before nodding.

“i belong to you… im all yours” you say, like its a prayer. like he’s your religion. his hand finds its way between your thighs, you were so wet for him. so wet and he hadn’t even done anything yet.

“this wet already?” he smirks, his teeth grazing your neck slightly as his fingers ghost over your clit. “those silly boys at those parties, none of them know how to please you. none of them know just how to play with this pretty little pussy… or how to make it cum” he says. his words are too much, your pussy was getting wetter by the second.

he slides a finger inside of you, and you clench around it. you find yourself grinding against it, desperate for more. desperate for him.

“you’re so fucking tight” he groans, one hand coming up to cup your breast through his t-shirt.

“n-need more” you whine, your head leaning back into the crook of neck. “please… fuck me” your heart is racing, his finger feels so good but you need something bigger.

“please daddy…” your desperate now, practically squirming around his fingers. he lets out a low laugh.

“oh well since you asked so nicely…” you let out a loud gasp when you feel his cock inside of you, stretching out your hole.

“atta girl” he coos. “taking your daddy’s cock so well…” he presses his lips to your neck once more, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin.

“babygirl…” he groans, his cock is so hard and the combination of your moans and the tightness of your cunt is making him lose his mind.

“you’re gonna make me cum…” he mumbles, his thrusts becoming deeper and slower.

“please…” you whimper… “please fill me up” you’re practically begging, your free hand toying with your clit. the sensations driving you to the edge as you start to cum on his cock.

“oh f-fuck” he cries out, spilling his load inside of you. “thats it, let me fill you up” he kisses the back of your neck, his cock twitching as he empties every last drop inside of you.

he doesn’t dare pull out, he keeps you there. his arm wrapped firmly around your waist holding you against him. “gonna stay inside all night” he whispers and you let him.

safe to say you never did end up going to another one of those parties again.

[elswhore]

hey gorg! congrats on the 2,000!! you deserve it. i was wondering if you could per chance do a angst to fluff with prompt 7? with ju, maybe someone was sending mixed signals and and they get in a lil argument but work things out.

(i’m so sorry this is long i wasn’t sure how to explain it🙃)

prompt 7 "tell me what you want" ── angst to fluff.

thank you so muchh!. sorry i dont get it.. but i tried hope i did wrote it right. (btw i loved writing this)

you paced the living room, your phone clutched tightly in your hand, replaying the last few weeks in your mind, juju’s laugh, her teasing smirks, the way her hand lingered on your arm a little too long moments that felt like promises.

but then there were the days she’d pull back, her texts short and distant, her eyes avoiding yours when you tried to get closer, the mixed signals were driving you up the wall, and you were done, the front door clicked open, and juju stepped inside, her dark hair loose around her shoulders, her gym bag slung over one arm.

she looked at you, her brows lifting slightly at the tension radiating off you. “hey,” she said, her voice casual, like she hadn’t noticed the storm brewing in your eyes. “what’s up?” you stopped pacing, turning to face her, your grip on your phone tightening.

“what’s up?” you echoed, your voice sharp with the frustration you’d been bottling for weeks. “juju, I’m so fucking tired of this, one day you’re all over me, flirting, acting like you want something real, and the next you’re cold, like i’m just some friend you barely care about, do you even know how confusing that is?”

juju’s expression faltered, her bag sliding off her shoulder to the floor as she straightened, her eyes locking onto yours. “what are you talking about?” she asked, but there was a defensive edge to her voice, like she was bracing for a fight. “don’t play dumb,” you snapped, stepping closer, your emotions spilling over.

“you know exactly what i mean, you’ll text me at midnight, saying shit that makes my heart race, then ghost me for two days, you’ll hug me like you never want to let go, then act like it’s nothing when i try to talk about us, i can’t keep doing this, juju. i’m not some game you can pick up and drop whenever you feel like it.”

your voice cracked on the last sentence, and you hated how vulnerable it made you sound, but you couldn’t stop now. “i like you, okay? i’ve liked you for so long, and i thought—i thought you felt something too, but if you don’t, just say it, stop stringing me along, because i can’t take it anymore.”

the room fell silent, the weight of your words hanging between you, juju’s face softened, the defensiveness melting away as she took in your trembling hands, the raw hurt in your eyes, she stepped forward, closing the distance, but you took a step back, shaking your head.

“don’t,” you said, your voice quieter now, but firm. “eon’t just hug me or say something cute to smooth this over, need to know where you stand.” juju stopped, her hands falling to her sides, for a moment, she looked lost, her usual confidence replaced by something softer, almost uncertain.

“I’m sorry,” she said finally, her voice low, genuine. “i didn’t mean to mess with your head, i just… i’m not good at this.” you frowned, crossing your arms, still guarded. “good at what? being honest? caring about someone?”

“no,” she said quickly, her eyes searching yours. “figuring out how to let myself want this, want you, without freaking out..i know i've been all over the place, and that’s on me, i get close, and then i pull back because… i don’t know, i’m scared of screwing it up..but i do care, i care so much it fucks me up sometimes.”

her words hit you hard, unraveling some of the anger but leaving the hurt behind, you swallowed, your throat tight. “then why can’t you just show it? why do i have to feel like i'm chasing you all the time?”juju’s shoulders sagged, and she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling shakily.

“because i’m an idiot,” she admitted, a small, self deprecating smile tugging at her lips. “and because i’ve never felt like this before, not this much, i keep thinking if i hold back, i’ll protect myself or whatever, but all i’m doing is hurting you, nd i hate that.” ehe stepped closer again, and this time you didn’t pull away.

her hands hovered near your arms, hesitant, like she was waiting for permission. “tell me what you want,” she said softly, her voice raw, her eyes pleading. “i don’t want to lose you, i just need to know how to fix this.” your heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice, the way she was laying herself bare for the first time.

you took a shaky breath, your anger softening as you looked at her, really looked at her, and saw the sincerity in her eyes. “i want you to stop running,” you said, your voice quiet but steady. “i want you to be real with me, even if it’ messy, if you’re scared, say it, if you want me, show it, just… be here. with me.”

juju nodded, her eyes glistening slightly as she closed the gap, her hands finally settling gently on your arms. “i’m here,” she whispered, her thumbs brushing soft circles against your skin.

[prettysureimlost]

ever wondered what it would be like if big dicked lando got fucked by both his boyfriends at the same time?? well look no further

also available on ao3

got stuck in oblivion

Lando had begged for it, had proper gotten down on his knees and begged once too, before Max and Oscar had caved. So Max was glad to see he was enjoying it. 

Although maybe enjoying it wasn't accurate, Max thought, as Oscar slowly slides into Lando from behind. Lando is lying on top of Oscar, back flush against Oscar's chest. He was shining with sweat, even though they'd basically just started, his whole body coated in a light sheen of moisture. And Max would have thought he was in pain, the way his face is screwed up, if it weren’t for the moans spilling it out of mouth. Moans that would put a pornstar to shame.

He looks down at Lando’s cock and snorts when he sees how hard it is. All Max had done was finger him open. And he’d even made sure to avoid his prostate, wanted to keep him right on the edge, until they were both inside him. 

And if Lando’s had gotten more turned on at the constant stream of consciousness coming out of Max’s mouth, that wasn't his fault. Wasn't his fault Lando got stupidly turned on from some simple words. Wasn’t his fault Lando loved it when Max brought up his stupidly big dick, and loved it even more when he followed it up with shit like shame you dont know how to use it though. Max was just being honest, it wasn't his fault.

Snapping out of his thoughts at a particularly pathetic moan from Lando, he notices Oscars hip twitch upwards, fucking into Lando. It’s hardly anything; Oscar already flush with Lando’s arse, just grinding in impossibly deeper.

“Oi, Osc,” he says, slapping Oscar's outer thigh. Lightly, just to get the point across. “What happened to waiting for me? Naughty boy.” 

A smile tugs on Max’s lips despite himself when Oscar doesn't respond, his head thrashing to the side, eyes screwed shut and mouth parted as he whines quietly. But—heeding Max’s warning—he stills his hips. 

Just as gone as Lando then, Max thinks with a smirk. 

“Please… please, Oscah,” Lando whines, voice high and pathetic. 

“Hey, no,” Max cuts him off, voice soft, “None of that, Bob. You asked for this, so you’ll lie there and take what I give you, ‘kay?” He pinches the inside of Lando’s thigh hard. Hard enough to hopefully get through the thick haze that has settled in Lando's head. And by the way he whines, arching away from the touch, Max knows he was successful. Lando’s cock twitches, despite the weight of it, where it’s lying against his stomach, and Max watches as it leaks, precome spilling from the tip and slowly dripping down to the ever-growing puddle on Lando’s stomach.

Max runs a slow finger through the mess, spreading it up Lando's stomach, his nail scraping the skin as he goes. 

“So wet,” He nearly whispers, “Dripping for it already, Bob?” he asks, not really expecting an answer.

“The only thing this thing is useful for, really,” he says matter of factly, punctuating his sentence with a prod to Lando’s cock. 

“Max, fuck–” Lando whines, “please…” his voice rough. He cracks open his eyes to stare up at Max, and he feels for Lando when he sees those watery eyes pleading for something, anything.

Giving in, Max picks up the bottle of lube, squirting a generous glob onto two of his fingers. He tosses the bottle back onto the bed and throws a glance at Oscar, who’s been pretty quiet since he was told off. 

“Still doing alright, Osc?” he asks airily, as if Oscar isn't already balls deep inside Lando. As if he doesn't have the full weight of a body pressing down on his chest. As if he isn't fully aware of what they're about to do.  

Oscar just whimpers, nodding once slowly.  

“Good boy,” Max says with a laugh. He lifts his fingers up to Lando’s hole, pushing his thighs out the way to get a better angle. Even though he’s seen the sight many times before, his cock still twitches in his briefs, mouth watering as he looks at the tight, pink furl of Lando’s hole, stretching around Oscar’s cock.

He slowly traces around Lando’s hole, making it nice and wet, before slowly working one, then two fingers in beside Oscar. Above him, Lando moans hips twitching erratically.

“Too much already?” he asks, voice laced with mock concern. “Want me to stop?” 

He can practically see the gears turning in Lando’s head, so he adds, “Remember if we stop, you don't get to come.” 

At this, Lando’s face scrunches up again. Max knows him, knows what he's going to say, but he lets him pretend to debate the choice in his head for a few moments longer. 

“Need it, need you–” he says finally. He sounds pained, as if the words are being punched out of him, and Max feels Lando clench around his fingers, making them dig inro the side of Oscar’s cock. 

“Attaboy,” Max says, and slowly starts to fuck his fingers in and out of Lando’s hole, scissoring them carefully to stretch him further. Once he deems it loose enough, he slips in a third finger, just to be safe. 

--

Aside from the vice-like grip Lando’s hole has on his cock as he slides in, the sight of it, him squeeing in beside Oscar, almost makes Max come on the spot. And the sound Lando lets out, pathetic and loud, doesn't help. As Max inches deeper and deeper, Lando arches his back higher and higher, letting out a stream of curse words—some of which Max didn't even know he knew. 

“So fucking tight–” Max gets out between his gritted teeth, “Ease up a bit, will ya. Gonna be over before it's even started.”

Max is being generous; he’ll be surprised if he lasts more than a minute at this rate, but if Lando doesn’t relax soon, Max might actually leave this room dickless.

Oscar runs his hands up Lando's sides and wraps his arms around to hug Lando’s chest, breathing slowly to help calm Lando down. And it seems to works; Lando’s breath evens out, and his hole, fucking finally, loosens. 

“That’s it, thank you, baby,” he praises, and he's not sure who he's addressing.

Slowly, he pulls out, the slide easy thanks to the excessive amounts of lube he's used. Until he’s nearly all the way out, the flushed head of his cock just peekin out. Then, he slides back in, as fast as he can manage, as fast as the stretch of Landos' hole will allow. He repeats the movement, pulling out again, before driving his hips forward hard, fucking his cock deeper inside Lando. 

He fucks him like that, alternating between deep slow thrusts, and pulling out just to fuck sharply back in again. Oscar is doing his best, given the circumstance, hips fucking weakly up into Lando, not doing much damage. But by the look on his face, he doesn't seem to be complaining. 

Lando is letting out a steady, near-constant stream of moans, loud enough that passersby might genuinely be able to hear. Max would be worried if it the thought didn’t make his cock throb. 

“Moaning like a whore, Bob,” he pants, “S’like you want people to hear, want people to know how good we’re giving it to you.” He huffs out a laugh when Lando whines and reaches down to touch his forgotten cock.

Max catches him, though, before he makes contact, with a slap to his wrist. 

“Nah,” Max drawls, “Reckon you don’t need any of that to come, do ya?” Max starts speeding up his thrusts, gripping Lando’s hips, the sound of his thighs slapping against Lando’s arse echoing around the room. “You’ve done it before, know you can do it.” His movements jostle Lando’s cock, and Max watches as it jerks uselessly where it’s lying on Lando’s stomach. 

The puddle of pre has grown in the meantime, some of it dribbling down the side of Lando’s waist. Max drags two fingers through it, digging them into Lando’s skin to get as much of it as possible on his fingers, before bringing them up to Lando's mouth. His lips part at the mere touch of Max’s fingers against them, making Max smile. Trained him well.

Lando eagerly starts licking at the digits, cleaning them of all the residue and covering them in spit. He then takes them deeper, closing his mouth to suck on them properly. And Max, knowing what Lando wants before he has to ask for it, starts fucking his fingers into Lando’s waiting mouth. 

He struggles to keep the pace of his hips up after that—the sensation of Lando sucking so hard his cheeks hollow, distracting him. But he tries his best, and finally, something snaps inside Lando. His hole clenches impossibly tighter around their cocks, and his hips stutter, unsure of which direction to go, just looking for that little bit extra.

Max fucks him through it, but the sudden tightness of Lando’s ass brings him to the edge quicker than he expects, and watching, as if in slow motion, as Lando’s cock spurts ropes of come in time with Max’s thrusts, has him spilling inside Lando with a shout. 

Once he’s stopped coming, his breath still ragged, he pulls out slowly. He watches his come drip out of Lando’s open hole and slide down Oscar’s cock. There’s more come than he was expecting and Oscar’s cock has softened in Lando’s hole, almost slipping out with Max’s, so he realises Oscar must’ve come somewhere between Lando and himself. 

The sight is beautiful, though: the two men on the bed, draped over each other, chests heaving, skin shining with sweat, and both their eyes wet with leftover tears. Max almost says something snide like "Ready for round two?" but he doesn't think that’ll be received well—or at all, really, with the state of these two, just barely still awake.

He can’t help himself though, the sight of Lando’s fucked out hole making his dick twitch against his leg. He swears he isn't in control of his body when he brings a thumb up to where his and Oscar's come has mixed and is busy dripping out of Lando. He slips his thumb inside easily and tugs not so gently at Lando’s rim. Then he's almost kneed in the face as Lando jerks away from the touch, the stimulation just tipping over into too much. 

“Okay, okay,” he says as he retracts his finger. Another time, if Lando hadn't taken both of them—at the same time, that is—he'd have fed Lando their come, made him clean off Max’s fingers, one by one. Or Max would have eaten it out of him, slipping a few fingers in beside his tongue to coax another orgasm out of that uselessly big cock of his.

But for now, he just places a chaste kiss to the inside of Lando’s knee, and a quick squeeze to Oscar's ankle, before he heads to the bathroom to look for something to clean up their mess with.

[genderoutlaws]

hello. i would like to preface this by saying i am assuming you have good faith when doing this, and i do not mean to come across as aggressive or mean or anything else other than trying to inform you of something you may not have been aware of. i am on anon purely to avoid facing harassment. you may simply call me 🦞 anon if you wish to refer to me.

as a transmascneu person, please do not use tme (assuming you mean transmisogyny exempt). it is a phrase used to minimalise our struggles and is often used in a misogynistic/transmisandristic manner (check out the tag "transandrodorks" for examples of this) (normally it is stuff like "these stupid tmes dont know what real oppression is!!!"). a lot of the time, tme/tma are just used in the same way agab is. it isnt used in productive discussions about gender or bigotry. its normally just used to deny peoples experiences and get them to shut up.

transmasculine and transfeminine and other trans people do have some differences in oppression, but one is not more or less oppressed than the other. plus even statistics are unreliable, as many trans people are misgendered after death so they are never included in those statistics.

(tw for mentioning violence and transphobia) many trans men are forcibly impregnated and not allowed access into shelters if they come out because theyre "for women only". likewise lots of trans women are harassed in bathrooms for being visibly trans or if someone just knows theyre trans, and also not allowed in shelters because theyre not "real women". nonbinary people can face similar consequences depending on the society theyre in and how theyre perceived. i would not say either fate is better or worse than the other. theyre somewhat different experiences, sure, but would i say being murdered is worse than forcibly impregnated? absolutely not. theyre both awful things that happen because of misogyny, transmisogyny, exorsexism, and transmisandry.

transmisogyny can affect people who arent transfeminine (and vice versa for transmisandry/exorsexism). despite not being transfem, i myself have been affected by it in many ways. i am also a person of colour, so i get affected by it simply for being hairy or having a larger nose than most of my white peers. this is why transmisogyny-exempt isnt a useful term to describe people that arent transfem; lots of poc, nontransfem trans people, butches, and intersex people can be heavily affected by transmisogyny! even cis perisex men can be! to say that theyre not at all is denying them their experiences and their ability to talk about their own oppression.

if you do want to talk about people who are nontransfem, imo its better to just say nontransfem because that puts a better point across than "these people that are not affected by transmisogyny". for example, we say white and people of colour. we do not say racism exempt and racism affected. racism can affect white people (personal prejudices plus also being perceived as a person of colour). however it is generally understood that racism is more likely to affect poc. likewise, transmisogyny generally affects transfems the most, but nontransfems can definitely experience it! i would say it is probably better to put cis/transmasc/trans man/nonbinary/transneu/queer/another way to word your relationship with gender than tme, if you would like others to know. if you dont then your pronouns are fine cuz tbf it isnt actually anyones business to know anything except how to politely refer to you.

i am not here to preach how transmascs or nonbinary people are actually "more oppressed" than transfems. i do not believe this at all. all i would like to say is that i think the language of tme/tma is neither productive or used productively and we have better ways of putting our points across and talking about our relationships to gender or society. thank you and good night.

[para-shoelaces]

Just a silly ramble on some psycho-analysis on a few of the characters! Shrimpo, Glisten and Sprout!

———

- Shrimpo:

Anger issues and openly expressing it constantly tends to come to ppl as a coping mechanism, a protective defense because if you have a bigger bark than everyone else you will be heard no matter how small you are. I think his anger issues come from how small he is as well as just a cover, not being a main toon and likely having heavy difficulty making friends, being literally MADE to be the bully.. its all he has to be close to people in any resemblance of the word. I feel like he does like hating genuinely, because its protection. But he does get hurt when people distance back from him or actively ignore him. But that hurt turns around into begging for their attention to be heard how HE hates THEM so of COURSE HE ISNT MAD!!! Cause THEY SHOULD BE MAD!

I love him, I also have a hc that when he was made he was made like a stuffed animal basically so if he punches ppl it wouldnt actually hurt them in the slightest. So in any physical fights he carries contraband weapons or otherwise is demolished by other toons.

BUT… Finn saw how Shrimpo needs to take his anger out through words/actions and ever since realizing is one of the only toons to if hit by shrimpo, use his power (the water splash) to look like shrimpos fist sent him FLYING

Love Shrimpo….Anger is super difficult to deal with and being in a tiny body MADE to be harmless… he NEEDS to let it out through actions and words.

I like to think if he just had someone whod listen to him, overtime his harshness’ll simmer down into a genuine care as he gets quieter before building it up again. Hes terrible w/ words but his ACTIONS??? They speak SO loud.

———

-Glisten:

Glisten having CANONICAL self image issues is everything to me and you bet I took and ran with it, I LOVE THINKING ABOUT HIM!!!

I think he likely has RSD which he overcompensates for with a self inflated image, but in reality no matter how many compliments he receives it will never outweigh the perfect image bar he set for himself, something he will never be able to reach, always falling short and always desperately trying to cover up who he sees as useless for it </3

at the end of the day what really gets past that for him isnt just words but shows that he is enough just how he is. People seeing him not for the showstopper he wants to be but the quiet nerd with a love for reading and pretty things. I think he definitely hides parts of himself he thinks dont “fit his role” or are things to be ashamed about. But being seen for those things AND loved for those things is what’ll actually help him grow and he doesnt want to acknowledge that

———

-Sprout:

Fav main, I love thinking about his dynamic so much. Its so easy for ppl to just see him as the “helpful” one, but he is so much more than that lemmie tell you. He is overworked, and the only one causing that is himself. Constantly helping others at the expense of himself because he cant see that the true way to grow together is if you show your own insecurities in the process. He will rather die than show anyone if hes hurt, or if he needs help. He will mentally run himself into the ground just to get a glimpse of a friend smiling. But instead of focusing on himself, he does ANYTHING to avoid the building issues hes not confronting within himself, insecurities and shames. So he helps others, and NEEDS to keep his bakery exactly how he likes it. If anything is slightly amiss, if a friend is hurt? It is a personal failure for HIM. He stakes his own worth on his friends stabilities and its constantly to his own detriment

</3

———

Can you tell I love psychology?? VERY self indulgent ramble over, if theres any other toons you’re curious my thoughts on feel free to comment!

[technically-human]

i followed you for dead boy detectives (love your work btw <3) so it's usually just entertaining to see your stobotnik stuff and scroll past like wow i dont know what any of this means! and logically i know those characters came from the sonic the hedgehog universe but i saw your drawing just now about how sonic would react to egg and pebble and it was truly a jumpscare i was like "WHATS SONIC DOING HERE????" girl what's sonic doing in his OWN universe? cmon 😭 made me laugh out loud at myself

Sonic? In the Sonic fandom? It's more likely than you think!

Lmao to be fair I actively try to avoid drawing him. Drawing animals is hard, and Sonic is... A particular challenge.

[softspace-fics]

Peace pt.2

Okay honestly dont know how I feel about how this turned out, but I kinda wanted to make a part three, so little bit of a cliff hanger. IM ON MY FINAL WEEK OF SCHOOL!! THANK GOD. Im so happy this semester and year is almost over, I need out. Writing has been such a escape. Thank you all for your interactions and love for my works<3

With Frank and Matt I want to do more darker toned regression posts. So I'm leaning a bit more into it, but this is very new territory for me so I hope you all like it.

CG!FRANK CASTLE X CG!MATT MURDOCK X GN!LITTLE

PART 1 HERE!!

Masterlist - All my work!

Warnings⚠️: Mentions of trauma, blood, hurt characters, involuntary regression, cussing, mentions of social anxiety, found little, bad pasts, READ WITH CAUTION PLEASE!!⚠️

_______

“Your actually trying to get yourself killed.” Matt mumbles as he practically throws Frank onto the couch.

 A thud is heard before Frank groans in some sort of pain, clutching his side. He glares at Matt, leaning into the couch.

You stood rooted in your spot, breathing starting to fasten as you watch the scenario infront of you. Frank has a little blood on his face that wasn’t there last you saw him, and Matt’s clothes were stained with god knows what, all messed up. Something you’d never seen from him.

Matt eventually tosses a bag of ice at frank before he sits down across from him, leaning his head on the back of the chair. He sighs heavily before he starts to completely sense you.

He's able to hear your heart, something he always could hear from miles away. He could tell you were in the office, but didn’t know why or if you had heard them.

A soft sob escapes your mouth as you hold your head in your hands once more, hoping to god that the two right outside don’t hear you. All the bottled emotions that you’ve held in for months now coming through and causing your body to shake. You try and stay as quiet as you can, just wanting to let yourself have a moment before trying to escape from the office.

You sit down in your chair as your legs begin to give out from under you. As much as you just want to go home, and act like you saw nothing, you truly can’t.

As you try and calm your breathing a loud crash outside makes you jump, completely breaking all sense of logic in you.

Matt sat on the couch, his fist bawled like he was going to punch whatever was making you hurt the way you were. He could hear everything, from the slurred words you mumbled to yourself, to the way your tears hit the desk. All he wanted to do was go in there and help you.

Frank starts to pick up on Matts tense figure, watching how he sits up and leans forward.

“What red? Hell you hear?” Frank mutters, voice filled with annoyance.

Matt sighs before he stands up, walking to your office and gently knocking. Frank sits up some and can finally see you through the glass. He immediately gets up, even though his side screams from the bruise that's forming, and stalks over to the door where matt is standing.

Frank opens the door carefully trying his hardest to calm his racing heart and mind, attempting to avoid scaring you. As you hear the door open you look up to see the two men standing crowded at the door.

Frank immediately comes over and pulls you to his arms even though he hates physical contact. He refuses to just stand there and watch you cry without comforting you.

Matt grabs tissues before walking to you and rubbing your back, trying to figure out how to help you through this. Even if he had no clue what ‘this’ was.

“We’re here. We’ve got you.” Matt softly says.

You practically hang off of Frank, your strength gone as your body shakes from the tears escaping from you. Too scared to talk you nod to matt's words, holding tighter onto Frank.

Frank eventually just picks you up, carefully walking over to the couch he just was on and sitting down with you still securely in his arms. You aren’t sure when or how, but your tears eventually start to die down, your body relaxing into the warmth radiating off of Frank.

Franks arms feel like a blanket of security as your mind lets go, everything becoming centered around Frank and Matt. Matt had moved from your office door over to the little kitchen area, making a cup of water for you to drink once you were able to breathe better.

Frank had learned of regression years ago after dealing with enough psychological issues and had no problem with it. Although not for him, he could clearly see it was something your mind did. Even if it was involuntary.

Frank softly threads his fingers through your hair, trying his hardest to be gentle with you. He’d been through it all, and was beginning to recognize the mannerisms you displayed.

From the little pout on your lips, the way your hand fisted his shirt, and from the small glimpses he had caught of your eyes, your mildly dilated eyes gave a huge hint to your regression.

“It’s alright kiddo, i’ve got you. You’re safe.” He softly murmured, gently holding you tighter.

You peak at him carefully, trying to register if the words that just came out of his mouth were real. Matt walks back over with the water cup, his face full of confusion. Frank was older than you, but he never once called you a nickname like that. Matt could tell the name made your heart race, but not in endearment but in fear. Like your secret was just revealed.

“Regression, red. They’re like 2, maybe. Scared out of their ever-loving mind.” Frank says to Matt.

Matt has the urge to facepalm as everything clicks in his mind. From the excitement when you get new small stuffed animals, to the number of stickers you have, to the way when everything becomes too much you borderline run to hide, and how whenever something that may trigger your regression happens your heart races and you try and avoid it.

Matt walks back over to the coffee bar and grabs a straw from Foggys endless supplies of them and then places it in the water cup. He hands the cup to frank to try and get you to drink it, but you shake your head before just resting back on franks shoulder, exhaustion hitting you.

Matt and Frank shared a look of both pure anger and also gratitude to seeing this side. They both had questions but they knew you were in no shape to be able to explain or give them those answers. So instead they just sat there in silence, Frank softly rocking you and Matt listening to your heartbeat slowly calm down. Eventually you fell asleep on Franks shoulder, completely clinging to him.

Frank didn’t move a muscle, and when Matt tried to help you off him, Frank flipped him off and made sure you were comfortably sleeping still.

Though when you woke, questions would absolutely be asked to you, you needed to rest and frank would murder someone if they interrupted your sleep currently.

Matt and frank would quietly speak throughout the night, neither of them wanting to sleep in case you woke up. The two were extremely careful as the night passed on, and made sure no matter what, they’d be there for you when you felt this way, even if they weren’t sure why you felt this way or what caused it.

[tipytap]

hey if you are sad about a content creator you liked getting cancelled because you have merch that is now considered a waste of money:

upcycle that merch. deface that shit, make it custom and unrecognizable. add patches over names, bleach out or paint over designs, cut it up, emborider new designs on it, the possibilities are endless.

merch is usually a symbol of support for creators. make it instead a symbol of yourself and your tastes.

[s0fter-sin]

thinking about the way ghost doesn't hesitate to start killing shadows when graves betrays them but soap only takes one hostage

you can almost hear the voice in his head telling him it doesn't have to be this way; they can still talk it out

"i'm calling shepherd"

his first instinct when confronted with betrayal is to play it by the books: to go up the chain. that goes against everything we've seen him do. he bucks authority at every chance except for the one time he's confronted with the barrels of his allies' guns

he wants a peaceful resolution; for the first time we've ever seen, he doesn't want violence to be the answer. there has to be another fix, a solution that doesn't end with him killing the same men he's been working with; his friends

nothing's happened yet

it doesn't have to go this way

but ghost has been betrayed before. he knows the way this ends; either with him six feet under or his enemy

he doesn't hesitate

it's only when they knock alejandro out that soap shoots; when they spill the first blood and cross a line they can never come back from

only when ghost orders him to run and he has to cover his retreat

and somewhere along the line, between civilians’ screams and taunting voices, between his shaking breath and ghost steady in his ear, that naivety is stripped away; his trust turned to teeth that he uses to sink into throats of men he'd have given his life for

"be careful who you trust, sergeant; people you know can hurt you the most"

he's learned the price of trust

just like ghost did

but unlike ghost, he has someone to guide him through the aftermath

"good advice, It"

[yuwuta]

you ask yuuta if he wants a bite of your food and when he says yes you offer your plate to him, but he’s just sat there looking at you with his dumb big bambi boy eyes and his mouth slightly open and he will not look away or blink or close his mouth until you lift your fork to his lips to feed him and then he grins like shit’s sweet and hums about how good the food is like nothing happened like he’s not ridiculously attractive. gonna chew on steel

[niinnyu]

Major implied Witch Hat Atelier spoilers! Don't spoil it for yourself!

A coward.

[ghostinhouse]

ok here are a bunch of 'yao e zi on langjie' au headcanons that are going to make me sound kinda crazy. disclaimer i dont watch a lot of langjie so if it's like... wrong, then imagine this is how langjie is going to be in the future?? idk

yao e zi would get invited to langjie several times but only agrees to the offer like on the 3rd time or something. she'd be one of the youngest in the season (32-35yo when she joins) but give off a more mature vibe bc of her calm (first impression at least) demeanor.

first solo performance? one of her hits definitely whatever that is. one standing mic, opera gloves, long flowy dress, showing shoulders, hair down, dark butterfly mask. people expect her to "subvert expectations" and dance but she doesn't do that for the first performance. she does what she does best and she does it flawlessly.

she doesn't volunteer to be leader. she gets sought out for teams that want to do a vocal-focused performance for the first round, and she'd probably say yes, but starting round 2 she would join like the sing/dance groups. right... right.... and it's gonna be one of those choreography like 佳人

i think she would fit these types of performances best: sad vocal performances; coquettish & sensual sing/dance performances with traditional elements.

she tries to avoid the fast and snappy choreography stuff, but also any "cutesy" song, she feels like she can't pull of the cutesy demeanor (she's wrong).

expect a lot of clickbaity posts about her removing her mask after the show airs. like "YAO E ZI REMOVED HER MASK IN THE LATEST SISTER MAKES WAVES EPISODE" and then in the actual episode it's just her walking out of the bathroom wearing like a moisturizing face mask with a butterfly print

she seems like the type that doesnt go on variety shows after her initial debut on a singing show; like she's been focusing on concerts and producing music. so ppl will recognize her as "the butterfly mask singer" that stuns the nation years ago but otherwise not won't be too familiar w her discography/story

so her participation in the show would re-spark the public's curiosity with her appearance "under the mask". her fandom would have to come out and be like "yeah give it up no one knows. also you shouldn't care to know. also she has really beautiful butterfly mask designs focus on that instead"

the show itself will secretly feed that curiosity (m*ngotv behavior) but at least doesn't deliver false promises of showing her under the mask—because she+her team wont let them lol. the show protects her identity well but mostly so that they can further play up her mystique

anyway not all of her masks covers ALL of her face but her mua is pretty good at doing make up that makes her look completely different (a 爆改 expert). as the season progresses the public thankfully refocuses their attention onto her mask designs, which is regarded with fondness among her fandom, not unlike how shengmis treat zs's microphones.

and while she has her own set of masks that the fandom are familiar with prior to the show, yao e zi gets a new & custom butterfly mask every she's in for the duration of langjie (she uses her regular ones backstage/rehearsal/etc).

due to her identity she gets her own bedroom which is not rigged with cameras. which spiked a mini-discourse about the show's bias toward her, which show producers responded to by showing yao e zi's bedroom (with her permission) which is pretty small compared to the shared dorm, then the discourse died down. anyway it doesn't even matter because she's literally only there to sleep like she spends most of her time awake in the communal space rehearsing or sth

idk how to explain it but if xiao tangyuan goes on other variety shows they Could take the mask off but yao e zi would always keep the mask on

i was in my yao e zi stan era

[thebrainrotsreal]

EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK, EVIL MARK!!! I want to be coherent about this season but please picture me foaming at the mouth and running on the walls. S2 being what if Mark's just like his Dad? Insanity. I love this show. Anyways, AU where an Evil!Mark tries to make Our!Mark worse, and Our!Mark tries to make the other better. Something something confronting your idea of the worst version of oneself. Plus, tweaked black and yellow costume because I saw it and immediately went murder hornet lookin' ass and knew I had to draw it. Evil ass Mark. Horrible. I think he should be dragged kicking and screaming into redemption.

[gbirrd]

DUN-DUH-DUH-DUUUUHN!

suprise! i've been working as part of ANOTHER Bang! I paired up once again with the delightful @englandamericaitaly to create this piece for their fic as part of the @dpxdcbigbang !

you can read their fic here- a really fun read, and of course I drew the scene with my boy Duke. we gotta step up folks! not enough art of this weird little daylight-loving freak out here!

Image ID:

A drawing of a very dark train tunnel, with a rail track stretching down from the top towards the bottom of the image. At the top of the piece near the back of the tunnel is Duke Thomas in his Signal armour, giving off a strong yellow glow as he is crouched over Clayface, arm raised in a fist to punch him as his head is raised to look up with glowing eyes. Clayface's hand is wrapped around Duke trying to pull him off. At the bottom of the page near the front of the tracks, Jazz Fenton stands facing Duke with a faint green glow. Three shadowy figures stand behind her. In the top right corner there is a close-up panel of Jazz's eyes, in all green, and mirroring it in the bottom left are Duke's eyes in all yellow.