#my trans ass is pondering

[lesbian-phoenix]

they should’ve let William Finley play a vampire

[comradecowplant]

absolutely love how Dax saw Pel giving Quark the eye without clocking she's a female and immediately was like "aw, that lil Ferenengi dude gay as hell ❤"

[supernaturalscribe67]

Destiny

Words: 7,528

POV: 3rd Person

Pairing: Gabriel x Male!Winchester!Reader

Warning(s): Fluff, Slight Angst (if you squint), Language, Brotherly Drama/Teasing, Sexual Innuendos

Summary: (Y/N) Winchester never thought he would have to play a prominent role in the fight between Michael and Lucifer, but when Gabriel's attempt at convincing Sam and Dean to accept their destiny fails, (Y/N) is left pondering the situation at hand. What happens when Gabriel reveals the truth behind his disappearance from Heaven and his own role in the fight?

Heavily Inspired by S5.8 "Changing Channels"

Request:

Hey!! I was hoping you would be able to do this request.

It could feature hurt/comfort, angst, and fluff :)

Gabriel x Winchester!Reader

He could be trans or cis, up to you.

There was a younger Winchester brother, and with 3 full blooded Winchesters meant of course, a 3rd vessel. Gabriel's vessle. You both aren't keen on the idea of possession and end up falling for each other? Destiny had brought them together for battle but their hearts yearned for something else.

(something along those lines atleast)

:D

@genekies

A/N: I've sat here for the last ten minutes staring at the Summary because my brain is non-existent right now. Anyway, I really hope you enjoy this! Sorry it's so late! I also hope you don't mind that I changed the 'younger' Winchester to a middle Winchester~ I enjoyed writing something cute and fluffy after that heavy story I posted! Feedback is appreciated!

~ Much Love!

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.

“Son of a bitch.” 

“It’s him. It’s Doctor Sexy.” 

“Nutcracker!”

“I’ve got genital herpes.”

(Y/N) blamed himself for this. Why he thought any hunt he and his brothers did would be normal was beyond him. When was anything the Winchesters did ever normal?

He could count on one hand the number of times he’d encountered tricksters, none of them pleasant. Still, something about this trickster was different. Slight abnormalities in the realm of possibilities, Sam, Dean, and Castiel all agreed, Castiel seeming to know more than them, but unable to voice his thoughts before being whisked away by said ‘trickster’. From there, the Winchester brothers were tossed from TV show to TV show, enduring humiliation and awkward conversation. It wasn’t until Sam was transformed into the Impala that it clicked. 

It wasn’t a trickster. It was an angel. 

That was how they ended up in an abandoned warehouse, the angel stood in the center of a ring of Holy Fire. (Y/N) tried to hide the exhaustion on his face that resulted from their hectic escapades. What he would kill to go back to their motel, crawl under the scratchy covers, and go to sleep. 

“Where’s you get the Holy Oil?” The angel asked, a small smirk playing on the corner of his lips. 

“Well, I guess you could say we pulled it out of Sam’s ass,” Dean replied, straight-faced. 

Sam clenched his jaw and sent a death glare towards him. (Y/N) snickered, earning him the same glare. He pressed his lips together, mumbled a faint ‘sorry’ under his breath, and turned his attention back towards the wannabe trickster. 

The smirk he had vanished. “Where’d I screw up?” He asked. 

“You didn’t,” Sam shook his head. “Nobody gets a jump on Cas like you did.” 

“It was the way you talked about Armageddon,” Dean explained. 

“Meaning?” The angel furrowed his brows. 

“Well, call it personal experience, but nobody gets that angry unless they’re talking about their own family.” 

The angel looked away and lowered his head, a silent confirmation of their suspicions. 

“So, which one are you?” Sam cocked his head to the side. “Grumpy, Sneezy, or Douchey?” 

(Y/N) bit the inside of his cheeks, lowering his head to hide the small smile that appeared. Despite the gravity of the situation, he had to admit that Sam’s question was a little funny. He blamed it on him being tired. He was quick to erase the expression off his face before lifting his head. The angel’s gaze shifted over to Sam, and he hesitated for a moment.

“Gabriel, okay? They call me Gabriel.” 

“The archangel?” Sam asked. 

“Guilty.” 

“Okay, Gabriel. How does an archangel become a trickster?” Dean questioned. 

Gabriel shifted. “I consider it my own, private Witness Protection. I skipped out of Heaven, got a face transplant, and carved out my own little corner of the world. Until you three screwed it up,” his tone was full of irritation. 

(Y/N), Sam, and Dean shared a glance, almost as if communicating telepathically with one another - something they had become accustomed to growing up. While they knew significant details about the conflict between the archangels Michael and Lucifer, it seemed, to them, that the situation ran a lot deeper than it originally appeared. 

“So, boys, now what?” Gabriel’s voice broke them out of their trance. “Are we just going to stare at each other for the rest of eternity?” 

Dean licked his lips. ‘Well, first of all, you’re going to bring Cas back from wherever you stashed him.” 

“Oh, am I?”

“Yeah, or we’re going to dunk you in some Holy Oil and deep-fry ourselves an archangel.” 

Gabriel clenched his jaw, looking over at Sam, then at (Y/N). All of them shared the same serious expression. Poking his tongue into his cheek, he raised a hand and snapped his fingers. Shuffling could be heard behind the trio as they turned their heads to see a disheveled Castiel. His hair was more ruffled than usual, and a small cut ran across the bridge of his nose. Blood was splattered on the collar of his trenchcoat. He stumbled slightly. 

“Cas, you okay?” (Y/N) asked. 

“I’m fine,” Castiel replied, his icy gaze locked on Gabriel. “Hello, Gabriel.” 

Gabriel lowered his hand, crossed his arms over his chest, and smiled tightly. “Hey, bro. How’s the search for Daddy going? Let me guess. Awful,” Gabriel’s tone was harsh. 

The tension was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. It was obvious that there was more going on in Heaven than the Winchesters were led to believe. Multiple sides mean multiple stories. Who knows what really happened? 

“Alright, let’s get out of here. Sam, (Y/N)?” Dean slowly started to step towards the exit. 

Sam was the first to move, while (Y/N) seemed hesitant. In the end, he, too, turned his back on Gabriel and made his way towards his brothers. Castiel soon followed. 

“No,” Gabriel muttered. “Okay…hey, guys, so…” he stumbled over his words. “So what, huh? You’re just, you’re just gonna leave me here forever?” 

When the group reached the door, they all turned back to him. 

“No,” Dean began. “We’re not, because we don’t screw with people the way you do. And, for the record, this isn’t about some prize fight between your brothers or some destiny that can’t be stopped. This is about you being too afraid to stand up to your family.” 

Gabriel opened his mouth, as if to object, but stopped himself. He lowered his head in shame, turning his back to them. Wordlessly, Dean looked back, spotting a fire alarm on the wall. He easily broke the glass surrounding the alarm and pulled the handle. A shrill, faded sound echoed within the broken building. As Gabriel looked up, the aged sprinkler system burst open, showering him with cold water. Gabriel gazed at them, his face filled with defeat. 

“Don’t say I’ve never done anything for you,” Dean called out over the sound of the alarm. 

With that, Sam, Dean, and Castiel turned their backs one last time on Gabriel, walking out of the building. (Y/N), however, stayed put, his eyes locked onto Gabriel’s. He studied the look of hurt on his face, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel a slight pang of guilt. A part of him wanted to say something, to turn around and provide him with some type of comfort. They didn’t know what Gabriel was going through, nor what had caused him to leave Heaven in the first place. Perhaps, all he needed was someone to be there. To allow him to be heard. (Y/N) could relate to that feeling. Alas, as the ring of Holy Fire began to dissipate, over the blaring sound of the alarm, he could hear the faint shout of his older brother calling out his name. (Y/N) looked at the warehouse door, the breeze from the early morning shifting his wetting hair, then back to Gabriel. For a moment, he cast an apologetic look his way before he, swiftly, left the building. 

*~*

A couple of weeks after the incident with Gabriel, (Y/N) couldn’t seem to keep his thoughts at bay. Although his brothers had all since left the interaction behind them, refocusing their attention on their odd hunting jobs, (Y/N) couldn’t shake the reminder of the expression on Gabriel’s face. He had taken the time to carefully consider what Gabriel had been going through, or what he had been through before he had left Heaven. Sure, he wasn’t aware of the extent of it all, but he could sure sympathize with how it felt to be stuck between his brothers during their spats. Sam and Dean never threatened the sanctity of Heaven over their problems, but still. 

(Y/N) had taken many walks since then, because sleep had been so easily unobtainable. On nights when Sam and Dean slept soundly on their motel room beds - or couch, depending on who lost in the coin toss - (Y/N) would slink out of the room into the night. Alternatively, in the morning, if sleep didn’t come after the first walk, he would go on another, ultimately stopping for breakfast on his way back to the motel to appease his brothers. 

Sam and Dean were none the wiser. 

On those walks, his mind would always shift to Gabriel and the predicament he was in. In a way, he disagreed with what Dean had said to Gabriel. But, with everything that was said by Gabriel, himself, he partially agreed with it as well. Why was Gabriel so adamant about Sam and Dean allowing Lucifer and Michael to take possession of them for a fight that he wasn’t even willing to fight himself? He felt so in the dark about the whole debacle. Although he wasn’t directly involved in it, he was still interested to know what the fate of his brothers could be. It was thoughts and questions like those that kept his mind racing in the early hours of the morning, making him unable to get an adequate amount of sleep. 

That night was no different. The three of them had traveled to a town along the East Coast, following the clues of a possible Wendigo. The case had just started, and the interviews and clues left much to be desired. They weren’t even close to pinpointing the approximate area in the nearby woodland where it could reside. Sam and Dean were running thin, and (Y/N) was no help. Not with the way his mind had been racing lately. It wasn’t like he could help it, though. He tried, he did, and a part of him couldn’t see how Sam and Dean were able to concentrate whilst everything was going on in Heaven. He had always envied them for their sense of focus, something he lacked greatly at times. When he started the walks, clearing his mind was his initial goal, but going out on his own, in the dead of night, only seemed to make his thoughts louder. 

The town was small, and barely had much of a park, just some cheap playground equipment that looked as if it needed to be updated and a small trail. (Y/N) was thankful for the benches that were laid along the path. Despite the park’s size, it had a beautiful view; a full panoramic of the deep, dark ocean past craggy cliffs, cut off by a steel fence. The ocean was loud and, despite the distance from the land to the sea, mist sprayed (Y/N)’s face faintly, painting his features with minuscule water droplets. He had worn a jacket that night. Even though it was surprisingly hot during the day, as soon as the sun dropped, the temperatures did as well. 

(Y/N) had been sat on the bench for close to an hour. If he had to guess, it was nearly midnight. Not once had he been able to keep Gabriel out of his mind. Gabriel, the fight, Sam, and Dean, all took turns at the forefront of his brain, but Gabriel won most of the time. He always drifted to the sad, kicked puppy-dog look he had before he left. He couldn’t imagine what Gabriel had to go through. (Y/N) thought Sam and Dean were impossible to be with all the time, but he couldn’t fathom being near Michael and Lucifer as much as Gabriel must have. He must have been quite burnt out. 

“Do you mind if I sit here?” A voice jerked (Y/N) from his train of thought. 

(Y/N) jumped, eyes wide as he looked towards the direction of the voice. Stood, about a foot away from the bench, was Gabriel. His expression was soft, his brown hair partially damp, the locks illuminated slightly by the nearby street lamp. Once his heart rate began to return to normal, (Y/N) nodded and gestured towards the empty seat next to him. 

“Sure,” he mumbled. 

With a short nod, Gabriel shuffled over and sat down, leaning against the back of the bench. His legs were slightly spread and his hands were clasped together in his lap. For a moment, the two of them sat in silence, listening to the sound of the crashing waves from below. Even though Gabriel had done so much to the Winchesters as a part of his trickster ‘Witness Protection’, (Y/N) didn’t feel any resentment towards him, nor did he feel agitation, even with his proximity. A part of him thought he should be, that was how Dean would react, at least. Shouldn’t he be at least a little bit pissed? Perhaps it was the weeks of thinking, working the idea into his head that he and Gabriel could, potentially, have more in common than he originally thought. It could be that he was more forgiving than his brother. In the end, (Y/N) chalked it up to him being a great judge of character. 

“How did you find me?” (Y/N) broke the silence. 

“What?” Gabriel asked. 

“How did you find me? These symbols, or whatever, Cas put on my ribs were supposed to stop angels from being able to find me. Or did he just tattoo my ribs for nothing?” 

Gabriel let out a faint chuckle and shook his head. “I admit, you were hard to find. All I did, though, was follow the sound of your prayers. They were quieter than most, but they were still noticeable.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel, confused. “Prayers? I didn’t pray to you.” 

“I guess not technically. I know that wasn’t your intention half the time, but, every time you thought of me, asked those questions, made those statements, it was as if you did.” 

(Y/N) pursed his lips and gave a faint nod. “I see…”

They were, once again, engulfed in silence as they stared out onto the water. No one said anything. Surprisingly, it was peaceful.

“I guess I should be asking why you found me. Why are you here, Gabriel?” (Y/N) asked. 

Gabriel hesitated for a moment, fumbling with his fingers. “Look, I’m not good at this sort of thing, but…” he trailed. “I thought I should come here and apologize. For everything.” 

(Y/N) looked over at Gabriel as he placed his hands into his jacket pockets and leaned back against the bench. “Shouldn’t you be apologizing to Sam and Dean, too?” 

Gabriel snorted. “Are you kidding? Those two would probably stab me before I even had the chance to say anything.” 

(Y/N) smirked. “I guess you’re right. The fact that you were practically hounding them to accept being Michael and Lucifer’s vessels doesn’t help your case either.” 

“Yeah, I realized that I probably went about it the wrong way.” 

“Probably?” 

“Okay, I definitely went about it the wrong way.” 

“That’s putting it lightly.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Why the fight, Gabriel? I mean, why now?” 

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Michael and Luci have been going at it for centuries. Even before this fight, they were at each other’s throats half the time.” he began to rub his fingers together. “But, this fight…it wasn’t originally supposed to only be those two.” 

(Y/N) furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Gabriel stuttered before he stood up. Slowly, he began to pace back and forth in front of (Y/N), looking between the ground and his hands. “You know what it’s like, right? Your brothers are arguing about the dumbest things and they’ve been going at it for a while, getting a little carried away, so you have to step in and, um,” 

“Be the mediator?” 

“Yeah! You have to try and calm them down so they don’t kill each other?” 

“Well, yeah, I’ve had to do that plenty of times with Sam and Dean.” 

“Right. Back then, I had to do the same thing with Michael and Luci. Sometimes it worked, and other times, not so much. With this fight, that’s what I was supposed to do.” 

“Wait, this fight that they want to use Sam and Dean for? How’re you supposed to mediate that?” 

“I was just supposed to make sure they didn’t actually kill each other. Try to get them to talk it out. I’ve always been good at that, so it would only make sense that I would take a crack at it this go around. However, since they would be at their full power in their vessels, the last thing that needed to happen was for them to turn on me, kill me, and then each other. So, to make sure I had enough power, I, also, have to have a vessel.” 

Gabriel stopped pacing in front of him and finally faced him, his hands together in front of him. (Y/N) stared at him intently, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was as if Gabriel could see the gears working in his mind. If Michael needed a vessel, which was Dean, and Lucifer needed a vessel, which was Sam, then, that meant…

(Y/N)’s eyes widened. “Am I your vessel?” He breathed. 

“Ding, ding, ding! We have a winner!” Gabriel smirked, although it wasn’t as confident as the one he had when he was covered by his trickster persona. 

(Y/N)’s mouth sat agape. He was gobsmacked. His lips moved up and down as he tried to form words, but his mind nor mouth would work. It all made sense, though. Why would Sam and Dean be the only vessels? Why had he never considered that he, too, was destined to be one? It was clear as glass, yet, the thought never crossed his mind. 

“You know, when you think about it, it kind of makes sense that you’re my vessel. I mean, you’re the mediator, I’m the mediator. You’re the middle child, I’m practically the middle child. There are, actually, a lot of similarities between you and me. So, it was a great pick,” Gabriel rambled, placing his hands on his hips.

(Y/N) help his hand up. “Gabriel, just…stop.” 

Gabriel looked down and cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he pursed his lips. 

(Y/N) sat there and attempted to wrap his head around the whole situation. His thoughts were foggy and the front of his head was starting to pound. He reached his hands up and began to massage his temples. 

“So, what you’re saying,” (Y/N) let out a breathy chuckle. “Is that you, the archangel Gabriel, are supposed to use me as a mediator for your two power-hungry brothers who, may I remind you, are also archangels?” 

Slowly, Gabriel nodded. “Basically.” 

“And you think this is a good idea?” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“What?” 

Gabriel sighed. “Look,” He returned to his spot on the bench next to (Y/N), his body now facing him. “The times when my mediation did work was when they had their smaller fights. Little bickers here and there. When Michael and Luci are really, really mad at each other, nothing can get between them. So, most likely, what would happen is I would need to get involved in the fight to stop them.” 

“Oh, God,” (Y/N) grumbled and placed his face into his hands.

“But, believe me, that is the last thing I want to do. I mean, Michael and Luci, they’re both strong on their own, but, if they were to team up against me for trying to stop them, even with you as my vessel, I don’t stand a chance. It would be two against one.” 

(Y/N) just nodded, running his hands down his face, his gaze returning to the cool, pounding waves. A chill ran down his spine. He hadn’t realized how cold he had gotten, what with the mix of wind and misty air.

“Why are you telling me this now?” He asked quietly. “Why wasn’t I told any of this before?” 

“Well, when I went off the grid, everyone just assumed that it was my way of backing out of the fight. In a way, I guess they were right.” 

“And back at the warehouse? Why didn’t you tell me then?”

“Because I still had no intention of joining the fight. However, after what Dean had said to me…” Gabriel shook his head. “I realized that he was right. I am a coward. I tried to push your brothers into accepting their roles as vessels because I want this fight to be done and over with. I just wish the fight didn’t have to happen. I figured it would be wrong if I didn’t tell you now. You deserve to know.” 

“Well, I appreciate that. And, for the record, I don’t want this fight to happen either. The last thing I want is my brothers to get involved in something that has nothing to do with them.”

“The fight’s gonna happen one way or another, and I thought getting your brothers to go along would be the best way to go about it. Once I listened to your prayers, though, I realized how it would affect you. I know you wouldn’t want to lose either one of your brothers, even though they can be assholes sometimes.” 

(Y/N) snorted. “Like you’re one to talk.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, unlike your brothers, mine can be caring and nice when they want to be.” 

“Believe it or not, Michael and Luci both have the capability of being nice! I witnessed it firsthand.” 

“Bullshit!” 

“It’s not! Granted, they were a whole lot nicer when they were fledglings, kind of got a little rocky as they got older, but they could still be nice!” 

“Wait, wait, wait, fledglings?” 

“Yeah.”

“What’re fledglings?” 

“Newborn angels.”

“So…baby angels?” 

“In a sense,” Gabriel shrugged. A mischievous smirk then appeared at the corner of his lips. “Do you want to hear some embarrassing stories about when Michael and Luci were younger?” 

“Of course I do,” (Y/N) sat back, turning his body to face Gabriel as well. 

“Okay, but, in return, you have to tell me some embarrassing stories about your brothers.”

(Y/N) bit his lip as he contemplated the offer. Finally, he smirked. “Deal.” 

For the next while, Gabriel and (Y/N) went back and forth, sharing their embarrassing stories from their abnormal families. They joked, laughed, and, overall, had a good time. Not only did it lighten the mood from the bombshell Gabriel had dropped, but it allowed them to grasp a basic understanding of their past and present lives. 

There were a few things (Y/N) learned throughout their conversation. One; Gabriel and his brothers shared some scary similarities with the Winchesters in regards to mannerisms and attitudes. Two; Gabriel could talk for a millenia if he was given the opportunity. And three; (Y/N) felt oddly calm around Gabriel. It hadn’t even struck him how easily Gabriel was able to shift the conversation as smoothly as he did. (Y/N) wasn’t too sure how he could feel that way around him. As they sat there and talked, after everything that was said, and after everything that happened with the warehouse incident - he’ll never forget the nutcracker - he couldn’t help but feel a strong sense of comfort around him. There was something about Gabriel that filled (Y/N) with a sense of peace and belonging, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it as to why that was. 

It wasn’t like he was complaining, though. 

They talked until the moon sat near the far end of the sky. Unbeknownst to them, the two had begun to scoot closer to one another as the conversation continued, getting to the point where their knees and shoulders were touching. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward. Neither of them pulled away out of instinct. It felt right. It felt natural. 

Gabriel droned on and on about, yet, another story when Lucifer was a young angel. He seemed to have more stories about him than he did of Michael. (Y/N) was quite the opposite. He had more stories about Dean than he did with Sam. Both of them laughed as Gabriel tried his best to continue. 

“So - so Dad got angry because Lucifer kept letting the bugs out of their sanctuary, and -” Gabriel looked over at (Y/N), and his smile vanished. 

(Y/N) glanced up at him, noticing the change of demeanor instantly. His smile, too, disappeared. “Is something wrong?” 

As he kept his eye on him, Gabriel reached up and gently brushed his thumb against (Y/N)’s bottom lip. (Y/N) felt his cheeks heat up and his brows furrow in confusion. 

“Your lips are blue,” Gabriel stated. He glanced up at the sky and his brows shot up. “I am so sorry. I didn’t realize we had been out here so long.” Gabriel sat up. 

“How long how we been out here?” (Y/N) dug into his pocket and pulled out his phone. 

3:27 AM

“Oh shit,” he mumbled as he quickly stood up. 

His legs and ass were completely numb, causing him to sway at the rapid movement. Gabriel was by his side in an instant, hands on his shoulders to steady him. They had been out together for, close to, four hours. No wonder (Y/N)’s lips were blue. He shivered, teeth chattering lightly. Once (Y/N) was able to stand on his own, Gabriel took off his jacket and draped it over (Y/N)’s shoulders. (Y/N) shook his head. 

“Oh, no, Gabriel, it’s okay. I just need to get back to the motel.” He stuttered tiredly. 

“I’m the reason you were out here for so long. Consider it a, um, token of my appreciation for talking to me,” Gabriel smiled sweetly.

(Y/N) returned the smile. “Well, thank you for keeping me company.” 

“Let me take you back to the motel.” 

“No. If Sam and Dean see you, they’ll kill you and then me.”

“Then I won’t let them see me.”

Without another word, Gabriel reached up and pressed his index and middle fingers against (Y/N)’s forehead. (Y/N) inhaled shakily and closed his eyes. One second, he was standing in the park, then, the next, he and Gabriel were standing in front of the Winchester’s motel room. He breathed a sigh of relief once he saw the faded numbers etched onto the door. 

“Thank you,” he smiled and retrieved the key from his pocket. 

“Anytime. And, uh, if you ever feel the need to talk again under better weather conditions, feel free to pray. When the prayers are sent directly to me, it’s a lot easier for me to hear.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“Now go warm up.”

(Y/N) flashed Gabriel one last smile as he turned the key to the room and opened the door. Gabriel vanished. 

Moonlight pooled in through the cracked door as (Y/N) crept into the room. He felt the warmth flood his face and hands as he entered. Despite the heavy jacket he had gone out with, having spent hours in the windy, misty park, he was bound to get cold eventually. He didn’t think he would get that cold, though.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see Sam sleeping soundly on his stomach, face nuzzled against the cheap pillow, and Dean sprawled out on the couch, legs and arms spread in uncomfortable positions that he would undoubtedly complain about the next day, mouth slightly open, and drool coating his chin and pillow. (Y/N) was thankful for his stealth ability.

Slowly, he made his way over to the unoccupied bed and crawled underneath the covers. Not bothering to change his clothes or take off his shoes, he nestled into the thick - yet somehow extremely thin - comforter. His eyes closed as soon as his head hit the pillow.

*~*

That was the best night’s sleep he had gotten in ages. 

Well, it would have been, had he not been awoken by a flying pillow to the face.

(Y/N) groaned as he opened his eyes ever so slightly. The sunlight beamed in through the window, caressing his skin, and he hated it. He glanced tiredly in the direction that the pillow came from and found Dean with an amused grin spread across his lips.

“Mornin’ sunshine,” Dean greeted.

“Fuck off,” (Y/N) grunted as he grabbed the pillow and chucked it lazily back at him. He missed terribly. 

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed,” Sam teased as he sat a cup of steaming coffee on the nightstand next to (Y/N).

“Thanks,” he mumbled and sat up. “And I just got a pillow thrown at my face, am I supposed to jump for joy and sing Kumbaya?” 

“Are you sure it’s the pillow and has nothing to do with you getting back so late?” Dean quirked a brow.

(Y/N) went to reach for the coffee cup, but stopped himself. He glanced at Dean, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. “How do you know about that?” 

“Well, one, you’re wearing the exact same thing you were wearing yesterday, plus you wore your shoes to bed. Two, I heard you getting back last night,”

“Bullshit. You were passed out.”

“Do you realize how loud you stumbled in? I’m surprised Sammy didn’t wake up because of it. My third point, though,” Dean pointed down to his brother’s chest. “That’s not your jacket. So…did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) looked down at himself and his brows raised. He was still wearing Gabriel’s jacket. He had been so tired and cold last night that he had completely forgotten to take it off or even give it back. He reached up and played with the collar gently. He had to remember to thank Gabriel for giving it to him.

Oh, wait, prayers! Thank you for the jacket, Gabriel!

“Well?” Dean pressed.

“Huh?” (Y/N) looked over at him. 

“Did you get lucky?” 

(Y/N) snorted. “If I got lucky, do you think I would be here right now?”

“Not unless it was bad.”

“Would that mean I still got ‘lucky’ if it was bad? What kind of luck is that?” 

“You’re dodging the question.”

(Y/N) rolled his eyes. “No, Dean, I didn’t get lucky.”

“Then who’d you meet?” Sam asked.

“Why does it matter?” (Y/N) questioned.

“Because you’re smiling,” Dean pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee. “And you don’t smile like that normally. It’s kind of freaky.”

“Oh, fuck off, Dean,”

(Y/N) hadn’t even realized he had been smiling, but he could hear it in his voice. Dean was right, it had been ages since he had smiled like that. His cheeks were starting to hurt. He reached over, took a sip of his coffee, then put it down. He stood up from his spot on the bed and stretched his aching muscles.

“So,” Dean pursed his lips. “Who was it?”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you, Dean?”

“Nope,” Dean popped.

(Y/N) shook his head. “It was just this guy that I met at the bar. He bought me a drink, we sat and talked and, when the bar closed, we went to the nearest park and continued our talk.”

Dean’s smirk faltered and was replaced with a frown. “That’s it? You just…talked?” 

“Yeah,” (Y/N) shrugged.

“You’re more boring than Sam,”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

“What do you want me to say, Dean? ‘I found this guy at the bar, we went to the park, I gave him head, he gave me a twenty, said ‘no homo’, and walked away’?” (Y/N) asked. 

“Well, that would have been a hell of a lot more entertaining than ‘we just talked’.”

(Y/N) waved him off. “Whatever,” he mumbled, then kicked his shoes off.

Sam took a sip of his coffee and cleared his throat. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable. We’re gonna go look for that Wendigo.”

“I’m taking a shower before we go, so…” (Y/N) stuck his tongue out at Sam.

Sam smirked and shook his head as (Y/N) gathered some of his clothes from his duffel bag. Without another word, he vanished into the bathroom.

*~*

(Y/N) was sick for a week after that. As it turns out, cold air and wet hair don’t necessarily mix well. At first, he tried to push through it, but fatigue and a sore throat caught up to him and left him on research duty for the duration of the Wendigo hunt. During that time, whenever Sam and Dean were out looking for clues, leaving him alone in the stuffy motel room, he would pray to Gabriel. Gabriel would be quick to respond.

The two would sit and talk for hours, idle chit-chat here and there, and would always seem to dance around the topic of the fight one way or another. Those talks continued well after (Y/N) felt better and the Wendigo hunt concluded. (Y/N) resumed his nightly walks, and Gabriel would accompany him. In the mornings, when Sam and Dean would occasionally catch onto (Y/N)’s disappearing acts, he would play it off as a spontaneous trip to the local bar scene, fabricating stories about meeting a dreamy man he would talk to or go back to his place. It wasn’t a complete lie, so he didn’t feel as bad when he told them. 

As the months went on, (Y/N) could feel himself growing fonder of Gabriel. It was a strong feeling. Is that what love felt like? He could only assume. Yet, the feeling was more than that. He felt connected to him in a much stronger sense of the word. A spiritual sense, perhaps? He couldn’t quite pinpoint the cause of those feelings, but the last thing he was going to do was fight himself on them, despite how obvious it was that his brothers would disapprove of his relationship with Gabriel. That’s what secrets were for. He had gone long enough without telling them, what’s a couple more months or years?

Whenever they were together, (Y/N) felt whole, as if a lost piece of a puzzle he didn’t even know he had found its way to him. When he was with his brothers, or by himself, he found his mind constantly shifting to thoughts of Gabriel. Of what they would talk about, of Gabriel’s smile, of the way his stomach would turn whenever they stood or sat close to one another. He would crave his presence, desperate to hear the sound of his voice. It was killing him, slowly, from the inside out, and he knew if he didn’t say anything soon, he would combust. He had to tell Gabriel his feelings.

One thing he loved about small towns was the lack of artificial lights. Sure, there were dull street lamps scattered around that looked as if they needed to be changed years ago, but the absence of skyscrapers and people, overall, meant not much was needed to illuminate the roads. Locals knew them like the back of their hand anyway. With the minimal light, almost anywhere in town, you could see the stars that decorated the night sky. If you wanted, you could pick out each constellation. Orion’s Belt and the Big Dipper were rather prominent that night.

There were several smaller parks in town, but the biggest sat in the middle of downtown. It wasn’t used as a children’s area as much as a casual gathering ground. (Y/N) could imagine dogs in the grass and elderly couples walking arm-in-arm during the daylight hours. By night, it was abandoned, the distant sound of country music playing from the only local bar. It was the perfect place for him and Gabriel to meet.

They sat on a bench in the middle of the park, heads tilted back as they stared at the stars. Their sides and legs were pressed together, and, for the first time in a while, they said nothing. Normally, their meetings were filled with lively conversation from the moment they saw each other to the moment they parted. (Y/N) had to wonder if Gabriel could tell that he wanted to have a serious discussion. Perhaps he had a lot on his mind. Or, perhaps, Gabriel was too busy reading (Y/N)’s to say anything. Regardless, they had been sat there for close to half an hour without as much as a single word to each other. (Y/N) knew just sitting there wasn’t going to do any good. He had to bite the bullet and say something. 

“Gabriel?” He started, his voice coming out small and quiet.

Gabriel hummed. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,”

(Y/N) hesitated. “Well, first of all, I just wanted to say that I like spending time with you.” He began to fiddle with his fingers. “And I don’t want what I’m about to ask to make our meetings stop.”

“Honestly, I think, at this point, the only thing that you can ask to make our meetings stop is ‘Hey, can our meetings stop?’.”

(Y/N) chuckled lightly. “Gabe, I’m being serious.”

“So am I,” he smirked.

“Well, um…” he paused. “Do you ever feel like we’re connected in other ways?”

Gabriel furrowed his brows. He turned his body to face (Y/N), rested his elbow on the back of the bench, and placed his cheek into his hand. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, to be honest. I mean, it feels like…more.”

Gabriel studied (Y/N)’s face, noticing his lack of eye contact. He stayed quiet for a moment, and (Y/N) could feel the anxiety building inside of him. He knew he did a piss poor job at explaining what he meant, but it was the best he could come up with. Slowly, Gabriel smirked.

“You have a crush on me, don’t you?” He teased.

(Y/N)’s eyes widened and the heat rose to his cheeks. He glanced over at Gabriel, then back down at his lap. 

“I, well…I’m not…I- that’s not the point, okay!?” (Y/N) shook his head. “The point is that it doesn’t feel like just a crush to me. It feels like an even deeper connection than that. Like something about our souls and- nevermind, this just sounds stupid,” his shoulders deflated in defeat.

Gabriel waved his hands and shook his head. “Hey, hey, it’s not stupid, alright? I get what you’re saying. You feel as if we’re connected by something other than you just being my vessel.”

(Y/N) nodded and let out a shaky breath. “Yeah, exactly.”

“I feel it, too.”

“You do?”

“I mean, yeah,” Gabriel folded his hands in his lap. “I felt that when we first saw each other, even before the warehouse. Then, everything with your brothers happened, and we met again, and, still,  I felt that connection.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought I was looking too hard into it. I started thinking that, maybe, the connection was all in my head. That it was, truly, just our connection by you being my vessel. When Dean said what he did about me being too afraid to face my family, I thought no one would understand my point of view on the fight. What I’ve had to go through being related to Michael and Lucifer. Then, you started to pray to me, and I knew that you understood me. That’s what made me come find you in the first place. Once we were alone, I felt this sense of…peace. I hate to admit it, but I feel like I can barely go a single day without wanting to see you. Without needing to see you. I knew it was more at that point.”

(Y/N)’s eyes were on Gabriel as he listened intently to what he was saying. He shook his head. “I feel the same way. It’s almost as if, I don’t know, I can’t breathe when you’re not around.”

“Well, please don’t stop on my account.”

“Stop it, we’re having a serious moment,” (Y/N) slapped his arm.

“Sorry, sorry,” Gabriel smirked. “I mean, as cliche as it sounds, it feels, almost as if we were meant for each other, right? Like we were meant to be together? Almost as if it was more than you being my vessel that bought us together.”

Gabriel reached over and grabbed (Y/N)’s hand, rubbing the side of it gently with his thumb. (Y/N) looked into Gabriel’s eyes, and he felt his heart soar. He reached up and caressed his cheek before they both leaned in, their lips fitting together perfectly in a sweet, loving kiss. Their eyes closed, and they both melted into a deep, sensual embrace. Almost immediately, all of the stress and worry seemingly melted away, replaced with a sense of belonging. A sense of closeness.

When they pulled back, they looked into each other’s eyes once more. A small smile creased the corner of (Y/N)’s lips.

“You’re right, it is pretty cheesy.” He whispered, his thumb tracing circles around Gabriel’s cheekbone.

Gabriel cocked a brow. “I thought we were having a serious conversation. Why do you get to make quips?”

“It’s kind of hard not to when I’m around you.” (Y/N) pressed his forehead against Gabriel’s.

Gabriel chuckled. “I guess I’m rubbing off on you, aren’t I?” He moved his hands to (Y/N)’s hips.

“I don’t see that as a bad thing.”

They sat together and enjoyed the peaceful quiet of their embrace. (Y/N) never felt more relaxed in his entire life, and he wanted to savor every moment he had with Gabriel.

Then, his mind started to drift. Drift to the fight, the battle between Michael and Lucifer, and to Sam and Dean. Gabriel had done such a good job at keeping him distracted from all the chaos that surrounded him that he hadn’t even had a chance to consider what could happen with the fight now that he and Gabriel were involved. Neither of them wanted to participate in the fight, but what would happen if they didn’t? Who would win? Would he lose one, or possibly both, of his brothers? If they did get involved in the fight, was there a possibility that he and Gabriel would lose each other? Did they even stand a chance to win against Michael and Lucifer if things were to turn ugly? Was there a chance that he could lose Gabriel even without being in the fight itself?

Gabriel reached a hand up and ran his fingers through (Y/N)’s hair soothingly. He pressed a small kiss to the corner of his lips. “Your thoughts are being really loud, Sugarplum.” He whispered. 

(Y/N) broke from his trance and shook his head lightly. “I’m sorry, it’s just…with the fight,” (Y/N) looked away briefly. “I don’t want to lose Sam and Dean, but now that I have you, I don’t want to lose you either.”

Gabriel gave him a sympathetic look as he pulled him close. “I know. This whole thing is one giant mess. I wish none of it had to happen. But I’m going to be with you every step of the way, I promise.”

(Y/N) shook his head. “You can’t promise me that. Knock on wood.”

“What?” Gabriel chuckled.

“I don’t want you to have just jinxed yourself, now knock on wood.”

Gabriel smirked as he rasped his knuckles against the wooden bench three times. “Better?”

“A little,” (Y/N) mumbled and nuzzled his cheek against Gabriel’s shoulder. “I don’t think I’ll feel better until this fight is over.”

Gabriel wrapped his arms tightly around him. “How about this? I promise to do everything in my power to keep you distracted. That way, you’re not too stressed out.”

(Y/N) pursed his lips in thought. “Not too distracted, though. I had practically forgotten about the fight until now, and I still need to stay on my toes.”

“How about I distract you just enough to keep your mind off of it?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Well then, Sugarplum, how do you propose I keep you distracted?”

“You can start by kissing me again,”

“Oh, I can do more than kissing,” Gabriel mused in a suggestive tone and wiggled his brows.

(Y/N) slapped his chest. “Perv,” he grumbled. “Let’s just start with kissing.”

“Taking it slow, I like your style,” Gabriel nuzzled his nose against (Y/N)’s.

(Y/N) smiled widely. “Then shut up and kiss me already.”

Without another word, Gabriel leaned down, capturing (Y/N)’s lips in a deep kiss. Just like that, all of his problems dissipated, and it felt as if he was floating. The park didn’t exist anymore, nor the stumbling locals who left the bar periodically. There were no stars, no more beautiful night sky. The only two things that existed were Gabriel and (Y/N). They were complete. They were strong. They were one. It felt as if nothing in Heaven, Hell, or in between could tear them apart. 

And everything was as it should be.

[issdisgrace]

SOMETHING IN HIS EYES

WARNINGS: Trans Wesker, Wesker is baby, fingering, cockwarming, some other shit.

A/N: I was horny as shit for Wesker when I wrote this, so it isn't the best, but it isn't the worst.

Albert Wesker was an unsolved puzzle that I wanted to solve. He was mysterious, cold, calm, and collected, but there’s something in his eyes that he often hid behind his sunglasses. His eyes silently screamed out for someone to take the weight off of him. And today it seemed like it was taking a toll on Wesker. He had failed his mission and 2 of his men died. Any minute now, he would be in here asking for my forgiveness. Something that he seemingly only did for me. What was different about me? Was it that I was older than him, that I was taller than him, that I was more powerful and influential than him? As I ponder to myself, there’s the knock on the door I was expecting.

“Come on Wesker.” I call out. The door open revealing the blonde man. His head down as he enters my office, closing the door behind him. 

“Have a seat.” I say, gesturing to the chair in front of me. He nods, taking a seat. He sits down and takes his sunglasses off, still looking down. 

“I’m disappointed in your failure today, Wesker. You are my best captain. I expect better from you. You let 2 men die today. Very unlike you. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I’m sorry that I failed you today, sir.” I say nothing as I get up from the seat. Walking over to the other side of the desk, I stand in front of Wesker. I gently force him to look up at me. His eyes filled with a silent plea.

“You are deeply burdened by something, Albert Wesker. I can help.” I say, caressing his face. He looks away from me. 

“I’m afraid no one can help me, sir.”

“Let me try. I don’t need my favorite best preforming Caption on something that isn’t other than his a game.”

“Alright.” He says looking back up at me. I smile down at him.

“Strip for me, sweetheart.”

“What?”

“Trust me, just strip.” Pulling away, I go and sit back into my chair. I watch as Albert slowly strips, folding his clothes into a neat pile on the chair. He stops when he’s just in boxers.

“Boxers too.” He nods and slips them, putting them into the neat pile.

“Come here.” I say patting lap. He shyly nods, coming to sit on my lap. Sitting in my lap, I hold him firmly on his hips, looking into his eyes. 

“You are a troubled man. I can see at least that much in your eyes. But I can also see the look of yearning in your eyes. One that I’m familiar with. One that tells me you need to desperately be taken care of. And for the weight to be lifted off your shoulders. Don’t worry Wesker, I’ll take care of you. I’ll lift the weight off your shoulders. I promise. You’re are in safe hands.” I can see his cold façade start to slip at my words. He slowly comes undone. Revealing a little boy that was hidden behind the cold demeanor. I test to see if he’s really slipped into the place I think he has. 

“Albert, baby, what’s my name?”

“Daddy?” He says in a small voice. I smile and praise him,

“Good boy.” He whines and wiggles around on my lap at the praise. I let out a chuckle at his demeanor. 

“You want daddy’s cock.” He shyly nods. I reach down and grab his ass, pulling him towards me. 

“Where do you want daddy’s cock?”

“My pussy.”

“You sure, baby. Daddy doesn’t want to make you feel dysphoric.”

“Please daddy. I want to be filled.” He whines. Such a needy baby. I reach down and play with his clit. He rugs himself against my hand, wanting more. 

“Stop baby.” He does so and I slip my hand down farther, teasing his entrance. He whines as a slowly pushes two fingers into his pussy. He’s already stretched open nicely. I wonder if the rumors of him getting fucked by his men are true. I really care to know. I curl my fingers trying to find his g spot. He lets out a little gasp when I do so. Smiling wickedly, I abuse his poor g spot with my fingers. His moans become louder, but I don’t care. He makes such pretty

noises. I work him up to his orgasm but for ripping it away from him. I pull my fingers out of him and bring them up to my mouth, licking his juices off of me. He tastes sweet, very sweet.

“Why’d you do that Daddy? I was sooo close?” He whines.

“Your not allowed to cum today. You failed your mission.” He whines again in protest this time.

“You should’ve thought about that beforehand but I’ll let you sit on daddy’s cock as I finish my paperwork for today.” 

“Ok, daddy I can do that.” 

“Good boy, now get daddy’s cock out.” Wesker reaches down and fumbles with my belt for a minute before getting it off. He pulls down the fly of my pants and gets my dick out. Pre cum already leaking from the tip. Wesker looks at my dick, then up at my face.

“I don’t think it’s going to fit.”

“We’ll make it fit, baby.” He nods and shuffles on my lap, lining himself up with me before slowly sinking down on me. He lets out breathy moans and whines about how big it is that makes me chuckle. Once half down, I guide him the rest of the way down myself. I can just barely see the outline of my dick in my stomach. Albert whines and moved around oh my lap, trying to get friction. 

“Stop baby. If you're a good cock sleeve for the rest of the day, I’ll fuck you, ok.” He nods and wraps his arms around my shoulder, putting his head in the crook of my neck. I pull myself into my desk and continue the paperwork I was working on prior. My work draws me and I pay no mind to the shifting whinny boy on my lap. Occasionally giving him a smack on the ass when he tries to slide up and down my cock. After an hour, his movements serve and he stops trying to fight his punishment. My sweet baby tired himself out. I think to myself as I give him a kiss on the temple before being consumed by work again.

[lord-emerson]

It's [REDACTED]!

Welcome to

The Lordling's Abode,

delicious friend!

Journal updated: 28 October, 2024

I'm Seph (20s, she/her), Eastern European creative bastard. I've been obsessed with my Fallen London OC Oswald for over a year now, and figured it was time to cope with the obsession the only way I know how: roleplaying the H__l out of his gay ass His Lordship.

Under the cut you will find reference art, writing, memes, a fanvideo and a music playlist pertaining to dear Oswald. @letters-of-fire's Howard also regularly makes an appearance as Oswald's friend/lover/enemy/toxic situationship. You can see more art of them under the #damage of a collateral nature tag and some relevant shitposts under the #howard/oswald tag.

[My partner @letters-of-fire and I are trying to save up for plane tickets so we can spend next summer together <3 If you'd like to support us/our art, you can contribute towards our goal on ko-fi. Thank you! ☕]

Without further ado, The Decadent Parvenu:

Lord Oswald J. Emerson (he/him, trans man)

Reference sheet + a gentleman reclining by my sweetheart @letters-of-fire, Oswald pondering the Scrimshander's gift art by the incomparable @t6fs <3

Fallen London profile

Reference sheet

Character portrait + updated version

Custom cameo

FL template

RP writing samples

Backstory monologue

Character playlist

Community art featuring Oswald

That One Howard/Oswald fanvid

Howard/Oswald storyboard WIP 1, WIP 2, animatic WIP, animatic WIP 2, WIP 3

Howard/Oswald fic 1 (Explicit + suggestive art), fic 2 (General), writing snippet + comic, snippet 2, fic 3 (Explicit), fic 4 (Explicit), fic 5 (General), snippet 3, fic 6 (General), fic 7 (Explicit), fic 8 (Explicit)

Howard/Oswald art 1, art 2, art 3, art 4 (suggestive), art 5 (modern AU), art 6, art 7, art 8, painting 1 (suggestive with nudity), painting 2, painting 3, painting 4, first date, comic, fantasy AU art + snippet, meme art, art 9 (suggestive), art 10 (suggestive), art 11

Howard/Oswald/Edison snippet with art (suggestive)

Scrimshander/Oswald snippet, art

Cavendish/Oswald art, snippet

Darcy/Oswald art

Emery/Brett & Oswald fic

... And finally, The Decadent Parvenu Meme Compilation. Enjoy <3

[crazylittlejester]

Been thinking about my Royal Depths au lately. the one with the kid Ganon. I will draw the au again probably within the next two months lamo.

Anyways, since I’ve been thinking about that au, I also remembered that one ask I sent you, where I asked what art style you would like to see a loz game have. Combining these two idea, I’ve got another question for you:

What would you like a new LoZ game/story to be about? Like, in RD I made the main character Ravio and had a itty bitty Ganon as one of his party members. What would your LoZ game be about? Would it be a sequel of sorts to another game, or just have some calls backs to another game(like maybe hw who knows 😏)? Would Link be the main character, or would it be a different character like Zelda(like with eow), or maybe a new character that would have an interesting perspective on the LoZ world(like idk a zora or fairy)?

Anyways uh. You’re creative and I like seeing your ideas. You could picture the game to look like the game art style you said earlier(I think it was an Alice in Wonderland type game? Idk it also kinda reminded me of Don’t Starve, art style wise if that rings any bells), if that makes things easier. Idk, with EoW around the corner I’ve been pondering about new LoZ stories like a mad man.

Hope all of this made sense, and have a great rest of your day!

I took a sec to answer this because I have SERIOUS thoughts about it and wanted to make sure i’d have the time to write it all out alskdkddk

i mentioned this about a month ago, and i would absolutely love to write this in fic form one day, and i plan to, it will just take me a LONG time but this is the storyline I would give a Zelda game if I had the power to make one:

I think of “Zelda” as a middle name of sorts, I think each princess has her own first name, but the first daughter of the royal family has that as a middle time and will end up going by that. The protagonist of this game? The eldest daughter of the royal family, and she cannot for the life of her figure out how to get those powers Hylia should’ve gifted her. Ganondorf is becoming more and more of a threat every day, and there’s nothing she can do about it except make sure he can’t get his hands on the triforce, which she’s just barely accomplishing. She thinks it her duty to be out there on the front lines getting shit done because if she can’t do the one thing she’s supposed to (unlock her powers) you best believe she’s out there with a sword kicking ass. She’s also trying to find Link because if the world is ending then there HAS to be a hero, but she literally find him and is getting really frustrated

I would give Ganon a much more compelling story. He’s not born evil, he’s born with as much capacity for good as anyone else, but due to the events of his childhood he becomes something terrible. No matter what he did everyone looked at him like he was going to be awful. They treated him poorly, nothing he could do was right in the eyes of ANYONE. He WANTED to break the cycle, but he couldn’t so to get everyone to just stop and leave him alone he’s seeking total control over everything because in his mind he’ll feel like he can breathe if he does

Now where the fuck is Link you may be asking? Well I firmly believe Hylia is a bit of a gatekeeper (/j) and will only give her magic to the eldest DAUGHTER in her bloodline. No man gets her powers, no thank you. So when the protagonist’s little sister, out of pure panic and desperation, makes an attempt to stop Ganon from destroying Hyrule Castle and her powers roar to life, the three main characters all stop and stare at each other for a minute because what the hell how did the younger sibling do that??

It is at this point the oldest ‘daughter’ realizes officially even Hylia knew he was trans before he did (he’d had his suspicions but this whole thing just confirmed it for him), and he hauls ass to get the Master Sword because with his little sister’s goddess given powers revealed he realizes HIS place in this whole hot mess, he’s Hylia’s HERO not her DAUGHTER, and he and the new Zelda use the power of supportive gay siblings to bonk Ganon over the head hard enough he just factory resets

And then they have group therapy /hj

So yeah, the REAL quest to find Link was the gender journey we had along the way

[omoriboii]

Call me a Basil kin the way I’m woefully attached and attracted to and codependent for my best friend 😎

(And because I legally changed my name to Basil like the trans boyfailure I am .3.)

Every day I feel like my ask box slowly devolves into some kind of weird ass confessional booth where people share tidbits of life and information to me and I just have to sit here and ponder why the hell I'm receiving this.

[mitchipedia]

"So what does that mean in practice? Democrats ponder whether to do real or fake populism"

Hamilton Nolan:

The worst part of the week after the presidential election has been the bombardment of “What the Democrats Must Do Now” messages from people who certainly do not know the answer to that question. “Regular Folks, my Students at Yale Tell Me, Are Tired of the Elites,” by David Brooks. “Some Friendly and Helpful Suggestions to My Friends on the Left,” by Bret Stephens. “Guhhh… Woke! Buhhh” by Pamela Paul. … The zombie opinion-creation industry does not even require a reflection period to trot out an entire set of prescriptions. They just changed the date on the label on the old prescriptions.

You can divide the post-election reactions of people in power into two groups: Genuine Attempts to Grapple With Reality, and then the larger group of Soothing Rationalizations of What Just Happened Which Will Allow People in Power to Continue on in Their Nice Lives. The danger is that the first group gets seduced by the second group and as a result we get the next four years of the same people doing the same things to the same effect. (You may notice that straightforward ideas like “fire everyone in Democratic Party leadership positions automatically after a national election loss” do not appear to be on the table.) This sort of conversation, in which many participants are concerned with covering their own asses, and all theses are unverifiable, is always in peril of puttering out into a grand conclusion of “Change nothing,” despite that being the one plan that has already been proven to be bad.

The “veneer of ‘nonpartisanship’ in mainstream media … causes them to focus on horse race analytics rather than on interrogating the morality of policy questions has seeped into the mind of the general public and now causes a great deal of election analysis to be amateur message analysis rather than substantive discussions of what humans need from politicians. If you find yourself thinking, “How should we change our messaging to win the next campaign?” I suggest you hit yourself hard on the head with a hammer a few times.

…

(Not to grind old axes, but this is the “Defund the Police” problem: a good policy addressing a substantive issue that the public found themselves completely unable to discuss substantively because all anyone would talk about was the slogan itself…. )

…

What the Democrats should do substantively going forward is: Fix people’s problems. Attack the crisis of economic inequality. Tax the rich and send the money to the poor and working class and create universal public health care and child care and free education and strengthen the labor movement and restrict the power of capital and watch the nation’s deepest problems shrink, because the nation’s deepest problems stem from the fact that America allows capitalism to arrange everything for the benefit of capital, which results in an array of awful consequences for humanity.

Addressing economic unfairness will be hard because it requires Democrats to go against the interests of their wealthy donors. Much easier to hope to win over Trump voters by being more racist and “tough on the border” and join in the persecution of trans people, Nolan says. Instead, Democrats must do it all: Fight persecution of all types.

Coal miners who fought in the Battle of Blair Mountain–members of the white working class circa 1921– resisted racism and focused on going to war with evil rich people. I believe we can too.

[bookwyrminspiration]

okay alright. onto uhhHHHH. DO i have thoughts about it. AM i coherent. here for now until my brain reboots (i was looking up paper girls trailers like WAS this show actually good for like ten minutes and it threw me off)--this shall be an all over the place ask by the way--: jorat is SO INTERESTING i am FOAMING AT THE MOUTH. CHOMPING AT THE BIT TO GET ENOUGH DETAILS ABOUT THIS COUNTRY TO ANALYZE THE EVERYTHING. the respect for the horses!!! FIREBLOODS!!!! their honor code (and all the ways that the antagonists continue to perform offenses against it)!!!! the environment!!! the SKIN MARKINGS!!!! just GRAHHHHH. AND THEY HAVE AN ENTIRE TRANS FESTIVAL. obviously the country is not w/o its prejudices (read: the giant ass xenophobia signs and also the assholes that are oreth's family regardless of who owns who) but it is so interesting to just!!! just the everything it's just everything. the things of idorra and thorra and mares and stallions and the respect you give to people and how everything is based on the herd mindset: what you protect, you own, and all that.

ALSO- STAR! OF CO U R S E HE'S DORNA'S CHILD LMAO. oh man. sad i don't get to see him as a main character taking up more space right now but also yk janel very much takes up the role of that specific kind of character... OH AND! kihrin understanding the gender thing, associating it back with his own culture, when janel finds out who father zajhera was.... What a Scene. i find myself comparing it to jess and morgan sometimes and then other times not... very similar character shapes, but the dynamic is shifted to the left.

Literally! I heard about Jorat and immediately went I need to know everything ever about this country. I love that it's not perfect. It both has these lovely beliefs about gender and has questionable practices alongside that. I made a shitpost about the inclusive misogyny--because it's still a divided country based on gender, it's your internal gender identity that matters, not your physical sex. Which!! Is a fascinating idea!

There is a place in fiction for idyllic, escapist places, but sometimes you want to explore something imperfect but different. To have something interesting and new to question and think through and explore. Jorat wasn't made to be a fantasy it was made to be a place in a fantasy, you know? And places aren't perfect. Jorat is both victim of being misunderstood and disrespected and perpetrator of strict rules and xenophobia against the other countries' ways of life.

and the festival of turning leaves!! in exchange for some community service for a while Galava will literally change your physical sex for you, and not only does this exist but it's cherished. It is a valued and beloved festival amongst the joratese. Jorat I love you. Not in spite of your imperfections, but because of them. Because you are not a perfect place you are a real place with real problems and complexity. Even though I don't want to participate in the idorra/thudaje system it's so fun to ponder

Also shout out to Star! what a fun character even if he's not around very much. Janel does absolutely take up the genderqueer character mantel valiantly, but I wouldn't have complained about having another. Though their are some discussions of gender to do with other characters (specifically Tereath).

it's hard to conceptualize that Father Zajhera scene at first (at least for me) because like...we've just met Janel fully, but thinking back. Holy FUCK. Imagine. The man who saved you and personally attended to you for YEARS after a horribly traumatic incident. a kindly mentor who literally treated your MIND. and he turns out to be RELOS VAR??? that is fucked beyond belief my god...would be very curious to hear more about this jess/morgan comparison though!

[dead6ite]

GUYS !! omg my last post got kinda popular…. some new followers HELLO !!!

i’m glad everyone liked my (correct) opinions

i’ve been thinking of a few random hcs that i will be sharing here

fade and omen LOVE cats. they spend hours watching cat videos together and their messages are full of cat videos, barely any actual conversation. of course, they’re still very good friends and talk a lot, just mostly in person

so i saw someone say that cypher knows when ppl are dating bc he will make their room codes work on each others door…kj going to see raze and putting in her own by muscle memory, not realizing till late that night like. WAIT A MINUTE.

fade and yoru RARELY interact. but despite everything they exchange a nod and a fist bump every once in a while. trans solidarity

gekko is just such a sweetheart. he loves cooking for everyone and whenever someone’s down he’ll bring them their favorite dish

i think all the agents love sharing their culture, and sometimes get into lighthearted banter about how certain things should be prepared. they also teach each other dishes, and viper has learned a lot. viper has always been a good cook, but shes really broadened her horizons

brim reminds me of those white dudes who genuinely love spicy food and claim they can handle anything. agents try to make him tap out by giving him increasingly spicy dishes. it’s a thursday night activity. they all wait around intently for him to tap out, but he just happily eats it all and thanks whoever cooked it. everyone sighs and disbelief, and ponders what to make next week

ok now i’m rambling about food because i love food

do you ever see those videos of weird ass white people concoctions like “what the fuck is that” or like the most yeehaw ass food you’ve ever seen? yea, that’s brimstone. he makes venison (deer sausage) cheesy potato salad, casseroles. everyone has actually come to love his white people cooking

they have karaoke nights and drink till they’re silly!!! cypher sings careless whisper with harbor and it’s INCREDIBLE

fade djs. that’s all

phoenix makes music too, and sometimes he and fade have talked about DAW preferences, and things of the like

astra holds weekly meditation classes every tuesday and skye is the FIRST in line every week. bright and early!

i’ll wrap it up for now,,,

[twinknote]

SOICHIRO "DILF" YAGAMI'S TITS???? HOW FAT ARE THEY AND DID LIGHT "BREEDABLE TWINK" YAGAMI INHERENT THEM????????

hi i'm so late in responding to this bc i was Deeply pondering it. and then forgot abt it. as one does. But i remember seeing some post u either made or reblogged abt light having fat tits and L having a fat ass and honestly it changed my mind bc i was initially inclined to say that light does Not possess fat tit swag. i think trans!light absolutely has fucking milkers. but i suppose regular ol' cis light can have fat tits too, as a treat

[rreskk]

Could you maybe do a trans man X Steve Haines smut fic where they argue with each other when the guys are around but when everyones not looking they disappear and do stuff and when they come back the guys keep poking fun at them because they thought they hated each other?

---A/N: I'm so sorry this took ages! I've managed to get it done. Thank you for the ask! And thanks for the likes. I appreciate your support :)

Summary: Your secret was out after Steve made it clear that you two... Were something more than enemies.

Word count: 828

Pairings: trans!male reader/ Steve Haines

TW: Smut

Michael pondered into the room with obvious curiosity. He walked alongside the other two, Franklin and Trevor. Being told to meet with urgency, Dave greeted them with unsuspected tiredness.

“Where are they?” Michael asked when noticing two empty seats.

His loyal FIB agent shrugged, “Somewhere. There was some bickers here and there… Then they just wondered off.”

“We ain’t too late, aren’t we?” Trevor chimed in.

“No, I suppose not. Stick around and they’ll return shortly.” Responded Dave.

“Man, they are probably at each other’s throats again.”

“Not quite, Franklin. I believe they are hiding something more personal.”

Franklin glanced at Dave, “What do you mean?”

The trio exchanged looks as the tired man between them placed down his coffee. He sighed.

“It’s not proved but they may be together… Just more… Friendly.”

Trevor busted out laughing at the thought. He held his stomach and antagonised Steve without his presence around. Michael shook his head with a grin and sat down, waiting for you both to show up.

-

“God, I feel so… AH!” Steve panted as you held him still. The guy has been under your skin all day… The second Dave went to buy some coffee, Steve pulled you aside and… Well, the situation proclaimed itself considering you were pushing your cock into his anus.

You were his first time. Remembering the moment he experienced the sensation, it’s a memory to use when he becomes too unbearably cocky. Steve hates the restrictions due to this… But it was a part of the fun. Coming to terms with his sexuality, you helped him through the crisis and he admitted his sexual awakening. Steve is not openly saying he’s gay, it’s a secret between you both.

“Feels good, huh?” You smiled and thrusted further into him. The man gripped onto the wall. His FIB uniform was loosely wrapped around his physique. His trousers dangled around his ankles and you were careful not to crease the shirt since after this, you’ll have to pretend nothing happened.

Steve nodded, his ego enlightening at the attention, “Fuck, you have no right to be so hot, dude.” There was lack of sincerity… It was Haines after all, he is filled with petty compliments, typical brat. And he loved being one.

“Oh my God…” He whispered in front of you.

Outstretching your hands, you held his waist and pushed him into you, deepening the intimacy and friction. Where he continues to whine, his voice grows more hallow as he approaches the need to climax.

“Keep i-it up… I need to… Fuck.”

You fastened the pace and bit your lip. Fuelled with concentration, you slammed yourself against his ass and abused the G spot. Steve gagged out a moan. He fell against the wall and panted for forbidden air. His cock between his legs whimpered and squirted out semen onto the floor, staining and igniting his secrets with you.

“Oh my GOD!” He cried through the stimulation.

Series of seconds after his loaded orgasm, you swiftly breathed out a heavy groan and pulled out to jerk the remainder of your lust. Avoiding the direct contact of his uniform, your cum drooled and dribbled onto your hand to avoid a mess. Steve was tucking his shirt into his trousers and gave you a flustered smirk.

“Remind me why I hated you again?”

“Sexual frustration,” You grinned, wiping your cum onto some tissue paper, “Don’t lie. You liked me ages before we got together.”

Steve scowled, “Yeah, yeah. You find it funny, big guy. I’m the boss here!”

“Okay, sir. We better go meet the others.”

“Sir? What are you playing at?” He protested and followed your lead.

-

“Look who decided to show up!” Trevor tormented, leaning forward onto his chair, “The two cocks.”

“Very funny, Philips. Maybe you should take a shower at some point. There is an invention called soap and hair-wash!” Slandered the man beside you. His legs were wobbly after your interaction, immediately catching Michael’s attention.

“Where have you guys been?” He raised the question.

You scratched your forehead, “I went to the bathroom.”

“And I also went to the bathroom.” Steve stupidly said. You facepalmed… Now your cover was blown.

“Shit, man. Dave was right.” Franklin murmured as he rested his chin against the palm of his hand. Out of everyone, he seemed the least affected by this.

“What? Whatever. Get yourselves together! We got a revolution to plan!” Haines demanded with his beamy voice. You sat down beside Dave, earning a side eye which would suggest his awareness of your sexual relationship with Steve. There was no thought behind his eyes. It was like he knew…

“Are you gonna ditch us again and shag your boyfriend?”

Michael sighed, “Enough, Trev. Let’s get on with this.”

You inhaled shakingly as Trevor’s eyes burnt into yours. The psychopath found amusement in your embarrassment but luckily… He refrained himself from further humiliation. You’ll have to thank Steve for this MONSTRISITY later on.

[runthepockets]

It's curious. When you ask a trans woman what she likes about being a woman, she just tells you. Even if she's a tomboy or genderweird with it or whatever, she just tells you. "Learning makeup is fun" "I like looking at my tits in the mirror" "I like feeling like the token girl in a group of guys" "I like the way other women look at me" "I like being a woman in noise/techno/metal/etc" "I like spinning in cute dresses" "I like when my boyfriend bridal carries me cus it makes me feel cute" etc.

When you ask a trans guy what he likes about being a man, there's all this handwringing about avoiding toxic masculinity (which should be talked about, but it shouldn't be the center of every discussion) and whatnot and almost never an actual answer. Like, there's no reason you can't just say "being a dude who plays on a men's soccer team and wears a man's uniform is a hoot" and leave it at that. Being a man in male spaces and enjoying that energy isn't really something to be ashamed of, it's not inherently misogynistic or exclusionary, or whatever. Nothing about being a man really is, cus being a man is morally neutral, just like being a woman is. I think a lot of guys get it stuck in their head that if they say anything nice about being men or liking other men, that people will assume they think the opposite is true of / about women, but that's just a byproduct of binary and patriarchal thinking, and not really our responsibility to take care of when women and womanhood aren't even the subject of the conversation in the first place. Obviously we should call out chauvanistic behavior when we see it, but if someone sees you talking about how cool being a man is and assumes you're some kinda MRA waiting to strike, that's kind of a them problem.

It does ring true that the majority (or at least, the most amplified examples) of trans guy positivity / solidarity online is about paying lip service to patriarchy & answering for the sins of cis dudes more than anything about actually enjoying being a man, let alone a masculine one. Being surrounded by radfem rhetoric and Pop feminism your whole life will, admittedly, leave you with some pretty fucked up ideas about being yourself. So here's some fun and badass things I enjoy about being a dudely dude:

Wearing briefs & boxers

Being "one of the guys", especially in male dominated music subcultures like Metal and Hardcore

Thinking about women seeing me in public and checking me out

Packing in sweatpants specifically so girls have more to look at

Thinking about being a girl's crush

How many things I can buy and put on my wall and ponder just cus they have a woman's ass on them, and how no one really questions it; as much as it sucks to be read as "perpetually horny" and not needing affection by proxy of simply being a man, there are some really nice perks too.

Being a straight dude in general

Having spikey buttrock hair

The way men show affection with one another; I get some people being put off by dapping over hugs or dudes saying "love you homie" or "I miss you man" instead of just saying I love you, cus it reads as ironic masculine detatchment or fear of being read as gay, but idk. I like it. I like low intimacy bonds, sometimes they're a lot more casual and less stressful, and knowing a secret handshake makes me feel cool and included. I've always just read it as men having different ways of showing affection than women do and not much deeper than that.

Singing; everything to smooth, jazzy Baritone to Hard Rock with lots of fry screams to Hardcore and Death Metal growls, nothing is off the table now and I love it.

Wearing suits

Beards (that's the facial hair) & sideburns

Being strong, both emotionally and physically

Being independent

Being blunt

Knowing I have more in common with my heroes and favorite musicians-- Riley Gale, Lil Ugly Mane, Pharrell, Steve-O, ODB, Denzel Curry, etc-- than I ever did before just through identity. Makes me feel fuckin invincible and makes their lyricism and actions hit harder.

People looking at me and assuming I like cars and sports; I know gender roles are hogwash and shouldn't be applied to everyone, but in this case they're right and it feels fucking great.

Revisiting my favorite media as the target demographic rather than as a tomboy; for example, the Naruto episodes where Shikamaru's dad gives him fatherly advice about being a man has always hit pretty hard, but rewatching them now that I can apply a lot of that advice to my own life, it's hit like 20x harder, and has given me a lot more appreciation and respect for the series than I ever thought possible.

That compulsive need I have to compete and show off when a cute girl is around

Being a fighter / advocate / goddamn force of nature; not in terms of randomly hitting people or having a temper, but in context of having a spine, being tough, and generally being pretty resilient, much like the Shonen and Seinen protagonists I admired in my youth.

[daisychainsandbowties]

how did you figure out that you’re nonbinary and that you specifically use they/them pronouns? /genq

oh okay so figuring out gender was a ‘casper is stupid for 17 entire years’ situation.

i basically came out of the cradle insisting that it was cringe and terrible of my parents to think of me as a girl. i was, emphatically, a Pokémon obsessed little guy since i could form entire sentences. but it was 2002, and frankly i was more concerned with how far i could spit and collecting spiders off the bushes to be worried about it. my parents (bless) were 100% cool with getting my clothes in the boys section & letting me do whatever i wanted (except get ice cream from the ice cream van every day. their one and only instance of homophobia 😔) so i didn’t really suffer, especially, beyond scowling at people in school when they dared to refer to me. 

it was pretty clear to me when i was 11 that having a cursed body was, indeed, going to be a curse. not worth mentioning how terrible and evil 11-14 was for me physically, tho to be fair i also took up swordfighting then so swings and roundabouts.

but yeah, around when i was 9 i knew there was a huge massive problem but then my mom got cancer (multiple myeloma) and… yeah gender crisis took a backseat while we watched her almost die about three times (pulmonory embolism, stem-cell transplant, getting shingles with no immune system bc chemo). my grandmother looked after me while Hospital.

unhelpful to the anti-trans-kids-existing demons bc she was also like intensely indulgent of my refusal to wear anything but my brazil football jersey. she let me eat nothing but artificial cheese slices put on a single slice of white bread and then microwaved because i had the massive trump card of not being allowed to see my mother for almost six months. i think she was grateful that i seemed to find the whole situation too serious to cry over. my best friend was a boy & he was pretty willing to be like ‘ok cool. ur not a girl. can we go on the trampoline?’ 

& then, when things calmed down & i was about 16/17, i had come out as gay (good for me) about two years before & then i realised i was oh fuck A Bit More Complicated than that i spent a while agonising over it. really a long walks on the beach pondering my gay ass type deal.

but then, just when i was kind of starting to vibe with being enby, I got really really sick, which lasted aboooout 5/6 years where it was just an old school platforming game but titled ‘casper tries not to die while trying to get a degree & two masters’). very do not pass go do not collect 200 of the universe to Do That. but hey. 

so it was around Pandemic when i finally got the brainspace to actually think, & i realised that i was definitely trans, probably nonbinary. i experimented for a while with different pronouns. realised my ‘dumbass nickname everyone has to call me’ was my ACTUAL NAME (never underestimate my stupidity and ignorance) & yeah at first i was thinking of going the hormones path (do not ever please god don’t get me started on how hard that is in this stupid bastard country. 5 years waiting period, on average. have to get diagnosed formally by a team of psychiatrists with what is characterised as a ‘mental illness’. have to ‘live’ - as Some Fucker sees it - as your ‘chosen’ gender for like two years AND be out to basically everybody - realistic and safe i say sarcastically i say while looking into the camera like i'm on the office - oh look i got started. anyway. bullshittery)

but eventually i realised huh nope i just wanted top surgery (same fucking deal with the health service tho) & for people to use they/them generally (i am not too fussed w/ pronouns for myself tho. like, a lot of my friends use he/him because frankly i deserve it most of the time with the himbo behaviour. professionally i insist on they/them for consistency. i get congnitive dissonance with she/her as in i get a weird shock & want to laugh & wonder who the fuck they’re talking about for a sec before i realise it’s me. but like, miffed too much i am not).

also gender is a big pendulum for me it’s an elliptic orbit sometimes for a few weeks i’m like a feminine guy and other times i feel like a masculine gay & sometimes i feel like the autism creature (bc i AM an autism creature, always). 

but i have, essentially, felt nonbinary always. trust me i have a pic of blue-eyed blond 5y/o me sitting on my bed in my Pokemon-themed room wearing a Manchester United jersey and holding my PS2 controller in my hands with a profoundly vacant and himboish expression on my face. it did fully take me 17 whole years to have my ‘oh’ moment about it, but a lot of that was profoundly indulgent parents who were you can’t even imagine how determined to not raise me the way they were raised - which meant, apparently, that if i wanted to be a spider-collecting, bug obsessed pokémon-fixated little guy who kept snapping branches off the bamboo and fashioning makeshift swords out of them - well then that was the creature they’d send to school every day. 

i think the tldr here is: casper stupid. gender a concept. 

[0mn1catalyst]

Finally, a non-political post, but that doesn’t change the Trigger Warning for sensitive subjects. I’ve been having strange dreams lately and felt I could use some input from the internet. I’ve had three dreams I remember fairly well and about half of the dreams I’ve had since then are relatively the same in structure to each other. If anyone knows anything about dreams (or cosmic horror???), insight would be greatly appreciated!~

(To be clear, these dreams physically feel different from any other I’ve had and have had subconscious effects to my irl, so I know it’s not a coincidence)

This first one starts with me running into the cafe on the college campus my friends & partners go to, absolutely decking a robotic doppelgänger of myself. Seeing them, I knew we fought before, but I wasn’t going to be beat by them again. That being said, my ass almost gets beaten to a pulp, again. Though, as the doppelgänger monologues about how I’m broken and need to be replaced by a model that won’t malfunction, my partner (the one that if I didn’t meet, I would either have killed myself or taken over the world like some super villain) did something, granting me an ever changing form that after a few moments settled in a feminine form, in line with how I see my true self (yeah I’m trans-fem, not important right now). Of course, using my new power I wiped the doppelgänger off the face of “reality,” and spent time with my friends, trying to figure out all of the new things that I was capable of. One or two weeks later at the same campus, the SCP Foundation’s MTF busted through every window in the cafe and attempted to capture me. Due to my new strengths, they realized that wasn’t working and resorted to striking a deal with me. They would be able to research what I was capable of, and I was allowed to be out while being monitored (to keep people safe, obviously). I saw no harm in letting them try to understand what I was now, and I didn’t really want this to be a repeating thing every time I go out, so I agreed. Not much happened after, but I remember there was some kind of testing that didn’t yield very impressive results.

My partner, the same person specifically mentioned in the last dream, heard that there was a little farmers market event being held by an after school program for the grade-schoolers in the area. While not really being a person that likes getting out much or someone with any money, I agreed to go anyway. When we got there, we met some old friends that weren’t in the same grade as us when we graduated and we looked around for anything we could buy from the shops. At the time, I only had $2. yeah, I’m broke and already feel bad about it. Anyway, I couldn’t buy shit, but there was a little shop (if I can even call it that. The person running it was one of the employees who ran the program at the time, and she was just sitting in between a table and the front desk. She offered to show me what she was selling, but even after I told her that I wouldn’t be able to afford anything, they insisted saying that everything they wanted to sell was two dollars. In an effort to not seem rude, I looked through their wares. I remember there were four rings, but I only remember two of them, a gold ring with a digital watch face that had some officially licensed Pokemon mobile games that I had never seen before. I already was wearing my apple watch, so I didn’t really need it, she understood. That’s how it went with the other two I don’t remember, but the last one had me intrigued. It was an obsidian ring but while one edge was smooth and clean, the other was chipped and jagged as if it had been fashioned into a blade. Of course, noticing the pattern with the previous three odd rings, I asked “So, what does this one do?” They looked at me, a few moments of silence pass, and they respond with “It grants power rewind it grants wishes rewind it grants dreams, the only catch is if you were to remove the ring you would die.” I pondered my position, remembering my previous dream. Was that what I dreamt for myself? Not knowing what I was, but knowing that I was powerful? Realizing that knowing in this case wasn’t necessary, only being, I bought the ring. As I put it on, my body shifted to the same Eldridge form from the previous dream, and in the void of my mind I saw a code. One that has only been used in my journal so I may hide my secrets in plain sight and only share them with those I see fit. When I woke up, I forgot what the encrypted message was and I don’t think I’ll ever see it again (my bad). [At some point, I’ll draw the ring and put it here]

Ok, my bad, but this is the only one that I can’t describe in detail. I remember the part in my perspective better. Speaking of, This one starts from the perspective of an astronaut in a space station with about 11 other people. Something happened, it turns into a murder mystery. Some sleuthing happens, some drones malfunction, and one of the crew is found stuffing a bloody fur suit into a desk drawer so the case is solved. It wasn’t the person hiding evidence, it was the now dead furry! (Ignore the other dirty fur suits hidden in and under the desk) Now is when it stops feeling like a normal dream. The perspective changes to an observation deck overlooking a test chamber with a UFO looking space pod on four thin legs. Someone out of frame says to take them out of the simulation. After a scientist pulls a lever, he pod quickly rockets up from the concrete floor of the test chamber into the ceiling, scratching a large hole into and through it. Soon after it became airborne, it falls to the ground as quickly as it rose. once it lands, a panel opens letting the crew from the previous part of the dream out into the test chamber painted to look as if it’s outside. They’re treated like heroes? Last change in perspective for this dream, I swear. I look around a concrete building as I enter it, I know it’s an office building but I can’t help but notice that the whole place is built like an underground prison. Walking around I find the cafeteria, and while it really isn’t helping fend off the prison allegations, it was early and I didn’t get to eat. Most of the food was self served, except for meats and desserts. Fine, what’s wrong with human interaction? As I got my food though, I realized I couldn’t recognize a pattern, and of course I investigated (plus I could get some dessert out of my side quest). I got in line, where the person in front of me was taking forever to order. As I started to grow impatient, I noticed that people in the line were being treated differently than others, and it wasn’t by gender or race, but I could tell it was something different about how the people who were serving the food were looking at some people and how they treated them. Minutes pass. I grew impatient. I asked if I could order a small premade cake while they figure out what to order, because if this takes much longer I could be late to the meeting I was there for. the previously smiling worker turned and looked at me out of anger and annoyance, snapping at me to wait my turn and that I was lucky she was even considering not giving me any food at all for daring to talk to her out of turn. I was reasonably confused, and the people behind me began to look tired, some leaving the line. After i got my dessert, I ate thinking to myself that I needed to do something about this place. [I will also make a sketch of the UFO thing at one point, that’ll probably go here]

Now for the ones that have been randomly coming up.

They usually start in a remote warehouse similar to the big empty ones you see in animated Batman shows, but you can’t see either end as a large anthropomorphic animal (typically some kind of commonly known predator. Cat, wolf, goat, you get the idea). The large Beast speaks to a figure, bathing in the only light in the room. They mostly talk about the typical consumer and how the raising costs of living is at an all time high, and how someone like them should be more than willing to hire more workers, paying them their fair wages or lowering the cost of things people need to live. The figure runs into the darkness away from the Beast, until they are too tired to keep running. The Beast appears before them, looking down, pitting the poor fool. One cannot out run this creature in a realm of itself, nor can run from the consequences of their actions. The Beast offers to make a deal with the figure, “Do your part in fixing the natural order of man and corporation, and I won’t have to do it for you. You are not a necessary cog in machine you created, and no one will cry if you were to say, disappear.” Each figure would have their response, but it always ends the same. Either they agree and fix their part of the system, or are consumed by the Beast, never to be seen, heard, or thought of again. [I might try to draw this, but I am no artist. If I do try, it might be here, but don’t count on me sharing] If I continue to talk about this, I might make a tag for it, but we’ll see.

[localcryptic]

THE RESULTS ARE IN. I TRICKED YOU ALL.

TRUTH #1… Ripley loves musical theater.

he would kill you if you ever found out. he has a reputation as an edgy bastard to maintain. but he can’t help being a total sap at heart. he’s a sucker for a good ballad. the type of raw, heightened emotion in musicals just gets him every time. god forbid something from hadestown comes on shuffle while he’s on the bus, he has to shut it off or he will cry about it. he would never want to be in a musical, and i doubt he’d even want to go see one live because of the crowds, but he puts those tech-savvy skills to work and has a whole flash drive of bootlegs to watch.

he didn’t think he’d like musicals, but back in the sidestep days, ricardo took him to see the 2012 movie adaptation of Les Miserables (“trust me, it’ll be fun!” <- ricardo, forgetting that it’s the most depressing show in the world) and ripley experienced shrimp emotions the second jean valjean got those goddamn candlesticks. he was IN. this is a rough approximation of how ripley’s first musical experience went

TRUTH #2… Ripley did name himself after Ripley’s Believe It Or Not

this started out as a running joke between me and @b33tlejules saying one of our sidesteps picked out a last name by looking at a random street sign. there is a physical Ripley’s Believe It Or Not museum in Hollywood along the Walk of Fame, right in the heart of all the touristy shit, which has a Giant Stupid T-Rex on the roof looking down at the street below. i know that not many things in the old Los Angeles survived the Big One, but in my heart of hearts, i can only hope that this monstrosity was one of the remaining relics.

you have to imagine. you’re some trans guy, just coming to terms with your identity, exploring what you want to emulate, who you want to be now that you finally have the chance to decide for yourself. also it’s your first time like, going outside on your own. you’re pondering all of this while you weave through crowds, trying to remain unseen, and suddenly, you look up to see THAT. you have to admit. it would be the coolest fucking thing in the world. ripley did in fact see a big ass stupid t-rex and say “yup, i’ll base my entire identity on this.”

i don’t think he even went into the museum.

“but where’d he get Hawthorn from then?” i’m so glad you asked.

which means… our LIE is… 🥁🥁🥁

“Ripley’s apartment belongs on r/malelivingspaces. truly a nightmare”

ripley’s apartment is actually pretty nice! it means a lot to him to have his space be comfortable and organized and feel like his own. he really likes cleaning and decorating, it gives him something in his life he can control. he also likes cooking, even if he’s only average at it. it’s important for him to really feel at home and he puts more effort into it than he’d ever let on. much more effort than he puts into presenting himself, honestly. it’s not the biggest or fanciest apartment possible, but it’s his, and it’s very cozy and well loved :)

thank you all for playing :) this was fun and i’d love to play again

OC two truths and a lie

"choose an OC and make a 24 hour poll with two truths and one lie about them and see if people can guess the lie"

(thank you for tagging me @autumnfangirler >:3)

i shall be exposing my sidestep Ripley Hawthorn's secrets today, since he is so famously open with his emotions (<- lying)

psst. tell me what you voted for and why in the tags/replies if you want

(i challenge @wormonastringtheory , @b33tlejules @eggfullofbees , if y'all want to play :3c)