#not once is it ever implied that they are any less suited to being a cop/friend/partner/parent because of them

[allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken]

Ranking Brooklyn 99 Characters Based on How Autistic They Are

PSA: This is not a serious discussion about autism representation in the media or even just in Brooklyn 99, this is a joke. I am an autistic person making a joke. I am fully aware that none of the characters were intended to be autistic. I'm also fully aware that having some traits commonly associated with autism does not necessarily mean a person is autistic, and vice-versa.

Jake Peralta- ADHD Kiiiiing! Probably not autistic though, his executive functioning issues and occasional infodumping can easily be attributed to the aforementioned ADHD. B Tier.

Amy Santiago- Socially anxiety, hyperfixations, infodumping, strictly regimented routines and most importantly so much stimming. She has a happy happy dance! She obsessively braids her hair and hums songs when she's nervous! A Tier.

Rosa Diaz- Probably not autistic, the best people skills/cognitive empathy of the cast (she's very stonefaced but I think she's just repressed), doesn't seem to have any obvious hyperfixations, stims, or sensory issues. C Tier.

Charles Boyle- Excellent candidate for autism. Hyperfixations (weird food, Jake), general extreme lack of social awareness. His weird tastes also suggest some sensory processing atypicalities. Also the similarities between most of the Boyle cousins suggest this behavior is at least somewhat genetic. A Tier.

Gina Linetti- Not autistic, just a narcissist. D-Tier.

Terry Jeffords- Not autistic, seems like token neurotypical. However he did memorize an entire GoT ripoff so. C-Tier.

Captain Raymond Hold- Pure, undiluted, distilled autism. Literally The Most Autistic. We got:

a. The lack of nonverbal communication, stoneface and monotone voice are common in autistic individuals

b. The hyperfixations (classical music, thermometers, etc)

c. The heavy emphasis on following rules and routines in his life (down to exactly how to shake a person's hand)

d. The sensory processing disorders (his meals are extremely bland and he has a distaste for a lot of foods, especially eggs)

e. The autistic play- shown as a child (and adults) playing with model trains with an emphasis on "realism," his macaroni art were graphs.

f. The familial similarities (his mom acts incredibly similar to him, although his sister does not, suggesting his mother shares autistic traits with her son).

In conclusion: S-Tier

[hazbin-writings-and-musings]

Lucifer Morningstar x Pregnant!Reader Headcanons

As much as dear Lucy and reader enjoyed themselves in this headcanon post, I can't help but imagine such activities might lead to Charlie become a big sister, so I put some headcanons together for such a situation. I know that Sinners can't get pregnant as canon currently stands, so I typically employ either the Rules of Fanfic or I imagine reader is a living human that ended up in Hell through magic shenanigans (will elaborate with a prompt post once I've got the spoons), though of course you're free to imagine them as Hellborn or whatever suits your fancy!

Warnings: Pregnancy Mention, Implied Smut

- He's insistent you see the Royal Physician as soon as you start experiencing symptoms, but he's not at all prepared for the diagnosis you bring back, and he might need you to repeat it a few dozen times. You're pregnant? With a baby? And it's his? He put a baby in you? You're going to have his baby? An actual baby? He's going to be a dad again?! So goes the conversation for a good ten or so minutes, and suffice to say he's far from calm once the news finally does sink in. Given that the two of you had assumed that an angel and a mortal couldn't reproduce, this is more than an unexpected surprise, and Lucifer knows all too well how much of a fuss this will create from Hell's lowest ring all the way up to Heaven. That's to say nothing of how Charlie might take the news...

- Once the initial panic fades, after a solid hour or so, he gathers himself and focuses on setting a course of action. A very important decision needs to be made. He says it's up to you, but upon being asked what he'd like to do, the King of Hell surprises himself and answers without hesitation that he'd love to have this baby with you. He's surprised because he knows better than anyone that it will be challenging, but he can't deny how much he wants it regardless. Having Charlie was the greatest thing he'd ever done, and the thought of another little bundle makes his heart swell in ways he can barely describe, but ultimately he'll support whatever decision you make. Carrying a half-Archangel is no easy feat... Hearing that you want the same and intend to carry through is enough to make him lift you clear off the ground in a spinning airborne embrace, wings fluttering like a hummingbird as he breaks out into a celebratory musical number or two. He can't wait to be a dad all over again!

- If you thought he pampered you before, you were wrong. He doubles the amount of servants at your call, ensures there's always a physician available at a moment's notice, and hires a full team of chefs to cook whatever you might crave at any hour of the day. From beginning to end, he doesn't want you to want for anything, and the man knows a thing or two about spoiling, and he goes all out to ensure you're surrounded by comfort at all times. That's to say nothing of his own personal dedication to more or less worshiping your existence. Even the tiniest indication of pain or discomfort has him leaping to your assistance. Backrub? Footrub? Full body massage? You name it, he's quite happy to provide. If it wasn't such a cliche he'd be rather happy to feed you grapes from a golden platter. His efforts are borne from the deep sense of pride he feels every time he looks at you and thinks of how incredible it is that he's with you, that you're carrying his child, and that the two of you are bringing something quite wonderful and unique into existence. Said pride fully extends to the public view, where he doesn't hesitate to show you off and humbly brag to anyone that will listen about the news.

- You'll also find that as protective as he was before, he doesn't even hesitate to get his fangs out now, not that many in Hell are stupid enough to mess with the King's beloved. He expects you to be treated with the highest levels of respect, and if he can't accompany you somewhere, he'll insist on an armed escort to keep you safe. This fear isn't completely unfounded, as there are some willing to risk everything for an upper hand on Lucifer, but he's got ample experience keeping the opportunists at bay. He did the same when Lilith was expecting Charlie.

- Speaking of Charlie, the only thing that gives him any kind of hesitation is his fear that she might take the news poorly. Though she took your relationship well, what if she isn't thrilled about a younger sibling? With their relationship so recently repaired, he fears she might worry about being replaced or pushed aside, and he doesn't know how to reassure her that nothing will ever make him love her less. Thankfully, with her boundless kindness and eternally upbeat personality, the Princess of Hell puts his worries to rest as soon as she gets the news. In fact, she reacts much the same way her father did; a massive hug and a delighted musical number, albeit with far more happy sobbing. She promises through tears that she'll be the best big sister Hell has ever seen, and that she simply can't wait.

[samioli]

Are you doing the "Drunken Love Confessions" game? If so, I'd love a 16. "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing." - narumitsu. Thanks!

Hi there! Thanks for the prompt! I can't believe this is the first narumitsu thing I've written in months, CRAZY. I hope you enjoy!

16. "This is not a dream, I think. In my dreams we're usually kissing."

Phoenix never expected Miles Edgeworth to be this much of a lightweight. 

He always pictured him drinking glass upon glass of wine and still being his perfect, elegant, slightly-pompous self. 

Who knew if you got him to do a few tequila shots that all went away?

Although to be fair, he’s definitely been less of an ass these past few months, Phoenix thought to himself, gazing at the man who was currently dozing off on his shoulder in the taxi they were in together. Once you’ve seen a guy drool on your suit jacket, he kinda seemed a little less scary to you.

Besides…he’s been through a lot. 

Phoenix softened as Edgeworth started to snore lightly in his sleep. After everything with the von Karma case, he thought the man deserved as many naps as he wanted.

Still though, Phoenix wasn’t sure what it exactly meant for the two of them. Were they acquaintances? Co-workers? Friends?

…Could they ever be more?

That’s not fair, Phoenix, he chastised himself. Let the man breathe; no need to smother him with your weird crush that you’ve had since you were kids.

He had to remind himself that the guy just found out his mentor (and kind of adoptive father) killed his dad all those years ago—a crime he blamed himself for.

Edgeworth deserved a break.

Which was exactly why Phoenix practically dragged him for a post-trial celebration. He wanted Edgeworth to get his mind off of things, to even let loose a little bit, but he wasn’t really sure if that was possible.

After tonight, Phoenix knew it was. Edgeworth turned out to be a really goofy and happy drunk, which surprised the hell out of him. He honestly never thought he’d associate the word goofy with Edgeworth before, but hey, never say never.

Edgeworth was laughing at Phoenix’s sub-par jokes, giggling to himself and practically beaming at him all night.

It was…nice.

Addicting, even. He wished he could see that side of Edgeworth more.

“Is over here alright?” The taxi driver asked, shaking Phoenix out of his thoughts. He looked out the window at this really fancy-shmancy apartment complex, hoping Edgeworth had given the right address.

Phoenix gently raised his shoulder, attempting to wake the man up. “Psst. Edgeworth. We’re here, I think.”

It took a moment, but Edgeworth started to wake, opening and closing his eyes a few times. “Hmm?”

God, he was adorable.

“Is this the right place?” he asked, trying not to fall head over heels in love with a man who could barely tolerate his existence up until recently.

Edgeworth blinked a few more times—first at him, then at the apartment building. He seemed to think about it for a bit before perking up. 

“Oh! We’re home.”

Phoenix attempted not to choke on his own spit at that, at Edgeworth implying that it was their home, but was it a fucking task. 

He didn’t mean it like that, he’s drunk right now.

Phoenix tried to get his shit together and thanked the taxi driver, shuffling Edgeworth out of the cab. He was a little wobbly in his movements, but he could still somewhat stand up on his own.

Thankfully.

“Alright, buddy,” Phoenix started, deciding to take the chance to call Edgeworth that when he knew he could totally get away with it now, “lead me to your place.”

Edgeworth nodded sagely. “Certainly,” he said, sounding almost like his usual, eloquent self.

Until he bumped straight into a wall.

“Woah!” Phoenix half exclaimed, half laughed. He rushed to Edgeworth’s side to make sure there weren’t any injuries. “You okay, bud?”

The man in question responded with a hum. “I’m fine. Tired.”

He chuckled. “Point to which apartment is yours, okay?”

They got to Edgeworth’s apartment with little to no issues (Edgeworth was wobbling here and there) and Phoenix asked him for the key to open the door. Once they were inside, he was going to ask where Edgeworth’s room was, but the man plopped himself on the couch in the living room.

“Hey, don’t you want to sleep in your bed? That’s gonna kill your back tomorrow.”

“Hmm. No. Don’t want to move,” Edgeworth said, closing his eyes and lying down on his couch.

“Come on, you have to at least change out of your suit.”

Edgeworth groaned, a bit like a child. Phoenix tried not to laugh.

“C’mon,” Phoenix urged, trying to lift Edgeworth. “Up you go.”

Edgeworth obeyed him the rest of the way until they got to his room, only muttering to himself a little bit.

Phoenix sat Edgeworth on his bed as he looked in his drawers for some kind of pajamas. 

“The top drawer has my night clothes,” Edgeworth slurred, lying back on the bed.

“Yes, sir,” Phoenix said, hearing Edgeworth giggle behind him. He grabbed what looked like really fancy pajamas—pink satin ones.

Wow. This guy lives a life of luxury.

He turned and placed them on the bed, tilting his head when Edgeworth was still giggling. “What’s so funny?”

“You…you called me—” Edgeworth went into a fit of giggles. “You called me sir. I usually call you that.”

Phoenix laughed, scrunching his face in confusion. “What? You’ve never called me that in your life.”

Edgeworth’s brow furrowed. “Oh. Really? I guess I’ve only said it in my dreams.”

Phoenix froze, feeling heat creep into his cheeks. 

He didn’t mean…No, that’s crazy.

“U-Uh.” He coughed. “Okay, then.” He cleared his throat, patting the pajamas on the bed. “You think you can change by yourself?”

Edgeworth nodded. “Indeed. Verily.”

Phoenix raised an eyebrow. “Well, okay. I’m gonna get you a glass of water okay? Give you some time to change."

He led himself into the kitchen and prepared two glasses, feeling a bit thirsty himself. 

He tried not to think about the comment Edgeworth made.

He failed. Several times.

After trying to calm himself and get rid of any inappropriate thoughts, he went back toward Edgeworth’s room holding the two glasses of water. 

“Edgeworth?” he called out. “You changed?”

Phoenix heard some sort of affirmative sound, pushing the door open. He placed the glasses of water on the nightstand.

When he looked at Edgeworth, his breath stopped.

Why does he have to be so goddamn cute? WHY.

He looked absolutely adorable in his fancy pajamas—even had a little sleeping cap on. It was so unfair.

“Before you sleep, drink some water for me okay?”

Edgeworth opened his eyes, gray irises staring at him. After a moment, he smiled softly. “Alright,” he said, rising a bit out of bed into a sitting position. He took the glass of water closest to him and started to drink.

Satisfied, Phoenix took the other glass and started drinking some of his own. Edgeworth settled his glass down on the nightstand and looked at him intensely.

He lowered his glass a bit, tilting his head. “What is it?”

“This is not a dream…is it?” Edgeworth mused, before shaking his head. “No, I don’t think it is.”

Phoenix smiled softly before taking another sip of his water.

“If this were one of my usual dreams, we’d be kissing.”

Phoenix promptly inhaled his water, going into a coughing fit.

What????

While he coughed and coughed, Phoenix’s mind went racing. Surely this was just Edgeworth talking nonsense, right? It had to be. The guy hated him until a few days ago! And even then it was pretty shaky ground!

There was no way Edgeworth had dreams about kissing him. No way at all.

…Right?

“Are you alright?” Edgeworth asked, and woah, when did he get up out of bed? He was in Phoenix’s space, putting a hand on his shoulder. 

It didn’t really help the situation.

“I’m fine,” Phoenix choked out, in between a few coughs. He waved his hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about me, go sleep.”

Edgeworth peered at him for a few more moments, before he relented, going back toward the bed and laying down. “If you insist.”

I gotta get outta here before I do something stupid. 

There were a few moments of silence as Phoenix simply watched Edgeworth settle himself on the bed.

We’ll talk about it in the morning.

There was always going to be morning. And if there wasn’t, they’d find a chance to talk about it eventually. Phoenix would make sure of it.

It’s not like the guy was going anywhere any time soon—they’d find the time.

After a few more moments of silence, Phoenix figured Edgeworth had fallen asleep. He clicked the lamp on the nightstand off, cascading the room in darkness.

“Goodnight, Edgeworth,” he said softly. 

Tomorrow.

He walked toward the door, ready to leave the room.

“Phoenix?”

He stopped. That was the first time Edgeworth called him that in years. It made his heart pound.

“...Yes?”

“Thank you again,” Edgeworth murmured, so softly it made his chest ache. “You saved me.”

And it was the way Edgeworth said it, like he was in awe, that made Phoenix speechless.

He swallowed. “Of course.” He lingered for a few more moments. “Goodnight, Edgeworth," he repeated, feeling like it was the only thing he could say.

“Goodnight, Wright.”

Phoenix stared for a beat longer in the darkness before he forced his legs to move out of the doorway.

They’d talk about it tomorrow.

[elvisabutler]

purest of them all

fandom: austin butler rating: m pairing: biker austin butler x female reader word count: 3425 warnings: possessive behavior. p in v sex ( unprotected ). biker austin. sex in front of a mirror. virginity sex. implied past oral ( m and f receiving ). implied depression-ish on austin's part. stomach bulges caused by cocks. me mildly fudging what a first time feels like though truthfully they come in all shapes and sizes. author’s note: welcome to day 12 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, virginity kink/innocence kink with austin butler. so i went biker austin with this because uh i was really struggling with this prompt and that's where the writing flowed. consider this kind of a precursor to the day two fic of show 'em. beyond that, i do hope y'all enjoy and if you uh saw the naked version of this fic. no you didn't. i also am mildly unsure i stuck to this prompt. but i think i have mentioned austin is a little harder for me to write nowadays for a number of reasons so it kind of was me going with what i could write versus deleting ten more drafts. also this is one of two fics getting posted today, because hey, cold had me down for the count for a while so why not feed y'all twice in one day.

You're not the type Austin usually goes for and he figures maybe that's a part of your charm. Figures that if you were like every other woman who's wanted to crawl onto his bike, he'd have taken you to bed and been done with you. Sure, he'd have treated you right but Austin— wouldn't have stayed the night. He wouldn't have allowed himself to fall so head over heels for you that he'd give you everything you could even think to ask him for.

You are a light in the tunnel that is his life, a goal to strive for and a promise of perhaps making it on the straight and narrow. You were also perhaps one of the most innocent people he had ever met, one of the purest people he had ever met. An angel wrapped in sweaters and comfortable clothes to suit your mood. An angel who for some reason likes to spend almost all of your free time with him, brightening his days as much as you can. Tonight is no exception though for once he's not doing anything club related and can just focus on you.

The two of you rarely go on public dates, something about how he doesn't want people to use you against him and doesn't want you to be hurt until you've decided you truly want to be a part of his life as it is now. Until you realize just what being with him in this period of his life truly entails. Part of your charm may be that innocence and pure light that emanates from you but it's also something he couldn't bare to ruin in any way that was less than pleasurable.

Still, he makes exceptions for important dates and what was more important than your anniversary. Those sort of things deserved a proper date with you curled against him inhaling his natural musk and cologne. He could move his head and smell your shampoo and just this once he could allow the both of you to enjoy a simple date. Nothing could have prepared him for the present you were going to give him tonight.

The thing about you that you've told Austin before is that you're a virgin. At the time he had laughed a little and made a joke about that's why you were so sweet and innocent only to earn a subtle slap to his arm and a warming of your skin that had him kissing any embarrassment you had away. It's not that you hadn't wanted to lose it, but when one grows up religious you either are promiscuous in spite of your parents' desires or you aren't. In college you had thought it was going to happen eventually, that you'd meet someone that maybe you'd fall in love with and they'd take your virginity or perhaps you'd lose it at a party or just some way that wasn't too heinous.

Life happens though and you were always too busy, even through law school you found yourself so busy and with nary a moment to yourself. You suppose it's funny how you met Austin so soon after finishing law school and finding a job. If you were the type to believe in fate you'd have said that you were destined to meet Austin then and only then. You're not, though and it's merely a coincidence— a happy one, mind— but a coincidence nonetheless. Whatever the case was, over the past year you've realized that you and Austin need each other— not in a sort of codependent way but one where you bring out the best in each other.

He's never pressed for you to have sex with him, sure the two of you have fooled around, with him between your legs his tongue on your clit and you between his legs, tongue tracing the veins of his cock and inhaling the unique musk from between his legs. But going all the way hasn't been something you've ever felt he needed you to do— were required to do to keep him in your bed. Perhaps that's why you found yourself finally read to actually go all the way with him. Perhaps that's why you felt the need for everything to be special. It's not that you needed to be. But after the amount of waiting Austin has gone through and after the patience he had shown you, it only seemed prudent to make sure both of you could take your time. It seemed like a good idea to allow him to show you the pleasure you had only been given hints of before.

It's for all those reasons that you found yourself opening your door in a new dress with a simple pair of matching white underwear underneath. Austin would enjoy the laugh, you think, his virginal girlfriend all dolled up in white panties. Probably make a joke about how he didn't think you could still wear them after all the times he had tasted your release on his tongue.

Austin's gaze has your heart fluttering inside your chest. The man who always looks so tough and tries to keep himself shuttered is looking at you as if you've hung the moon, the stars and everything in between. If you look hard enough there's even a hint of hunger for you but it's gone in a flash as he smiles. "You look nice."

A shrug is your only response as you step outside and pull him into a hug as you shut your door. "It's date night, why wouldn't I?" You smile back and bite at your lip. "Aus?"

His eyes for a moment stop flitting around the area, checking for anything that could cause you harm before he stares you down. "Hm?"

"After dinner, do you mind staying the night? I— I have a surprise I think you might enjoy." A surprise you hope he'll enjoy. A surprise you hope both of you can enjoy against your sheets or against the wall. A shudder passes through you at the image as Austin frowns, moving to take off his jacket.

"Here take—" his mouth opens to speak only to have you swatting his hands away. "Got it, you don't want the jacket. I— Of course I'll stay the night. Especially if you have a surprise for me. You know you didn't have—"

You cut him off with a short kiss, shaking your head. "It's our anniversary, I wanted to get you something. Besides, I think— You'll really like this surprise."

Without missing a beat, Austin wraps his arm around your shoulder and kisses the top of your head, pulling you close to his chest as you both start to walk to his bike. "Can I get a hint?"

What happens for most of the dinner is Austin trying and failing to guess just what surprise you had in store through mouthfuls of food and through causal brushes of his hand against your body. The brushes shouldn't have you on edge and yet they do, igniting embers low in your abdomen as you see Austin pout like he's just a normal man.

That— That more than anything confirms that you're making the right choice by giving this to him. He may be a biker and may be the sort of man you could have never seen yourself with before but at his heart he's still just the guy who treats you better than anyone else has before. If one earned another's virginity he would have earned yours in spades.

Normally when you ride back, Austin has you behind him, always wanting to feel your arms around his waist squeezing tight when he takes a tight turn or when he goes just that little too fast. Tonight though, tonight he chooses to behind you, his arms and body enveloping yours in a way that you've felt when he hugs you. This though? This is something else entirely, the vibration of the motorcycle earning a gasp or two from you as you press against Austin's front. You swear you feel him getting harder against you and you nearly groan from the knowledge. Instead you try and focus on Austin's body heat and what you plan on doing with him the second you get home.

The ride feels longer than it ever has before and yet when it ends you both leisurely slide off his motorcycle as if you're both not so keyed up that you're practically vibrating despite the lack of a motor between your legs. Speaking isn't something you want to do, not until you're inside and Austin doesn't appear to be much better. When the door finally shuts you watch as he leans against it, resisting the urge to touch you.

"So, what exactly is this surprise?" Your answer won't change anything from the look in Austin's eyes and yet you can't help the way you cast your eyes down, mildly embarrassed. It's best to rip the band-aid off, isn't it?

"I— I want to have sex with you. Like— full penetrative—"

Austin cuts you off with a kiss that you gasp into, the way he crossed the distance between the two of you startling you. His tongue caresses yours, soft and gentle almost as if he figures you might break if he goes any harder before he pulls away. "You want my cock in that—"

"In my— uh what do you call it? Gorgeous pussy?" The words leave your mouth casually as if you had told Austin the weather outside and the look on his face has you giggling lightly. His mouth is open just ever so slightly allowing you to see that pink tongue of his and practically see the way he's salivating for you. "That's what you call her, right?"

There's an innocence in the question that has Austin pulling you in for another kiss and pressing the full front of his body against you. It is what he calls her and yet you're asking him to make sure. You're asking him as if you haven't had your hands in his hair yanking and crying out when he mutters sweet nothings against it. A whine leaves your lips when you try to grind up against him only to have his hand on your hip stop you. "You're sure? Babe— If you're not— I can't stop myself if I start."

Your hand moves down between the two of you and Austin has nary a minute before he feels your hand cupping him through his jeans. A groan leaves his parted lips and you are powerful. Maybe it's just the rush from hearing Austin's groan but maybe that's what losing your virginity is supposed to be, realizing you have the power to bring someone to their knees just because they love one body part of yours so intensely it could burn them. His cock feels so heavy in your hand and your chest heaves not once, not twice but three times as you mouth at his jaw, his stubble tickling you just a tad.

"This is your surprise. I— I want to feel you inside of me. Feel how it is to take your cock inside more than just my mouth." If there's more words inside your head or in your mouth, they're completely eviscerated by Austin's simple action of picking you up with a grunt, shifting your body weight so that you can try to wrap your thighs around his waist. All you hear is Austin mumbling something against your neck that sounds like "all mine."

Austin's low and almost choked off moan when he starts to pull up your dress after he's gotten you on the bed. Your whites panties are exposed bit by bit until Austin sees them fully and freezes. You had had planned this down to the point of making yourself seem as virginal as possible. You made yourself seem like the purest of them all just for tonight. He hates to ruin the panties but he can't— he can't wait to drag them off your body and instead just slides them off to the side, marveling in the way you shiver at the motion.

"I gotcha," Austin pants as he starts to slide with painstaking slowness into you, watching your face for any minute changes to tell him he's hurting you. "You're— Can't believe you're letting me do this for you." To you, he means but he knows you'll understand the sentiment.

"Why— wouldn't I?" Your breath catches as he thrusts completely in, earning a moan as your body takes in the burn and stretch of his cock. "You're— You'd never hurt me."

Intentionally or unintentionally, if you're being honest with yourself. It's one of so many reasons you knew you could trust him with this. The reason you could trust him to show you the unique pleasure that comes from your first time being fucked by another person. He could coax you through any pain and discomfort you feel.

A low growl leaves his lips that he tries to muffle against your neck. Hearing these words come from you feels like praise and it spurs him to do even better, to make sure even if you leave him you'll never forget this night. His hand moves down to play ever so lightly with your clit even as his cock brushes against it with every thrust.

"I wouldn't. I'd never hurt someone who looks as gorgeous on my cock as you do," Austin murmurs, watching as your eyes roll back into your head for a moment. "I dreamed about this. Woke up with my hand on my cock, wishing it was you. You're taking me so well, babe. Natural. You're— fuck— you're a natural at this."

You don't try to speak, instead letting the way your pussy clenches at the praise tell Austin just what his words are doing to you. He smiles even has he grunts, delighting in the reaction. "You like hearing that? Like hearing how you feel like you're made for my cock? How I'm so fucking thankful you waited to give this to me? How I'm honored?"

His fingers brush against your puffy clit softly and yet it feels as if he's pressed a live wire down against it, your thighs clenching on either side of his legs. It's too much and yet too little all at once. You try to move away, try and tell him that this is too much and yet Austin's a little bit ahead of you. "Let go, I'll— I've got you, remember? You're giving me this on our anniversary. I'll— Let go. Let me see you come on my cock like I've only ever dreamed of."

Somehow those are the magic words for you, somehow like a command you find yourself leaning back, head thumping against the pillow behind you as Austin fucks you slowly through your orgasm, watching as pleasure he's seen before on your face take on a new form in this one instant. If he wasn't already almost irrevocably in love with you— he would be now. This would have had him on his knees worshipping you until you fell into his arms. Instead he watches you come with a silent cry with him following not too far behind as your pretty pussy clenches around him. He looks at you nearly fucked out and the mirror hanging on the wall and gets an idea.

His hand presses against the bulge he can see in your stomach and he marvels in how you practically keen at the sensation, your head flopping back against his chest. You've always been responsive but this is another thing entirely. It's another thing entirely to see your face in the mirror, pleasure covering every inch of your face.

"Babe, I want you to look at us. See what you look like with my cock inside you," Austin murmurs against your neck, lips pressing wet kisses all around it. He watches as you move your head back down and try to focus on the mirror, gasping as you see the outline of his cock pressing against your lower stomach. "You see it? See how full of me you are? See what I'm doing to you."

Words are supposed to be your strong suit but you can't help but stutter out your response. "I— That's— Aus— You're right there. I can—" Your words stop for a moment only to be replaced with a low whine as he presses down. "You're— God, Aus, just, I can feel you. Why does this feel good?"

Because it shouldn't, you think. It shouldn't feel good and yet somehow it heightens every sensation you feel and somehow helps to overcome the occasional tightness you feel from this being your first time.

"I told you. You— It's like it was made for my cock." His answer is almost breathless, as he watches and feels the bulge as he thrusts. "Want— You need to see how much you're mine, how I'm making— No one is going to fuck you like this."

You shake your head almost violently in agreement. "I don't— oh— want anyone to. Just you. I want—" A whine leaves your lips after one particularly sharp thrust. "Old lady. Wanna be her."

Somewhere in the back of your head, you realize you sound incoherent with those words, but from the way one of Austin's hands tightens on your hip you figure he understands exactly what you mean. A shaky exhale leaves his mouth before he tries to nuzzle at your ear, hand petting your stomach. "Say that again."

"I wanna be your old lady." Except it still sounds half slurred as your pussy tries to clench around him, the feeling of his hands setting fire to every inch of your skin it touches. "Yours."

Austin ought to say something, ought to tell you that's the words he's wanted to hear for ages from your lips but he doesn't. Instead he nips at your earlobe and forces you to look up at the vision of the two of you in the mirror. "All mine? Never gonna be anyone else's?"

"No." You utter, watching your tits bounce with each thrust of his cock. You watch the sweat drip down your skin and slide against his body. You don't want to be anyone else's and this confirmed it and settled it. You're Austin's until he's through with you or one of you dies. Maybe it makes you silly and stupid but in this moment you're so in love with Austin Butler that the idea of not being by his side isn't one you ever want to contemplate.

Austin's hand that's been settled where his cock could be seen moves up to your chest, grabbing ahold of your breasts and forcing your body to stay upright and looking straight on into the mirror. He can see how you're panting, how your lips are spit slick and how your hair is a wild untamed mane that he caused. He did this to you, you've allowed him to have you look so debauched that he doubts he'll ever forget this moment of seeing you laid bare for him in front of the mirror with a white dress and white panties on the bed behind you. His eyes drift to from your almost forgotten about dress to you and back again before he feels you clench around him, whimpering something about how it's too much.

"Shh, I— I'm almost there. You've been so good to me, babe. So good to me." He praises you, his thrusts getting a little sloppier until you feel the warmth of his release inside you. Both of your legs are a little wobbly but somehow he manages to get you both to the bed. A groan of discomfort leaves your mouth as he starts to pull out, the sensation feeling as if you're being left empty even as you know the brush of his cock against any part of your swollen pussy or clit or labia is too much right now. You reach out when he stands up, trying to get him to come back to bed only for him to return with a warm washcloth that he uses to gently clean you both up before flopping down next to you.

Without missing a beat you move to snuggle against his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum in your ears before he speaks. "I'm not letting you go."

You place a kiss to his chest, right where his heart is. "I don't want you to."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @lookingforrainbows, @araxw, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @slowsweetlove, @kxnnxy, @meetmeatyourworst, @purejasmine, @stylespresleyhearted, @powerofelvis, @amydarcimarie, @thegettingbyp2, @austinswhitewolf, @richardslady121 if i have not included you know it’s not meant to be a slight, it’s literally i don’t know if you want to be tagged as far as austin fics or elvis fics, drop me a comment or a message and i’ll add away tbh.

[silveryclear]

♟️Yandere Villain x Hero Reader part 1

♟️ Male Yandere Villain X Female Hero Reader

♟️ CW: Smut build up, coercion, manipulation, implied kidnapping, obsessive behavior

♟️ 2.4 k words

You were a rookie superhero graced with the powers of flight, great strength, and agility. You also had a great heart and the motivation to help people. In less than a year, you had managed to capture the hearts of all the beloved citizens that lived in the city you grew up in. Your debut as a hero was nothing short of a success! People loved you, authorities respected you, and most of all, you managed to reduce crimes committed by supervillains by 60%! In honor of your heroic efforts, the city had organized a ball in your honor, a masquerade one to be exact. This gave you the perfect opportunity to enjoy the celebration without being in the center of attention. Ironic enough, you were never one to participate in places with large crowds. But the city had put in so much work for you, you couldn’t not attend.

The party was bustling by the time you arrived. Already was there a large crowd waltzing in the middle of the ballroom, the band playing wondrous music. Your eyes flit over the crowd, admiring each and every mask as well as their matching dresses and suits. People were talking, dancing, eating… just generally enjoying their night. And you can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment wash over you, knowing that you’ve contributed to the safety and peace of mind of thousands of people. Although, a small, anxious part of you couldn’t be quelled so easily. You knew this is temporary, just a fleeting moment of tranquility before disaster strikes again. In your mind, this disaster takes the form of a person. A very evil person. One of the very cunning villains that have managed to wreak havoc for years without getting caught once.

Hades.

He has never shown his face, not once. The information the police have of him is virtually non existent, and the information that they do have are mostly rumors. But one thing is for certain: he has never has done any of the dirty work himself. He always has contacts, pawns, and a whole lot of power. A fitting name for someone who is considered “The King of the Underworld”. It is said that he just gazes from above (or below) at the chaos he has engineered, like it’s some twisted game of chess for him. And while you’re not one to ever back down from a fight, you can’t help but shiver at the thought of him taking you on as his new opponent. With all the attention you’ve garnered, your assumption isn’t far fetched.

However, you might’ve underestimated just how long this match had gone for.

And if you were even a player at all.

In the middle of your anxious thoughts, you felt a tap on your shoulder, promptly breaking you out of your inner turmoil. You quickly turn around and come face to face with piercing green eyes. Anything that you had meant to say died in your throat as soon as your eyes met his… and the rest of him. He stood tall, towering over you even with your 4 inch heels. He was also dressed to kill— wearing a black fitting suit with a black dress shirt with a few open buttons to show off his collar and part of his chest. The suit was lined up with green, intricate embellishments that matched his mask and complimented his eyes stunningly. His hair was neatly styled in twists and he even wore jewelry and smokey eyes that made his dark complexion glow. This man was drop dead gorgeous.

His lips broke out in a charming smile and you felt yourself get—metaphorically— shot in the heart.

“Are you alright? You’ve been staring off into space for a while…” The man spoke in a low, sultry voice that made your insides quiver.

You cough and chuckle nervously, flustered for being caught ogling this fine man like a creep. “Y-Yes! I’m sorry, you caught me off guard. I was… thinking about work.” You sputter, trying to find an excuse that wasn’t necessarily false.

He chuckles, still gazing at you with those magnetic eyes. “Ah, so that’s what had you twisting your beautiful face in worry. I was hoping that you would do me the honor of joining me for a dance? I think you could use a break from your worries, we are at the ball of the year, aren’t we?”

You can feel your cheeks heat up from the compliment and you feel nervous, but excited to dance with this alluring mystery man. You smile. “That, we are. A dance may be just what I need.”

He smiles back, stretching out his large hand for you to take. “May I?”

You place your hand in his, his palm smooth, as opposed to yours that has been calloused from all your training and hero work. Fingers brush against the palm of your hand and he smiles kindly. “Indeed, the hands of hard working woman.” He says before bringing your hand towards his lips, kissing the back of your hand gently as the looks firmly into your eyes. Your face heats up once again and you can’t bring yourself to look away.

This goes beyond what you expected from this ball.

The man pulls you the dance floor in the center of the ballroom, holding your hand and hip as you glided on the dance floor along with the music.

“How are you feeling now? I hope I’m doing a good job at keeping those thoughts away.” He smiles and twirls you around and brings you back into his arms.

You giggle, actually allowing yourself to enjoy the party that was meant for you. “I’m actually having fun. I don’t particularly like being around large crowds, but you’ve made it enjoyable. Thank you.” You give him a genuine smile.

You swore you saw something dark, something primal flash in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. “Not a fan of crowds, huh? Can’t say I’m fond of them either. I work remotely so these are the only moments where I engage with the masses.”

“Lucky.” You mutter playfully.

He laughs, a deep, melodic sound that made your heart race. “I wouldn’t say that. I mean, if I hadn’t crawled out of my cave tonight, I wouldn’t have met you~” He gives you a twirl and pulls you closer, stepping back in sync.

Damn. He’s smooth.

“Besides, how could I pass up the chance of dancing with the city’s greatest hero without interruption~?”

Your step falters and stumble backwards, bracing yourself for a fall that never comes. Instead, you’re held by the mysterious man who has made the fall into a dip, making it seem part of the dance. He smiles coyly. “Did I say something wrong?”

You’re pulled back up and you feel that same sinking sensation that you had earlier. You compose yourself and clear your throat. “How did you know it was me?”

“Oh, I’m something of a fanboy. I could recognize you in a heartbeat.” He smiles, yet, it doesn’t comfort you.

“Everyone here is a fan, yet you’re the only one who recognized me.” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

You can feel him pull you closer, your bodies close enough to feel his quickened heartbeat. You could only make sure your steps were in sync as you looked over his shoulder. He places one hand on your back, his fingers running down your spine and kept a firm grip on your hip. You shiver, not sure if it’s from delight or fear. His lips suddenly hover above your ear as he whispers, “True, but I’m your biggest fan~”

You sense a change in his demeanor, although subtle, you learned to catch these subtleties from your experience fighting villains. However, it wasn’t enough to detect this one fast enough.

You take a sharp breath. “Who are you?”

He twirls you again and brings you face to face with him. He grins devilishly. “What does your gut say~?”

You breathing becomes ragged and you feel your blood run cold as your worst fears had come to life.

You just danced and flirted with the devil himself.

You try to pull away from him but he makes sure to keep a tight hold on you while still maintaining the facade of dancing.

"Now, now, the dance isn't over and we can't have our Great Hero looking too out of sorts. No one would know the city is safe and in good hands if they see you panicking on the dance floor. And who knows what I just might do if that were to happen." Your eyes widen and Hades laughs darkly as he continues to dance with you in close proximity, his eyes lingering on the features of your face and the shape of your body. "I was worried you wouldn’t have recognize me at all. I've always wanted to dance with you, Hero."

Your body trembles and your breathing grows erratic. You can feel his hold loosening slightly and his hand rub your back comfortingly as he whispers soothing words into your ear. “That’s it, baby… just breathe…” For your sake, you forget who the words are coming from as you focus on your breathing.

Once you feel calm, you grit your teeth. And scowl at him. “Do you get a kick out of making me look like a fool?”

Hades hums and grins devilishly. "I do, especially when getting the satisfaction of knowing I fooled the city's hero into dancing and flirting with me. Fitting for the one responsible for all my misery."

He continues holding you close to his chest and brings his face inches from your face with a wicked laugh. He gets even closer so when he speaks you feel his breath on your ear. “But I will be honest, dancing with you, feeling your body pressed against mine, seeing you flustered up close… fills me with another type of type of satisfaction~”

You glare at him as you keep dancing. You pretend everything is fine as to not arouse any suspicion from the rest of the crowd. “What do you want?”

Hades laughs wickedly, his dark green eyes shining in the dim lights of the dance floor. “That’s the million dollar question, isn’t it?” He then puts a hand on your hip and grips tightly, bringing you closer. “I came to collect my prize~”

You furrow your eyebrows and look over at him, confused. “What are you talking about? What prize?”

Hades grins, finding your confusion amusing. “Why, you, of course~” He caresses your face gently as if handling a work of art. His eyes roam your body hungrily. “And you are all wrapped up and pretty for me too~”

You swat his hand away and scowl. “You must be out of your damn mind if you think for a second that I’d go anywhere with you.”

His grin only turns more sinister as he grabs your face tightly and pulls you face to face. Your eyes widen and you feel your body begin to tremble again. “I think it‘ll do you well to learn some manners. Especially when you, dear Hero, are mine.”

“I don’t owe you anything, you brute!” You growl at him. Even in your position, you will never submit to a villain.

He chuckles darkly and his grip on your face tightens. “Oh, that’s where you’re wrong, my darling Hero. You owe me everything.”

Hades stares at your confused expression with amusement. The grip on your face disappears and he returns to dancing with you as if nothing had happened. His piercing green eyes stare back at yours, demanding your attention. “You see, little hero, I have powers beyond your comprehension, superpowers and earthly powers alike. I control every single person inside and out of this building.” He grips your hip and pulls you closer, grinning madly. “I have your beloved city under my thumb.”

With every word he utters, the feeing of dread and fear continues to build up in the pit of your stomach.

Hades twirls you and brings you back towards him, your steps out of sync, but he manages to dance through it quite proficiently. “Do you know what that means?” He whispers, breath fanning your face gently. “Do you understand what I’m trying to imply?”

You stare back at him, holding his gaze as you nod.

He grins widely. “Tell me.” He demands with a smooth voice.

You take a sharp breath. “I-I became a hero… because of you.” As you said it out loud you felt the feeling helplessness slowly latch onto you— breaking you. Behind the words you uttered, lies a hidden truth: For every great source of good in the world, there’s an even greater source of darkness pulling it’s strings.

“Good girl~” He coos and pinches your cheek. “Such a good girl. Did you really think it was that easy to become a hero? You never questioned why everything went so smoothly.” He chuckles and caresses your cheek softly. “That’s how I knew you’d make the perfect toy for me to sway the masses~”

You feel like you’re about to throw up. Tears brim your eyes and you bite your lip to hold back a sob.

Hades’s face softens slightly as he pulls you into his chest and rubs your back soothingly. “Don’t cry, little hero. I know your little fantasy world collapsed— But I’ll help you see the beauty in the world I’ve created. After all,”

He leans back and grabs your chin. “I created it just for you~”

Hades pulls you into a hot, sensual kiss— groaning once his lips touched yours, deepening the kiss, delving his tongue into your warm mouth and tasting you. His kiss only grew with intensity once he finally got a taste of you after craving you all night. You can only stand there and take it as if you feel an incredible force keeping you from leaving.

Hades pulls away from the kiss and your breath hitches once you gaze into his eyes. The lust and possessiveness that he had restrained during the evening now emanated from him in waves. His breathing is ragged and his pupils are dilated. The feeling of dread you felt before was nothing compared to what you’re feeling right now.

He pulls you close, holding you tightly against his body, like a viper wrapping its coils around their prey. Hades whispers seductively, “You are mine, little hero. And I’ll make sure to show you tonight just how much I crave you.”

You overestimated your role in this game. You were never a player. Just like everyone else, you are just another piece in a game of chess you weren’t even aware was happening . And you were his final piece to acquire.

Just like that, you were his. As you were always meant to be.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I think it's clear Lion Guy has climbed AT LEAST to the top #2 on your fav twst characters list..... but do you think he'll ever surpass J word?? lately you've been rambling a lot abt Leona but tbh it's obvious you rlly rlly love Jade too from all the posts I've read abt your feelings towards him (which have helped me understand and appreciate him more, too!)

sorry if it's smth weird to ask btw, I know feelings/thoughts abt fictional characters sometimes can be pretty personal- so feel free to ignore this 🙇

For your reference, here is my personal Twst tier list ^^ It’s up to date as of the recent book 7 part 12 update. (And to be clear, the characters placed in the same tier are in no particular order; just because Silver is first in the "tolerate" tier doesn't mean I like him any more or less than Deuce, who is next in the row.)

If you’d like more specifics on why I do or don’t like a particular character, please check out my FAQ in the pinned post or look at #character opinion bingo. If the character you’d like me to elaborate on isn’t addressed there, then you may send in an ask about it.

Please remember to be respectful when discussing character preferences; do not attempt to convince others to change their minds or imply/tell them that they are “wrong” for feeling a certain way about a character.

I don’t mind the question! This blog’s a place for me to express myself (whether creatively or critically/more analytically) and to share my opinions on certain aspects of Twst ^^

I don't really think to put specific numbers on characters most of the time because I personally get really anxious about rankings 🤡 According to the same friends that said all of this though, they basically agree that L*ona is pretty much second place or that L*ona has already surpassed J word. A particular friend likes to joke that “it’s Leover”, and another one says, “it’s like Raven divorced J word for L*ona”. And honestly 💦💦 if I'm being 100% truthful, I'm a little scared myself that some cat boy I disliked back in 2020 will shoot right up to the very top 💀 When I think about that... OOooOoOooooOOOGH, IT REALLY GRINDS MY GEARS BECAUSE HE'D BE SO ANNOYING AND SMUG ABOUT WINNING FOR ONCE. Finally clawing his way up from rock bottom... past second place (where he was perpetually trapped for most of his life; second place to his older brother, second place to that lizard, second place to eel)... to snatch the crown from the jaws of defeat... 💢 (You can't see it, but I'm pounding the wall with my fists--)

BUT IT'S OKAY, IT'S OKAY GUYS (<- huffing copium) IT'S JUST THE CONTENT RELEASE BIAS... Like, L*ona has gotten SO much more focus recently that it might be a little unfair to compare the two right now??? He got that Nightmare Suit SSR and played an important role in the Halloween event, then immediately got his time to shine in his book 7 dream, on top of us being forced to go through all five Heartslabyul dreams with him. That's not even mentioning the fact that the Episode of Savanaclaw manga is hyping us up for his OB reveal in January, or his hometown event rerun that's currently going on in the JP server. I keep telling myself that as soon as J word gets a new exciting SSR or story content that I'll swing right back around to him 😭 He hasn't gotten anything substantial lately... And let's be honest here, L*ona has a complete advantage no matter what the situation is for J word simply because L*ona is a dorm leader and an OB boy. There will always be more attention and detail showered upon him and his development over J word's OTL There's just... more L*ona lore to chew on. The other part of it is a large chunk of what I discuss on this blog comes from interactions with my readers. If readers submit more asks about L*ona, then I'll naturally talk about him more. Pair this with the guarantee that he's getting more screen time because of the remaining Heartslabyul dreams, and it becomes constant lion reinforcement.

sdfhladiyofyfaey8gFP9MGEEGA ANyWAY, sorry if that didn't quite answer your question... I didn't want to give a definitive response because I can't really tell what will happen in the future but hey, you guys wouldn't think any less of me if something happens, right 🤡

[nemo-of-house-hamartia]

ok, once more I realize that my own kindness and friendliness has been taken for implied consent, and as always, the troubles that are brewing now are connected to OCs.

So let me be clear and frank one more time, one last time, because I have NO INTENTION of going through what I went through in 2021.

While I am always immensely happy that my Original Characters are enjoyed and that they can serve as source of inspiration, they are NOT however a template for anyone to base their OCs on.

They are not something that you can take in their entirety, change whatever suits you, and then call it your own.

It doesn't work like that, especially because, and allow me to reiterate this once and for all, OCs are *immensely* personal.

They are an extention of the soul of the person that creates them.

So taking whatever suits your fancy and use it for the "aesthetic" or the "vibes" is immensely disrespectful and, dare I say, rather impertinent, especially when both characters happen to belong to the same fandom.

Now, I am not talking about certain tropes and subjects that are typical of certain genre, of course not.

We are all somehow reinveting something that's already there when we work with OCs and stories.

What I am talking about is taking certain specific idiosyncrasies that make a certain character unique, change them to suit your character, and then being SO IMPERTINENT to just call it your own and parading it around without even having the courtesy to quote the person that has inspired you, taking advantage of the fact that I am just a small creator with a small following.

This is a huge No No for me.

Huge.

I appreciate that other creators might have a different opinion or perspective when it comes to OCs, and while I do not share entirely in that, I sure as hell respect it.

But allow me to be crystal clear: if this happens to me, like it had in 2021, that's the *easiest* way to lose all respect I might harbour for you, and I seldomly get mad or angry.

I am always accomodating, always supportive, and I think I have proven it aplenty in the past few years.

But this is something that I cannot condone nor agree with.

And it's not just a matter of ethic, in this sense: it's a matter of also hurting me, and literally put my whole creative process into shamble.

It's a matter of having respect of others.

Now, you might say: who cares if they hurt you? they are characters that do not exist, just move on and have thicker skin!

Well, as I said above, for when it concerns myself, my OCs are an extention of my own soul, a way for me to formulate and explain feelings that sometimes I have a hard time let out; a way for me to actually face, fragmentize and analyze my own trauma through them;

and most important of all, they are OFTEN a love letter to both the world I am exploring with them AND my own husband and child, such as in the case of Jacob and Dorothea,for whom, as I said often in the past 5 years, I have poured A LOT from myself and my husband's own story.

You could say that it probably my fault for having bared my feelings so much and poured so much of myself into a character;

And you might be correct, because I have learned my lesson, and ever since Dorothea and Jacob, no other character has been infused with as much of my own being as they were.

but that doesn't mean that it stings any less when I see it unravels in front of my eyes.

I am tired.

[stormz369]

The King of Hell and Me: Ch 2 - Molting

Chapter Guide Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4

Summary: Lucifer goes missing because he's embarrassed. Preening ensues. Wolf-demon reader. Warnings: fluff, Lucifer being bad at vulnerability, animal characteristics, implied arousal, rated mature (maybe?) Word Count: 3k

Lucifer had his own home, of course. But since the hotel’s grand re-opening, he’d been staying in his suite here. To be closer to Charlie, or to get himself out of his depression funk, or maybe both, it wasn’t clear. Either way, we’d found ourselves spending a lot of time together. We ate breakfast together most days, he told me all about his most recent duck-based inventions, and he was the only person I let into my office while I was doing my work for the hotel. Charlie had hired me as an all-purpose consultant, letting me work on any projects I wanted, and I dove straight into the advertising/community outreach/PR side of things. My work didn’t typically look like much until I had a completed product to present, so I didn’t like to have people watching my process, and as long as I kept her in the loop Charlie didn’t mind my secretive ways. But Lucifer was a creative mind too. He understood that sitting at my desk apparently doing nothing wasn’t actually nothing, and he let me be.

He was also the only person allowed to put things in my office, but that was only because he felt it was odd that I was a wolf without a pack, -because “Even hellhounds have packs, dear girl! Wolf-demons aren’t that uncommon, you need a family!”- and had started making one for me, a slowly growing pack of rubber ducks with wolf ears and fluffy tails. Every so often I’d find a new one in my office, and each one did something unusual. A pair facing each other on the windowsill had a laser between them that would alert us to intruders, but most were silly things like duck-wolves that could jump and growl, or were actually soap dispensers or changed color with the weather. 

It actually worked out to be a mutually beneficial relationship. We both had a tendency to dive headfirst into our hyperfixations, and when one of us did, the other usually managed to keep them from spiraling too far. He’d comb my hair and fur, and remind me to take breaks. I’d bring him dinner and get him out of his room when he was getting frustrated. One time I even sat in the bathroom taking notes while he talked so he could shower without losing his flow. We weren't exactly romantic, but it was far more emotionally intimate than any romantic relationship I’d ever had. And, with no one else filling that role for either of us, we did end up on the receiving end of a lot of ‘old married couple’ jokes. 

And that’s why, when he suddenly just wasn’t at the hotel one morning, I got a bit nervous. And, I’ll be honest, frustrated. I reminded myself that just because we typically spent breakfasts together didn’t mean we had to every day. Just because he’d told me every time he was leaving the hotel for the last few months didn’t mean he was beholden to me. We were friends, but he wasn’t mine and I couldn’t tell him what to do. I had no right or reason to be put off by this unexpected change to my routine. So I ate breakfast alone, went down to my office to work alone, and … couldn’t get into it. I couldn’t focus, everything was just a bit off. I should be able to hear his breathing, see his faint glow out of the corner of my eye, feel his hands in my hair. But I was entirely, soul crushingly, alone. 

I texted him every day for the first week. Then once every few days, which quickly became once a week, but he never responded. He didn’t even look at them. I was starting to think he might be mad at me, but I couldn’t imagine what I could have done to upset him so much. I started working evenings, finding it less uncomfortable to be alone at night, but I had trouble getting much done either way. Charlie started bringing me breakfast in my office when everyone else had dinner. I appreciated that she was making sure I ate, but I was just as worried about her as she was about me. Lucifer hadn’t reached out to her either, and he wasn’t taking her calls, and her calm facade was starting to crack. At least she had Vaggie though. I was just alone.

A month into his disappearance I was working late again. Everyone was in bed, and I was trying to finish up this advertising campaign mock up for Charlie, when I heard the door of the hotel creak open. My ears perked up, and I cracked my office door open, listening carefully. I couldn’t make out who had come to visit. There were footsteps, light and airy but far too heavy to be Lucifer. I sniffed the air, glad for my more animalistic senses, hoping to catch some kind of clue. Friend, or foe? Welcome, or defend? The air smelled … musty, and damp. Something was very off.

I flicked my wrist, extending my claws, and made my way silently down the dark hallway. The intruder stumbled up the stairs, it would be silent to those without acute hearing, but I heard every step. I followed along, trying to visualize where they were from the sounds. They made their way past the elevator and up more flights of stairs, and I tracked along behind them, staying a floor below them to avoid detection. I wanted to know who they were, but I also wanted to know what they were looking for. When they finally made their way down a hallway, I glowered. They were on Charlie’s floor. I waited, listening halfway up the stairs so I could pounce if needed, until I heard them stop at a door. I jumped up, landing a few feet away from the short, trenchcoat clad figure. They jumped, pressing themself against the wall as if they could disappear through it, and dropped … a key?

“... Lucifer?” I whispered.

He turned toward me, a sheepish grin on his face. “... Heeey … I’m home!”

I sighed, scooping up his key and unlocking his door, gesturing for him to go inside. “Don’t wake Charlie.”

He nodded, darting inside. His footfalls were too heavy, he was hunched over a bit, and his back looked bulky under his coat. Something was wrong. He sat awkwardly on the couch, kicking his feet a bit. “Sooo … How’ve you been?”

“How have I been? … Luc, where have you been? … Y- you didn’t call, you didn’t tell anyone where you were going, or when you’d be back, you sneak in in the dead of night in whatever that is, you smell like a drowned bird, and you’re walking like an injured dog. And you ask how I’ve been???” A deranged laugh ripped its way out of my throat as I collapsed onto the seat next to him. “... Do you even care that we’ve all been worried sick? … I … you didn’t text me back … You were just … gone.”

He flinched a bit, hesitantly reaching for my hand. “... I .. I’m sorry, puppy … I didn’t mean to scare you. I just … I had something to attend to.”

I sighed softly, letting him take my hand. “What was so important that you couldn’t even tell us you were ok?”

“I … just had to …” He sighed. “Look, it’s kind of embarrassing, ok? I …” He mumbled something, a low whine in the back of his throat masking his words.

“... What was that?”

“I’m molting, ok?” He whined, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m molting, and I can’t comfortably put my wings away until it’s over, and they’re ugly right now! So I just … I thought I’d just go to the manor until it was over. I was only coming back tonight to get my sketchbook so I could work on a project…”

I blinked a bit, trying not to laugh. “... Right. … Just so I’m clear, cause I didn’t really interact with birds on earth. Molting is the one where birds lose a bunch of feathers and get new ones, right?” He nodded. “And it’s a yearly thing?”

He nodded again, “For most birds. Angels get a little one each year, and a big one each decade. It takes forever! It’s … unpleasant. Messy …��� He grumbled softly; “humiliating.”

“Humiliating? It’s just part of having wings, isn’t it? How is that humiliating?”

“... You’ve seen my wings, what did you think of them?”

I let out a sigh, thinking. “... They’re bigger than I expected, but that makes sense since you’re not a bird. They’d have to be pretty big to lift you up … unless you’ve got hollow bones and they’re just ostentatious?” I chuckled a bit, hoping to lighten his mood, but it didn’t seem to work. “... They’re beautiful, and they look really soft … You look so majestic when you fly …”

“Exactly. … Beautiful. Majestic. That’s what they’re supposed to be … but when the molt comes they’re … really not that. … Molting is messy, and itchy, and … gross! … I look like a plucked chicken under this coat…” He whined softly, frustrated tears pricking at his eyes as he hid his face in his hands. “And the worst part is that I can’t even rush it along like we did in heaven, because I can’t reach!”

“... Can’t reach? … Do you have to pluck something, or?”

He nodded. “At the end of the molt the new feathers have these keratin sheaths that have to be removed … In heaven we’d get a few trusted angels together and circle up, but I can’t do that here! So I just have to wait for them to peel off on their own!”

I frowned softly, gently stroking his shoulder. He whined softly, looking at me hesitantly. “Lucifer, … I’m sure this is a … sensitive topic, and I’m sure there’s a reason you didn’t ask, but … if you wanted to ask, … I would help. And I promise, I wouldn’t judge you for what they look like right now, or talk to anyone else about it, or anything like that … It’s just like when you got that matt out of my fur, that was pretty embarrassing for me, but I couldn’t see it well enough to get it out myself. So you sat down with me, and you took a set of combs, and detangling spray, and a pair of scissors, and you fixed it for me. … You could have just cut it out, but you didn’t. You sat there and meticulously detangled it for hours, and then you trimmed everything so it wouldn’t get bad so easily again. Remember? … I could do the same for you.”

He nodded slowly, sighing softly. “I just … I didn’t want you to see … you don’t understand, they look really bad right now …”

“So did my neck.”

He thought for a moment, sighing before he carefully slipped the ugly beige trench coat off. His wings were pressed firmly against his back, almost trembling. He turned away, letting me get a good look at them. The majority of his flight feathers had already gone through the process, but about half of the fluffy down feathers were still encased, or partially encased, in cylindrical sheaths. I smiled softly, gently stroking down his spine. “It really doesn’t look so bad, Luci. Let’s get comfy, ok? Do you wanna lay down somewhere?”

A shiver went up his spine, and his wings attempted to puff up in response. It did look a bit sad, but I wasn’t gonna tell him that. He was feeling uncomfortable enough as it was. His wings were usually a source of great pride for him, I wasn’t about to make this harder for him. He slowly nodded, and carefully got up. I followed him to his bedroom, a little concerned by how wobbly he seemed.

“... Luc, is the molt really the only thing that’s going on? You seem a bit … off?”

He collapsed onto his bed, pulling a pillow under his chest and crossing his arms under himself. “It’s enough … The little molts take a lot of energy, but the big ones … The big ones really suck … I’ve been in bed pretty much since I left …”

I nodded, sitting next to him. “I see … so, I just start peeling these things off the feathers?”

He nodded. “Gently, please … You can roll them a bit if they resist, but if that doesn’t work move on to the next one. Most of them should be ready though.”

I hummed softly, gently taking the wing in front of me and carefully extending it. He groaned softly, following my movements compliantly. I let the wing rest on my legs and began carefully sliding my fingertips over the little cylinders. Most of the keratin sheaths started to flake and crumble away under my touch, and I carefully rolled the slightly more resistant ones between my fingers. Under my touch, fluffy down and contour feathers began to emerge. I gently brushed the debris away, careful of my claws. I knew I had to do this perfectly; to prove he could trust me with things like this. He wasn’t moving or making any noises though, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or bad.

I worked methodically from the bottom where his wing attached to his back, up and out to the wingtip, periodically brushing the detritus away and stroking his freshly exposed feathers. I finished the right side and got halfway through the wings on the left before I ran into one that started to peel away, but then didn’t want to budge. I was about to move on like he’d told me, but I paused when I heard the first noise Lucifer made since I started touching his wings; a high pitched whine. He squirmed uncomfortably, and his wings ruffled up a bit.

“... Luci? D- did I hurt you?”

“Noooo … I want it off …” He whimpered softly, pressing his face into the pillow. “... C- Can you scratch it a bit? Just a bit!”

I nodded, humming softly my agreement, and carefully ran a claw along the sheath. His high whine returned, but this time it seemed a bit more … pleased? I scratched again, watching little bits of the sheath peel away. After just a little bit more the sheath fell away entirely, releasing its fluffy feather, and Lucifer sighed happily. 

“Ohhh fuck~ … Oh, that’s so much better! Your hands are magic~” He moaned softly, bringing a blush to my cheeks.

I cleared my throat; “... I’m glad you’re liking it, Luc.”

I carefully continued to the tip of his wing. There were only a few that hadn’t been ready to go yet, and his wings were back to their full, shiny, fluffy glory. He sighed happily, but didn’t move to get up, so I just continued to stroke his feathers.

“Ahh~ … Puppy, that’s wonderful~ … But y- … you do know, wings are sensitive, yeah?” He slowly lifted his head, looking over his shoulder at me. The heat on his face made me squirm shyly, and I shakily removed my hands.

“S- Sorry … I …” I blushed bright red, scooting backwards. He whined softly, slowly sitting up and facing me.

He shakily reached for my hand, running his thumb over my fingers. “... I wasn’t trying to make you stop. …”

I blushed even more, looking up at him shyly. “... So … should I continue?”

He slowly lifted my hand to his lips, kissing my knuckles gently. “... Only if you wish to.”

I nodded slowly, shakily pushing him to lay back down. He did, watching me out of the corner of his eye, and I straddled his hips, stroking his wings gently.

“... They’re so beautiful, Luci … You are beautiful …” I was mesmerized, letting my hands trail along the soft feathers. 

He sighed happily, settling under me. “... I cannot believe I let this go on for a full blessed month when I could have had your hands on me this whole time …”

I chuckled softly, continuing to preen him gently. “Never again, yes? You come to me for this, whenever you need it. Or even if you just want it. … You take care of me, and I take care of you.”

“Because we’re an old married couple.” He nodded, yawning softly. “Yes, love, anything wifey wants~”

I blushed brightly, trying desperately to stop the squeak from leaving my mouth. Others had called us a married couple before, mostly to tease us, but we had never said it. “... That’s right, husband. Anything I want.”

He smirked slightly. “Husband … I like the way that word sounds when you say it ... If you’re not careful, I might just make you my wife for real …”

“... And what exactly would ‘being careful’ look like?”

“Oh, you know. Not letting me touch you anymore, keeping me out of your office, making fun of my ducks. … Taking your hands off my wings would definitely count as being careful.”

I chuckled softly, steeling my nerves and leaning forward to kiss his cheek. I whispered against his ear; “sounds like a horrible way to live. I think I’ll take my chances.”

His eyes flew open, looking up at me. A bright red blush spread across his face, and a hesitant smile graced his lips. “... I agree. A horrible way to live.”

He carefully slid out from under me, turning around so I was in his lap instead, and gently cupped my cheek, rubbing gently with his thumb. I leaned into his touch, sighing happily, and he slid his hand up to stroke my fluffy wolf ear. An almost electric feeling shot through me, leaving me gasping, and I hesitantly looked up at him. He smirked slightly, pulling me closer and kissing me softly before he whispered in my ear; “Now don’t give me that look, love~ You’ve been doing it to me this whole time~”

[fuckyeahgoodomensfanfic]

Good Omens Fic Rec: It Was Always You

A chance encounter during one of the worst times of Ezra Fell’s life reunites him with his once best friend and the one who got away. Though, that would imply he ever had him in the first place. Anthony Crowley and his son, Warlock, relocate to the quieter city of Tadfield from that of London. In the process, manages to find again that one person who always made him feel less alone, the one person he was pretty sure he was never going to speak to again. But the road to true love never did run smooth (something that’s been true from their very beginning). Despite the easy way they fall back into each other, their lives don't seem to follow suit, and if it's not one challenge its another. But despite everything they find themselves facing down, the ten years without each other taught them one thing: they’re better together than they are apart.

Length: 236,585 words

AO3 Rating: Teen and Up

Best for: Safe in Public, Taking Breaks, Human AU, Slow Burn, Romance, Fluff, Pick-me-up

Triggers: None

Read it here, fic by mltrefry

*Minor Spoilers* Strap in, because this is going to be a long rec post. This story hit pretty much all my personal buttons on the parent AU side, so I knew it would end up being a favorite of mine. But then, to combine it with such a rich and wonderful story of how Crowley and Ezra grew up together as best friends? It felt tailor-made for me.

Let's start with the present. Crowley is the father of five-year-old Warlock, owns a very successful flower shop, and has moved to Tadfield to be closer to that branch of the business. Ezra has just lost his sister Eliza and is now the guardian to his nephew Adam. Both men are content with their lives, but the memory of their fallout plagues them both. In the past, we follow their entire history—from their first meeting, to new boyfriends, supporting each other through hard times, and the unbearable pain of their unspoken mutual pining.

I loved everything about this story. As parents, they're both amazing. They love being dads, they never see their sons as a burden, and I'm so thankful that this story doesn't cause any unnecessary angst for them in this aspect. Their family is built on love, safety, and trust. I adored the boys, their new routines, and their entire extended family of side characters.

I was fascinated by their past relationships. Every person each of them dated was such a complex and interesting side character. I appreciated how even when a partner is flawed, they're not portrayed as evil—especially Gabriel. Yes, he's an asshole, and he can't take no for an answer, but he's not evil. He does nothing to purposely sabotage Ezra's happiness, which was something I was honestly expecting a bit. The character of Oscar here was a particular standout for me. I also loved how the red string of fate kept connecting them in ways I don't think they'll ever realize. Which is lovely, but also a little silly in that it almost feels like there's only like 8 queer men in all of Britain. But each relationship taught them more about life and themselves, and yes, maybe it would have been easier for them if they confessed their love earlier in their lives. However, that wasn't meant to be; they came together at exactly the right point in their lives. They were meant to have this wonderful family together.

And watching them grow up together? I was glued to every moment. Their family lives were unique and complex. Completely original to this story, which sometimes can feel too removed from canon. But it didn't feel that way to me ever. Or if it ever did, it wasn't a negative. I don't believe this is the kind of story you could scrub out the Good Omens and repackage it as any other couple. Even though technically it should be easy to do with this set up. There isn't that much Good Omens canon in it, but still, this just feels like Crowley and Aziraphale despite how much of an AU it is.

Ok, I gotta stop before this becomes even longer, there are SO MANY plot points I could talk about. But seriously, if you love parent stories or stories of them being friends as kids, this is a must-read. It's satisfyingly long, but also so effortless that you will spend hours in this world, and it'll feel like seconds. The writing is excellent, so detailed that you'll feel like you're actually there, but never gets bogged down in itself. This is now a forever favorite of mine!

Read it here, fic by mltrefry

[aziraphales-library]

Hi do you have any love triangles with Aziraphale in the middle?

Here are some fics that involve a bit of a love triange scenario...

You and only you. And oh yeah him, too. by AnnaTheHank (E)

Aziraphale figured that things between him and Gabriel were done after the trials. But clearly Gabriel thought otherwise. Aziraphale has to come to terms with the fact that he has feelings for both Crowley and Gabriel, and that there may be a way to get all that he wants.

Scam Boyfriend by ElderlySardine (E)

Crowley has loved Aziraphale for as long as he can remember - since they were small boys in short trousers, walking to primary school together in sleepy Tadfield. And Aziraphale loves him, too - they are still the best of friends, even 44 years later. And if Crowley secretly wishes that they could be more than friends... well, that's his problem, and he's dealing with it. He loves things just the way they are. But then the unthinkable happens, and a new love interest enters Aziraphale's life. And as if that wasn't bad enough, Crowley soon begins to fear that Gabriel may not be all he seems...

On The Side by FeralTuxedo (E)

Aziraphale is far too pure of heart to be anybody’s bit on the side. Or so Crowley thinks. But when his friend starts seeing walking red flag Jim, with his dodgy smiles and mysterious past, Crowley does everything he can to protect Aziraphale from disaster. His own heart might just end up being collateral damage.

Love, Syncopation, and Other Key Elements of Jazz by feathereddino (T)

The jazz duo of A.J. and Fell are an unstoppable force well into their mid-twenties, but when Crowley's illness causes the pair to step back from the spotlight, an enterprising music manager scoops up Aziraphale's career. Dazzled, Aziraphale will abandon all of his former life to be Gabriel's perfect star but lose himself and his happiness along the way. It would take a very steady and forgiving heart for someone to love him through it all... (An ode to that ridiculous hat that Michael Sheen wears... seriously, that's where this came from.)

come on darling, let's be lovers by shoebox_addict (E)

“I love the waistcoat.” The man beamed at him. “Thank you. I know it’s a rather old-fashioned style, but it makes me feel put together for the day.” “Makes you look put together, too,” said Crowley, and nearly bit his own tongue. “I mean, that is...you always look very nice.” Now it was definitely not his imagination; the man’s eyes were practically twinkling.

It Was Always You by mltrefry (T)

A chance encounter during one of the worst times of Ezra Fell’s life reunites him with his once best friend and the one who got away. Though, that would imply he ever had him in the first place. Anthony Crowley and his son, Warlock, relocate to the quieter city of Tadfield from that of London. In the process, manages to find again that one person who always made him feel less alone, the one person he was pretty sure he was never going to speak to again. But the road to true love never did run smooth (something that’s been true from their very beginning). Despite the easy way they fall back into each other, their lives don't seem to follow suit, and if it's not one challenge its another. But despite everything they find themselves facing down, the ten years without each other taught them one thing: they’re better together than they are apart.

- Mod D

[seaseren]

Chiaki was so fucking sick of Starlight.

It’s not like they wanted to be. It’s a wonderful time of year, a time about giving and sharing and community- they’d heard enough speeches about the true meaning of Starlight to know that only a Grinch would oppose the holiday.

They had certainly heard enough speeches about the true meaning of Starlight. Early on, after the Calamity, they honestly leapt at the chance to be one of the Saint’s Helpers. It felt important- or at least everyone else acted like it was, and Chiaki just wanted to do something to give back. Even back when they were extremely sick, they did what they could- help make soup for the community, repair old and scavenged toys because there weren’t enough materials to make new ones, even making decorations that covered up lingering damage from that fateful day. The mood, still dark from the advent of another Umbral Era, was so much brighter for the holiday. It wasn’t just Starlight Cheer, it was a tangible reminder that they had survived, had persisted, that their traditions would not end with them. It was hope in as raw and undiluted a form as Chiaki had ever seen, and they had been honored to help make that happen. 

And every year since then it mattered less and less, and yet everybody else got more and more excited. As Eorzea came out of the Umbral Era, as the Empire lost more and more of their footholds in Aldenard, and things just got better, well, helping out on Starlight felt less like rekindling a precious flame and more like being the one stuck sitting around the campfire and poking it every half hour. Which was fine, Chiaki knew that doing good didn’t always feel good, but somehow inversely proportional to the actual substance of the holiday as how many godsdamned speeches people made about it. That first year nobody had really felt the need to pontificate on holiday magic, or togetherness, or goodwill towards man. It had just sort of been…implied. But as the years went on plays (about the true meaning of Starlight) started running through all of the Sixth Umbral Moon, and songs (about the true meaning of Starlight) filled the air in every Aetheryte Plaza, and speeches (about the true meaning of Starlight) seemed ready at everybody’s lips, no matter what the occasion was or if the holiday was actually relevant or how many times everybody else in the room had heard-

Chiaki took a deep breath and forced themselves to stop pacing about the room. This year, they had decided no more- no more helping with the holiday, no more carols, no more parties, nothing. They had procured presents for everyone they felt socially obligated to, left them in a heap on Tataru’s desk with a note detailed which was for who, and gone to the one place Starlight couldn’t find them- Norvrandt. Lyna had been a bit surprised when they showed up asking for work, but thankfully for Chiaki Norvrandt still had enough actual problems, despite how most of the Crystalline Mean managed to be just as concerned with money and status as any Ul’Da-

More deep breaths. There was plenty of work to be done in Norvrandt, and Chiaki was happy to do it. They had just finished some guard duty for the teams of people working to survey and assess the repairability of towns and farms once lost to the Sin Eaters, and now that they were back they were hoping to catch up with Ryne and lend their botanical know-how to her efforts in-

There was a knock at the door to Chiaki’s suite- the familiar call that Thancred drilled into all the Scions. It seemed Ryne had come to them. Chiaki rushed to pull a robe over their house dress, a small smile on their face, and opened the door-

That small smile suddenly had to fight to stay on.

From the other side Ryne smiled up at them- all decked out in reds and white, wearing a sweater despite the fact that Norvrandtic winters were mild. She had on a little cap, pom-pom and everything, that someone had surely handmade- of the three major culprits Chiaki didn’t actually know which was most likely to knit. 

“Chiaki!” she said, and they both hugged. “Lyna told us you were in town! She and I were wondering if you would help us with a project!” Chiaki knew what was coming next. They also knew that they didn’t have to do this, that agreeing to this would be reaching new levels of self-parody, and that it wouldn’t even be that hard to explain that they needed to head back to the Source. And yet even as their mind was reaching for last ditch escape plans- would it be feasible to spend a month in Elpis?- their mouth said, with an ease that came from far, far too much practice- “Of course! What can I do to help?”

[beebobeebo]

Title: Mama's Boy

Fandom: Justified

Characters: Tim Gutterson, Greg Gutterson (erstwhile brother), Timothy Gutterson (father, POS), and Lara Gutterson (Mama, not great)

Warnings: Character Study, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Smoking, Drinking, Child Abuse, Abuse... Listen Tim's dad is just awful

Notes: I will someday rewrite this.

Summary:

Drawing a bead on the boy he was.

If no one knows they can't argue.

Tim's smoking. He hasn't smoked since he's been stateside, but Mama dying had knocked him off his game. Dragging all that up made him long for hours lying in cold dirt waiting for a flicker of movement so he could solve a problem.

He had done well at the funeral. He looked appropriately sad and shook hands with people who never lifted one of theirs to help her or him, then he repacked up his shit and went straight to Kentucky.

After unpacking he realized he needed black socks for work. Once in the store, the liquor was just there and the cigarettes had been at the checkout. It was all too easy.

Thanks, consumerism. Good thing Tim put holes in all those bastards to protect his right to be drunk, coughing, and in matching socks all in one go.

“Greg, it's all yours. I don't want any of their shit.”

His brother pressing him to take mementos of his own personal hell was not helping his mental state. He flicks the ash into the toilet bowl at his feet and sticks his hand back out the bathroom window of his new, minuscule apartment. Perching atop his commode wasn't ideal, but he didn't need his clothes to smell like smoke tomorrow. “Hey, hey, you can forgive him for beatin' the fuck out of you, but I'm still angry about what he did to her. Your mother wasn't around so you didn't see the welts and bruises on her whenever you did anything he decided was wrong.”

“Tim, these aren't my things.” Greg's voice is strained and tired as it leaks out of the phone’s tinny speaker.

“Mine either, burn the shit, sell the land, and send me my cut. I need to buy a suit.” Tim gives up on the cigarette, dropping it in the bowl as he hops down to go grab the bottle he tucked in the freezer.

“Some of these things are yours. I can't believe you don't want anything of hers. At least her bible-”

Tim drops the phone beside the fridge as he yanks open the freezer. “Greg, you don't know me or my life, but I need you to understand I don't have time for this. She chose him, so she died a long time ago for me.” He pulls the bottle out of the freezer where it has crushed his bag of pizza rolls. Dinner was going to be lumpy.

“Timothy-”

“Greg, I have killed people for less than callin’ me that bastard's name,” he says evenly. They both know it's true, but Greg likes to play the game where Tim is a petulant teenager and not nearing thirty.

“Okay. Okay. You hate Dad. You hate Lara for some bullshit reason you won't tell anyone. You're distinctly not family.” Greg's exhale of frustration makes the shitty pay-as-you-go phone vibrate on the kitchen counter. “I will sell everything and send you a check.”

��A cashier's check. I don't want his name on it.” Tim pulls one of his three glasses from the cabinet and pours a questionable amount of vodka in it. He knows Greg is going to make some bid to remind him he is Timothy Gutterson’s child.

“It's our name, too,” his brother insists. “You can't just pretend nothing ever happened. You weren't born at Fort Benning.”

“You're right. It's obvious,” he says, forcing his voice to be low and sincere. “I don't have the accent. Dead giveaway.”

“Tim.”

“Bye, Greg.” He hangs up the phone before adding a legitimately sincere, “Go fuck yourself.”

He has now spoken to his older brother four times. That's three times too many. Two of those were within the last week. Three of those were as an adult. Three of those were about Tim's parents being dead.

“Shit,” Tim says as he gulps the cold liquid.

The outlier of the talks was as an eight-year-old. Greg wanted him to admit that their father abused Tim. The problem was he'd never raised a hand to him, which is what that meant to a child. That wasn't how you got to Tim anyway. His father understood that in a way that Greg never could. Tim would have welcomed every hit, slap, and punch to keep his father's hands off his mother.

Tim loved his mother violently. She had been the only person to truly love him, to know the things his father called him, and to cover his once small body with hers.

He takes another deep drink. Mama had been the one to find him clinging to Will Holt like a wet t-shirt. If he had grown up in a more tolerant household, he might have been grounded for being fifteen and being a moron who didn't realize that his doorless room was not the place to experiment in broad daylight, even if Mama was at the store. As it went, Mama just stared at them while Tim dragged a shirt back on and apologized over and over. She didn't say anything and just walked away. He hoped foolishly that had been the end of it. Embarrassment.

He rolls the glass between his hands letting the sharp cold cut through the memories. After that, it's a blur of her whispering to him that what he was doing was a sin while his father made snide remarks about being a real man even as he struck his wife. The day his father asks Tim what he did wrong to end up with a queer, a mama's boy, for a son, Tim breaks. He throws a punch that is more force than skill and his father staggers backward. He laughs at Tim's best effort. He swears anything Tim does to him, Mama will feel tenfold. Then he does the cruelest thing and asks Mama if she can still love Tim after knowing what he's done under their roof. She doesn't say anything. She can't manage to nod her head for her son. His heart cracked. He lived his life doing everything he could to save her from his father's hands, and she couldn't say “Yes.”

“Fuck you,” Tim says to the empty apartment.

That was the day he decided he needed to get as far from that Midwestern hellhole as possible. His plan had always been to run somewhere. He would run, and when he got settled, he'd get Mama on a bus. They'd make a quiet life. No one would punish them for someone else's actions. The sins of the son not visited upon the head of the mother.

But that day? That day, he decides he's going to kill his father because he can't leave her with him, but he can't imagine her willingly living with a son she doesn't love.

Like any early millennial, he turned to Netscape Navigator to find a way the fuck out of there. The Army. It doesn't take him long to learn that the Army came with a gun and a different court system that would be keen to put him down once his father hit the dirt. You just took a test. One of those standardized bastards that public education had started foisting on them with regularity. He just had to score high enough for placement, but not high enough to draw attention. Middle of the road that shit.

After three long years of being a ghost in a home that he only shit, showered, and slept in, he did it. He was good at it. Spending your whole life listening to every order down to the inflection of a syllable prepares you beautifully for being a cog in the military machine. It means you're attentive. Not able to sleep because you might get yanked out of bed at any hour? No, you're alert. Never complain because you know it won't do any good. Goddamn it if you aren't resilient. Don't talk back because you fear the consequences down to your marrow. No, you're a polite motherfucker, Gutterson.

Tim downs the rest of the glass and fights the urge to throw it at the wall. He should have used the plastic glass from the chicken place. He could chuck that bastard all day.

He had progressed, had excelled. There was talk of the RASP after he had a couple years under his belt. He could already hit every target thanks to Galaga earned hand-eye coordination and the hyper-focus of rage. The rest was just pushing himself to the physical brink. That was a goddamn Thursday.

Then his fucking brother calls him. He tells the clerk he doesn't have a brother at first, confusing them both so much that he just agrees to take the call out of politeness. He doesn't get out more than the sound of clearing his throat before Greg starts in.“Come home. Dad's dead and Lara’s a mess. She says she needs you.”

Tim holds the phone against his ear for a long minute. “The bastard's dead? She kills ‘im?”

“No! What‽ He had a heart attack. It was probably the smoking. Jesus, Timothy, come home.”

Tim doesn't even consider going home. He gently puts down the receiver without another word and decides to start smoking.

It's a bad habit, one he only does when he drinks, but he has to burn the bastards down for taking his kill shot. It doesn't hurt that it's an excuse both to remain silent and to talk as necessary. Useful. Tim respects useful things.

That blip between basic and the world going to hell for everyone else, too, is just full of running, digging in, and raising a gun. Then suddenly he's twenty and heading to a country he'd only idly noticed on a globe.

He rinses the glass in the sink and sits it on the counter. He figures it's sterile and he doesn't know where the dish soap went. Who else is going to use it anyway?

He grabs his phone and shoves it into his pocket. Greg would probably call back. Tim would probably ignore him. He could only handle a call every nine years or so.

He had to get to bed.

Tomorrow he gets to step into a new world where not a soul knows him. He's not some scared mama's boy with a hairpin trigger and enough skill to back it up. He can be Tim Gutterson, sniper for the Rangers, new guy, nice enough when he's not talking out his ass. Keeps to himself.

It'll be fine if he just keeps to himself.

[cloudbersoo]

i can see you｜kim jiwoong

currently playing: i can see you by taylor swift

synopsis: you and jiwoong are enemies, at least that’s what everyone thinks.

tags: kim jiwoong x f!reader, suggestive, slight angst, forbidden love, implied enemies to lovers, your fathers hate each other, implied smut, no dialogue 

word count: 1.2k

a/n: my first song fic!! this has been sitting in my drafts for weeks and i finally finished it. my goal was 1k words so 1.2k wasn’t too bad. also challenged myself to not write any dialogue which was kinda fun!

it was another tiring day of socializing with people you couldn’t care less about. you were at the lee’s mansion for their annual gala, standing still next to your father as he pretended to be a good parent. after mr. kim had accused him of being a deadbeat father, he had made it his mission to bring his ‘beloved’ daughter everywhere with him. it was all about appearance and reputation with the rich and powerful. 

you stood next to your parents in your black gown, giving people forced smiles and wishing to be anywhere else. feeling the need to get some fresh air, you whispered to your mother before leaving her side. having spent many events at the lee’s, you knew your way around the place, quickly making your way to the front door. however, you were stopped by an older lady who wished to talk to you. 

as you had no way out of the conversation, you stayed to talk to mrs. jung. she asked the usual “is there any man you’re seeing?” and “when are you finally settling down?” questions women your age always get. you politely declined the lady’s offer to introduce his grandson to you, lying that you weren’t looking for love at the moment. during the conversation, however, you got completely distracted by a man who had just made his entrance, the one and only – kim jiwoong. 

but what would you do if i went to touch you now? what would you do if they never found us out? what would you do if we never made a sound?

kim jiwoong was the oldest son of mr. kim, your father’s biggest competition and by proxy, your enemy. he was wearing his signature black suit and necktie. his hair styled back, looking good as ever. you weren’t the only one in the hall to take note of his arrival, as women and men alike swooned over his appearance. nonetheless, the man’s eyes only met yours. 

your relationship with jiwoong was complicated. you were raised to hate him, to see him as your biggest competitor, but as time went on thinking badly of him became difficult. jiwoong was a great man. he was smart, polite and charming. he treated you as an equal, something many never even thought of. at some point you started to fall for him. fortunately, your feelings were reciprocated, but that was a secret only for the two of you. 

it’s ironic how every time you got asked about love, weddings and settling down, somehow jiwoong always appeared. you were quite sure he was the love of your life, the person you wanted to experience all of life with. he looked at you, scanning you up and down, with what people call his ‘bedroom eyes’. you wished you could go up to him, be held by him, be called his woman in front of everyone in the room, but that was something you could only dream of.

‘cause i can see you waiting down the hall from me and i could see you up against the wall with me and what would you do, baby, if you only knew?

jiwoong’s presence made you forget why you were there in the first place, mrs. jung long forgotten. jiwoong’s gaze was making you shy, which was something only he was capable of doing. he loved it, always making it his mission to get your cheeks hue pink at events. he achieved this by subtle touches or lingering stares, sometimes even by making you jealous when talking closely with other women, making them laugh the way he couldn’t make you in public. 

a smirk rised into his face as he noticed the blush on your face, once again succeeding in his mission. he slowly turned his gaze away from you, as to not seem too obvious for others. you took a deep breath, trying to calm your beating heart and all the thoughts in your head. you were finally able to get out of the mansion as you wished a long time ago. you took one last look at jiwoong, before closing the door behind you.

i could see you in your suit and your necktie passed me a note saying “meet me tonight” then we kiss, and you know i won’t ever tell

getting back to your parents before they would get angry, you made your way into the main hall. however, you were stopped at the entrance by a maid. you were confused at first before she passed you a note. opening the small piece of paper, you were met by a familiar handwriting. ‘meet me tonight - j’, a smile rising to your face as you read the words from your secret lover. 

as you approached your family, your father immediately started introducing you to new people he had met while you were gone. him describing you as his ‘perfect’ daughter almost made you laugh. if he only knew all the things you did with the son of the person he hated the most.

where you stood, you had the perfect view of jiwoong. he was talking with some people as well, trying his best to hide his disinterest. a strand of his hair had fallen out of place, sticking into his forehead. he stood confidently, with pride, as his father complimented him. his eyes finally met yours, like he had sensed your gaze. a small smile came to his lips, his eyebrows rising in question. you gave him a little nod and a smile as confirmation. you were definitely meeting tonight, how could you resist him?

and i could see you being my addiction you can see me as a secret mission hide away and i will start behaving myself

the door in front of you opened, revealing jiwoong behind it. he stepped aside, letting you step right into his hotel room. he closed the door before turning around and opening his arms for you. you wrapped your arms around his torso, melting into his touch. his suit jacket and necktie long forgotten on the floor as he embraced you warmly. 

jiwoong raised his hand, putting his palm against your cheek, caressing it softly. his eyes were conveying all the love he had for you. your eyes travelled across his face, down to his lips. jiwoong was one step ahead of you, as he already leaned in to kiss you. his lips were soft, but he pushed them firmly against yours. he wasted no time as he started guiding you towards his bed. 

he pushed you down to the bed playfully, following you as he climbed on top of you. trapping your hips between his knees as he started unbuttoning his shirt. he looked dreamy from a lower perspective, his abs peeking through under his shirt. you bit your lower lip, your hands travelling up jiwoong’s thighs, feeling extremely needy for your lover’s touch. finally removing his shirt, jiwoong bent down to heatedly kiss you again, his hands moving up your body. maybe your relationship with jiwoong wasn’t ideal. but having him on top of you like this, definitely made it all worth it.

i could see you throw your jacket on the floor i could see you make me want you even more what would you do, baby, if you only knew? that i can see you

- end

[zydrateacademy]

Just for fun, a brief summary of my FO76 Journey

I forget what caused me to return to the game. My brother is typically unsuccessful at convincing me to join on his hyperfixations, though this time I think I was the first to reinstall it. Pamsdottir here (a name to remember and respect my late mother) is probably my third character total. I originally played back in 2020 or so. Didn't like it. Tried it again shortly after the Wastelanders update that added NPCs and various questlines, but couldn't get over the boring, shit mechanics. But here I am.

Now officially at the highest level I'd ever been. Previously some level 14 or 16 or something all those years ago, but there's a drive to keep pushing forward. Not being ammo starved helps, and the insane abundance of stimpaks has left me healthy and resourceful enough to keep going. Also, shotguns in this game are dogshit.

Now officially during the time I had my first hovel. I didn't know each piece had different "versions" so the sharp-eyed FO76 players can peek at my hovel in the background and notice it lacks a doorframe. I just had a wall-less hole for an entrance. But hey, it had a roof and some workbenches.

When I hit around level 34 I joined in on some Expo train that slingshot me well into level 50. I was taking my ramshackle and scavenged power armor in hopes that, if I couldn't do dick for damage, I could at least not be a burden and have some kind of heightened AR to not die immediately. I'm not fond of this screenshot but this was actually shortly before one final expedition that made me hit 51, but I wanted something immediately at 50. It's somewhat fitting. This grungy, seen-some-shit mess of a photo certainly exhibited my experience with the game so far.

Taken the next day alongside my brother. He made me a set of armor and a somewhat useable weapon, though single-fire weapons are not a good time. I don't think I see anyone under level 80 ever use a single-fire weapon unless it's some kind of explosive launcher.

I had been given an outfit to overlay, right after some Nuka Tour wild west event. I liked it, made my backpack a quiver to better suit the style. Didn't wear it for too terribly long, but I still have it as of this writing. It looks neat, don't know the source of it.

I forget when exactly I made the shift from rifles to the 50cal. Roughly in my 70's as I struggled to keep up with any meaningful DPS with the Fixer that was once made for me. As of this writing it's still one of my highest damaging weapons I've ever had in my own hands, though I see plenty of people do incredible work with other weapon types. Still, it's useful and strong, and it apparently had some kind of accuracy nerf in the past because of its strength. Don't care, I enjoy it.

Just a sort of interim, "I'm on my way to 100" kind of screenshot. My attempt to walk around in a sort of tacti-cool outfit with Brotherhood gear. Best I could do, anyway.

All of the other shots were sort of made in the moment, but this one I actually planned around. I've long since shed the trans flag from my early levels (in the strictest sense I'm not quite trans... not yet, anyway). This exhibits my Inferno Mark 2 armor (I would later get mark 3 that will be featured in future screenshots), on the X01 armor which I've always loved the look of. The rugged, intimidating look is a good representation of how far I've come, having made it to 100 and all of the experience and resources that it might imply.

I had long since completed the Enclave questline by this shot but ever since I received the uniform I never took it off. The hat looks a taaaaad too "secret police" for my liking but the main outfit itself has undeniable style.

I have tried to make an effort to keep doing this every 25-50 levels but sometimes an expedition spam runs away with the experience, almost always giving me one or two levels regardless of whatever else I might have planned for the day. That is typically why some of them are uneven.

[cf56]

My thoughts on episode 4

SPOILERS for season 3, episode 4 of the Animaniacs reboot

This review will have less substance than the last one because I just don't have as much to say. You can skip the next paragraph if you just want to hear my thoughts on the episode.

It's only been four days, and I've already gone insane. It's killing me to be separated from the fandom. I see the snippets of discussions and the filtered posts I can't view and I just desperately want to be a part of it all. Participate in the discussion, share in the same emotions. If that wasn't a factor, I'd have absolutely no regrets about watching one episode a day. Especially after typing up my reviews, I find that one day is the perfect amount of time to thoroughly digest each episode and prepare myself to watch the next one. I don't feel myself chomping at the bit to watch two or three episodes a day. I don't even think I have the time to do that and also keep doing these reviews. The only reason I want to go faster is so that I can return to the fandom sooner. There's six more days and six more episodes. The emotions are super mixed, though, because while I desperately want to exit my self-imposed prison, every day that passes is also another day closer to the end of Animaniacs for me. Do I go faster and get back to the fandom, but risk less thoroughly enjoying the last season of Animaniacs? Or do I keep watching slowly but risk missing the most active period this fandom will likely ever have again? THIS is why shows need to be released weekly. It's a dilemma I can't solve, and it leaves me feeling anxious and detached all day, thinking about absolutely nothing else than all of this.

What? The episode? Oh, it was decent.

Here's a closer look at the three abominations:

Could these be the animals the Warners are based on? I think a gold earring suits Yakko well.

"Do they watch us when we go to the bathroom?"

Only once, Wakko.

I loved Yakko's expressions and animation here.

I found it cute to see Dot looking at her spider with such love. An underrated, consistent part of her character through the original and the reboot is her fascination with keeping creepy little horrors as pets.

POOR BABY! Can't you see he needs his chicken tendies?!

I just got this joke. There were actually three spiders, Dot already lost one, and Andrew Garfield was forgotten.

Sad to see how far seniority gets you in this field, because lord knows Dr. Scratchansniff has never helped a single patient.

Like I said about the previews, Yakko is super cute in this segment!

The ambulance driver said they were going to make another stop, and Wakko's daily activity was never followed up with like Yakko's and Dot's. Is this implying Wakko ate so much at the hot dog eating contest that he had to get an ambulance?

It was a pretty funny segment that felt like the classic Scratchansniff-Warner cartoons you'd see in the first half of the original series.

It still confuses me, though, how they said they were listening to fan feedback for season 3, but they still didn't bother to make Scratchy more fatherly like literally every single fan wanted. We went from Scratchansniff willingly taking the Warners in his car on trips to being upset that they happened to join him in an Uber because he chose the wrong option in the app. At least give us a few moments that show he has some care for the Warners- like when Wakko starts to cry, have him feel bad and willingly give in to going back to the restaurant instead of the Uber driver doing it. During the best parts of their relationships in the original series, he was considerate towards the Warners' feelings and asked about their hobbies. Have him show some interest in Dot's pets or Yakko's passion for yodeling. The segment doesn't have to go any differently overall. Just a few caring moments would make all the difference. The decision to revert Scratchansniff to being a typical cartoon antagonist for the Warners was universally panned in the original and it baffles me that they still carry it forward to this day. No one wants to see that.

The Pinky and the Brain segment was good but nothing special. I'm getting a little sick of the same old formula for the reboot. Why not start a couple episodes off with Pinky and the Brain and end with the Warners? Or any other combination of segment order you could do. The formula in the reboot has always been either Warners-PATB-Warners or Warners-(sometimes some other segment)-PATB.

I find it interesting that this is their normal cruising attire:

I thought this part was an interesting symbolism for the two conflicting human ideas on climate change. Do we stick around and try to salvage what's left of our original home, or do we just try to bail Earth and start over in the stars?

My favorite part of this segment was how it all instantly devolved into total nonsensical chaos in about one second.

Poor guy will never get his revenge :(

It was a decently funny segment. Not much more to say about it.

The episode was good. It didn't stand up to the last one, but I didn't have any major complaints that ruined the whole thing for me. There wasn't really a major musical number in the entire episode. I think they've been too light on the music so far this season. The Warners have only had two songs in six segments, and only one of them was super great in my opinion. Take advantage of these characters and legendary voices while you have them.

This episode was definitely worse than episode 3, but it's hard for me to decide between this one and episode 2. Episode 2 had a better PATB segment but a Warner segment that didn't do much for me like this one did. By virtue of me being a Warner fan first and this episode having some very cute moments with them, I think I have to put episode 4 above episode 2. Despite the lack at even an attempt at a song.

My current ranking of season 3 episodes:

Episode 3

Episode 4

Episode 2

Episode 1

I encourage you to participate in the discussion on this post if you have anything to say about episode 4 or those that came before it, but don't say anything about the episodes that come after. Pretend like you haven't even seen them. I have to thank my friends in the replies who humor me every day and discuss each episode without spoilers. You two are the only reason I'm still semi-sane. Without you, I'd feel completely isolated.

I don't know if I'll cave and start doing multiple episodes per day. This takes a lot of willpower, but for now I'm still tentatively planning to tough it out.

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[somehowmags]

also honestly, girl at an all boys school has been such a common trope for YEARS like. i know not everyone is insane like i was and went through a gacha phase but the fandom was literally 1/5 built off a girl mc in an all boys school trope. obviously we were all kids when we made it so gacha mvs weren't the best for the portrayal of nuanced, gendered issues or specifically, proper handling of misogyny for the matter but like. the theme itself definitely not weird as bad as people think. yuu literally got their asscheeks yoinked to an alternate world them being a girl is the least of their concerns. if any thing, it can be more interesting to see how characters differently interact with yuu and come to build positive, intimate and meaningful relationships with her especially as guys who have had limited interactions with girls, so both yuu and the characters learn from each other putting aside the main character development in the storyline. adding onto the feeling of the divide yuu would feel at the beginning as someone who's both from another world and of another gender in nrc. these girl in an all boys school plots often end up as a harem story where the mcs are just a blank slate in the character drama. and i hate it cause most of the times it ends up perpetuating the notion that guys can never be friends with girls due to romantic or sexual interest electing the girls as either someone to possess in a relationship or someone not suited to them at all, just generally being misogynistic pricks, or actually being a decent friend to a girl is humiliating and a sign of inferiority. or girls just aren't as interesting. my best friend is the lesbian to my gay twink and building relationships with people fundamentally different than you can be so, so beautiful and fulfilling. i love seeing girls and guys just being HOMIES!!! seeing fem yuu's learn and stumble and grow with the nrc and just. overall people drawing and writing their yuu's with their favorite character is like fuck, speak your truth man. to be honest i was mainly speaking about the inexperienced first years but just any character. malleus, lilia, vil, etc etc. let's go yuu nation

tdlr its a really intriguing dynamic and allows for a lot of possibilities a fan could think of. masc yuu's are great, gn yuu's are great, fem yuu's are great. some twsties need to LET OTHER twsties just enjoy their whimsical thoughts.

YES YES YES YES EXACTLY AGREEING WITH ALL OF THIS!!!! having a girl in an all boys school or a boy in an all girls school has been a trope for years, and sure sometimes it is used for uh. fanservice. but when it is properly explored it can be a really interesting trope!

i saw someone say once (before yuuka came out) that there shouldn't be an official fem yuu because then the studio would HAVE to canonize a yuu ship which is soooooo. firstly why would having a fem mc mean that you have to ship them with someone, and secondly what about the studio implies that they would ever do that, and thirdly what an ass backwards misogynistic take, and fourthly you have to understand that f/m and f/f ships are not lesser than m/m. please LKAHSDFLKASDHFLKH the lengths people go to to justify not liking fem yuus. i laugh but it sucks going in the twst tags sometimes because people are so mean its depressing.

nyeah i feel like fandom is a bit like. too romance focused. people can do whatever the hell they want forever ofc! i like shipping also! i am known to enjoy an reader insert fic! i buy romance novels and play otomes all the time ajksldfhlakshdfasldhf but it sucks when its all that there is yknow. i love pushing dolls faces together to make them kiss but sometimes i would also like to play something else.

i also wish there was less disdain towards different yuus. like man we're all stuck in disney anime boy hell can't you guys suffer with dignity like the rest of us instead of being mean. we should all hold hands and imagine our favorite characters together.