#nothing fucking makes sense i need my brain removed fr

[29121996]

that sucked

[dykeomania]

PLS write smut for Hazel from bottoms..I need her so bad I fear..maybe like subtop!hazel..is her having a strap too far..I need her..

this is not. a full fledged fic. but this is the first time in a sec that ive let myself be inspired by an ask. this is weirdly switcher and just pure gay-sexier than it is subby!hazel. lmk if you want things to get subbier, bc i can probably do that. but for rn i have.. this image.. and i want you to walk with me on this but also hold my hand because i'm #supershy,

(minors [including 17 year olds 🙏🏽] dni fr, under the cut: not that proofread. strap lol (r!r), foul language, breeding... language... (my bad) (hazel has a strap tho), subtop!hazel except i could've made this shit so much worse so i guess switch!hazel but like, switch!reader, idk everyone's just a whore. there's an "i love you" (or.. multiple, i guess). there's a mirror. there's a vibrator. purely stream of consciousness, i don't even think the position they're fucking in makes physical sense fr. i was bored and i was thinking, so i wrote a lot. this whole thing is not realistic btw. i have very little confidence that hazel's blowing anyone's back out, but. it's my first day out in a min so i'm rusty. all respect to the community. next time when i pull up, i'll offer something a little more tame and saccharine as opposed to [exaggerated p*rnstar moans!!!]. reblogs and whatnot appreciated.)

so, i have this .. picture.

of you putting a bullet vibe in the pocket of hazel's strap before she fucks you from behind for the first time.

she eventually finds the confidence to blow your back out, and tbh, you think it's gonna end with you seeing stars because you can already hear the fucking lottery machines going off in your head. she's fucking you so well, and hazel's problem is that you're letting her know.

at first she thinks she's going crazy. but those fucking mewls into the pillow over how deep she is, how she's making you feel so good, how you've missed her so much, are sending shocks through her clit that the vibe keeps amplifying, everytime her pelvis hits your ass.

if she thrusts hard enough, which god knows she does, it almost makes her buckle over.

you're left clenching the sheets, and gasping against the linen while she fucks you, taking you in a way that's so uncharacteristically perverse that you don't even have the brain capacity to ask yourself why you didn't ask her to take you like this, sooner. her thrusts are quick and shallow, her words breathy and a little sharp. with every jolt of your body forwards as she experimentally blows your back out, it's like you feel yourself becoming more and more removed from this fucking planet. you can't help but cry -- sob, even -- as she makes you into a mess of limbs, leaving you tugging at your tits in one split second, and gripping at the sheets the next.

something happens, though.

where her hips rut into yours in deep, hard thrusts, spaced out by what feels like eternities, you can hear her. she's moaning now, breath quickening and chest rippling everytime her crotch hits yours at a particular angle. she's mewling, and unless you're hallucinating from how fucked up you are, you can hear her --

"fuck... f--uuh--ck, fuck, fuckfuck..."

-- silently beginning to whimper.

the girl goes from bullying your cunt to burying her strap deep enough in it to make the apex of its curve nudge against your g-spot, in a way that leaves your mouth hanging wide open with nothing spilling out of it maybe other than drool, but...

it's the slick warmth of hazel's back pressed nearly flush against yours and the heat of her breath against your shoulder that makes your eyes flutter open, facing your reflection in the floor-length mirror stationed across from hazel's bed.

hazel's in it so deep, you can't even see the strap anymore. and by no exaggeration, it's like an earthquake pulses through her body everytime she nudges her hips into your ass, making your vision blurry. she's rutting into you. greedily grinding her strap into your cunt in the effort of chasing her own high.

it wasn't a secret that hazel was sensitive. more often than not, the poor girl writhed against your mouth whenever she let you put it on her ("let you" is a loose sentence -- she begs for it, sometimes). you don't even know why you're surprised that your girlfriend is getting this close over having a bullet vibe pressed against her clit, hardly protected by fabric. "b--babe--"

what sounds like a plea, amongst the feeling of hazel's thighs trembling against the back of yours, inspires something sinister inside you.

you wind your hips against her, pressing back against the strap and the toy. the sight of your ass rolling against hazel's pelvis, combined with how good it feels is gonna actually, like, make hazel fucking--

"don't cum."

she loses her breath, entirely, and her rhythm, apparently. she slows, as if that was her body's instinct to obey your orders, despite the string of breaths that tumbles out of her mouth. "n-- wha-- fuck, no, nonono--"

you wind your hips deeper into hers, extracting a moan from your own throat -- fuck, maybe your gut, since that's how deep you could feel her. you press your ass into her until you feel the buzz of the vibe against folds, the frequency of it changing and humming as you press it further into her clit. "y--es," you grit. "don't fucking cum yet, hazel."

the dull, rolling vibrations through the fabric of the strap draw hazel's eyes into the back of her head, and then closed. she's grunting now -- or all of the above -- and she tries her best to unchap her lips, fruitlessly dragging over them. the little breaths she takes through them only brings them back to being puffy, pink, and a gateway of noise that gives evidence to struggle.

"gonna let me count you down?" you puff out your sentence in one breath, and hazel can fucking hear the grin in your still-fucked-out tone and it makes her whine louder.

"yeah? gonna fuckin' let me count you down so you can cum in me, haze?"

cum.. in you. three words that you'd never even fucking uttered to her before this, and that she never fucking thought she would ever hear and.. it looks like she can't complain, because her eyes roll into the back of her head and hazel swears that she -- at least, briefly -- meets jesus christ, "oh my god--," hazel slurs, hips rolling impossibly deeper into yours, it's a miracle she hasn't swabbed your cervix yet -- "ohmygod, oh my god--"

"three..."

ohfuck. ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck,ohfuck. it's the soft chorus that she whispers to herself as she starts to fuck herself into you, again, opting for thrusts as a means of trying to regain control with no consideration for your demise. the vision of her blurs in the mirror, and you feel your fists grasping at her sheets again.

"fuck--" you croak. "t--two.."

she pulls you further into her, and at this point, hazel's okay with being written off as a lost cause, 'cause fuck, it's not like she has a choice. the strap brief is soaked and it's entirely your fault, and god, she throws her head back. a mess of words, a mess of sensations, hazel just blurts, "oh my g--od--i love you--"

you burst out laughing at the random proclamation, admist everything.

she forces her head down to watch you, jaw hung open. and at this point, she's just speaking. rambling and slurring and gasping, tears-in-eyes-in-awe-and-all, as she watches you throw your ass back against her.

"iloveyou so much, you're so f--ucking hot, whatthefuck?--"

there's something weirdly sweet about it. something that makes your cunt clench around the strap in a way that hollows you out shortly thereafter, and lets hazel hit that fucking spot just right. before you know it, you're wherever hazel is, cunt fully creaming around the silicon.

"i love you--" you dumbly spit out a giggle, a gasp causing a steam of spit to cascade off your bottom lip and onto hazel's navy sheets. "babe," you warn. "ohfuck, ohmyfuckinggod, you're gonna make me cu---"

"fuckingsayone," hazel, unbelievably pleads while she unbelievably spears her strap into your cunt. "oh my fucking god, say one, please, please, pleaseplease--"

she starts begging. unprompted. "it's s-so good, it's so, so good, feels so fucking good, wanna c--um in you--" and she probably repeats it. probably repeats that she wants to cum in you until she's blue in the face and,

"o-one--"

until you let her.

the noise that's ripped from hazel's throat is .. embarrassing. virginal, almost. fully reverberates off the walls, and she trembles. her clit convulses against the vibe, twitching with every short stream of her release and she folds. poor girl was holding your hips for something -- for reassurance, to get a grip, dear life, perhaps? as her hips languidly fuck and press into the surface of your ass., rocking your near limp-frame after you've pretty much creamed all over her strap.

hazel hangs over you for god knows how long, dark hair shaggy and some strands stuck to her forehead in wavy wisps. cheeks flushed, and lower lip bitten to hell. the bullet vibe fucking dies, thank god almighty, because god knows she was not in any shape to reach down and turn it off.

she stays like that for a while, until she you feel her again. this time, only gentler, and much more like herself. soft hands caressing the skin of your back, her breath warm and shaky as she peppers a splay of kisses across your skin.

as you come from the surface of your own high, you feel yourself hum. still full of her, and dizzy with it. despite it, you manage -- slurring, slightly.

"haze?"

there's a hum, somewhere.

"did that really feel that good?"

hazel distantly nods, brown locks brushing against your back.

"uh.." hazel frowns, letting out a weak laugh. "y-yeah, honestly."

the mental note gets filed away somewhere deep in the haze of your brain and you grin, when you press your ass one against her just for shits and giggles and hear her gasp, from the sensitivity of it alone.

"that's my girl."

[fellasleepinbaltimore]

it's just like I'm struggling bc in a sense it feels like a surrender like ghtjyju I would be fine with being a man if like it was a meaningless category like if it was actually okay to be something other than what is expected as the ideal if it was the actual like... "just be an effeminate man" like if it really meant nothing and if my body didn't automatically push me down someone's mental conveyorbelt of social interaction in a way that forced me to participate in this dance where I'm aspiring to do the best in part that is not suited to me and I never asked for if people could like see me as I am in my brain and not always looking at me and what I do or say through the lense of manhood like saying I don't id as man or woman would be enough, it would be enough to say I'm person before I'm any gender if it changed anything like I know it about myself but how I do convey that to everyone else? how would they know? how does one convey personhood in a non gendered way 😭😭 like

it feels like a surrender to a society what will only judge and ridicule nonconformity but also as making peace with the world as it is and maybe the most responsible choice to make for one's own sanity.

it eats me up inside bc I really like never asked for it. to be this way and I'm not trying to shit on it like there's something wrong with it it's just so much work. it's already so much work to figure everything else out I'm literally unemployed uneducated constantly living off of others I'm struggling to like build a basic life for me add on the fucking sisyphean task of jailbreaking your genetic code like I literally don't know how im going to do this. I don't want to keep living the life I lead before but I don't know that I'm brave enough to go forth with the path before and I'm so serious about it.

if I was rich and independent it'd be different but I'm not I'm poor and surrounded by people who simply don't get it and likely never will even if they love me.

having to be a man is not something I can swallow I need to be allowed to be soft but I don't know how to go from me here what my life with look like it's so much pressure and I don't know if I can do it it's so much fucking work constant shaving and voice training and clothes and money and laser removal and extensions and makeup and indignity and shame and fighting it's a constant fight and it sounds exhausting and I'm already fucking tired bro like this has already been so fucking much I'm so fucking tired already I already have shit I have to fucking carry it's not woe is me I know everyone does but I'm kind everyone else people have limits and I feel like I'm fucking at mine it's constantly grating at me but I can't fucking do shit about it!!!

so much fucking fighting for something I don't want!!!! I don't want to pass!! or be a woman!! but I'll have to be if not maybe I'll end up fucking dead!! bc regardless I have to conform! I have to be beautiful, I don't get to be, I'll have to be.... it's literally trading one thing for the other and it makes mad I can't stay where I am and maybe I'll like where I go better but it still will be insufferable!!

this is why I think regardless of how I was born id still feel nonbinary and like there's just something wrong with me and gender for some reason idk and tbh gender doesn't matter most of the time but when it does it hits and it feels sicklyyyy like free me fr!!!

I feel like I can't decide bc I genuinely don't want to I literally wish with all my heart to shapeshift at will like I wish I could walk the line between the two worlds and be perfectly acceptable as I am

[fandomflux33]

If you’re a Good Omens and/or NG fan who isn’t personally or professionally related to Gaiman, take some time to figure out your relationship to the news that NG raped at least 6 people. Fr. Figure it out. We can’t be in denial. (If you don’t know about the allegations yet, you’re good boo, this is your notice).

For any conclusion you come to about the sexual assault allegations to be morally sound it should contain:

-Believe the women who spoke out against the sexual assaults. False allegations are rare, abuse common, and speaking up takes a lot of courage because it comes with harsh backlash from a wider culture that dehumanizes women and idolizes white men in power.

-NG being a terrible person has nothing to do with him being autistic (though he tried to excuse his behavior with his diagnosis to several women). Associating autism and NG’s crimes makes as much sense as saying someone committed murder because they have freckles.

-NG cloaked a lot of his abuse with feminist and LGBTQ+ allyship. If you felt supported or were supported by a popular artist being publicly an ally, and if you continued that support onto others, that does not make you complicit in the artist’s abuse. However, defending the artist’s abuse does.

-Completing Good Omens S3 is not more important than sexual assault victims receiving justice. This should be a no-brainer.

So there’s several directions the GO fandom can go from here, given these premises:

-Scream. Cry. Sing Irish dirges and burn a boat upon an ancient lake.

-Boycott: Boycott any merch or events which might give royalties back to NG and pirate any NG work you’re emotionally attached to. Only praise Terry Pratchett and other screen writers as the show and books’ creator, and demand NG be removed from any future GO’s writing or events. Continue the fandom with other creators.

-Dissolve: Maybe the series is ruined for you in light of the news of its primary author being a rapist. That’s totally understandable, be free, friend. Process your grief however you see fit and engage with other works of art.

-Disengage: Disengage, donate to a domestic violence shelter, take some time off from the fandom. Support works of other authors. Engage with fanworks when the brain worms hit. Become a more of a casual fan of the series.

-Full death of the author: it’s the fandom’s show now. Steal it. It’s ours. The author is dead to us and we are living.

-Denial: No. Don’t do that. Sometimes people you thought were plain good were secretly horrible people who were capable of a few good things. Deep breaths. It’s fucking hard to accept, but accept we must.

-Other: idk, my imagination is limited and y’all can process the news however you need to so long as it doesn’t hurt others

Tl; dr -Good Omens fandom, publicize the news of the sexual assaults as much as you can because media companies are covering it up. I don’t wanna see any more comments prioritizing S3 or NG over believing victims of sexual assault.

Neil Gaiman is understood to have offered to step back from the third and final season of Amazon Prime Video‘s fantasy drama Good Omens.

Deadline revealed on Monday that pre-production had paused on the BBC Studios-produced show in the wake of allegations made by four women against Gaiman, which he denies. This came after Disney’s planned feature adaptation of Gaiman’s 2008 YA title The Graveyard Book was also put on pause.

Now, we understand that Gaiman has made an offer to Amazon and producers to take a back seat on the latest season so that it can continue amid crisis talks over the Terry Pratchett adaptation’s future.

Amazon is understood to be considering Gaiman’s offer and no final decisions have been made. Good Omens S3 is currently in the early stages of pre-production. Gaiman has previously said the show, which is made in Scotland, will shoot from January 2025. Amazon declined comment.

[gabzlovesu]

cowboy!jean x reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: himbo jean (not stupid just oblivious), rope bunny reader, calls y/n ‘bunny’, other pet names (sorry i like getting called that stuff), size kink, hair pulling, impact play, oral (fem receiving), unprotected sex, exhibitionism but horses are the audience lmao, cervix kissing because i just know it’s long…

A/N: Ya'll i can't even begin to express the cowboy!jean brainrot i've been experiencing this past week, like GOOD LORD YA GIRL WAS DOWN BAD FR!! And it's all because of this tiktok. But there's fluff, my bad sense of humor, and some filthy smut, soooo enjoy! :)

I wanna give a big thank you to @jeanslove, she helped me a lot when my smoll brain couldn't come up with anything! i love having brainrot/thinking sessions with her <3

It had to have been almost noon when your outstretched hand felt nothing but the sheets in the bed next to you as you drifted out of your peaceful sleep. You let out a heavy sigh, already aware of what he was probably doing instead of spending a nice sunday morning relaxing with you.

Jean never knew how to relax. He’s constantly on the go, waking up early and going to sleep late to make sure the ranch ran smoothly. I mean sure, you loved his work ethic but sometimes you worry about him overworking himself. Although, that wasn’t the only thing you were worried about.

You were in a drought. Jean hasn't laid down the pipe in weeks, and you desperately needed it. It’s to the point where Jean doing mundane things has you turned on while your dirty little mind creates filthy fantasies; and if you get the slightest peek at his body it makes you squeal like a schoolgirl that just kissed her crush.

Pushing all of those thoughts aside, you get dressed so that you can help him with the horses. You dawned a loose tank and some old jeans, as well as your trusty rubber boots.

You made a beeline straight for the stables; knowing Jean, he should’ve finished his morning ride and started cleaning the horses.

“Good morning, babe.”

He turns to you, happy to see his wife. “I would say good morning, but it’s noon now, love.” He stops what he’s doing to plant a soft kiss on your forehead and embrace you in his arms. “I missed you on my ride this morning. I’m sure Charlie missed you too.”

Charlie was your favorite horse on the ranch. He was sweet, but he also had a feisty side that you loved, it kind of reminded yourself of you.

“Well I would’ve been there if someone would have woken me up.”

“We get up at the same time to ride every morning, so you should be able to get up on your own, Y/N. Plus, I tried to wake you up but you just grumbled and turned over.”

With no defense in mind, you push him off of you and roll your eyes. Jean isn’t bothered though, he just laughs and makes his way back over to the horse that he was brushing before you arrived.

“You’re gonna help me wash this big boy right?”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll go grab the buckets and stuff.”

When you return Jean drops the brush and moves the horse outside near the wall of the stables where there was a wash station. He picks up a big sack of feed and slings it over his shoulder before placing it in front of the horse; it was so hard to ignore how sexy he looked doing that and you try to busy yourself with filling up the buckets with water.

“It’s fucking hot today,” he grunts out before removing his sweat stained shirt and revealing his toned body. He also takes a moment to remove his hat and rake his hand through his hair, gathering any loose strands towards the back of his mullet.

You were practically drooling at the sight and you honestly didn’t even realize you were staring until Jean said something to you.

“You know the water is supposed to go into the bucket right?”

“Huh?”

He points down at your feet. You weren’t even aiming the hose into the bucket anymore, instead it was aimed at the ground making a muddy puddle next to your feet. “Dammit,” you muttered as you fixed the hose, flustered by the innocent display Jean had made.

You hear a boisterous and heavy laugh erupt from him. You snap your head in his direction, “Shutup —

You couldn’t even finish your thought because the way his muscles were flexing as he moved things about had you in a trance. This man had your head running laps, and your core burning just from his appearance.

“That’s enough water dontcha think?”

The sound of water splattering on the ground pulls your attention back to the bucket which was now over flowing. Another frustrated groan is released from you. You shut off the water and carry the bucket and hose over to him.

“They called about Charlie again… They offered to double the pay for both horses if we sold him along with Bronco.” Jean stops what he’s doing to briefly glance at you, trying to read your emotions in response to his statement.

You can feel your jaw tighten, “Well they should just lose our number. We’re not selling Charlie. We saved him, Jean, and he’s one of our best horses — we can’t sell him.”

“And I agree with you, sweetheart. I know how much you love Charlie and I would never take that from you. I’ve been thinking about declining their offer to buy Bronco anyways; I have a feeling that he won’t get treated right and will probably end up in some horse show or a shitty breeding farm.”

He was right, you witnessed first hand how they interacted with the horse. They didn’t care about him at all, they only cared about the stats and monetary potential that he held. The ranch wasn’t about creating race horses or breeding them, it was a place for rehabilitation and nurturing. Many of the horses here were wild or rescued from their neglectful owners, so you would never in a million years allow them to be placed in a home like that.

“I still can’t believe you named him Bronco.”

“What? There’s nothing wrong with that,” you throw up your arms in defense.

“Y/N, that’s like naming a dog, ‘dog’.”

“Well, I thought he looked like a ’Bronco’, plus he technically was a bronco…” You toot your nose up and narrow your lips, not letting his criticism get to you.

The horse nudges you with his face, upset that you stopped rubbing its face with the sponge. “I know, Jean’s just a big meanie isn’t he,” you coo at the horse, as if it could understand you. Jean laughs in response, he never understood why you use a baby talk for the horses but he finds it adorable.

The rest of the bath goes relatively well, despite the horse shaking water on the both of you numerous times.

“It’s so hot I don’t even care about getting wet. We should take a break after this, Jean.”

“I can’t, there’s so much I have to do like fix the wired fence, clean the stalls…” The rest of his little spill doesn’t even reach your ears, you were too busy focusing on how the sweat glistened on his body, tiny droplets running down his abs towards his v line that peaked out from jeans. It didn’t make it any better when he decided to take the hose and douse himself in water to cool off.

“Hello, Earth to Y/N?” he waves his hand to get your attention.

“Huh?”

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“…No,” you let out a nervous laugh hoping he wouldn’t be mad. I mean could he really blame you for getting distracted?

“What’s been going on with you lately? You seem to have a lot on your mind and it’s like you’re always lost in your thoughts.”

“Well for starters, it’s very hard to focus when you’re around.”

“I tend to have that effect on everyone, love. But I don’t understand how I’m a distraction to you of all people.”

“Have you looked in the mirror lately? And do I really need to mention how you poured water all over yourself like someone out of a cheesy romance movie?”

“I really don’t see what you’re getting at…”

You loved Jean, you truly did, but sometimes he could be really dense and oblivious to things. And to make things worse, you didn’t know how to bring up the problem that’s been buggin you for weeks now. “Jean, do you remember the last time we had sex?”

Even with the intense sun glaring in your eyes you can see his cheeks grow a light shade of red at your sudden risqué question. “Um… Last week, after Connie and Sasha came over for dinner — no that’s not right. Was it before then? Maybe 2 weeks ago?” He scratches the back of his head and focuses his eyes on the ground, ashamed at the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he was intimate with his wife.

“32 days. It’s been 32 days since we last had sex, so I’m sorry that I find myself starting at you all the time and daydreaming about how I want you to just fuck me!” You throw the wet sponge at his head. “Aarrgghh, I’m a horny mess Jean and I hate it!”

At first he just stands there, searching for the right response to your voiced concerns, but then he smiles as he walks over to you. He tilts your chin up so you can look him in his brown eyes, “If that’s what you want baby, I can give it to you. How does tonight sound, hm?”

Well you didn’t expect for him to come around that easily, especially when he’s always so busy. You mutter out a quiet ‘good’ as you fight back the heat that rises to your cheeks.

Considering it would be your first time having sex in a month, you thought your husband was going to seduce you in the bedroom, but you got the complete opposite.

“Jean, this wasn’t what I had in mind.” You wiggle arms in a futile attempt to free yourself from the rope that bound you to the chair placed in the middle of the stables.

He steps back to admire his knot work, wearing nothing but his jeans, boots, and his hat — apparently, it’s all a cowboy ever needs, he claims. He takes his place in front you, a large calloused hand coming up to cup your check and smooth his thumb over your bottom lip. “I know my little bunny likes to be tied up, you didn’t even fight me when I started tying the rope. Besides, I can put on a show without any interruptions now.”

“You’re seriously gonna do this here in front of the horses?”

A deep chuckle rumbles from his chest. “Don’t worry, I’m just gonna show them a few tricks.” He removes the hat from his head and places it on you, “Be a doll and hold this for me wouldya?” You hated how much you loved Jean’s cocky side, it somehow makes him even sexier.

He fishes his phone out from his back pocket to play some music from the speaker he had set up and then places it to the side. Circling you once, a hand trailing around your body as he finds his way back in front of you, he lifts your leg up to his face, placing soft kisses on your exposed skin. “At least I was considerate enough to leave your legs free, or would you prefer I tie those up as well,” he growls lowly before yanking you and the chair closer to him so he can grind his bulge against your damp panties.

“How about you untie me and cut to the fucking chase, Jean,” he glare at him in the eye as your foreheads meet while he continues grind on you at a steady tempo.

“No can do, sweetheart. I wanna take my time with you.”

The feeling of his body moving against yours and his hands wandering freely has you squirming in your seat; you desperately wanted to reach out and touch him, he was so close yet so far away. “Relax, bunny. You’re gonna get what you want, I promise.”

Minutes later, he steps back only to kneel in front of you and start tugging on your drenched panties. “You’re the only person that can bring me to my knees, Y/N. And I owe this to you.” He dives in, wasting not another second; dragging his tongue up your folds to suckle on your sensitive bud. Your slick mixing with his saliva —  a delicious combo that makes the tent in his pants grow even more.

He stops to admire the way your abused bud is reddened and how your hole cleanches around nothing. “Can’t believe I forgot about this pretty pussy of yours. It’s still mine right?” You’re too busy catching your breath to respond so he brings his hand down to slap your pussy, drawing out a hoarse ‘yes’ from you. “That’s right, it’s mine.”

“Jean, please. Need more.” Your desperate little pleas are like music to his ears.

“So needy, always asking for more.” He doesn’t give you what you want, but he makes a compromise by inserting two digits and curving them to hit that spot that make your toes curl in pleasure. “You can barely take my fingers, are you sure you can handle my cock, baby?”

When his lips find their way back to your clit, your legs clamp tightly around his head, as your nerves goes haywire; Jean doesn��t let this stop him from devouring your flower, he simply just pries your legs back open like they never stood a chance against his strength. “Your dangerously close to getting your legs tied, Y/N.”

Jean moves his tongue in tandem with his finger at a speedy pace, which makes you accelerate towards towards you climax. You eventually find your release after a few more minutes of tortuous pleasure and coat his face in your liquid.

“Now, let’s see how well of a cowgirl you are, baby,” he says as he wipes his face with an amused smirk. Jean takes out a small pocket knife from his back pocket and cuts your hands free. He helps you stand and takes your place in the chair before pulling you onto his lap.

With his hands on your ass he lifts you up and let’s you sink onto this cock, slowly taking him and the burning sensation causes tears to form in yor eyes. Jean gives you a moment to adjust while he sucks and nips at your chest as he makes his way up to your neck.

Your hips start to rock, the pain transforming into pleasure, and they way his tip nudges against your cervix pushes you closer and closer towards your second release of the night. Picking up the speed, he dawns a proud smile at how well you’re riding him. “Yeah, there you go! Fuck — that’s my pretty girl.” He gives your ass a good slap in approval, being sure to knead out the stinging pain that follows.

The friction and the feeling of him stretching you out makes you wetter by the second, coating the base of his shaft and his heavy balls in your sweet scream. But you feel your stamina running out and the way your legs are shaking are a dead giveaway.

“Jean please,” you beg for him to fuck you senseless, but he just sits there with a smirk on his face as he enjoys the view.

“Nah, you got it sweetheart.” One of his hands raise to play with your breasts as a reward for your hard work.

“Jean, I can’t. Please,” your voice is weak but carries so much weight; your begging finally gets to him and he gives in with a sigh.

"Are you really gonna make me do all the work, bunny?" He pulls on your hair making you arch your back even further and greet his face with your bouncing tits as he thrusts forcibly up into you; this large frame encloses you and his arms wrap around you to steady himself. Jean watches your face twist in pleasure, loud moans falling from your lips at almost every thrust; you were a babbling mess.

But as much as he was enjoying the view, he couldn’t resist the way your tits moved so he takes a pebbled nipple between his lips after working the plush mound with his mouth. Sucking and pulling at the tender skin as he milks your warm cunt.

“Ah ~ shit, Jean! Feels so good,” you hum, pussy fluttering around his shaft at the new sensation. He slaps you ass once more and grips it tightly as he deepens his strokes. “Too much! Jean ~ mmm.”

Suddenly he comes to a halt and taps your ass as a signal to get up, “Can you stand for me?”

You nod weakly and stumble a little as you stand, but he holds on tightly to your hips; he places your hands on the back of the chair, “I don’t wanna see your hands move from this spot. Got it, bunny?” The warm breath on the shell of your ear sends a chill down your spine and it makes you question just how wet you could get for this man.

He eases back into you for a second time, but you're still so tight and it has Jean barely hanging onto his self-control. What started as a slow steady pace turns into fast and sloppy thrusts that has your nails scratching against the chair as you try to ground yourself. A shaky hand reaches back to touch Jean, “Slow down.”

Jean pins your hand behind your back and makes you stand up straight. “Didn’t I say keep your hands on the chair? I can’t fuck you baby if you don’t listen.” A chain of ‘‘m sorry’s fall from your lips, praying he wouldn’t stop.

He feels his climax coming soon but he wants to help you reach yours just one more time so his other hand dips down to caress your puffy clit. “You gonna take all of my seed baby?”

“Yes. Yes, please. I need it Jean!” He was struggling to hold out, but at the perfect time, the knot that had been building in your core finally snaps causing you to soak Jean’s fingers; he empties into you mere seconds later.

You lean back, putting all your weight on Jean. “Oh my God. That was… wow,” you laugh because you just couldn’t find a word to describe what you just experienced; anything you could think of was practically an understatement.

“Hey, don’t tap out on me yet. You gotta make it back to the house.” You give him a look — both of you knew that wouldn’t be possible. “Fine, I’ll carry you.” You plop down in the chair and smile, happy with his solution but you only meet a faceful of your clothes that he tosses at you. “If you don’t hurry, I’ll leave you here with the horses.”

As you put your clothes on, Charlie makes a loud huff like he disproved of the display you two put on. “Hey, don’t judge me Charlie! Nobody said anything when you tried to mount Celeste the other day.” He neighs in response, shaking his head to deny your claim; you stick out your tongue to mock him as Jean carries you of the stables.

If you made it to the end I have a surprise for you! SOME VISUALS!!! [bold nsfw!]

morning rides ♡ Bronco & Charlie ♡

Jean’s thirst traps ♡ riding Jean ♡

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐉𝐎𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓? 𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄!

taglist: @angwritez @riozakii @misss-chrisss @hungrynessforfics @dejwrites @rinhoes @iloveitblackbhna @protectpancakes @presidentmonica @tokyotwink @nneedynymph @sintiva @indiecursor @po3ticb3auty @nanaminshousewife @rxxicole @gemimaya @thenerdyrebel @pixiikitty @dabilovesme @seyawrld @4ngrysgf @daichisbunnybaby @urwifey2 @ar1nat0rs @picayunne @kurtaclangobrr @kookieflvr @woahajime @ambrodias @syomi @chrolloderulo @vivisspamm @sukosie @erentoes @kutosznn @queenmjp @sweeneyblue1 @tyga-lily @jeanslove @getoswhore @thicksimpx @yeagerfushiguro @r1nf4iry @sakurashell

[steponmepinkjun]

I NEVER FINISHED MY STORY OMG. ok so i left off at being too proud to tell my friend she was right and kpop fucked hard. the difference between u and me is that i’m too good of a liar. too good. i kept up the “i hate kpop it’s cringe” facade for ALMOST TWO WHOLE YEARS, I SHIT YOU NOT. why? bc my dumb ass, extra ass, dramatic ass self thought “ok if i’m gonna have to deal with the embarrassment of admitting i’m wrong, i better do it in such an extra ass way it’ll knock ur socks off so hard that YOULL be the one embarrassed not me.” the original plan was to learn the entire choreography to bts dope, bc it’s the song that she told me to listen to and inevitably the song that got me into them, but later switched to bts fire bc i saw too many of those “choreo matches w any song” videos, and then her birthday party came up. and here’s the real kicker. her birthday is April Motherfuckin Fools. so it would be So Perfect for me to reveal my kpopism as a birthday present And a april fools prank in one. so i was Set on the Reveal being on april 1st, but the day rolls around and god that choreo is so fucking hard and i am Not a dancer. never have been. so i abandon that and go ykno what… i’ll do it Next Year. BC MY BITCHASS WAS LIKE NO THE MOMENT IS TOO PERFECT TO DO IT ON A NORMAL ASS DAY ITS GONNA BE ON APRIL FOOLS ON HER GODDAMN BIRTHDAY OR NOT AT ALL. a year rolls by, i’ve told most of our friends except her and they’re all in on it, i’d made so many subtle kpop references to her without her realising they were fully intentional and had too many scares where she almost figured me out but i lied my way out of it, and i’d given up on showing off with choreography bc i couldn’t make that shit look good. i’m not a dancer. i am, however, a rapper, and a damn good one, so i inhaled the agust d mixtape and decided i’d just rap the eminem of kpop’s anthem at her face. in korean. and change the lyrics at the end (if u haven’t listened to agust d, the bridge repeats “i’m sorry” a lot) to “i’m sorry i kept this from u for so long” and “i’m sorry i actually ult got7 not bts” (this was like the april after skz debuted ok i was holding onto got7 for dear life knowing full well skz we’re going to convert me smh) and the best part? she never saw it coming. her official present was a cd with a bunch of kpop on it but she thought it was just a personalised mixtape for her so i told her to play the first song out loud and she knew the song Instantly. it has a long intro so she was like “i guess u did listen when i recommended u this song!! i knew you’d like it since u like rap so much!!” and then i started rapping and i shit u not. she started SCREAMING. like the initial reaction was her jaw dropping and then instinctively covering her mouth but when i kept going and she realised i wasn’t fucking around she just fucking screamed like a banshee. at the end during the sorry bit i threw off my jacket to reveal a got7 shirt on the inside and she fell off her chair and started rolling around on the floor. needless to say it was every bit as satisfying as i thought it’d be LMAOOOO afterwards her ass was like “I CANT BELIEVE U HID THIS FROM ME FOR OVER A YEAR” and when i tried to explain my ego couldn’t take the “i told u so” she was like “you know i wouldn’t have made fun of you for it right? i would just be glad you’re not hating on my boys anymore” so basically i’m a big dramatic fool and she was always too good for me.

don’t mind the weird spaces here my ipad is being all fucky wucky w me rn. damn sad to hear ur sideblog experience didn’t go so well, i’d have shown u the cool side of the fandom if i knew 😤😤 leading u thru the cursed halls of kpop stan tumblr like a sketchy tour guide that’s actually 3 small raccoons stacked on top of each other like a trench coat, like “over here we have the fanfic writers that honestly need to publish a book, over here we have the gif makers that are responsible for my entire camera roll, if we take a quick swerve past the death threat anons and the twt fanwar screenshots - mind ur feet bub the 14 year olds were tryna make a grab for ur ankles - ah here’s the holy grail of shitposts, you might be here for hours, to the right we have the weird aussie side of the fandom that projects our childhoods onto chanlix but also all the members as we decide what their life in australia would’ve been like, and down there is a secret trapdoor to the blogs w endless random headcanons that will make you laugh, cry or blush depending on if the author woke up and decided to choose violence today. enjoy your Stay!” but then again i’m not so active on tumblr anymore (ngl you’ve become the highlight of my tumblr experience these days, interaction wise,) so maybe all my Local Hotspots are inactive now. i know a bunch of them are, it’s sad. “i don’t fw stan twitter for the same reason i don’t hang out in meth dens” oop. guess i’m a meth addict. no but i get u i rly do, it’s a hellhole out there, but the fact that things get shared and spread a lot easier than on tumblr and how short most things have to be (therefor keeping up w my adhd attention span without having to resort to the mental torture that is tiktok, with the added bonus of not always needing headphones.) that i just. couldn’t leave if i tried. maybe i should try being active on tumblr again but it’s a dying site in comparison.

“their music doesn’t consistently hit for me as much as skz” i’m sorry we can’t be friends anymore. what. what. you don’t dramama ramama ramama hey? you don’t feel a little jealousyyyyyy, naega anin? you don’t shoot out, shoot out, shoot out, or aremdaeun love killa love killa? you can’t be your hero du du du du du du du du du dududu? u disappoint me. literally like everyone i know who likes skz music likes mx music like it’s a rite of Passage. they’re kindred spirits, monsta x music is like skz’s music’s cool but mildly heterosexual older brother. neither of them know what a bad song is it runs in the family. and both their music runs in my VEINS. whenever i describe my music taste they’re always the first two that come to mind, skz being my number 1 bc they are my best boys but mx bc of the Flavour. pls listen to the entire the code album then get back to me 😤🙌 ok but fr ur so right they are 7 of the finest men i ever seen (yes i say 7 bc i’m including wonho cause he deserved better and i’ll die on my ot7 bullshit.) like don’t get me started on them either LOL i LITERALLY downloaded that one insta video of changkyun working out his back n arm muscles w his tattoo showing bc i needed that shit saved for Science. they could do Anything w me like frfr. yes vixx is the bdsm contract group i’m telling ya they wildin. or at least they were. it’s been years since their last comeback idk what they’re doing anymore tbh. and yeah that makes sense, savouring the hyperfixation i feel it, but also i’m so attached to skz that i never let it die. like i hyperfixate on other things and other groups but i will Always go back to skz cause they’re my homeboys. hell, they’re my home. being a predebut stay i’ve spent more time w skz than most of my actual family members at this point. but that’s just me you do u boo xx just know that if ur anything like me ur never letting go once skz it’s been my longest lasting fixation cause they hit like Nothing Else Do. ik i’ve already said that but i cannot stress it enough. they’re really special. i’m gonna stop here before i get all sappy and emotional bc i really love those boys so fucking much and i don’t drop the L bomb often. SIDE NOTE I WOULD LIKE TO SEE UR LIST OF GROUPS RANKED BY THORSt. i need to judge ur Taste. and omg cat&dog is such a guilty pleasure song bc the lyrics make me cringe so much bc while pet play can be fun they be doing it in more of an “i’m an innocent soft dogboy uwu” kinda way that just Does Not Sit Right with me. it comes back to the objectifying of asians that asians themselves don’t help in industries like these and maybe i’m looking too far into it when rly it is just wholesome n cute or maybe they are into some pet play shit idk idc i will bop to the song regardless but i will not acknowledge the lyrics nope.

YOURE RIGHT THO SKZ’S OPENNESS IS IN FACT, A BIG DEAL, i’ll grab them for u if u want but i found these twt threads of skz supporting the lgbt community and i just felt a special kind of happiness man like sure the delusional part of me likes going “haha they’re gay” bc my brain likes to imagine them as my polycule of mlm boyfriends bc sometimes thats what gives me the serotonin to get me thru the day ok don’t judge but also bc it’s nice knowing that yes i’ll never know them personally, but at least i can support them knowing they’d respect my gender identity and my pronouns, they’d respect who i choose to love, and that’s already more than the general public can say so shit, it is special! it’s special that they don’t treat being cishet like the norm - they constantly remove gender from their songs and speech entirely, they don’t assume all stays are female anymore, we don’t talk abt the babygirls incident cause we got babystays in the end outta that ok, and it’s just. so refreshing and important to me bc i can’t get that anywhere else!! like my semi ults are the boyz and while i love them very much and there’s no way all 11 of them are straight i refuse, i do get just a little bit sad whenever they she/her their fandom by default and call them their girlfriends n shit even tho i do still identify as a girl, i’m also genderfluid/nonbinary/transmasc, and i have a very love/hate relationship w my womanhood and rarely use she/her pronouns, cause it’s like, do you not see me? see us? the ones who aren’t cishet women? i mean i know kevin does bc he congratulated a fan who came out as nb but it’s just not the same as the openness we get w skz. like how do i trust cishets i could be supporting them as a queer person when in reality they’d call me a slur. what would i know, behind the screen? so it’s so good that skz go the extra mile to make it a safe space for everyone. this is already long enough i will reply to the second half of that ask in another message… tomorrow cause it’s 1am and i’m tired gn -felix bi anon

I'mma have to start putting these under a readmore so that i don't absolutely make everything who is still following me for some reason go totally fucking insane 😂

NDJDHWJJAHFNAKBSJSBFBHHDBDNAJD YOU HAVE NO IDEA THE FACES I WAS MAKING READING THIS, I WAS FUCKING CACKLING AND GASPING EVERY OTHER SENTENCE SO HARD THAT I SCARED THE CATS NDJWHSHSB the fact that you went "oh you want me to get into kpop? Give me a hot minute, and I'll give you a whole ass private concert for free" biduehsjdbd biiiiiiiiiiitch you're a fucking ICON, I stg I could NEVER 😂 (and not just because I couldn't find a tune if you gave me a printed set of Google maps directions and that I embody the steriotype that white people can't dance, like my sister kept sensing me tiktoks of the whole "dance like a white girl" trend going lmfao look it's you and eventually I was like "sis please this trend has me feeling like being white is a disability and these mothafuckers are being ableist 😭 also I could NEVER be that on beat so yall ain't even doin it right 😭😭😭😭"). Tbh if I told one of my friends (lol what friends, i got jokes) to get into Skz and they showed up at my bday and performed the entirety of I Got It I would simply shower them in money and go "aight everyone else go home, you are no longer needed, you are being laid off, your position has been eliminated, we're downsizing, the company is moving up and you're moving out, you are not qualified for this role any longer, best of luck with future endeavors" 😊

I think part of the reason I can't deal w Twitter is the exact reason I refuse to leave tumblr, in that I've been on tumblr since 2006 and twt since 2008, and tumblr literally has not changed at all, not even a little, whereas going from the early days of twt where there were no corporate sponsorships or ads and you had to manually copy and paste someone's tweet and @ them to retweet it, to how it is now, like 90% ads and showing me shit from the timelines of people I don't even fuckin follow n whatnot, it's just not enjoyable. Idk how anyone finds anything on twt, it confuses and frustrates me because I am old and have not adapted well to technology changing 😂 But arguably, the skz fanbase doesn't want me on skztwt anyways so like it works for both of us lmfaooo. I am old and cringey, and also still think of twt as stream of consciousness whereas tumblr is your teenage bedroom where you can decorate the walls with anything that interests you. I do really love the nonsensical kpoptwt shitposts tho fhshsbdjjss like it is a very specific flavor of mental instability that I enjoy immensely 😂 OH and also I initially misread part of that and thought you were saying you actually irl do meth and I was like 😳 WHAT DO I SAY TO THAT. HOW DO I HANDLE THIS. Like how do I express like "I wasn't being judgy of people who use substances cause I've been there but I was just being insensitive 😳" And then went back and reread it and was like WHEW, IM JUST AN ILLITERATE FOOL 😂😂😂😂 ejeywhdhrhjwbfbdjshdhdhd I spent like an hour bwign like "IS THE REASON WE GET ALONG BECAUSE THEY'RE ON METH???? WHAT DO I DO WITH THIS INFORMATION??????" hrhehshe I am literally a fuckin idiot it's fine

It's not that I don't fw them, it's more like... Okay so like there is no situation in which I am going to skip a skz song if it comes on shuffle. You will not ever catch me NOT in the mood to listen to Sunshine, if God's Menu comes on we are THROWIN the meager amount of booty meat I got hither and thither, I could be in the happiest mood of my life but if Ex comes on I will stop to SOB. And I'm not like that with most music, so mx just falls into the category of "there is a time and place." Idk why but it just doesn't forcibly grab hold of my heart and ass the way skz always does. I really don't WANT my skz fixation to ever end, but I know that eventually it'll stop giving me dopamine bevause my brain is my worst fucking enemy 🙃 like my arcana fixation is to date the longest running hyperfixation I've ever had, going on almost three years, and I used to not be able to spend every single second of every day thinking about Asra, but now... I just feel nothing when I look at arcana stuff. As you can probz tell by the fact that I hardly post arcana anymore 😂 So I know that eventually all my happiness will end, it always does, I can never stay just as obsessed with something as I was for long. I CANT SHARE THE LIST BECAUSE I DONT *HAVE* TASTE YET 😭 I'm basically just compiling a list of any group someone tells me I should look into, ranked by how strong the kitty purred upon googling pics of them 😂 My mom read my ass to FILTH over txt lmfao she was like "they're not that adorable. Maybe your standard for adorableness has gone down with You Know Who still on hiatus 🤔" bfjwhdhd like MOMMAAAAA THE LIBRARY IS CLOSED 😂 she attacks me any time I even hint at stanning other groups, she is a skz purist and stans skz only, unofficial Momma Stay of All Stays keeping me in check lmfao.

I feel like skz really do follow thru on their promise that they're a safe space for stays, it's nice to see that they hold space for anyone and everyone in their fanbase and do it in a really simple and elegant way, I feel. Like they never make it seem like "okay here are the fans and here are the token weirdos that were only recognizing to make a buck off of them" the way a lot of artists make it feel like 😑 like they don't go out of their way to act like it's some revolutionary act to do the bare minimum of not shitting on certain parts of the fandom, if that makes sense. They feel very "yeah, of course we love all our stays, this is a welcoming space for literally anyone, that's how it should be, that should be normal," instead of like "Hi fans we love you 😊 and special shoutout to you ell gee bee tee folk, make sure to buy my rainbow merch after the show!!!" you know? Like, they're the friends who would never make you feel weird or different for some shit, the friends that take the attention off you if something they know ur sensitive about comes up, instead of weirdly snapping at whoever brought the unfomfy thing up which ruins the mood and makes you feel tiwce as bad, yk? They just give off this vibe that they, and the space they create with their music, is just a genuine and chill place to be and hang out and relax and bond. I feel like they'd be the friend group that is so goofy and sweet and silly and accepting and lovely and always makes you feel loved and excited to be alive 🥺 They are all good noodles 🥺🥺🥺

[criminally--reid]

sex and booze

god that's such a shit title I'm sorry

""Ay I’m the one who requested the southern reader thing and um since I’m DUMB I neglected to ask if it could be smut?""

I cant find the first part of the ask bcos i suck? but yeh, here's ur fic bb:')

°•○●○•°

Pairing; s7 spencer x fem!reader 

Warnings; drunk?sex, alcohol consumption, unprotected sex, (the sex scene is literal TRASH lmao dont mind me)

Word count; 1.4k (1,405)

°•○●○•°

"I'm going up." 

"What- no you're not."

"Watch me." 

And watch you he does. 

He watches the way you drunkenly sway your hips all the way to the small stage at the far side of the bar. He watches as he say your nerves slowly settle in; your palms growing sweaty, and your consistent throat clearing. 

He watches as they soon fade away when the beginning to your favorite country sing comes on. Swiping your clammy hands on your jeans, you grab the microphone, letting the song consume you, and your angelic voice fills the room. To keep the nerves away, you make eye contact with Spencer all the way at the back of the bar. 

It's just you two. Everyone else disappears as you sing to him. The room previously filled with unknown faces and blitzing bodies grows quiet.

Spencer raises his glass in your direction; an unreciprocated toast. 

You shut your eyes as the memories flow through you as the song runs on. All the times you spent with your father, grazing the fields behind your house. Picking daisies with the summer wind sweeping your hair; the sun casting a gentle warmth on your skin. The times you spent with your mother, deweeding the flowerbeds that adorned the front of your house. The last time you saw any of your family this song played. You and your parents were all piled in the front of the truck, warm summer sun engulfing you in a hug, this song playing softly on the radio as the truck bumps and bounces down the rocky dirt road. What you'd give to be back home, down south with your family, away from all the negativity of your job. 

Not that you dont love your job. You were beyond grateful for all the opportunities joining the BAU had given you; you even formed a second family with your teammates. The BAU family just wasn't the same at your own. 

All too soon, the song ends, and you're grown up again. Far away from all the blissful moments fr ok m when you were younger, back to being an adult in ty he heart of DC, drunkenly singing a country song at a karaoke bar. Reality comes flooding back as people applaud and your team goes wild. Oddly enough, Spencer's the quietest. You try to initiate eye contact with him again from your spot so far away from the table, but he averts his eyes, avoiding your gaze. You waltz back to your table and take your seat beside Spencer. 

"What's wrong lover boy?" 

"I- uh- nothing," he gulps. 

"What- did I not do good?" An overly expressive pout falls on your lips. 

"No, no no of course not. You were great! I was just thinking." 

"About what?" 

"About you."

"There's gotta be more than just me bouncin' around in your big brain," you counter with a drunken giggle. 

"Well, true, but a lot of the time it's just you." He looks at you fondly through hooded eyes, admiring your features in the cascading yellow bar light. "But to answer your question, I was thinking about how hot you looked." Your face goes flush as he continues on. "How your jeans look on you. The way you swayed your hips as you sang. All I could think about was how much I want to go home and fuck you."

"Spence, I-" 

"But sadly I can't." 

"Why?" 

"You're drunk, y/n."

"Wha- no I'm not!" You laugh and lightly shove his shoulder. 

"No sober version of you would've gotten up there and done that," he counters. 

"Touchè, Doctor Reid." 

"We can still.." 

"That's like taking advantage of you. Not tonight."

"Come onnn," you drag out in protest, and move your lips to his ear. "I want you, Spencer. You know I do." 

"We can't- you know th-" 

"I'm not getting undrunk any time soon, so the only solution to our pre-dick-ament. Ahahahaah get it? Anyways the only solution is to get you on my level, pretty boy." 

"So an even playing field makes this better?" 

"Exactly." 

His eyebrows sprung up the cute way they always do when he's thinking. "This is such a bad idea." 

He stands up from his seat excusing the both of you from the group. You grab his hand and walk steadfast to the bar. The next hour or so is spent buying spencer drinks. Conversations become slower and less coherent, and the two of you are always pushed up against each other. Most onlookers would think it's cute, but in all actuality you're both keeping each other upright. 

"I think it's time to go," Spencer says from his seat on the bar stool beside you. 

"Yeah, uh I'll go get Hotch." 

You stumble up from your seat and set on a quest to find Hotch. Spencer grabs your hand to get your attention. You look to him and he's pointing back to the tables where you all had originally been sitting. 

Makes sense. 

"Hey, Hotch!" You chirp, drumming lightly on his shoulder to get his attention. "Can you, uh, take me and Spence home. I think we've had enough."

"Yeah," he huffs. "I think you have, too. Anyone else ready to go?" 

Garcia, Emily, and JJ all shake their heads 'no', and Hotch says he'll meet them back here. The three of us head out to the SUV, and spend the next twenty minutes getting home in silence. 

"Home sweet home," you say as you begin to bask in the familiar warmth of your home. The smell of your favorite candles burning on the coffee table. Turning to Spencer, you wrap your arms around his neck and place a chaste kiss to his liquor flavored lips. 

"Y/n, we don't have to-" 

"I want to. Besides, were like the same amount of drunk right now. It's fine." You meet his eyes with a smile and a drunken giggle. 

"You're so chaotic." He quickly places his lips back on yours, and your hands fly up to tangle in his hair. Lips meet teeth and tongue as the two of you make your way further into the house; into the living room and o to the couch. 

With spencer beneath you and you on his lap the kiss continues. You begin to move yourself on his thigh causing him to groan. He plants a harsh slap on your ass, and you jump; only for him to grab your hips and pull you back down onto his thigh even harder. 

The two of you remove your clothes rather quickly. Shirts flying, pants being flung, underwear being removed haphazardly. Soon the two of you are start naked, and you're sinking down on Spencer's length. 

"Fuck," he chokes out as you engulf him. "You feel so fucking good." 

"Spence.." You throw your head back in ecstasy, and Spencer leans up, attaching his lips to your neck. He grips your hips as you rock back and forth, faster and faster with each go. 

"Jesus- fuck! I've been needing this all day," Spencer says between gasps and moans. 

"M-me too." 

Your pace over Spencer doesn't slow, and the constant friction between you too is bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm. You reach your hand in front of you and start to rub quick circles on your sensitive nub. 

 "Spencer, I'm gonna cum," you cry out, feeling that knot in your stomach begin to unravel.

"Gonna cum for me? Hmm? Gonna cum all over my cock?" 

"Yes- God!" 

"Go ahead, baby." On cue, you release around him; your juices flowing all over his lap. You collapse down onto him, heaving and out of breath. "Look at me.. Tongue out." You remove your face from the crook of his neck to look at him, mouth hm open wide and tongue stuck out. "Swallow," he commands after spitting onto your tongue. He then grabs your hips forcing you to move on him again; chasing his own release. Not too long afterwards, he loses his composure and crumbles beneath you as he releases inside you. 

You collapse onto his chest once again, breathing sporadic. "That was.." you begin but then trail off. 

"Yeah. It was." Spencer adds, rubbing your back. 

"Can we stay here like this? I'm exhausted." 

"We gotta get cleaned up," Spencer prompts you up off his lap before getting up himself and grasping your hand. "Let's go take a bath. We smell like sex and booze."

[lanajvmeson]

emerges frm a field of corn slinking in w a faux mink shrug dangling around my elbows n a strand of wheat between my teeth..... farmer eleganza.... hlo! my name’s nai. i am bt a humble ghoul arrived to haunt ur home. 23 n she/her pronouns n i live in manchester. fun fact my friend’s neighbour used to b harry styles PE teacher. i played delilah yrs ago as carlson young (n even cara delevingne at one point what the fk) which feels so weird n ancient to me nw bt i missed her a lot so decided to spruce her bk to life.... ANYWAY delilah’s pinterest is here n i’ll jst leap right into things without further ado

(NICOLA PELTZ, CIS-FEMALE) - Have you seen DELILAH ASTOR? LILAH is in HER JUNIOR year. The POLITICAL SCIENCE MAJOR is 21 years old & is a CAPRICORN. People say SHE is BEGUILING, BLUNT, CUNNING and APATHETIC. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that SHE WAS IN A REHABILITATION CENTRE IN SWITZERLAND INSTEAD OF DOING CHARITY WORK LIKE HER SOCIAL MEDIA CLAIMED.  (NAI. 23. GMT. SHE/HER.) 

HISTORY

their family is kind of modelled off the sedgwick family like old money n pretty dysfunctional bt all abt keeping up a seamless facade of perfection... with a pinch of the kennedy’s in there. her dad’s high up in politics n his dad before tht ws in politics n it’s just a long prestigious line of clones in expensive suits as far as delilah’s concerned. her dad i picture as like.... nate archibald’s grandfather in gossip girl.... personality wise.

for as long as she cn remember she’s found this cookie cutter white picket fence life boring. stifling. to delilah it’s like being hemmed in a stuffy room n forbidden frm opening a window. it’s all vry Rich People Problems i wnt lie bt <3 she feels everlastingly bored. All The Time. plus her family hs always been a focal point fr tabloids etc which doesn’t help this feeling of not rly Living but just being the focus of a spectator sport. they’re lowkey a bit of a household name so they get a bunch of scrutiny n......... well. new bullet point alert! cue a powerpoint transition

(self harm & depression tw) frm being young delilah always knew there ws sort of. a white noise inside her where everyone else saw a technicolour movie screen. it rly hit her at like 12 i’d say as she was jst coasting towards adolescence. it ws pretty obvious frm her behaviour i’d say bt her parents only became Aware it ws a problem when she stuck a fork into a socket n short circuited the power in the house. she got shocked unconscious n when she woke up she told the in house dr they’d called (to keep it under wraps frm outsiders) tht she just.... couldn’t feel anything. she’d been reading frankenstein (she’s always liked gothic literature) n thought it’d zap her to life like the monster

her parents got her on medication n figured that wld fix everything. they didn’t like to talk abt things and that was that. it wasn’t to be mentioned again

delilah’s parents r just very.... sterile. family is abt appearances. they’ll be all smiles n flowing conversation when ppl are around bt it feels like being an actress n reading frm a script. being a toy in a dollhouse

she had two siblings: an older sister named clara & a younger brother named elijah. clara ws always like.... the Dream daughter. did everything right. amazing grades. america’s sweetheart. LOVED by the press. did sm charity work. elijah was fine/kind of a slacker compared bt coasted by on athletic prowess (captain of the rowing team). delilah hs very much always been the anomaly in this idyllic line-up. middle child effect! altho having said tht she’s always ran w the popular crowd of her age group bc Rich + Pretty = Status. it’s all quite superficial n delilah’s attitude on the matter can b summed up w this photoset. having said tht there was Some merit in constantly being paraded around as “such a pretty thing” bc a few modelling agencies attempted to scout her bt delilah found that boring. she wants to b called brilliant not beautiful. her mother called this her “not playing to the advantages that god gave her”. with a tight-lipped smile and a “god forbid i use my brain”, delilah only disappointed her further <3

(drugs & ed tw) delilah gt pretty heavy into partying fr the sake of trying to Feel something. intense on the drugs front (coke n prescription pills). rarely eating. she got a silver broach of a swan tht she pins to most of her clothes n u can unscrew the swan’s neck n pull it out to reveal a little powder spoon. still wears this today. clara n delilah were always super close n clara wld cover fr her a bunch. making up lies n jst having her back to their parents if they ever asked where she was / she ws in trouble n needed to keep it under wraps. when delilah hd an article in a tabloid pretty mch like this one clara talked their parents dwn frm sending her to a rehabilitation centre in switzerland. they gt it pretty much scorched frm existence bt delilah kept a clipping bc honestly she thought it was funny hw pale her mother went abt it

(car accident & drunk driving & death tw) at a fancy benefit the astors were all attending among 4857925974 uppity families delilah wound up heading off w some of the rich kids n one thing lead to another n a couple of them gt arrested fr a coke scandal. delilah used her phone call to contact clara n fr once clara hd let loose a little n hd something to drink bt still drove to the station to bail delilah out n try n fix her mess bt.... skipped a red light n crashed. she died upon impact.

(hospitalisation & drugs & addiction tw) this made delilah spiral massively obviously.... she clung on by the skin of her teeth fr a while bt she rly was just getting quite out of control doing an extremely excessive amt of coke to get by at this point so her parents actually did.... end up shipping her off to switzerland for rehabilitation. they didn’t tell anyone this tho n as far as ppl were/are aware she was doing charity work with habitat for humanity in trinidad. her parents literally........... hired ppl to take photos of things there n a social media team posted them to her instagram account jst. the most elaborate lie.... it’s a lot.

delilah jst pretty much went along w whatever they said at the facility bt didn’t absorb any of it too much.... she did get sober there bt it was vry much bc she had no other choice rather than a want to......... she even pretended to “find god” while she ws there n memorised bible lines to recite w a coolly detached smile. in her head she ws probably thinking abt hw her mandated therapist cld gladly eat shit and she’d be happy to watch. it was just like.... everyone there was RLY hideously overpaid bt did they actually Care abt their work or patients? debatable. wasn’t the most healing experience thru delilah’s eyes bt... maybe it’d work better if she’d actually opened her mind to it bt anyway...... <3 cornelius fudge voice: she’s back. the dark lord.....

PERSONALITY:

nw tht her history is out of the way i’ll leap like a flea off a shaggy dog’s back into personality! aesthetically she almost ALWAYS wears white/cream. reminds me of the woman in white frm sharp objects. rarely she’ll dabble in silver or gold or like..... vry pale green bt.... always muted tones. usually white or cream. big white sunhats. white sunglasses. white pussybow blouses w a little white skirt n a pearl barrette in her hair. she even smokes white sobranie cigs tht r imports like it’s a lot she’s truly committed to the aesthetic.... paired w like. classic patent mary janes.... she tends to flutter around the place like a silk moth. likes lace too. hs a very put together image n even demeanour like she’s very lithe n graceful n drifts like a ghost which kind of contrasts w... who she is at her core bt in the astor family it’s all abt appearances <3 the only deviation from this is she sometimes wears dark blue mascara once in a blue moon n if ppl comment on this she’s like. idk what ur talking abt? glides away like a ghost in a haunted mansion n is never seen again.

very perceptive. incredibly observant. yrs of early life media training n being born frm politicians means she’s an excellent liar. she knows ppl n knows what makes them tick bt she’ll only use this when necessary. she isn’t a terrible person bt she knows how to b Very mean n will equip this as a weapon shd a situation call fr it. also more prone to lashing out since her sister......... she hs sometimes played chess games socially fr kicks

dark n biting sense of humour. rather frank abt things. VERY ruthless when scorned bt she isn’t particularly?? emotive abt it??? her bf cheated on her once n when he told her she slapped him rly hard in front of sm ppl he knew n then jst walked away. blocked him on literally everything. removed him frm the face of the earth as far as she ws concerned. had him blacklisted frm every event n told ppl they’d be cut too if they continued to associate w him. goodbye sir <3 u are the weakest link <3 needless to say he regretted it <3

very loyal to u until she isn’t. finds it very easy to cut ties if need be. once her trust is broken it is gooooone baby goone.... the trust is Gone. selective in who she cares abt

vry cavalier abt sex. she doesn’t sleep around hugely i dnt think??? bt when she does it isn’t often tht emotionally invested she’ll jst out of the blue very nonchalantly blow out a wisp of smoke n b like. so u want to fuck me then? cool. proceeds to get up as if she’s walking to leave n then looks bk n is like what do ur legs not work? follow me. n leads them somewhere

nothing rly.... moves her particularly. she isn’t very animated. it’s like she jst finds the entire world thoroughly unimpressive. it’s difficult to stimulate excitement from her. it’s like that hugh laurie quote where he realised he had depression bc “boredom is not an appropriate response to exploding cars”.

has a pet swan bk at home she’s named lilith inspired by satan’s offspring. lilith bites ppl if they get close n is honestly an abomination of a bird. delilah finds her funny n throws her bits of croissants sometimes bt even she isn’t immune to her pecks. in some ways they’re similar...... hv a graceful surface appearance / aesthetic bt a darker attitude beneath the surface

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

exes: the ex bf tht cheated on her n she got blacklisted from 94872347 social events cld be a fun thing to explore..... delilah wld be EXTREMELY cold towards him n honestly want him dead. wouldn’t show any shred of caring abt him at all she’s very gd at stoning her emotions n keeping them inside. hasn’t cried since her sister died as an example of how..... withdrawn she is from confessing her innermost thoughts n desires. maybe an ex bf before tht that she rly didn’t take seriously at all..... typically she just isn’t interested/invested in romance she’s vry apathetic abt it all

party friends: those tht run in similar rich kid circles tht she would have smuggled off with at fancy events so they could let loose.......... ppl tht r completely her opposite who she finds interesting bc they represent everything she always wanted outside the oppression of her strict regiment family....... mutual bad influences tht are heavy into drugs n always enable each other...... u name it!

hook-ups: she doesn’t have a HUGE amt of these bt.... maybe a select handful.... some she wld have hooked up w once n never again n just been like >_> if they implied they shd as if it was preposterous n she was thoroughly over it.... some maybe she’d find interesting enough to extend beyond tht...... none she’d invest in if she cld help it altho? maybe someone as an exception to tht rule cld be fun

friends of her sister: (death tw) clara was universally well liked for being rly sweet n well intentioned n she attended yates only two yrs delilah’s senior so she might have some connections here still somehow??? cld be angsty to work with

i won’t lie i’m rly hungry as i write up these wcs so my brain’s going blank n i’m gna have to sprint to get some toast bt <3 roommates, enemies, competitive friendships, resentments, angst, chaos, drama, strife, u name it n i am dwn!!!! hits post n takes off galloping dwnstairs

[anneapocalypse]

Anne watches MCU: Civil War

Civil War is the logical culmination of the Avengers series thus far and effectively presents the Avengers Initiative as a catastrophic failure.

I like this movie. I like it a lot. I think it does a surprisingly good job with continuity, both logistical and emotional.

I also think that what I took from it is perhaps not what the filmmakers intended, that in fact I probably like it for reasons that were accidental, and that were I deeply invested in these characters and their relationships, I would probably hate it.

I think at this point it works best to look at the Captain America series as a subseries of the Avengers. Both Winter Soldier and Civil War are unavoidably Avengers films as well as Captain America films; they balance an ensemble cast with Steve as the emotional core of the story.

I can see why Thor and Hulk were written out for this film, because the cast is already bursting at the seams and the movie is really long. I do miss Bruce getting to weigh in on the Accords, but Thor didn’t need to be here. Thor is not a citizen of Earth, and this really isn’t his story.

Finally, Bucky Barnes gets some character development. I have wanted to like Bucky up until now but there just hasn’t been much to hold onto; The Winter Soldier is Steve’s story, not Bucky’s, and we get precious little of Steve’s old friend coming through in the present day.

I still hate mind control plots, because you can make a character do absolutely anything and while the character might hold themselves responsible for it, the audience won’t, which makes it great woobie fuel: you get to have the character wrestling with all the guilt and horror of having technically committed terrible acts, but it’s not really their fault, so the audience can feel sorry for them and indulge in all the angst without any of the uncomfortable culpability. Nevertheless, I am happy that Civil War established some parameters around Bucky’s brainwashing and allowed his real self to come through. He’s certainly a more interesting character to me now than he was in Winter Soldier. Had I seen Bucky re-frozen at the end of Winter Soldier, I wouldn’t have felt much about it. Now, I actually kind of care.

But Wanda’s situation, by contrast, is much more grounded and compelling to me than Bucky’s: she actually did do something terrible while trying to do good. Wanda saves Steve, accidentally kills a bunch of civilians in the process… and reacts to that like a normal human being. There is a direct contrast to the way Tony Stark behaves in the first Iron Man movie, and the complete disregard for civilian casualties not just in the character but in the films themselves. This is Marvel’s meta-commentary on its own cinematic history as much as it is establishing continuity for the characters. Wanda reacts with immediate horror and regret, and she doesn’t have to say a word to convey that to us. That is good writing, good acting, and good direction. Now Wanda has to live with what she’s done, and decide who she’s going to be in the world after that, when she can’t change the past or the public’s opinion of her.

Tony and Pepper’s relationship is on the rocks, giving real consequences to the tension we’ve seen in their relationship in the Iron Man trilogy. Whether or not those consequences will stick beyond this movie remains to be seen (assuming I watch further), but it is nonetheless a breath of fresh air to me.

We already know from Iron Man 3 that Tony suffers from PTSD, and in this movie we see him confronted face to face with his responsibility for the events of Ultron. What makes Tony sympathetic in this movie is his very real remorse, and his desire to make amends, expressed in his supporting the Sokovia Accords.

And there are moments when I sympathize with Tony’s perspective, when I don’t find Steve to be in the right. When Steve says that Wanda is “just a kid”—yes, that may technically be true, but you can’t have her fighting in the streets, using her tremendous powers in real battle, and then turn around and say she’s just a kid. You can’t have it both ways. Of course Steve wants to defend Wanda; what happened in Nigeria was an accident. But calling her a kid doesn’t cut it.

Steve is still sympathetic, of course, even when I don’t fully agree with him. This is a Captain America movie and Steve is its emotional core. That he is preoccupied by even the mention of his old friend shows his humanity, as does Peggy Carter’s funeral, which gives an external voice to his convictions—even if it is a bit on the nose.

Who supports the Accords and who refuses makes sense for the most part, though I think this story would be better served by a clearer definition of what constitutes an “enhanced individual.” Steve, Wanda, Bruce, for sure, are enhanced individuals. There’s no question that they possess abilities impossible for most humans. But what about Tony? His powers come from the Iron Man suit—without it, he’s just a guy. Genius billionaire playboy philanthropist—but not superpowered. Then there’s someone like T’Challa, who can be enhanced when he has the powers of the Black Panther, but can also have those powers removed. Clint is just a guy who’s a really good shot—is he an “enhanced individual?” What about Natasha? She’s a highly skilled spy and assassin, sure, but she doesn’t have superpowers. Do the Accords include people with highly specialized training? Do they include anyone who might qualify as a vigilante, powers or no powers?

These questions are never clearly answered in the film. But if we read between the lines, it kind of makes sense that Tony and Rhodey and Natasha would feel less personally threatened by the Accords than Wanda or Steve.

Tony especially feels the least put upon by the Accords, for a few reasons. First, Tony is already a public figure by nature of being a billionaire. He is accustomed to living a very public life, and doesn’t view the Accords as a breach of his privacy. Most importantly, Tony’s wealth has always served as a kind of “do whatever the fuck I want and get away with it badge” (to borrow a line from Transformers). Even with the Accords in place, we still see Tony calling the shots, and when Cap goes rogue, Tony sees it as a “PR nightmare,” an inconvenience, but still a problem he can make go away.

A lot of character beats in this movie really work for me. I love Natasha’s assessment that “We played this wrong,” not necessarily changing her position but admitting to a tactical and interpersonal failure. I love her calling Tony out for putting his ego before everything—and the fact that it actually gets through to him for a bit is gratifying. I even enjoyed T’Challa trying to avenge his father, though I think I appreciated that a lot more for having seen Black Panther first.

There are a couple of character decisions that don’t track for me. I don’t think the film does a good enough job (or like… a job) of establishing why Clint would side against Natasha when she is his closest friend in the Avengers. I also think it’s strange that Natasha thinks Bruce would side against them if he were there. Bruce hates himself. He thinks of himself as a dangerous monster; that’s the whole reason he ran. He would absolutely be on the side of the Accords.

I have no opinions on the way Vision sides because Vision doesn’t feel like a character to me or like he really serves any purpose in these movies beyond being a walking plot device. I know he’s got an Infinity stone powering his brain and that’s going to matter in the next movie, but as a character everything about him smacks of “He’s here because he’s in the comics.”

The scene in which Spider-man is introduced was so out of the blue that I literally checked my phone to make sure I hadn’t accidentally started casting a different movie. I guess he’s mostly here to provide Tony some perspective on being an actually enhanced human: “When you can do the things I do, and you don’t, and the bad things happen, it’s your fault.” Peter Parker is the most innocent vigilante! And now both sides have a teenager. He does have some great dialogue with Tony and I can’t really be unhappy he’s here because he’s just too damn likable.

But nothing tops the Steve/Sharon kiss for being out of the blue. Came from nowhere and went back there fast. I have no idea why that was here, except that Steve is the hero and The Formula demands that he kiss a girl at some point. Peggy’s dead so her niece will do I guess. Anyway, it was bad, but brief enough to ignore.

And nothing drives home that this movie is not in any way a standalone like the appearance of Ant-Man. I actually laughed out loud when he appeared because I was imagining what this random cameo would look like if I hadn’t just watched his origin story and it was hilarious.

The big full-team battle was clearly the scene that was supposed to be the most fun to watch—which in itself is a bit strange. Clint and Natasha, in particular, seem not even to take the fight seriously. And in a story all about the fallout caused by superhero vigilantes, one would think those superheroes fighting each other in a huge group would cause even more damage. But it doesn’t, because they just super conveniently have their big battle on an empty airport tarmac, which was so funny. I assume we’re meant to think the place was evacuated but a part of me just really wants to say there were people in that air traffic control tower they knocked over.

Avengers 2.75: The Avengers vs. Delta Airlines.

The most truly stupid part was the ending. I had to go ask red where the fuck Steve knowing about Tony’s parents was set up, and apparently it was a blink-and-you’ll miss it moment in Winter Soldier. I sure didn’t remember it, so that came way out of left field for me and seemed purely contrived to make sure Tony’s change of heart would be short-lived.

But goofiness aside, there was a lot about this movie that worked for me. The focus on relationships surprised me, frankly. I was expecting a stupid, contrived battle of egos between Tony and Steve, and what i got was actually a fairly nuanced (for Marvel) story that gives real consequences to the actions of the Avengers thus far, brings to a head the tension that has been building between Tony and Steve from the minute go, and very effectively conveys the Avengers Initiative as a failed experiment.

The moral of Civil War, intentional or not, is superheroes can’t work together.

Because the Avengers are not a team. Not really. They're a bunch of lone superheroes trying to work together, succeeding for brief moments, but overall failing to build a team dynamic and Civil War is where it all falls apart.

It really put into perspective a lot of what was bugging me about Age of Ultron, which I couldn’t really put my finger on until I ran across this post and it all fell into place for me. I never bought that they were all friends or had built any deep bonds. Tony going rogue wasn't a betrayal of trust so much as it was just the clearest indicator that there wasn't any to begin with.

This movie raises questions about loyalty... and when it comes to Steve Rogers, the answers are pretty unambiguous. Steve Rogers is a powerfully loyal person who sticks by his people no matter what, and never was it more clear that the Avengers are not his people. Bucky is his people. Sam is his people. Peggy is his people. These are Steve’s friends. Steve Rogers is the first Avenger. He is also the first to jump ship when the Avengers fail to align with his principles. That’s who Steve is, and this movie also serves as a very effective character study. Despite its proximity to Ultron, there’s a reason this is a Captain America movie first.

If we’re supposed to see Civil War as a family torn apart, it fails, because this series never sold us on that family dynamic in the first place. From the start, every Avengers film has been about driving conflict between the characters, especially Steve and Tony. You cannot destroy what was never there, and if Civil War is meant to be that kind of tragedy, it does not succeed.

If I was a real fan of the Marvel cinematic universe, one deeply invested in these characters and in the idea of the Avengers becoming a found family, Civil War would’ve been a massive letdown and I’d probably hate it.

But coming in as a casual tourist in this franchise, a story about the tragic inability of superheroes to work as a team is fascinating to me.

And intentionally or not, that’s what Civil War is.

[xaz-fr]

The Story So Far

Sizes for pics are ALL over the place cause I’m in the public library and away from my normal images. Forgive me on that OTL

ANYWAY. Ready for Azazel to remind you he’s an absolute scum bag and you absolutely should not like him in any way??? Yeah me too

@griminal-rising @deadpool-scar-bro @hikayelastoria @cornsnoot-fr @redlion-fr @mushroomdraggo @murdoch-fr @tales-around-sornieth @frxemriss@rainhearts-hatchery @rexcaliburr-fr @onikuma-fr @serthis-archivist @fitzfr (let me know if you’d like to be added to the lore pinglist)

WARNINGS: 

attempted rape, mention of past rape, child abuse, child death, derogatory language against women, domestic violence, assault, threatening violence against women. There is NO rape actually in this story. Just talk of it happening but no one actually gets hurt like that.

PLEASE let me know if I missed any TWs. I want to be thorough in the warnings so no one reads this not knowing what they’re getting into.

Three Foot Casket pt 1

Azazel was wary. Astra had been in a good mood. That was never good. She should have no reason to be happy either. Usually she was just miserable but recently… happy. And he found her in her nesting room often. That was also unusual. For a blind moment he was worried he'd broken her. That wouldn't do. Or maybe she'd finally come to her senses and decided to stop being a slut and realize he was the better option. She really was very lovely. Beautiful even. She was just disgusting on the inside. But so was he. They really would have worked out rather well if she wasn't busy opening her legs to someone else.

He was making his rounds past the hatching room. He was more attentive of them than usual. He was quite done with her spiriting his children away from under his nose. Those were his children and she had no right to give them to Johanna.

The door of the room was open half way. He carefully opened it a bit and then slammed it open furious. The nest was empty! Again!

“Astra!” he bellowed and stormed up to her room. He seethed and twisted the knob with magic worked into his muscles. The lock broke. “Astra!” he barked and saw her on her bed, half behind the curtain that hung from the ceiling from a single point.

“You don't have to yell, Azazel, I'm right here,” she said and his eyes narrowed. Then he relaxed, confusion radiating through his entire body. In her lap was a hatchling. A skydancer with bright orange down with floral designs. His brow furrowed as his anger slowly leached out of his body. What… was going on?

“Uh…”

“Did you need something?” she asked him sharply.

He shook himself to bring himself back to reality. “Where are the other two, slut?” he asked cruelly.

“Fuck you,” she said even as she pulled back the curtain a bit and saw two skydancers curled up on the bed, sleeping on each other. They were practically the same dragon save that one of them had lighter horns than the other.

Azazel couldn't move. He was stunned stupid. For years he'd been fighting Astra on sending them to Johanna. She always snuck them out in the dead of night or when it was light out, knowing he wouldn't go above ground. Not while that horrible Abbadon was allowed to prowl the surface. He just stared at Astra as she gently stroked the hatchling’s crest. “Did you need something, Azazel?”

He stumbled forward. At last! After so long. She didn't protest when he came close. Then he grew wary again. Why was she being so calm? She'd done something. “What did you do?” he asked her.

“Nothing I wasn't already doing, you horror,” she said and pet the hatchling. He looked down at the hatchling in her lap. It looked… normal. He looked at the twins and his brain was slow to understand what he was seeing. He looked down at her. The color of their pelts was wrong. There was no way these were his children. Astra and his children were orange, yellow, and green. The twins were brown. Darker than Astra’s natural colors and there was no way that could happen unless-

“You-- slut,” Azazel snarled.

“Says a rapist,” she hissed back. “Hey!” she yelled when he grabbed the orange hatchling in her lap by the neck. “Let him go!” and she lurched to her feet even as he lifted them up and examined them. “Azazel!” she hit him but he shoved her aside. Darkness coalesced around his fingers and the hatchling screamed as needles of darkness pierced their skin and splattered blood across the curtain. “No! You monster!” she screamed. The twins had woken up now and were pressing to the edge of the bed.

He turned his sun-like eyes on her. He dropped the lifeless hatchling and it splattered to the floor. She stared at him with wide green eyes. For the first time she looked afraid of him. “When will you get it through your pretty, stupid, head that you are mine?” he snarled and grabbed her by the neck with his bloody hand, shoving her back down to the bed by the throat. She clawed at him. “You were promised to me and you couldn't even keep your legs closed long enough for me to arrive?” he was furious. “You were a girl and already a whore,” he lifted her up a bit and slammed her back down on the mattress.

Her eyes glowed green and under her breath hissed out a curse. Sick green energy started spilling from her eyes, nose, and mouth. Where it touched his skin it sizzled and burned. He just tightened his fingers and let it burn his flesh. The smell of rotting flesh filled the room. “It’s a shame you’re a slut. I would have been proud of you for this otherwise,” he ripped his hand away and held it against his chest. The green energy rolled back up across her face and she swallowed it.

“Maybe if the first time you saw me you hadn't raped me we wouldn't be in this situation,” she hissed. “Get off of me before I rot away the rest of you.”

He chuckled darkly. “No, my dear,” and he showed her his hand. It was healed already. “You cannot rot what is already rotten. But I'm sure those little books of yours didn't tell you that did they?” He pressed her down again. Really he was impressed. It wasn't every day someone took up necromancy. Even rarer to be a Wind dragon. They were usually too sporadic to handle the meticulous nature of such magic. And he'd never come across a female necromancer. At least not one who couldn't have flayed the flesh from his body with a glance. Sweet, budding, Astra he could handle.

“Get off of me,” she snarled.

“Oh, my dear, I certainly will be. And then I'll take care of those unnecessary spawn of yours,” he smirked.

He saw her processing what he'd said. “You stay away from them,” she hissed.

“For now,” he stroked her cheek and she smacked him away. “I prefer you sweet, relax. You know it hurts less.”

“I'm going to kill you,” she hissed.

“You cannot rot what is already rotten, my dear,” he used magic to keep her hands down so she couldn't hit him. He did hate that. Usually she was complacent but today she was fighty. She just gave a cry of frustration that shook the air and rattled his head. He shook his head to clear it.

“Get off me!” she screamed and the sound was a shockwave that made his antlers vibrate.

Two balls of fluff and feathers attacked him, shrieking. As they did they almost seemed to turn into griffins with claws like Idols and sharp beaks. One clamped onto his arm with their beak and the other raked his side with their claws. Their gems glowed brightly. He'd never seen that happen before. “Cute,” he grunted and tore them off him, throwing them across the room where the hatchlings collided with the wall and lay in a heap. “I'll take care of them later,” he said and leered down at Astra.

She screamed again and he had to cover his ears against the sound. “Shut. Up,” he grabbed a pillow and shoved it over her face. He didn't intend to suffocate her. He just wanted to block out the sound. “So annoying,” he grumbled and pushed his hair back from where it had fallen across his brow. He lifted the pillow and the sound was immediate. He put it back over her face. She struggled against it, her body bucking and trying to throw him off of her. “At least scream when someone bad has happened, Astra,” he tutted. She screamed against the pillow. “Such a drama queen.” He touched her throat and traced a symbol into her flesh. The screaming stopped abruptly. “There, better,” he removed the pillow. She opened her mouth to scream but no sound came out. She tries to swear at him but only her mouth moved but no sound was heard. She struggled against the magic bounds around her wrists but they held her there. “Much better,” he smirked. She looked away from him and at the wall where her spawn were still a crumpled pile against the corner. He'd take care of those things momentarily. First he needed to deal with Astra.

It was such a pity she was so beautiful, talented, and powerful and completely hated him. She would have been an ideal mate for him and he was attracted to her. And not just for her looks. The fact that she had decided all on her own to study necromancy and that she was like him attracted him immensely. “Just relax,” he touched her face with awkward gentleness and she spit at him. “Don't make this worse for yourself,” he snarled and grabbed her face harder.

He was changing his position against her when he heard a strange noise. It sounded like a growl. He looked over his shoulder at the door. “Abbadon,” he said slowly seeing the Wildclaw standing there. Abbadon’s growl deepened, his crest flaring aggressively. “You're not supposed to be down here,” he said like he was commenting on an oncoming thunderstorm. Abbadon took a measured step into the room. “Don't do something you'll regret now.”

“Get away from my mistress,” Abbadon growled. Azazel didn't like the sound of that. He looked down at Astra. He'd started to undo her pants and she was just laying there smugly.

“What did you do, hmm?” he asked her. The glyph on her throat brightened as she tried to talk.

“Azazel,” Abbadon snarled. He stepped further into the room.

“You're a naughty girl,” Azazel said and got off of her, pulling his pants closed as he did.

“Leave, now,” Abbadon snapped and a bit of acidic drool dribbled from his mouth. “Before you give me the pleasure of sinking my teeth into your throat. I'm sure Aten will forgive me of leaving him the honor.”

Azazel looked at the Wildclaw. He took the threat seriously. Few things could hurt him but Abbadon was a threat to his continued existence. He snapped his fingers and Astra lurched into a sitting position and then off the bed as he took her binds off her. Abbadon moved between him and Astra who was kneeling next to her worthless spawn, tending to them. “Always a pleasure, Abbadon,” Azazel said nicely.

“Soon, it will be,” Abbadon growled and turned his body to keep looking at Azazel as he walked towards the door.

“Until next time my dear,” Azazel called to Astra.

“Drop dead,” she called back furiously, holding one of her hatchlings against her chest. Its wing was twisted.

“Don't leave them alone,” Azazel said sweetly. Astra and Azazel just growled at him. He left the room and closed the metal door behind him. Stupid bitch.

[artificialqueens]

In My Mind 02 (Katlaska) - Miss Sugar Pink

A/N: Thank you very much for your kind words! They really motivated me to write more! I hope you don’t mind a bit of a slow burn. And shoutout to my sister who made this lovely picture for my fic! Thank you!

“The extreme always seems to make an impression.” - Heathers

This will definitely be an interesting story to tell his mother as soon as she calls him tomorrow morning. Oh hey, ma. I’m still in the middle of unpacking my stuff but so far so good. I have a neighbor who watches The Golden Girls all day in full volume like an asshole and my best friend is apparently friends with drag queens who are batshit crazy. But oh, that’s not the best part. I finally met my soulmate. Yeah, he said the exact trashy words that my soulmark has. And he’s absolutely lovely. He was completely hammered and I had to hold his hair while he threw up in the public toilet. It is by far the most romantic first encounter a guy could ever dream of. And did you know people pay him just to watch him get a blowjob onstage?

Okay, now that isn’t fair. Brian knows he isn’t exactly a flawless person himself but really though, is this the kind of first encounter Lady Fate has in store for them?

Fr: Trixie Message: just got home. sent sharon a message about you taking alaska with you but he hasnt replied yet. hows the drama queen?

Brian redirects his stare away from his phone and to the slumbering figure on his bed. He purses his lips at the unwanted turn of events, but what kind of person would he be to leave Alaska by herself in the club when she was being a hysterical sobbing mess? Right after he had assisted her in the comfort room, they went ahead to look for Sharon Needles but she was nowhere to be seen. Even Bri didn’t run into her which didn’t help Alaska’s current state at all; pun intended.

The two Brian’s had no choice but to take her out of the club before she could make a scene.

Alaska had insisted that she didn’t want to go home— that she just wasn’t ready to face Sharon yet. And since Bri kept quiet, obviously having no intention of offering his home, Brian had offered his apartment instead. Alaska was so downright inebriated that she had slept through the entire ride to his building.

The blond man lets out a tired sigh as he leans his shoulder onto the door frame and keys in his reply on his phone.

“Sleeping. Didn’t even take his makeup off. Had to pull his boots off for him.”

“geez, sorry about this. this wasnt supposed to happen.”

“Don’t worry. Nobody asked for it. Any clues on where Sharon might be?”

“not really. i did send him ur address just in case.”

“Do they always fight like this?”

“not usually in public but itll blow over. couples fight all the time.”

Brian’s thumbs hover over the keypad of his screen, the word “couples” stealing his attention longer than he prefers. How much of a dumbfuck is he? How did he not assume that Alaska is dating Sharon even after their lewd performance and that blubbering fit she pulled? There’s a high chance that his very own soulmate possibly doesn’t believe in soulmates and he can’t tell whether he should be worried or relieved.

Alaska looks quite a handful. Very high maintenance. If she doesn’t believe in soulmates, then maybe Brian could easily dodge a bullet here and move on with his life. Maybe even date someone who never had a soulmark at all.

But then again, he’s only met her. And at the wrong time as well. It’s too early for him to make any judgment. He glances up at Alaska again, their ridiculous first encounter resounding over and over in his head. Did she feel anything when she met him? They say people are supposed to feel something once they finally meet their soulmate but upon retracing the incident that took place in the club earlier, it’s really hard to tell whether or not Alaska felt anything at all. She was so engrossed in her argument with Sharon that she didn’t even notice how she nearly crashed into him.

This could be his only chance of finding someone who’s very much compatible with him. But what is he supposed to do? He can’t just break someone else’s relationship just for the sake of his own happiness.

Brian shakes his head and reaches to close the door and give the blonde queen some privacy. He ambles away towards one of the boxes he still has yet to unload and fishes out a toothbrush, still sealed in its pack. He should might as well make Alaska feel at home when she wakes up tomorrow morning. He has no doubt that she will still be a handful during her impending hangover. After neatly placing the toothbrush on the shelf in his bathroom, Brian walks straight for his couch and flings himself onto it with a defeated sigh.

LA has him fucked.

–

Waking up in full makeup is never fun.

Justin groans and moves to his side, refusing to open his eyes despite being fully conscious now. He could feel the thick foundation still clinging to his skin and refusing to let his face breathe. His mouth feels dry and sticky from probably sleeping with his mouth open. The familiar sensation of a hangover hits him right away and he lets out another groan, feeling as though his entire brain is bloating and aching under his skull.

He stretches his arm to wake Aaron up. He could really use some soup right now and nobody does it better than Aaron.

But when his hand reaches nothing but an empty space, he raises his eyelids that feel far too fucking heavy only to be welcomed by the sight of a very unfamiliar room. Alarmed, Justin sits straight up and a wave of nausea doubles the pain in his head. He bites back a groan and holds his head, his eyes taking a sluggish gander of his surroundings.

The blue curtains have been thankfully slid closed to keep any of the bright sunlight away from streaming into the room. Boxes are scattered everywhere, some have been opened while some are still sealed shut.

What happened last night?

Shit, did he cheat on Aaron?

Justin immediately looks down at himself and is relieved to see that he’s still fully dressed. His outfit leaves little to the imagination though so maybe he did have someone fuck him last night without having to de-drag. Panic rises within him. Frantically, he looks around and finds his bag settled neatly on the bedside table. He wastes no more time in grabbing it and taking his phone out.

No new messages.

Not a single one from Aaron.

That can’t be a good sign.

Whoever he’s slept with must have gone out for now. That’s good. He needs some time to think.

“Ah, shit…!” He hisses from the cracking headache splitting his brain, the lingering taste of vomit and vodka in his mouth making him feel even more nauseous than he was mere seconds ago. He needs the bathroom. Carefully, Justin lifts himself up from the mattress (which lacks any bedcovers much to his discomfort) and heads for one of the boxes that has the word “Clothes #3” labeled on it, grabbing the biggest shirt he could find along with a pair of sweatpants before making his way out of the room. He takes a fleeting inspection of the place and finds the only door that obviously doesn’t lead to the outside. With as much haste as his dispirited body could give him, he hurries to the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

The light that furnishes the room once he turned it on comes off too radiant and blinding for the drag queen and he squeezes his eyes shut. Slowly, he blinks them back open and rubs his face, not really giving a damn anymore if he’s smeared his makeup or not.

The shower lacks a curtain but the place looks clean. Thank god.

Justin strides to the sink and grimaces at the sight of his own reflection in the mirror. Every single cosmetic he had oh-so-carefully painted on his face last night has been smeared and smudged sloppily. His now flimsy blonde wig is hanging for its dear life far back over his head, the bobby pins keeping it attached. His skin looks stiff and greasy and his body feels jaded with burden and exhaustion despite just waking up from his slumber. His bloodshot eyes glaze over monotonously and for a moment, he forgets where he is or what he’s supposed to be doing.

But then he shakes himself back to reality.

“Wake the fuck up.” He pats his cheeks several times. He stares at himself in the mirror once again before reaching up to yank his wig off and toss it carelessly to the empty bathtub. He pulls open the medicine cabinet and conveniently finds an untouched toothbrush still secured in its package and a small container of petroleum jelly.

Not exactly the most advisable thing to use for removing makeup but it will have to do.

–

Brian wakes up by the abrupt sound of the bathroom door being shut closed a bit louder than it should. He blinks the drowsiness away and sits up, trying to remember where he is. His could feel his back aching from the couch’s lumpy material but that’s the least of his worries. Remembering why he’s even sleeping in the living room in the first place, his attention shoots straight to the bathroom where he could assume Alaska has gone to.

Right, the impending hangover.

He drags his hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up more. Regardless of offering his apartment to the tall drag queen, he didn’t really exchange much words with her last night so just picturing the uncomfortable tension that will be hovering above them later brings an alarming feeling of dread within him.

While he’s not someone who constantly dreams of meeting his soulmate, he would still very much prefer the clichéd ‘we bumped into each other in this really exciting cereal convention because we both share an everlasting respect and devotion for Cinnamon Toast Crunch only to realize that it’s a convention for serial killers and now we have to work together to survive and live happily ever after, forever traumatized’.

But Lady Fate has a twisted sense of humor so he will just have to put up with this direction.

The sound of the faucet being used in the bathroom brings him back to the matter at hand and he stands up, stretching his arms and sighing upon feeling and hearing the right cracks of his muscles. He walks to the kitchen sink to wash his face, hoping that would be enough to fully wake himself up. After washing and drying up, he looks around and scratches his head.

What does one usually do to ease their hangover?

Brian never liked alcohol and he’s only had a hangover once. But even then, he just slept through the entire day so he couldn’t even recall how it felt.

At helpless times like this, there’s only one person he could rely on who would never let him down.

‘Hangover remedies yahoo answers’ Brian taps into the Google search bar of his phone. But just as he’s about to check the very first result, he hears the bathroom door swinging open and he instinctively stands straighter in anticipation.

But the person stepping out of the bathroom isn’t Alaska.

And for a second, Brian is taken aback and just stares at the tall dark-haired boy walking out of his bathroom with a sluggish flow. All traces of the dramatic intoxicated blonde queen from last night has been erased and replaced by a pale skinny stranger with endearing droopy lids and his short dark brown hair disheveled in an attractive mess. Brian realizes he isn’t as tall as he thought he was but still undoubtedly maintains a few good inches over him. He’s wearing Brian’s clothes but has his own stuff in his grip.

Brian didn’t think he’d be this cute out of drag.

Fuck.

“O-Oh…” Is all he could say, his mind frantically searching for something better to say but coming out blank.

As though only noticing his presence, the guy looks at him and nearly jumps in surprise. “Oh my god, you scared me…!”

Brian offers an awkward smile, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “Sorry. I just, uh, forgot that there’s an actual man underneath the whole Alaska glamor. Some of the most beautiful women in the world have gigantic penises after all, am I right?” He drives for a joke but the brunet just stares at him, further plunging them deeper into this suffocating whirlwind of tension— or maybe it’s the joke. It looks like his humor just doesn’t tickle the fancy anymore.

“That’s… a good one.” Surprisingly enough, the tone of his guest’s voice isn’t laced with sarcasm. If anything, he looks contemplative of what he said. “I’m Justin, by the way.”

“Brian.” Brian introduces himself a little bit too quickly than he would have preferred but it’s too late now. “Erm… how are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been fucked gently with a chainsaw.” Justin plods down over to the counter to settle his things there as though he’s at his own home.

Brian stands stiffly from the other side of the counter but a small smile of realization stretches his lips. “Heathers reference?”

It looks like it’s taking a lot of effort for Justin to smile back. “You have good taste.”

It makes no sense how a simple statement could make Brian this fucking giddy like he’s back in high school. He’s a grown man for Barbara’s sake. He feels ridiculous. “I was just kinda looking up the remedies for a hangover.” He waves his phone for emphasis. “I don’t really drink so I’m not entirely sure what to do to help you with—”

“Do you have any cans of PBR?” Justin asks as he tinkers with the strands of his wig, seemingly distracted. He doesn’t seem to be listening at all.

Brian blinks. “PBR?”

“Pabst Blue Ribbon. Beer. Or any alcohol really. It helps numb the hangover away.”

Brian couldn’t help but frown at the supposed quick fix Justin has in mind. That doesn’t sound right. Isn’t alcohol the main cause of a hangover? So why drink more?

“I have coffee.” He suggests a bit hopefully. “Water. Pain-killers.”

“So… no beer?”

Brian shakes his head. “Nope.”

Justin grows quiet and Brian bites the inside of his cheek. Maybe he should start keeping beer in his fridge just in case his guests are into that. Coming off as a killjoy or a stick in the mud is the last thing he wants. He’s in Los Angeles now. It’s time for him to try and blend in if he wants to survive. Anxiously, he taps his fingers on the counter as he tries to think of something else to say. Justin still looks very distracted and doesn’t seem to have any intentions of breaking the silence.

Brian decides to take the step. “So do you want—”

“Did we–”

They both quickly pause their words.

Great, as if it couldn’t get any more awkward than this.

“You go first.” Brian nods to him but Justin shakes his head.

“No, you go first.”

“Don’t worry, my question wasn’t important.”

“I already forgot what I was about to say anyway.”

“Really?”

“I think so.”

“Are you sure?”

“Maybe.”

Brian is pretty much screaming in his head at this point. When he thought Justin was going to be a handful in the morning, he was clearly underestimating him. To a degree, he could now see where Sharon’s frustration is coming from. He flinches at the vibration of his phone and he looks down to find a new text message from Bri.

Saved by the devil.

“Let me just get this.” He excuses himself as he turns his back to the brunet.

‘aaron just replied. said he’ll come pick marie antoinette up in an hour.’

His phone vibrates again.

‘and by aaron, i meant sharon in case you havent figured that out yet, sherlock. ;p’

“What happened last night?” Justin’s voice yanks his attention away from his phone and Brian whips around to face him, his brows raised in genuine surprise. Justin stares back at him, looking like he’s trying his very best to stay awake. “Sorry, my head just hurts so much so trying to remember everything last night is a struggle right now.”

“Umm…” Brian looks around for now before opening one of the cabinets and grabbing a glass. He fills it up with water and hands it to Justin. “Here, drink this first. It’ll make you feel better.”

Justin doesn’t look convinced but does so anyway.

“As for your question…” Brian taps his fingers on the counter again. “…you kinda got into a fight with Sharon Needles.”

“Yeah, I got that.” Justin says patiently after setting his glass down. “And after that?”

Brian shrugs. “Sharon stormed off and you… err, started crying.”

Justin shows no reaction. “And?”

“You dragged me into the comfort room because you felt sick. You threw up and I helped you. After that, we couldn’t find Sharon anywhere and you didn’t want to go home. So… here we are.”

Justin goes quiet again and honestly, it isn’t helping the anxiety that’s rising up Brian’s throat at all. It’s hard to distinguish the gears shifting behind those dark droopy eyes. “Brian…” The taller male begins with a pensive pursing of his lips. “You’re not… Trixie’s friend, are you?”

Trixie’s mentioned him? “Yeah, that’s me.” Brian quickly nods.

“No way. Oh my god…” Justin lets out a long groan as he rests his elbows on the counter and buries his face in his hands. “I am so fucking humiliated now. You shouldn’t have seen that. I’m so sorry. We were such a goddamn mess last night. I should have known better than to rile Sharon up but I did it anyway and–”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Brian tries to give him a reassuring smile. He’s all too familiar with the way Justin is blabbering right now. It’s the exact same thing he does whenever he’s thoroughly ashamed or freaked out over something he wishes he has never done in the first place. He would apologize profusely that it would tend to annoy most people but he couldn’t help it. It’s how he is. “We’ve all had bad nights. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

“Brian must hate me now.” Justin’s voice is muffled against his hands. “And I mean, the other Brian.”

Well, Brian can’t speak on behalf of Bri. His friend has been calling Justin a ‘drama queen’ since last night. Marie Antoinette isn’t any better either. But then again, he had spoken highly of Alaska before all this shit happened so maybe he’s just pissed at how things have stacked up.

“He’s not the type to hold grudges so you’ll be fine.” Brian reassures his guest. “Besides, he just sent me a message and said that Aaron will be here to pick you up in an hour.”

“Oh… okay.”

Brian is surprised by the lack of relief in Justin’s tone, but he could only safely assume that perhaps Justin still isn’t ready to face his boyfriend yet.

“Do you…” He begins uncertainly. “…want me to like… tell him to pick you up later?”

Justin looks at him, seemingly confused. “Why would you do that?”

“I-I don’t know.” Brian shifts his eyes away and runs his fingers through his short blond hair. “I just– I don’t– ugh, fuck. I just really don’t know what to do or say right now. This is the first time I’ve had a stranger in my place. Honestly speaking, I’m not really keen on talking to strangers at all unless I’m getting paid for it. I guess you could say I’m not much of a people-person.”

Now a look of incredulity graces Justin’s features which— Brian has only come to realize— are softer than his. “Unless you’re getting paid for it?” The taller man repeats, his brows knitted in a frown.

Brian just stares back at him.

Until he realizes he just laid out a fucking private detail about his life to a total stranger. And not just any stranger, his goddamn soulmate.

“You’re an escort?” Justin pries.

Brian could feel a trickle of sweat running down his back. It’s too early for him to be perspiring but being put on the spot is never a convenient position for him to be in. And he sweats easily so that’s a wretched bonus. First impressions last after all and based on where this conversation is going, all he could estimate is that he’s coming off as a stuttering killjoy who sells his body because he couldn’t get a decent job. The latter isn’t exactly close to the accuracy of his lifestyle though. Being an escort is more of a choice, not an essential to his financial status.

“Y-Yes…?” He tries with a slight cringe. “But you know, drag is like my actual job. Being an escort is just… you know, whatever.” He ends it with a shrug that should have gone off as a casual one but it ends up being a bit stiff and twitchy.

Justin nods thoughtfully but doesn’t say anything else about the matter much to Brian’s appreciation. He’s awfully quiet and reserved compared to the whimsical and lewd Alaska he had portrayed last night. It pretty much broke the illusion to Brian but he couldn’t find it in himself to like him any less.

“Well anyway,” Justin sighs after taking another desperate-sounding sip from his glass. “thank you for taking care of me. And I really am sorry about all this. To make it up to you, why don’t you and other Brian come over to our place this Saturday night? Aaron and I will make you something nice for dinner. Or maybe we’ll just order takeout. It depends.”

“Oh, I don’t want to be a bother—”

“Bitch you can’t be any more of a bother than I have been to you.” This time, a light good-natured smile tugs the corners of Justin’s lips. “We’ve never invited Brian to our place before so it’ll be fun. Like a cozy double date.”

A double date?

Brian flushes at the implication. “Bri and I aren’t dating if that’s what you think.”

Justin laughs and the sound does embarrassing tingles and flickers in Brian’s chest. “You think I didn’t know about you asking him for nudes?”

Oh! That’s fantastic! Brian makes a mental note to add Bri to his list of future murder victims.

“Well excuse me for living free. I thought I was in America.” He jokes in his infamous British accent and Justin laughs some more. Okay, maybe his humiliation is somewhat worth it at the moment. At least Justin isn’t keeping to himself anymore. “But fine, I’ll admit that I did have a crush on Bri once. I never really kept that as a secret from him. He doesn’t see me that way though and that was centuries ago soooo, I’ve moved on.”

“That’s what they all say.” Justin says with a lethargic grin. “I’m willing to play Cupid, you know. I love setting people up.”

The irony of this situation must be so entertaining to Lady Fate.

“I don’t think there’s anything you can do that would make Bri see me as anything more than a friend.” Brian chuckles in disbelief at the thought of Bri being actually attracted to him. First of all, Bri doesn’t want to date anyone who smokes and Brian doesn’t plan on stopping his smoking habits anytime soon. And another thing, Bri wouldn’t shut up about their 8-year age gap and constantly brags about how nice it is to be young as if Brian never went through his age.

“So yeah, you don’t have to.” He tries but Justin shakes his head.

“There’s no need to be so humble about it. I’ll see what I can do.” He then takes his things back to his arms. “It’ll be a stress-free night so relax.” He stops for a second before asking. “Do you do coke?”

Brian blinks. “I’m more of a Red Bull kind of guy.”

Justin offers him a look of what it seems to be a combination of bewilderment and disbelief for a second or two before it melts into another laugh. Brian doesn’t really know what it is that he finds funny but he smiles back anyway. He could just watch him laugh and smile all day for all he cares. Justin shakes his head and lets out a pleased sigh.

“You’re cute, Brian.”

Whatever his words were after that just went flying over Brian’s head because the first ones are what froze him on his spot.

Justin thinks he’s cute.

He finds him cute.

‘Cute’ isn’t the exactly the first impression he’s going for but fuck, he’ll take it.

Now he really is a schoolboy bitch.

A knock on the door yanks him back to reality and Brian realizes that Justin has gone back to his bedroom; probably to get his things. Another knock ensues and he doesn’t waste any more time standing around. He hurries over to the door and pulls it open without checking who it is.

Standing just from the other side is some bespectacled blond dude Brian has never seen before. There are faded traces of smudged eyeliner over both of his lower lash lines and his brows have been shaved off. He looks restless and strangely surprised by Brian which doesn’t make sense since he’s been knocking on the door. What else did he think is going to happen?

“Can I help you?” Brian asks politely anyway.

The stranger eyes him up and down, the look of discomfort now edging away as a smile graces his lips. “Are you Brian?”

“Yeah…?”

“It’s me, Sharon Needles. Or Aaron if you want to be casual.”

Oh. Damn. Could have fooled him.

He sort of pictured Sharon Needles to be the gothy kind of person outside of his drag. The person standing before him now is far from what he had imagined. Aside from the smudged eyeliner which he had evidently failed to completely wipe off, Aaron looks so clean and… bookish with those thick frames, a white sleeveless The Simpsons shirt, a pair of old jeans, and sneakers. There’s a welcoming softness in his eyes and he’s not ghostly white either. His skin has a pinkish glow, making him more human than the queen he portrays.

“Is Justin there?” Aaron asks, trying to peek over Brian’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, yeah, totally.” Brian steps aside and pulls the door further open. “He’s just getting his things. I thought you were gonna be here in like half an hour.”

“Yeah, funny thing about that.” Aaron smiles at him, scratching his cheek as he takes a step into the apartment. “We actually only live next door.” He juts his thumb over to the wall beside him and Brian’s eyes follow the direction.

His jaw goes slack for a second.

“Seriously?”

“I’m serious!” Aaron lets out a light laugh. “What are the odds of that, am I right?”

Brian just stares at the wall, dumbfounded.

Are you there, Lady Fate? It’s me, Brian.

Fuck you.

–

Brian seems like a pretty fidgety guy, Justin thinks. He clearly isn’t comfortable with any kind of silence at all. Justin wouldn’t have minded just lounging in his living room without the unnecessary small talk until he finds the courage to call Aaron but Brian looks so perpetually anxious that he couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for the guy. At least he now knows he didn’t sleep with him. None of this would have happened if he had listened to Aaron last night and accepted the fact that he was just being paranoid.

Remembering Aaron, Justin draws in a sharp breath and lets it out before bending down to pick up his boots that have been neatly placed beside the bed. It’s already a given that he’s the one who’s supposed to apologize first no matter how much he would prefer not to. The only way anybody could make Aaron apologize first is by holding their cat, Cerrone, hostage.

Justin hugs his things close to his chest and slides his eyes closed, his head still aching.

He hates fighting with Aaron.

He hates how determined they both are just to prove their point.

He hates how he’s always the first one to raise his voice.

He hates how Aaron would walk out in the middle of an argument.

He just hates what’s happening to them and so far, he hasn’t been doing anything to make things better. He just… lets it happen. He’s watching their relationship crumble right before his eyes. Everything was just so simple back then. He misses waking up in the morning to Aaron planting kisses all over his face. He misses tugging him to bed in the dead of the night whenever the blond would find himself too fixated on his designs. He misses the way Aaron kisses his cheek at the most unexpected times, especially when he’s in a very cheerful mood.

But now, all they do is yell at each other and when they’re not doing that, they would be walking on eggshells just to avoid a fight that will most likely burst out of nowhere.

Justin knows he’s at fault here. He’s too emotional. He lets things affect him too easily. While his boyfriend is attractively sure of himself, Justin is still in his little corner of self-doubt and paranoia. And he’s just dragging Aaron down with him.

So why is Aaron still putting up with him?

Because he loves me, Justin mentally assures himself. And I love him.

And just like that, the familiar light feeling of home swells in his chest and he opens his eyes.

He needs to makes things right again. He loves Aaron. God, he loves him so much that the thought of losing him is completely unimaginable. There’s no one else out there for him but that gorgeous and insane genius.

Suddenly hearing voices from the outside of the bedroom, Justin briskly grabs his bag and shoves his clothes and his wig inside before peeking out just in time to find Brian closing the front door. Aaron is standing nearby, his eyes wandering around the apartment until they settle on him. The moment their gazes lock, Justin is immediately engaged in a trance. Just seeing him again after their fight last night makes him want to run to his arms, give his own ego a big ‘fuck you’ and apologize for everything— promise him that he won’t be a hysterical brat anymore.

Then Aaron smiles at him.

And Justin is more certain than before that he’s fallen so fucking hard.

“I’m so sorry about last night.” He finally says in that usual embarrassed tone he adopts whenever he apologizes.

Aaron laughs and walks up to him, his hand coming up to tug him out of the bedroom. Much to Justin’s surprise, the blond gives him a soft kiss on the lips. “I should be sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone there. That was really shitty of me.”

“But I ruined the night.”

“You weren’t feeling well, baby. Many people might refuse to believe it, but you’re only human.”

Justin fights back the impulse to cry at how understanding Aaron is being right now. Their fights don’t normally end like this. It had always been fight, fight, fight, apologize, fuck, then fight some more. Maybe Aaron realized how often they’ve been yelling at each other recently and is determined to makes things right as well. If that’s the case, then perhaps they can do this together and everything will be back to normal.

“I love you so much.” Justin couldn’t stop himself from saying as he drops his things on the floor and pulls his boyfriend closer for another kiss. He feels Aaron’s lips curving to a smile against his and his hands resting over both sides of his waist. He really misses this— the kisses that actually mean something and not brought out just because they’re getting frisky in the bedroom. His heart flickers and his skin tingles, utterly intoxicated by their kiss.

Until the spell was broken by a single voice.

“Get a room, you two.” Brian’s voice tears them both away from their much needed contact and Justin looks up to find Brian still standing near the front door. “No seriously, your room is like literally next door.” He adds with a light-humored smile creeping up his lips as he juts his thumb to the right.

Aaron grins. “Whoops, sorry. Almost gave you a free show there. That wouldn’t be fair to those who actually pay to watch us.” He then bends down to pick Justin’s things up.

Justin, on the other hand, is somewhat flustered at how Brian just witnessed a moment of theirs. “Sorry, Brian.” But after digesting his new friend’s words more, he furrows his brows in confusion and looks at Aaron. “What did he mean by our room being literally next door?”

“We live next door.” Aaron points out.

Justin’s eyes widen in genuine surprise. “Really?” He exclaims in a pitch higher than his usual voice, accidentally letting out some of his Alaska persona in his reaction. He directs his gaze at Brian who nods at him in confirmation. Now Justin feels like an idiot. He shifts his eyes to the wall with a troubled pout. “The walls are so thin though… “

Brian is quick to pick up on his insinuation and chuckles awkwardly. “Oh my god…” 

Aaron laughs as he takes Justin’s wrist and tugs him to the front door before pausing near Brian. “Don’t worry, darling. Our noises are actually very sexy so feel free to jack off to our sounds whenever you want.”

Humiliated heat rushes up Justin’s cheeks as he quickly slaps Aaron’s arm. “You’re so damn lewd.”

“Oh I’ll definitely rub my nipples until I get these bad boys to lactate.” Brian snickers and Aaron hoots at that.

“You two are a mess.” Justin shakes his head, but he could feel an amused smile stretching his lips. He reaches for the doorknob and pulls the door open before hurriedly nudging his boyfriend out, not wanting to be any more of a bother to Brian.

“Ow, so handsy.” He hears Aaron mutter but Justin pays him no mind as he turns to face Brian.

“I’m so sorry again for the inconvenience. Let me know if you’re still up for Saturday night.”

Brian stands by the door and smiles at him. He really has a nice smile, Justin finds.

“Yeah, I’ll think about it. Take care.”

“You too.”