#sOBS i am a giant gay mess

[bluiex]

i put it in google docs to check the word count it’s a bit over 1000 words so that’s fun, but without further ado, i present:

funny things i have read in smut:

“Then he hit the bundle of nerves that fanfic readers are all too familiar with.”

“Luckily he is also a slippery motherfucker.”

“inexperienced in the art of giving giant people hand jobs.”

“Getting cock blocked my a church!”

“I’m not a food (name)”

“unsure why (name) was treating him like he was at the dentist”

“Also when they arrived (name) threw a plushie at them, hitting (name) square in the face.”

“I-uh I wh-uhm I”

“Breed! Breed! Breed! Mate! Mate! Mate!”

“(name) smiled “sure just don’t kill me””

“(name) would probably just scold them and then offer some advice and (name) would probably just laugh and offer to punch (name)’s stomach or some bullshit. “

“She then sauntered her way back to the over-eager man laying in an idiotic position on the bed, probably trying to be mock-seductive.”

“"What? Don't you like what you see?"”

“he let out a shaky breath and stood up straight(gay)”

“(name) finds out where all the missing orphans went, and no, it’s not Technoblade.”

“(very unimaginative for a nonhuman, what were his parents thinking?)”

“it was at that moment that (name) had internally asked himself three questions: am I really considering sex with a dragon? Is this really what my life has come to? Dragon fucking?”

“" Sorry gang I have to take the fattest piss in the whole year."”

“"I just don't think you are gonna be screaming pickles in the middle of fucking-"”

“Angry at (name) for even having the audacity to be alive and breathing.”

““Look, I’m your chambermaid not your chambertherapist,””

““I saw a man purchasing cocaine from another man.” He mentioned offhandedly.”

“"Fuck you" he responded, lowering himself to lay on the monsters chest and stomach.

'That's what your doing'”

“Author: Am eating cucumber”

“(name” smirked with delight, reaching down to poke at his cloaca”

“he got so many new experiences (yes, even beans on toast)”

“”did you just.. call me dude in a romantic way?”

““Were you expecting me to say ‘it’s dishonourable to attack when not ready!’?””

“(names) hands are shaking so much that he might actually shoot one of them in the foot. Which would seriously kill the mood.”

“Is he not also deserving of being a sexy pirate with huge tits?”

“He doesn’t know what he’ll do if (name) pulls away and starts talking again. Cry, probably.”

“sorry i was possessed by an evil spirit called homosexuality writing this”

“im normal *paces around my cage*”

“i need to fuck this himbo.”

“am I saying that gay sex is the solution to relationship problems? Absolutel- *dies*”

“and precisely nothing changes between Pearl and Scott.”

“the real fantasy here is having a shower that's big enough for more than one person lmao”

“not like he was thinking of boneing (name) or (name) anytime soon.”

“(name) has eaten (name) out (wow that's really a sentence I just typed)”

“Tea anon *shakes you like a maraca*”

“because holy hell (name) has got to have some absolutely incredible thighs”

“I know that we all universally agree that (name) has the biggest dick on the server”

“I just think they should fuck and it would solve all their problems. Or make them worse, but at least they’d have fucked <3”

““tiddies plz? May I have a face full of them?””

“(especially after he's been fucked into the next century by her-)”

“When he is satisfyied and (name) is a right mess and a little hard- (name) just leaves lmao”

“You have my utmost respect and love person who suggested it I will give you a handshake”

“Hi I have a headache the size of Texas but that doesn’t stop the Headcanons from plaguing me like visions.”

“(name) just walkin around butt ass naked, dick out :sobs: /pos”

“getting the fucked and bred into the next century-“

“"he's a fucking dumbass jesus christ i want to bear his children"”

“(name) lingered, because he was a simple man, and couldn’t turn down a chance to look at (name)’s ass. In his defence, it was not a bad choice. Man.”

“Not that burying his face in (name)’s tits was a bad time,”

“(name) slurred out a grumbling complaint, so far from any word that (name) was almost impressed.”

“(name), I am going to set you on fire, please.”

“(name) raised his eyebrows at (name)’ choice to not wear underwear. The man was truly feral sometimes.”

“This goes even harder (hehe)”

“Why do school work when imaginary men can fuck in our heads *gets run over*”

“Unfortunately, it covered all of (name)’s actual ass,”

“his eyes relaxing and focusing in on the much nicer view of (name)’s chest.”

““Are you saying that to me, or my boobs?””

“little panting sounds as he tried to remember how to breathe.”

“He needed to scream into a pillow, like, now. And then do other things with that pillow”

“She could talk to him however the fuck she wanted after riding him like that.”

“And my god if anyone saw his back they'd think he got attacked by a bear or something “

“(name)’s sense of time is a little – hah! – fucked right now.”

“resisted that dang mouth”

“(name) has two tits!”

“a worker is giving him a weird look for clearly having boner while staring at some bell peppers.”

“He really was a friend shaped nugget”

““If it's not a booty call I'm not interested,” “

“(name) bussy canonically has the power to unlock peoples closeted inner fruit”

“the glass was so fragile that gay sex was enough to shatter it”

“just waiting for (name) to calm down. (name) also waits for (name) to calm down.”

“and enjoy the ride””

“nor does (name) actually get off on being commanded to fuck. (well, he might. i've never asked.)”

““I’m at a vulnerable time in my species transition and you’re making sex slave jokes?””

““Well, stop being horny for five seconds and let me finish explaining.””

“Gotta have a weird gay thing going with at least one of your friends at all times.””

““Oh no, your dick is broken! I’m prescribing you blow jobs~””

“trying to look calm and collected. like a cucumber.”

“giving it the sloppiest toppy he could in his state.”

-🍞

“Breed! Breed! Breed! Mate! Mate! Mate!” I felt that. LOL

““Are you saying that to me, or my boobs?”” FAVE FAVE FAVE

[13docwriting]

'Ello! It's me again, giving my VERY long live stream review of Doctor Who, the Wild Blue Yonder.

(I don't do trailers or ANY spoilers for episodes, so it's an honest, gut reaction review RIGHT out of the gates for this one haha)

SPOILERS BELOW:

Once again, my first essay is this: I really, really miss watching it "live" with other fans. And, after a whole week of being active with the fandom, I've realized that spoilers are INSTANT. I couldn't watch this episode right when it was released on Disney plus and I was spoiled JUST by opening Tumblr to start this post. Could I have blocked the tags? Yeah, but I was going to watch the episode only three hours after it had went up, so I assumed I could avoid the worst of it. ANYWAY, my point stands... I'm really going to miss watching it with other fans because I have to make posts like this AND because spoilers are a problem.

NOW THEN.

1. HISTORICAL EPISODE. YES? PROBABLY? IS THAT GOING TO BE NEWTON??? OH HECK YES, THE APPLE FELL IT'S HIM. I looooooove DW historical episodes, oh my god.

2."But don't worry. He's got a time machine, which means he can blame me for all eternity." Donna Noble, stay sassy forever.

3. I CALLED NEWTON. Heck yes!!!!

4. Donna's and the Doctor's chemistry really reigns supreme to me. Now, I wouldn't necessarily pair Donna with 11th or 12th, the dynamic would be wildly different (huh, one day I'll write an essay about that), but the tenth Doctor needed Donna and the fourteenth Doctor appreciates that. It's really, really interesting and so lovely to see, honestly.

7. "The TARDIS played us a war song". Woah boy, here we go, PLOT.

5. It would be the Doctor to mess up history to THAT sort of extreme, wouldn't it lmao. "Mavity" to "gravity" is just too great. Aww, bye Newton! I wish we got more of him.

6. Yo the TARDIS is PISSED!!! Jeez, of course it's possible to have literally ANYTHING happen to the TARDIS, but I never consider "giant flame the likes of which a rocket could fly from" on the docket.

8. Ya know, I can't remember if I've ever seen the TARDIS's top light go on. And also, kudos to the TARDIS for the adorable "ding" noise when it did so, made me smile.

9. Bu-bu-budget. Holy. Cow. The space ship looks so good! Just insane.

10. Donna: "Was it me, or was Isaac Newton hot?" The Doctor: "He was, wasn't he... Oh, is that who I am now?" .... Donna: "well it was never that far from the surface, mate." RTD, as always, SAID "GAY RIGHTS" and I'm here for it. Very much reminded of the Doctor's infamous Shakespeare episode with Martha. "56 academics just punched the air"! But really, if I had heard a conversation like this when I was younger, I would be sobbing. Even if I'm a woman, just having a casual conversation in terms of liking the same sex is so valuable.

11. Why are we constantly losing the TARDIS. 13's era was also infamous for it.

12. Aww them fighting hurt... And you know what hurt more? Watching the Doctor comfort Donna. I mean, it was perfect, but it took SO LONG for the Doctor to be wiling to get there. I love character growth, even 15 years later.

13. "Go and kick its arse" HECK YES, DONNA. You got that right!

14. Doctor: "I know 57,000,000,205 [languages]." MY HEADCANON. Oh, my good old headcanon. So the TARDIS translates for humans but the Doctor knows the languages! I MEAN. It's confirmed!!! AH. I feel like some people would be disappointed by that but it's still cool to know that the Doctor DOES speak different languages. (Yo, my Academy Era fans, could you imagine the Doctor learning all that with the Deca? The Master is losing his mind as we speak.)

15. Once again, a million gold stars to everyone who did the music. It's so FULL.

16. This is a personal thing, but I love when the Doctor has moments that make the title "Time Lord" make sense. The whole "maybe time slowed down?" "No, I'd feel it in my bones." Like, YES, a Time Lord feeling that kind of thing makes sense, thank you!

17. "Allons, as idiots say, y!" oh my god Donna I'd marry you, I swear. Thank you for the sass. Also love the fact that Donna is driving the cart. No idea why, it just makes total sense.

18. Donna: "That's my family over there [one hundred trillion years away]". I have words about Donna having a family, I swear to you, but mostly it's this... Donna's dedication and love for her family is exactly what she needed in her life and I support her whole heartedly. It's beautiful, and perfect, and I do wonder how much of that dedication to keep her family safe comes from the Doctor.

19. I don't know if it's specifically a call back, but 14 licking the "dangerous" thingy felt like a 13 moment and I damn near teared up. Now, him faking being hurt by that? That was either 9 or 12, I can't decide lmao.

20. I'm about 25 minutes into the episode but I sincerely don't know what way this plot is going. We got a goal of "find the TARDIS by removing the danger", we've changed the word "gravity" to "mavity", and we're stuck at the edge of the universe... Love a good mystery, but I'm really wondering where this episode is going.

21. I'm unsure if David Tennant filmed the second season of Good Omens before or after DW, but I JUST saw Crawley's iconic swagger as he was walking away from Donna and I'm here for it haha.

22. I'm getting "half the ship inside a warm hole / Missy, the Doctor, and Bill's" plotline vibes. Does time move differently throughout the ship, just as Donna thought?

23. Donna: "Do you miss home? Gallifrey?" Doctor: "I suppose... But that got complicated." SAY IT, DOCTOR. Please, please, PLEASE. I'd love to hear that parts of 13's plotline live on, PLEASE. I know that's my desire, personally, but I'd kill for it. *Sigh*... But by being cryptic, it might make fans go back to watch her era, and I'd love that too.

24. Hmmm going off of #22... I'm thinking clones instead? OH NOT CLONES. NOT CLONES. Aliens! For sure aliens!

25. Can we talk about the cgi? I mean, it's pretty damn good considering what we had in the past. How crazy is that? Good cgi? Also, kudos to our main leads for their acting here! Always fun to see actors doppelgange themselves lol

26. I am SO FREAKED OUT RIGHT NOW. I didn't know this was a horror movie thing! It's December!

27. WE KEPT THE FLUX. WE K E P T T H E F L U X. We have the Timeless Child AND the Flux! We have the Doctor being so, so heartbroken about the Flux, out loud! Oh my god, I could cry. Really, I could give a great big shout. I know RTD mentioned that he was going to keep it, but he didn't have to do it so blatantly and make it a plot point! That's so, so g r e a t. AND- AND it leaves no room for discussion about 13's era! It still has continuality - it's engrained into the Doctor, even with a new writer and the next new writer and the next Doctor!!!! NO ONE CAN TAKE THE TIMELESS CHILD ARC FROM ME IF IT MEANS IT LIVES ON IN ANOTHER DOCTOR. HA.

I will write more about that because, really, it's so important to me. It such a small thing, but 13 Doctor fans can have a good cry tonight. It's so validating.

28. Oh wait, nope, hold on... Not done with point #27. The Doctor punching at the walls after hearing about the Flux and the Timeless child again? Screaming in rage, in pain, in everything that 13 couldn't do - that 13 refused to do, because she couldn't let anyone know she was hurting? 13 kept her walls so high that she tried to convince herself that everything was alright. 14 is the effects of that, a complete change, a metamorphous into that pain and I am LIVING for it. 13 couldn't scream, not properly, but 14 can.

29. Hehe. The Doctor's biggest strength, their intellect, needed to be squashed to save the day? Nope, no way, not in a million years could ANY Doctor do it. One single question and they've gotta solve it until it's done. Side note, if any reader can't tell, I am having a GREAT time. I may not have expect to be scared, but I'm loving it!

30. WILF. WILF. OH MY GOD. Aww wow, just amazing. Just amazing.

Summary: It's nothing like I ever expected. No one was given any hints about this episode and I find myself... Pretty happy with it. It's a convoluted plot, that's for sure, but it was fun as all heck. Scary! I mean, heart pounding, VERY close to the Midnight episode scary, but good! Random! Oddly randomly, I really don't know where to rank this episode. It feels a bit like it was thrown in just to have an episode, but that also doesn't necessarily make it bad.

I do think a lot of it was cushioned by some really good acting and characterization. The plot was slow going in a strange way, once again cushioned by nostalgia and everyone's need to see the tenth Doctor and Donna again. BUT, episodes like this make me excited (and nervous) to see how RTD is going to handle a brand new Doctor.

I will have a speech about RTD keeping the Timeless Child. A very long speech. But know that I, personally, am very thankful.

[pebblethief]

top five books u want to read but havent yet, and top five tips for beginner knitter/crafter type people!

aaaa. ok

i have 1.5 books left of the Realm of the Elderling series. and i am SO looking forward to the last one as much as i am sure it is going to D E S T R O Y me holy shit. cannot emphasise how much i know it is going to ruin me. i know 2 death spoilers (both of which aren't surprising. cant follow a whole life without...following a whole life. and the other one is Old lol) but i dont know specifics and im fully going to be a sobbing mess when i get there and i cannot wait

legends and lattes is...12th on my TBR but im rly looking forward to it! constantly seeing it at the top of cosy fantasy recommendations and there is a lady orc on the cover, im gonna love it

really looking forward to when i get around to the 3rd Bone Ships book! its a very cool series about giant sea beasts and ships made of bone and just. exceptional wordbuilding. loved the first 2 books a lot. bumping this up my tbr as i type this

have decided 2023 is the year i will get around to starting Wheel of Time. it's one of the Big Fantasy series i havent touched yet and i wanna (i think the only others are Dark Tower which im ehhh about starting and Mazlan which i think i will love if i go into at the right time, and hate if it is the wrong time lol)

hmmmm. god there are so many books im excited to read, this is difficult. i have 3 full amazon wishlists of books lol. just gonna put the next fantasy book Jen Williams puts out. i love her and i love how....maximalist her fantasy worlds are. she doesnt just go "ok this is a world with dragons" she goes "ok this place has mushroom forests and a giant tree that births mythological beasts and sexy vampire elves and life magic and WEIRD BUG ALIEN INVADERS and lesbians and gruff axe weilding gay men and so much more" (go read the winnowing flame series, people!!!!!!!!!!!!) and i will buy her next book without a milisecond of hesitation

ok. *breathes* im ok. promise.

CRAFTING.

[every craft] everyone tells you to start with something simple. fuck that. start with something COOL. you will be 10000% more motivated to work on something if its gonna look rad. garter stitch scarf is gonna be boring even if it is simple. i believe in u, u can google and learn and make that weird project

[knit/crochet] skip the cheapo acrylic yarn if you can. it is cheap but yr gonna stick a WHOLE BUNCH of hours into this, i promise it will be more fun if it feels NICE while yr doing it!! there are some really pleasant feeling yarns that aren't much more expensive, and it will just be a much nicer experience.

[every craft] ignore everyone telling you you need a billion accessories. most of them are completely unnecessary. you dont need the fanciest needles or fancy stitch markers or expensive whatevers. dont sink a bunch of money into something yr just trying out

[all] try out different methods!! i spent ages trying to learn continental knitting when i was starting, bc people said it was Better but. i tried and i didnt enjoy it. but i know more for trying it!

[all] if it works, it works. if u are making fabric and you like it, s'all good!! maybe yr doing it in a weird way but if it is comfy for you fuck what the internet says. things Do Not need to be perfect!!!!!!

[knitting] bonus one: google twisted stitches. this is a common mistake and itll fuck you over if you get used to making them when youre not meant to lmao

thank u for letting me ramble about 2 of my favourite topics lol. and if u want some fun beginner friendly knit projects lmk 💚

[sunlitmcgee]

even more omg wow

-

“But alongside forgetting the people close to him, he also unintentionally caused a small glitch in this world. By that, I mean an odd phenomena, a virus basically, spawned into this world due to his traveling. When the laws of this world are broken, it can cause evil things to manifest. You may have come across a giant red Egg. Legends will say that the Egg was always part of this world, since the beginning of time, which is untrue. Your boyfriend time travelling made it true, altering the history of this world altogether. The only way the world can be fixed is if his time traveling abilities are ripped away from him and the memories of his travels are shared.”

Quackity stared up at Drista.

“So…he never actually hated me to begin with?” he asked. Drista nodded.

“I have all of his forgotten memories withheld, and I can promise you that he never stopped loving you. He went through the pain of forgetting himself and forgetting you, because he loved you so much that he didn’t want a future where you both were unhappy, to be possible.”

Quackity tried searching for the bitter hatred and anger he once held inside for the sleeping brunette on the ground made of gentle pink clouds. But he couldn’t find it. All he felt was sadness, and a twinge of that old familiar love. 

Carefully, he walked up beside Karl’s sleeping form, sitting on his knees beside him. Hesitantly, he reached out, carding his fingers gingerly through Karl’s hair.

Oh Karl, he thought to himself, I am so sorry.

“You said the only way he can have his old memories back is if he shares his with someone?” Sapnap asked Drista.

“Yes,” she said, “and his time traveling abilities need to be erased. If both things are done, then the natural order of this world will return to as it should be. Is that something you want to do?”

“Yes, please,” Quackity said, standing up.

“I want our fiance back” Sapnap said.

“Alright,” Drista said.

With a wave of her hand, Karl’s body was lifted into the air, light erupting from his mind, streams of consciousness and memories flooding itself into Quackity’s and Sapnap’s minds as well. Quackity was suddenly hit with everything Karl had seen and done during his travels ; the people he met, the places he’d seen, the things he did and his countless efforts to save everyone. His thoughts of the two people he loved back home that he couldn’t fully remember but knew existed. It was overwhelming, Quackity felt like this information was wrapping around his soul and extending to his entire being. He felt as though the universe itself let out an exhale of breath.

Karl was gently lowered to the ground, his hoodie returned to its normal multicolored mess. The moment his back touched the ground, the three of them were transported back to the normal world, in Kinoko Kingdom. Drista was now gone.

Quackity looked at Sapnap with uncertainty, the two slowly walking forward and approaching Karl, sitting on either side of him.

Karl eventually stirred, his eyes slowly opening, looking up at his two loves beside him.

“Sapnap? Quackity?” he asked. He tried sitting up, but clutched his head in pain.

“Hey slow down there man,” Sapnap said softly.

“What the…honk happened?” Karl asked, “I remember…wait. Dream’s dead, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, that motherfucker is finally gone,” Quackity said. Karl looked up at him.

“Quackity, I…” Karl started. Realization flashed across his eyes, and with no warning, threw his arms around Quackity, sobs erupting from him.

“I’m so sorry, Q. I didn’t…I didn’t mean those horrible things I had said to you, I promise. I just wanted everyone to be safe, and –”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay now. You can stop, we’re okay. Sap and I, we know the things you did.”

awe. gay people :)

[inkaneity]

I'LL GIVE YOU 10 YA BINCH: 166, 81, 65, 153, 106, 39, 5, 26, 75 and 43

5: What three things/people do you think of most each day: 

- OPPONENT 

- Memes

- More memes ʕ; •`ᴥ•´ʔ

26: Do you like ball-jointed dolls? 

Not… particularly? I don’t really have an opinion on this.

39: Do you believe in horoscopes and zodiacs? 

I don’t believe in them but I still think its pretty fun to associate characteristics to people and draw connections between people of the same horoscope/zodiac. 

43: Any piercings you want? 

A helix piercing probably. ;^)

65: Name three of your favorite blogs. 

@itsonlyaurl​ @itsonlyaurl​ @itsonlyaurl​

75: Can you do a front flip? 

Nope, I’d like to learn one day.

81: Piercings you have? 

One, on my right ear lobe.

106: Do you like bugs? 

They’re ok! :)

153: How did you meet your spouse/girlfriend/boyfriend/partner? [If you have one.] 

@skiretehfox​ thanks. 

166: Why do you like, dislike, or have neutral feelings about religion? 

//deep sigh

Neutral, but I lean towards dislike sometimes due to bad experiences with it. I’m perfectly okay with religious people though! Its the concept that I have some issues with I guess.

I’m gay

[camthesolemnone]

Hi, it's like, 11PM, but I just thought of 3 more promising for you:

1: Nightmares. One of them end up eating g nightmares after their married (the severity of it is up to you), and ends up waking up/getting woken up by the other. They try to help them calm down, and yeah.

Hurt/comfort style, bay-beeeee

Crap I made this nightmare a lot more hurtful than I probably should have. Poor Heavy :<

Warnings for violence, harsh insults, and a mention of sex (not explicit).

Also you mentioned "after they're married" so I'm assuming you mean Misha and Josef. No quarrels here, I'll take any excuse to write about them again.

Scout stood in front of him, tapping his foot and his metal baseball bat against the pavement in an irritated fashion. He had stolen yet another one of Heavy's sandwiches and the giant was determined to get it back. What threw Misha off, however, was the man's sudden stop.

It seemed like he wasn't planning on running away anymore.

"So, tons o' fun, you ready to fight me like a man?" Jeremy taunted, shifting back and forth on his feet in a battle-ready position.

The Russian glared at the Bostonian and cracked his knuckles.

"You are the baby man here. All you do is run like big coward. Heavy will show you real strength!" He shot back.

Scout's smirk and the way he twirled his bat in front of himself held not just confidence, but an overwhelming amount of spite. Misha was almost paralyzed by the man's unforeseen change in demeanor.

"Does a real man just sit at home and bang his gay husband while his ma 's dying and his sisters are tryna fend for themselves?"

Suddenly, that state of paralysis came true. Heavy's blood ran cold while his heart sped up to an unhealthy level.

"How...what--it is not like...I DID NOT KNOW SHE WAS ON HER DEATH BED! IT HAPPENED SO SUDDENLY THAT EVEN SISTERS DID NOT KNOW!" He shouted, stepping forward to grab Scout by the collar and knock his lights out, "how do you even know of these things? I never--"

Misha was stunned back into silence. His hand went straight through Jeremy's body, and the nimble runner reeled back before bringing his bat down on the Russian's shoulder. The impact was five times as painful as it should have been for Scout's pitiful muscles, and Heavy was sent to the ground with a startled scream. Why couldn't he touch Scout when the man could hit him? He attempted to stand up and retaliate, but Jeremy placed the handle of the bat on the top of his skull and pushed down, shoving his face into the ground.

"You're a failure, chucklenuts! You failed your team, your family, and you're about to fail yourself!"

Heavy cried out, "Nyet!" but in a flash, Scout had disappeared. After a few hesitant moments, the Russian determined he was in the clear and began to lift himself up. Then, as quickly as Scout had vanished, Spy appeared. The Frenchman unfolded his butterfly knife before thrusting it downwards into Heavy's hand, essentially pinning him to the ground. Misha let out another howl of pain.

"I have places to be, so I will make it quick. Enjoy your stay in hell, fat man!"

Heavy wasn't given a chance to respond, as Soldier and Demoman came crashing down onto his back, grinding their boots into his spine. He squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lip so hard to prevent a whimper from escaping that it started to bleed.

"Pozhaluysta, make it stop."

"You are nothing but a greasy Commie who deserves to have his fingers ripped off one by one!" Soldier yelled.

Demoman smashed a beer bottle on the back of the bear's neck, causing him to let out a choked gasp. A rapid series of lashes from Jane's whip resulted in more shrieks and Heavy bleeding in multiple places.

"I ain't drunk, I just despise you, you blubbery Bolshevik!"

"I HATE YOU, STALINGRAD!"

"You're the most rotten crop in the field, partner."

"I've had a lot of poor souls as targets, but bloody hell! You're past pathetic, ya pig! What's this? I think you might even be bleeding gravy!"

"Mmph mmph hmm! Hudda!"

"Yeah, not so tough now are ya? Are ya!"

Misha couldn't stand it. He was being torn apart from the inside out. What had he ever done to deserve this? Why was his team, his friends, punishing him like this?

"Stop! No more! Heavy has had enough!"

Everyone turned to dust, leaving only one figure standing tall and proud. He almost seemed to glow amidst Heavy's blurring vision.

"Doktor, I made vow to myself that I would never appear so weak in front of you, but please, I beg of you, help me..."

Medic turned around. His initial expression was one of confusion, but it soon transformed into one of cold ill-will.

"And why should I do that?" He asked solemnly.

Misha could feel tears pricking in his eyes.

"Josef, please, I love you. Do you love Heavy? You said you did, on day we got married, on the day before that, so, so many times. Do not tell me you have given up on me as well!"

Josef's features softened with concern for his other half. He bent down towards the trembling, bleeding giant and caressed his cheek.

"Of course I haven't left you, Misha," he whispered with a tiny smile.

Through his agony, Heavy could almost feel his own smile coming on. His love was here. He was going to save him from this prison and clean him up and everything would be normal again.

Then, he felt a blade pierce through his chest. One that could only belong to the Ubersaw.

"I couldn't have left you if I was never yours in the first place."

.

"NO!"

Josef awoke with a start, his breathing almost as rapid as the man sitting next to him. With owlish eyes, he turned his head towards his husband and felt his heart shatter.

Heavy has his arms wrapped tightly around himself. He was crying into his sleeve like a child and his whole body shook with remnants of fear. Medic reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, but then quickly withdrew it when he determined physical contact towards someone unstable wasn't wise. Instead, he lowered his tone to a murmur and called out to Heavy.

"Misha? Meine liebe? What on earth happened?"

The giant continued to shake and sob for another minute, but once he turned his head and saw his beloved doctor next to him, he gasped.

"You are still here!" He cried.

The German's worry intensified.

"Of course I am, geliebte. I will always be here for you. Just what sort of nightmare did you have?"

Without warning, the giant eclipsed the smaller man completely and cried into his hair. His large arms were almost suffocating, but Josef returned the embrace, rubbing his back through his pajama shirt.

"Scout and Engineer and everyone-...and Doktor stabbed me and--"

"Shh, calm down, Misha. It's going to be alright, I'm here now, and I would never hurt you. I love you, meine Bär," Medic mused, putting everything into making his partner feel comfortable again.

Heavy removed his face from the medic's hair and looked him in the eyes, his own still slightly wet.

"Heh, Heavy is such a mess. Leetle baby dream turned ME into the baby," he joked, wiping his left cheek.

Josef took to wiping his right with a comforting thumb, "There is nothing to be ashamed about, Misha. We all have our bad days and nights. I wake up frequently with nightmares too, usually of you or my parents dying."

Heavy's face dropped again.

"You never thought to wake me up? You know Heavy does not mind. I love you very much, Josef. Would climb mountain for you to be at peace."

The German placed a finger over his husband's lips and shook his head.

"We'll talk about that later. Now is about you. Come now, you must feel exhausted."

And he was right. His breakdown had thoroughly wiped him out, and Medic's soft hands rubbing circles on his hip and on his cheek wasn't helping.

Smiling softly, Josef placed a small kiss on his lover's lips, a reminder that they were both safe, before wrapping his own arms around the Russian and laying the both of them back down.

"Don't worry, Misha. I promise you'll dream sweetly now. I'll even make some French toast in the morning, how does that sound?" Medic grinned.

Heavy, however, was still a tad on the anxious side, so he pulled his wonderful husband closer to his chest and kissed the crown of his head.

"Thank you for staying by my side, Doktor. Heavy appreciates you more than you will ever know."

Medic wanted to respond, but Heavy fell asleep almost instantaneously afterwards. Instead, he continued to smile in the darkness and ran a steady hand across the specialist's back until he himself succumbed to the world of slumber.

A promise was a promise. Misha was not tormented further.

[infinite-hearts-333]

Broken pack, Broken wolf

Sander sides, Analogical (Eventually), Logan Angst, Werewolf AU

WARNING: really bad writing, angsty, lack of sleep and starvation, homophobia, swearing, I'll add to this-

Before 

Part 7- Can you fix what’s broken?

Logan spent around 5 hours fast asleep, draped across Virgil's form. He was like a giant puppy!!! Virgil was currently sitting cross legged in Logan's den thing, writing. Logan was curled into an impossible tight ball in Virgil's lap, and somehow fitted, despite being taller than the anxious side.

Virgil everyone in a while would look down to stare at Logan, and his glances switched from soft, happy and gentle, to curious, excited and pleased. He had summoned a new notebook, a dark purple covered one with stars and a wolf on the cover and began furiously scribbling down notes and sketching pictures. His non-dominant hand remained softly stroking Logan's perked left ear. Virgil didn't notice Logan awaking, sluggishly shifting and mumbling, eyes flickering under heavy eyelids. "V...virgil?" Rumbled Logan willing his eyes to open, his long tail to uncurl from around Virgil and stretch, flicking back and forth.

"Morning sleepy head. How... how do you feel?" Virgil asked softly, quickly placing the book down to focus on Logan. "Tired.... Somehow...." Huffed Logan, slightly pouting. Virgil chuckled, brushing Logan's midnight black hair out of his eyes. "Pat made soup for you." Virgil offered, helping the other into a sitting position who made no effort to reclaim their pride, slumping against virgil, head resting on virgil's shoulder and made a low loud groan. "Im not hungyyyyyy." whined Logan.

"Lo, you're skinny as a twig, you're eating something. There's no arguing." Virgil said firmly, scooping up the container of soup that Patton had dropped off not that long ago, popping the lid off, allowing steam to rise from the beverage. Logan whined, and tried to hide away from virgil, which didn't really work, given he hid using virgil. "Do i have to?" Whined Logan, trying to hide under Virgil's arm. "Yes, now, face me I'll help you, but if you be a big baby I might spill some on you. So sit up."

Logan made a low growling noise, and pulled himself off Virgil to turn around in his lap so he could still lean against Virgil. Virgil smiled lightly, and gently nuzzled the others' hair before dipping the spoon into the soup and lifting it up to Logan's lips. Logan quietly stared at it for a bit, tilting his head a little and Virgil realised he was sniffing it. Logan made a small huff after a while and opened his mouth, teeth clicking on the metal as he closed his mouth.

Virgil found himself staring at logan's lips as they moved, his cheeks unnoticeably becoming a scarlet red. He imagined what it would be like to rub his thumb over the bottom lip, to lightly press his own lips against them, to gently bite them and roll them between his teeth. Virgil silently groaned, donking his head against the back of Logan's neck. He was a hot mess. "Virgil?" Logan's voice was a lot clearer than before, more smooth and silky unlike the thick ruffness from just waking up. "Are you alright?"

"Yep. Peachy. Just, peachy." grumbled Virgil, refocusing on feeding logan. By half way Logan began to refuse. "I'm sorry... i just can't... or i might throw it up..." Virgil softly sighed. "You're not gonna get better unless you eat more. Just... a little bit more? For me?" Logan mumbled something that Virgil didn't pick up and continued to eat the soup. Virgil smiled, pausing to lightly pet logan's ears. "Thank you." Virgil didn't comment that Logan's tail began to furiously wag.

After a few more spoonfuls, Logan leaned back tucking his head back into the nook of Virgil's neck. "No more....." he mumbled. Virgil softly smiled. "Okay, you did such a good job." Logan was right there it would be so easy to just tilt his head up and kiss him. But he didn't. He couldn't. Cause.... That would be weird, and Logan probably wouldn't like it and he would hate him, oh god what if he already hates him, should he leave??? Would Logan prefer that-

"Virgil. You're pulling your panicked face again." Logan said softly. Virgil blinked, being slapped back into reality by Logan's soft velvet-like voice. (God bless Logan, Virgil could and would listen to the werewolve's voice all day and night if he could-) Virgil had come to realise that Logan had turned back around in virgil's lap, his arms draped over Virgil's shoulders and head resting on the start of his chest. Hickity heckity Logan was much closer than before, practically an inch away. Why, god why, in the name of gay jeusus must Virgil be tormented like this?!?!

Logan softly smiled, and nuzzled Virgil's chest, his eyes closing as he mumbled some soft gibberish under his breath. Virgil took that time to calm his poor gay heart, collect himself, and then carefully begin to neatly put away the soup for later, and then lightly combed a hand through logans tail. Which- virgil will add- was wagging happily, and it was so darn cute.

"Um... hey Lo?" Virgil asked softly. "Mhm?" hummed logan, pressing his face right into virgil neck and oh god why-

"Um-" Virgil had to cough to clear his throat so it wouldn’t jump an octave. "I was wondering if it was okay if i asked you about your species? Only if you're okay with it of course, I'm just really curious!" He quickly added.

Logan was quiet for a few minutes, pondering mostly likely, but virgil panicked internally, thinking he had done something wrong or offended him.

"Sure." he mumbled, going back to snuggling into virgil. Virgil swallowed thickly, grabbing onto the book he had been using to scribble done notes on werewolves in. "Ummmmm so, is your diet the same as a humans? Or are you more carnivores?"

Logan hummed, and virgil could feel his ears flicking as he thought about it. "A little more carnivores? Like I can eat raw meat no problem.... And some plants make werewolves sick."

Virgil began furiously scribbling the notes. "Okay... okay.... Are you fixated on one spot in a territory?"

Logan snorted, as if the idea was ridiculous. "No. P.... Packs move around between seasons, so food sources are never rare."

Virgil hummed, intrigued by the knowledge. "Um... touchy subject, sorry... but how do your packs work?"

Logan winced, taking a few seconds to swallow before answering. Virgil picked up on how his tail stopped moving and that Logan's grip tightened a tad. "Well.... My pack was a bit..." he chuckled, "Peculiar. Most of us left our birth pack, were kicked out, got separated or never had one to begin with."

"Oh yeesh.... Sorry lo." Virgil winced. Nice going idiot.

"It's fine, we had each other." Logan hummed. "Well, you start off in your birth pack, which is the pack your parents are in. By your 10 blue moon you must have decided to either stay in your birth pack or leave to make or join a new one."

"And you chose to leave?" Virgil asked scribbling down the words in a glittery purple pen.

"Mhm. my birth pack Alpha was homophobic, so i left. My parents supported me and helped me pack and get organised. They were the best." It was hard to see Logan's face, but Virgil could tell he was smiling.

"F*ck homophobic Alphas." Huffed Virgil. "F*ck homophobia in general." logan snorted.

"The first i was Empero. Her birth pack was genetically changed via artificial selection for the usage of humans." Logan continued, and virgil flipped to a new page, writing down this as well. He wanted to help logan any way possible, so knowledge about his pack may help.

"She was my Alpha, and I was the Beta.'' Virgil could practically hear the fond smile in Logan's voice. "Beta?" questioned Virgil. "Second in command. So when Empero cant take charge, the pack's responsibility falls to me. After Empero, we met Hazel. Hazel is a little ball of energy I swear to Artemis- she was separated from her birth pack by a flood. Then Dusk, they were kicked out because of how they spoke and thought. And then we found Jackson. Or really, Dusk found Jackson. He was kept in captivity for the sick desire of humans. They wounded him till he lost an arm, and if he ever did escape he wouldn't be accepted by normal packs. So Empero took him in."

"Whoa...." mumbled Virgil. "Your packs' been through a lot...."

Logan let out a bitter laugh that stung virgil even though it wasn't aimed at him. "Yer... they have. They were the best pack I could have ever asked for."

There was an awkward pause. "You know Lo... it's okay to miss them." virgil said softly, putting down his book to lightly rub circles on Logans back. Logan made a soft sad noise, and his grip tightened more, and in the corner of Virgil's eye he could see Logan's ears drop, laying flat on his head. "Is it?" he asked in the softest of voices.

"Of course. They were your family. Nothing's gonna change that. It's okay to miss them." virgil said softly, noticing how Logan slightly shivered when virgil pressed on his higher back.

"Is.... am I allowed to cry?" Logan's voice was even softer, more fragile. "Of course." Virgil said immediately, giving Logan's shoulder a little squeeze with his free hand. "Oh... okay then..." Logan's voice cracked at the end.

Virgil continued to rub circles on Logan's back, muttering small 'thats it' and 'it's okay' and 'i'm here' as Logan started to cry. He was silent, no sobbing or gasping for breath, just tears streaming down his face, soaking into virgil's shoulder. "I m-miss them..." Logan whimpered.

"I know Lo...... I know..."

??????

[xbladekitkat85]

You Have a What Now?!

Warnings: Referenced/Implied homophobia/transphobia

A/N Morgan is aged up, about 16 and Peter and Harley are in their mid twenties. Also, regarding the warnings, there is a happy ending don’t worry!

Peter's POV

I was sitting in my room, trying to find Christmas presents for Dad, but usually, that's impossible since he has everything he wants. I was debating whether to just give up and take a nap or keep searching when I heard a knock at my door.

"Come in." I said.

The door opened and Morgan, my younger sister, poked her head in.

"Hey Peter? Can I tell you something? And you have to promise not to tell dad."

"Ok, what is it, Morgs?"

"Well, you know my friend I told you about? The one in my robotics class who's really nice to me?" She reminded me.

"Carter, right?" I said, sipping my cup of hot chocolate.

"Yeah, well, he asked me out and I said yes."

I choked on my hot chocolate and had to take a moment to process this new information.

I knew this day would come eventually. I have been thinking about it since the day Morgan started talking about how cute that friend in her homeroom and robotics class is. How he had been the nicest to her when the popular girls hated her for not hanging out with them. And he helped her when she was struggling to figure out why her calculations were messing up her invention.

But I didn't expect the news to be dropped this fast. I mean, they've only known each other for about 5 months.

"Peter, you know how dad is!" She begged. "Please don't tell him. Carter really wants to be accepted by you guys. He has a hard enough time at home already. Please don't mess this up."

"Ok, I will try to keep this a secret but I can't keep any promises." I said.

"Keep what a secret?" I heard Harley ask from the doorway.

We both froze.

"We know you're gay!" I blurted without thinking.

Harley raised any eyebrow.

"And how did you come to this conclusion?" He asked.

"He was just joking, Harley." Morgan said.

"Ok, what's really going on?" Harley asked

I looked at Morgan to check if she was ok with me telling Harley her secret.

She nodded.

"Ok, our baby sister has a boyfriend now." I said slowly.

Harley looked unsurprised.

"I figured. I knew you were texting someone. You were giggly when I asked last week." He said.

"Can you not tell dad please? If he finds out, he's going to threaten Carter and I don't want that!" Morgan said.

"He's not the only one. I'll threaten him myself." Harley said. "I'm gonna get my potato gun and hit the road. Morgs, what's his address?"

"Are you actually serious? You're going to threaten Carter with your potato gun?" Morgan asked incredulously.

"Whoever dates my baby sis has to be threatened by the eldest brother, that's the way the world works." Harley stated. "If you don't give me his address, then I will ask FRIDAY to do it. Then dad will find out."

"No, no way. You are not threatening Carter!" Morgan protested. "If you do that, I will personally disassemble your potato gun and lock you out of your lab so you can't rebuild it."

"Oh yeah? And how will you lock me out of my own lab?" Harley challenged.

"I have my ways. Who do you think hacked dad's protocols and renamed them?" Morgan asked.

"I thought that was Peter." Harley said confusedly. "Renaming the enhanced vision option in the Iron Man suit, Old Man Bifocals Protocol sounds like something Peter would do. And do you even know how to hack security programs?"

"I can reprogram security measures just as well as protocol names, Harley." Morgan shot back. "Just because I am the youngest, does not mean I am the most inexperienced."

"I believe you." I piped up.

"Shut up Peter." Harley snapped.

I raised my hands in surrender.

"Ok, I will only tell you the address if you agree to not take your potato gun." Morgan said. "You may take something like, I don't know, a spoon. Something you can improvise with, but not actually be able to do anything with. Then, and only then, will I tell you Carter's address. And you can only go there until 6 pm. That's when his parents come home from work."

"Fine by me. I know how I can threaten your boyfriend with a spoon." Harley said in a slightly concerning tone.

"Ok, I'll text you the address." Morgan reluctantly said.

"Don't scare him too much." I said. "Although I was dreading this day, I still want to meet Carter in one piece. Harley, please don't kill him."

"You got it." Harley replied, pulling a large metal serving spoon out of his backpack.

"Harley, what the hell?! Why the heck do you have a giant freaking spoon in your bag?" Morgan asked, baffled.

"Reasons." He replied simply. And then he walked out of the room without another word.

"Should I be worried?" Morgan asked me.

"Honestly, that is a total Harley thing to have in a bag, so, no." I replied.

*Time skip to Christmas Eve*

Morgan's POV

Christmas was finally here after what felt like months. As usual, we are having a family game night before we open the first present at midnight. Things were going well with Carter but he was still having troubles at home. I just hope his Christmas wasn't too bad.

*RING RING RING*

I pulled my phone out of my pocket to see that Carter was calling. I sighed softly because Carter usually texts me. He only calls in emergencies. I excused myself from our game of Monopoly Deal and answered it.

"Are you okay Carter?" I asked quietly.

I heard a sniffle on the other end.

"You know how I came out to my sister that I was trans a week ago and made her promise not to tell my parents?"

"Yeah... Oh my gosh, she told them didn't she."

I heard Carter sob on the other end.

"They kicked me out." Carter sobbed. "They didn't even listen when I tried to explain how much it would mean to me if they at least tried to accept it. Please, Morgan. Can I stay with you? I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Of course you can. I'm on my way, where are you now?" I asked, grabbing my car keys.

"I'm at the subway stop on 50th street. By the Broadway Theatre."

"I'm coming, don't worry. Stay where you are."

"Ok. See you soon. Thank you Morgan, I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Anytime you need me." I replied soothingly.

I hung up the phone and started making my way to the garage.

"Hold it! Where are you going young lady?" Dad asked.

"To pick up someone. He needs a place to stay." I said, continuing to walk.

"Honey, who are you talking about?" Mom asked in confusion.

"I'll explain later. Just wait until I get back."

*After bringing Carter to the house*

"Ok Carter, you can sleep on the couch in my room and I'll make sure you have everything you need."

"So, you're Carter." Peter said intrigued.

"Uh, um yeah, that's me." Carter said nervously.

"I would like to know what the relationship between you two is." Dad said, sipping his wine. "Friends, BFF's, I don't really know."

I took a deep breath.

"Mom, dad, I have something to tell you. This is my boyfriend, Carter."

Dad choked on his wine and mom smiled.

"Good for you. I was wondering when you would find someone." Mom said.

"Pep, what do you mean this is good?! She can't be allowed to date! She's too young!"

"She's independent enough to make her own decisions without us approving them." Mom reasoned then turned to look at me. "Unless they're dangerous. Then you have to get our ok."

"Dad just try to accept this for now, Carter is already stressed and scared." I pleaded. "He just got kicked out of his own home."

"Did Carter do something wrong?" Dad asked.

"No, he just... It's his family, they don't accept him for the real him." I tried to explain, without giving too much away. "Carter needs a safe place and I hoped this would be it, but you are acting like you have a stick up your butt!"

"Wait, the real him?" Dad asked. Then he realized what I meant.

"Holy shit, Carter I'm sorry." Dad said.

Carter looked at his feet in shame but to my surprise, everyone came and gave Carter a group hug. I joined in and we all hugged Carter the way that his parents wouldn't: with understanding and acceptance. I knew that my family accepted him and I couldn't be any happier.

"Well, I guess we got a new member of the family." Peter said.

We broke apart from the hug and Carter had tears of joy in his eyes.

"Thank you for accepting me into your family when mine wouldn't." He sniffled. "You have no idea how much this means to me."

"Of course you'll be accepted here." Dad said. "I will always accept anybody who has to go through having horrible parents not accepting them. I came out as bi a few years before my parents died and my dad threw a hissy fit. My mom was more accepting. I wouldn't wish for anybody to have a horrible dad like I did."

"Thank you. I'm sorry for intruding on your Christmas but I knew Morgan was the one I could trust."

"Don't worry Carter ." I said. "Whenever you need a place to crash, we will always have our door open for you."

Carter kissed my cheek and dad gasped dramatically.

"How long have you been kissing my daughter?!"

Carter visibly tensed up.

"Dad, don't worry about it." Peter said. "Have more wine. Then we can watch you make a fool of yourself while playing Balderdash!"

"Ok, Carter, you want to join us?" I asked holding out my hand.

Carter smiled and took it.

"Thanks for everything Morgan." He said softly.

*

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Taglist: @frostedgiant

If you wish to be tagged, feel free to send me an ask!

[night-filled-mountain]

For the Hozier ask thing: No Plan, Be, Talk

- No Plan - Do you believe in a pre-determined purpose in life?

No, but I think it can be helpful–for some people!–to think and act like you have a pre-determined purpose, as long as you’re not too rigid about it. Sometimes the random twists and turns of life just get overwhelming, you know? And you need to weave them into some sort of pattern–“A, B, and C all happened in order to lead me to D,” or “Despite X obstacle, I know I’m meant to accomplish Y.” Humans are pattern-finding creatures–that’s why we like stories so much. I can’t imagine getting through life without periodically making it into a story, whether you actually believe in some divine Plan and Author or not. (This is reminding me once again of that Brian W. Foster lyric I’ve become obsessed with: “And if it wasn’t designed, then I’ll be damned if I ever know why.”)

Though honestly, for me? The opposite is true. I’ve faced, and continue to face, so many mental-health barriers to having the kind of life I’d like to have, and I’ve fought (and continue to fight!) such a harrowing, hard-scrabble fight to make that life happen anyway. It’s a massive struggle, it’s ongoing, it’s every day. It’s exhausting and humiliating and entirely without dignity. So the thing that I like to tell myself about the life I want? Is that I wasn’t meant to have it. Some particularly nasty gods have played a trick on me since birth, crafting a person for whom friends/romance/productive work/artistic fulfillment/Happiness are impossible–and day after day, I’m fighting them, trying to prove them wrong. Clawing and biting at them with everything I have in me. Forcing my way out of their boxes, grasping at what I want, and spitting in their eye for good measure.

I’m sure my preference for this narrative says something about me as a person, but I leave that up to you, anon!

- Be - Have you changed much as a person in the last year? 

…I literally don’t know where to start.

In August 2018, I wasn’t married yet. I lived in a small town in New Jersey with my parents and sister, and was desperately terrified of moving (permanently) anywhere else. I had completed two master’s degrees just a few months before, but I’d never had a full-time job, and I was 250% convinced (for the aforementioned mental-health reasons, and a chronic physical illness to boot!) that I could never, ever have one. Oh, and I’d just gotten back from a visit to my former roommate (which remains the last time I saw her, not counting Skype), and I was suffering constant agony over the intense, passionate, mutually pining, emotionally needy, co-dependent mess that was that relationship.

And now?

I’m married. I live in Boston, in an apartment where I’ve paid 100% of the rent for the past six months (though that will soon be changing!). I have a full-time job that has challenged and transformed me in ways that I could not possibly have imagined six months ago. Like…literally could not have fathomed. Outside the scope of my brainpower. Beyond my wildest dreams.

I’m the head of my department…because I’m the entire department. I do heavy-duty customer service. I interact with dozens of strangers every day–children, teens, and adults–and I usually do it without a whisper of social anxiety. I pick up my desk phone when it rings. I make phone calls when I have to. I send and receive dozens of e-mails a week. I manage a budget! I place orders! I schedule programs! I answer reference questions! I operate and troubleshoot various forms of technology constantly, and teach others how to use them. I reason with, joke with, assist, educate, entertain, chastise, and discipline 20+ rowdy teenagers ON A DAILY BASIS. There have been many days, and once an entire week, when I was literally in charge of my entire workplace and everyone in it. And it was all still functioning when my boss got back.

…And it’s actually really timely that I should write about all this now, because I’m smack-dab in the middle of an extremely daunting work task, one that’s causing my ADD to kick my ass to hell and back. And I’ve spent the past few days wondering just how fucking desperate this place must have been to hire someone who’s been wretchedly sobbing over her utter lack of focus and organizational skills for almost 30 years. So it’s…quite the morale-booster to look at these paragraphs about just how goddamn far I’ve come in a year.

…Also, Ex-Roommate and I have gone no-contact, and most days, I don’t think about her. And if I do, it doesn’t hurt so much.

- Talk - What’s your best friend like? 

I have three (3) best friends, and they are MY WORLD, so get ready for this.

(1.) My husband. We’ll call him Kit, which is, in fact, a name he often goes by. He is a Gemini, which I mention only because he’s a very classic Gemini: bursting with curiosity, interested in everything, with a dizzying array of hobbies and interests that seem to change and shift by the moment. He teaches science, and used to teach history. He loves camping, sea shanties, Lawrence of Arabia, board games, and tabletop RPGs. Being a teacher, he’s had the summer off, and he’s spent it being a house-husband: cleaning our apartment, buying all the groceries, doing my laundry an embarrassing number of times, and cooking me dinner every single night. He loves being useful to people and making people happy. He’s terrific at long-term planning, but has no sense of time, and he’d be late to everything without my intervention. We have separate bedrooms, and mine is obsessively neat, and his is…not. He was once bitten by a squirrel that he was hand-feeding on the Boston Common. A few days later, he received a serious electric shock from a string of Christmas lights, and the bandage he’d placed over the squirrel bite was burned black instead of his hand. This perfect balance of cursed and blessed is, in a way, all you really need to know about Kit.

We love to watch movies and TV shows together and discuss/analyze them obsessively. We love to have looong philosophical discussions and/or debates. We take walks, we get Italian food and/or ice cream far too often, we go on jolly road-trip adventures, and we read out loud to each other. He’s currently reading me Charles Dickens’ Our Mutual Friend, which I have read before (twice) and he has not, because I love it so intensely, and I know that he will too. He’s the best person on earth to discuss virtually anything with, to be honest. He’s my DM in the best D&D campaign I’ve ever been part of. I’ve just made a new D&D character, although I don’t have a campaign for her yet, and Kit cannot stop lavishing praise on her and getting excited about her…even though she’s a hobgoblin, and he spent a significant portion of a recent car ride passionately arguing with me about the viability of hobgoblins as player characters.

He is absolutely extraordinary at admitting when he’s wrong, owning it fully, changing his opinions, pursuing personal growth, and just becoming a better and better person all the time. And I’m so damn honored that I get to be here for it.

(2.) We’ll call my second best friend Unicorn, which is a multilayered inside joke.

I met Unicorn during my freshman year of college. We lived on the same floor. I was the odd woman out among my suitemates because I had crippling social anxiety; he was the odd man out among his because he was gay. Somehow we started watching movies and TV shows together, and it became our Thing; I think our current marathon record is six or seven movies in a row. We’re both from New Jersey, and he still lives there, and there are few places in the world I feel safer than on his giant couch, in front of his giant TV, with snacks and glasses of Limeade close at hand, and his neurotic little dog nosing about. He has a pool, a massive movie collection, and an encyclopedic knowledge of state politics, because he works as a full-time environmental canvasser. His hours are absolutely terrifying, as are the physical and social demands of his job, but he still finds time to run a D&D campaign for his coworkers, and to visit the rest of us in Boston at every possible opportunity.

Unicorn is barely a month older than I am (a fellow Leo, though I think it suits him a hell of a lot better than it suits me), and he understands me in specific ways that the other two members of our little quartet just can’t. We get each other’s humor, we have similar tastes in men, we both love to swim. When the four members of our found family are all together, he is invariably the only person who notices all my little puns and innuendos, and laughs every time.  He listens to me, and asks me questions, in a way that no one else in the world quite seems to do. He made a speech at my wedding that reduced me to a blubbering mess. And, most importantly of all: He started inviting me to our college’s LGBT group when we were juniors (right after Kit and I started dating), which was how I met my third best friend, and how we all became a family.

(3.) I’m going to refer to Best Friend #3 as “Dragon,” because…he loves dragons, and because he was Unicorn’s roommate when I first met him, and it keeps the mythological-creature theme going. …And once again, I don’t know where to start, so I’m going to go dig up an old post I made about Dragon, copy and paste it below, and then figure out how to elaborate on someone who both my husband and I have identified as the best human being we have ever met.

This is a friend who invites the whole gang of us to his apartment for entire long weekends, and cooks for us, repeatedly. Who hosts “fake Christmas” every year, complete with a tree decorated with blue and silver ornaments because he is Jewish, and made all of us hand-stitched, personalized stockings, and fills them with gifts and sweets purchased specially for each of us. Who once baked me a cake just because I was coming to visit him. Who organized and directed my entire move from New Jersey to Boston because his Tetris-like car-packing skills and his utter laidback unshakable calm in the face of any task are absolutely unparalleled. Who is a goddamn wizard at literally everything, from cooking and baking and sewing to Photoshop and graphic design to painting D&D miniatures to putting together elaborate cosplays to theater tech to writing and research to courageous and tireless activism to law (did I mention he’s a lawyer?).

…That was my old paragraph, so let me add a few things. I can’t emphasize enough how much he carries that aura of calm and kindness and competence about him at all times. Never in my life had I had a cooking/baking experience that didn’t stress me out until Dragon let me help him make an entire dinner and various desserts for our friend group, and it was just…so chill. So well-organized and perfectly timed, but without ever feeling like those things took any effort whatsoever. He was so kind and patient with me, demonstrating each task step by step, then being entirely confident in my ability to perform said tasks, and never trying to nitpick at the way I did them or take them over himself. Part of his job involves teaching, and I know he must be fantastic at it, because no one else has ever been such a soothing balm and a stimulant (both at once, somehow!) to my poor, tormented ADD brain. Someday (maybe soonish!), our whole found family is going to live together, and the thought of being around Dragon all the time just makes me weep with joy. And did I mention his sweet, child-like enthusiasm for holiday celebrations and ghost tours and spooky TV shows and musicals and fantasy novels and text RP and all other Best Things? (Ok, he also loves dogs and Marvel movies, and I love neither, but I forgive him for this.)

Oh, he also officiated my wedding. And he also had top surgery today, and I have maybe never been this happy about anything ever, what an auspicious day to finish this post!

[lavender-ages]

Thoughts on vld s8 ending (also known as: Saltying About A Thing 24/7 Won’t Change Anything, or I Am Finally Spilling My Positivity Tea )

Since its release on 14th December, I can count on my fingers the number of fans satisfied with it, and after all the petitions made to release the “actual” ending (or to even fire Lauren Montgomery and Joaquim Dos Santos, as it seems) I really felt to say something finally positive. Of course, this post will contain spoilers.

There are two main things hated/disliked by the fandom about this season: Allura’s death and Lotor’s missed redemption arc and/or the “disrespectful” way he was handled by writers, followed by Shiro’s marriage. 

At first, before watching the season personally, I too was sad and salty about Allura and on a lesser extent about Shiro. I thought how could have been possible they really gave Allura such a conclusion, when she deserved all the happiness in the universe! And of course, my sheith shipper heart felt bad about Shiro’s marriage with Curtis too. So I approached the last episode with disbelief and prejudice and….I couldn’t have been wronger.

PART ONE: ON ALLURA’S ENDING

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT SAYING I LIKE THE FACT ALLURA IS DEAD, I TOO WOULD HAVE SURELY PREFERRED TO SEE HER HAPPY AND ALIVE WITH HER FRIENDS

Allura’s sacrifice was actual preservation of life of all the universes, an act of extreme kindness and selfless that only our palaprincess could have done, due to her powers and status of Sacred Altean and Chosen One, but also as goddess, because this is what Allura is: the goddess of Voltron. Since the beginning she had powers who went even beyond standard Altean powers: how she could feel which paladin would have piloted which lion, the ritual of life giving she performed on Balmera even before entering Oriande, operating the teludav and last, but not least, passing Oriande trial and becoming a life giver at all the effects. She already gave life two times: Allura revived Lance and Shiro in s6, without many efforts since she only had to revive a simple being like a human; but when se revived Balmera (an animal as big as a planet) she had to rest for several days. So it’s “logical” she had an even bigger risk in reviving all the realities and all the lives within them. 

I already was a sobbing mess when Allura started saying goodbye to the team but this was the final blow: I think it’s the most beautiful, touching, powerful scene of all the show, how from the darkness of the sorrow of Honerva Allura with her kindness and power made start again every damn thing in every damn reality. Allura was the guiding light of the team, of the Coalition and she enlighted once more every universe. 

I take this last part as an open ending on Allura’s fate: she is a celestial being, a goddess who is watching over the universes, but is not completely gone. The marks lightning on Lance’s face and the lions returning to her are prooves, to me, that she is slowly going back to her friends. She gave life to all the universes, it wouldn’t be much of an effort to give life to herself!

PART TWO: ON SHIRO’S ENDING

Shiro’s desire was always (and especially after the enslavement) to have a peaceful, happy life, doing what he loves most: exploring the universe and being someone the other people could take as a model, an example. He already realized a part of his dream when he became Black Paladin of Voltron and then by becoming the Captain of the ATLAS (btw, in Greek mythology Atlas was the giant who carried the world on his shoulders, I find this so perfect for Shiro!). And now he will keep exploring the universe and bringing peace everywhere, with his husband Curtis. I have to say that I would have liked to know more about him, since he seems a very nice guy but practically never spoke. Shiro and Curtis seem happy and in love, and the fact this shows ends with a gay kiss is another powerful, great image.

I MEAN 

(and if you don’t like this couple, then remember that 1) alterante realities exist so there is a reality in which Shiro isn’t married or he’s married to who you prefer and this is mean of me lmao 2) divorce exists, so who am I to say Shiro and Curtis will live together forever eheheh : basically, GUYS WE CAN DO AND THINK WHAT WE WANT).

PART THREE: ON LOTOR’S ENDING

DISCLAIMER 1: DO NOT THINK FOR EVEN A MINUTE I DON’T LIKE THIS BOY, HE’S BEEN MY FAVOURITE CHARACTER SINCE HIS VERY FIRST APPEARANCE SO READ KEEPING THE NOTION I LOVE HIM IN MIND PLEASE

DISCLAIMER 2: I CAN’T BEAR WITH ANY INNOCENTISTIC/VICTIMIST VIEW ON LOTOR, SO BE AWARE THIS IS GOING TO BE A VERY BIG APPRECIATION OF “EVIL” LOTOR

And here we go with the perhaps most sensible part of the story. 80%/90% of Lotor fans felt upset and salty already after s6, and this season didn’t change much, it just worsened things (hey people why did you even keep watching the show in the first place???). This disappointment is due to the fact that almost everyone saw Lotor as a fundamentally good person since s5, completely forgetting his actual representation in s3 and s4:

(god I love this line and it also sums up perfectly his character and his fans).

In case you hadn’t noticed, I love evil, cunning, manipulator Lotor, aka canon Lotor. I loved his breakdown, I loved all his clever plans to gain this or that, how he exploited everything and everyone and how he never let anything slip, not even to his Generals and this is what makes him different from your usual bad Galra dude: Zarkon shouted and screamed for two seasons how he wanted the Black Lion back, how he despised Voltron and Lotor, everything was clear about Zarkon’s plans, while we were clueless for episodes, SEASONS, on Lotor’s plan. The paladins understood Lotor wanted the comet to go into the quintessence field at the end of s3, but only at the end of s6 they realized what he was really doing!!! Genius. 

Lotor had always been clever and curious, two characteristics appreciated in Altean culture, and he initially used these characteristics for good purposes and in an actual good way:

Lotor knew what a good Altean would have done, he already had discovered his Altean ancestry:

There was a time where Lotor was actually the good guy fans expected him to be. Lotor had a rough past, Zarkon never loved him, but still he did good things on his first colony: Lotor had the instruments and the possibility of choosing to do things in a very good way after his exile, but he didn’t choose this option, turning instead bad, utilitaristic, leading to the massacre of Alteans of the second colony (some signals of his tendence to get what he wants without many pleasantries was when he stole Kova from Haggar and disrespected her without any apparent bad action from the witch yet).

Lotor was no more the good person he had been during the early stages of his life, nor was he preserving life or was misguided (as stated by Honerva and Allura, of all the people this is something that surprised me): a 10,000 yo man should have enough experience, ideas on their own to choose what is good without being influenced by any past experience. Lotor’s past doesn’t and can’t justify his actions.

His death was yes cruel and gruesome, but fitting for his character: while Allura died (if she really died) peacefully, surrounded by the love of her friends after a life of kindness and love for the others, Lotor died alone, in pain after a life of lies, assassinations and betrayals. If Lotor would have had the same ending as Allura, it would have only disrespected her, a positive character. 

Another important difference between our two white-haired space elves: Allura had it rough too, she lost her planet, her family and civilization, but when she had the chance to have power again (when she woke up and Voltron was reformed) she didn’t follow the path of vindication, but chose to use her power to bring peace to the universe; Lotor decided to avenge his exile and the first colony by pursuing the creation of an even more powerful empire where no Galra would have found place, he responded with other violence at violence even if he knew the peaceful way of Altean culture (and, as my friend @gogalra cleverly said, a person who makes a statue of themselves while still alive isn’t a good sign, rather it’s the symbol of dictatorship and tyranny – while Allura’s statue, built after her sacrifice, will pass down and remember her wish of peace).

And yet, in the very end, Lotor too has found peace: he is with his parents now, they can finally talk, explain and hopefully grow to love each other and making up for their mistakes to Alfor, Allura and the other old paladins.

(this image is so tender, Zarkon looks so protective of his small, fierce Alteans)

In the end, we got a finale nobody waited for, but it leaves us with so many open possibilities for the future of the chracters, the writers chose to not make “happy” nobody but at the same time gave us the freedom to think what we prefer; it’s not even your classical Disney ending, but frankly it wouldn’t have been suited for this show anymore. 

Voltron: Legendary Defender tried its best in every challenge, and in some fields it reached almost perfection (the backgrounds and the design are amazing, the majority of the plots are really interesting and characters are usually deep and well-done) but of course there are some others in which it didn’t excelled (some things in plot can seem rushed, in s8 there isn’t much interaction among the main cast, and the bittersweet ending can be enjoyed less by some fans) but it’s ok, perfection is hard to reach and this show really did a good job, in fact I don’t think we’ll find something like this soon. 

It’s been an honour flying with you, Voltron!

[winterromanov]

look at where we’ve been (through time) - bechloe fic

based on a prompt from @isthemusictoblame who wanted a bechloe first date (round about). i really hope u like it xx

“Is it possible to actually, like, shit yourself from nerves?”

Beca scrutinises her reflection in the bedroom mirror for about the millionth time in the last hour, checking and double checking that she’s put enough concealer on that giant fucking zit that’s magically appeared overnight, quelle surprise. Maybe she should burst it. Would bursting it make it better or worse?

“Yeah,” Amy replies from across the room, flicking another page in her copy of Extreme Fishing. Beca stares back at her in the mirror, horrified. “Wait—did I say yes? I meant no. I definitely meant no. That’s happened to nobody, ever.”

Beca doesn’t exactly feel reassured. “Jesus Christ. What if I shit myself?”

“Wear extra absorbent underwear.”

“Amy, I’m going on a date. I’m wearing my sexiest underwear.”

“By sexiest underwear, do you mean your boxer shorts with the little dog faces on them? Because I’ve rummaged through your stuff enough times by now to know that they’re literally the only kind you own, you turnip.”

Okay, so that’s another thing she needs to add to her list of inappropriate things Fat Amy does to Beca’s shit when she’s not paying attention. Beca opens her mouth, but no words seem to come out. This happens a lot around Amy. She’s actually run out of reactions. Her jaw swings open and closed like a door on a loose hinge, until Amy finally looks up from her weird magazine.

“What?” Amy shrugs, “If you do want actual sexy underwear, ask Stacie. She gave me some great catalogs. The stuff is really cheap and barely worn. Honestly. The elasticity in this thong I got was pretty—“

“Please be quiet,” Beca interjects quickly, deciding to terminate that line of enquiry immediately, because the elasticity of Amy’s dodgy thongs is not something she wants to hear about right now. Suddenly self-conscious, Beca looks under the waistband of her tights, wondering what underwear she’s actually thrown on. “And for your information, my pants actually have cat faces on them today, so…”

“Oh, even worse,” Amy says dramatically, faceplanting her bedspread. “Nobody likes cats, Beca.”

Beca sticks her tongue out to Amy in her reflection. “Nobody likes you.”

“That right? I’m sure if you talked to Philippe, aged twenty-four, from Illinois, because that dude really liked those photos I sent him—“

“Can you actually speak like, one sentence without grossing me out?” Beca says exasperatedly. She tugs at where her shirt tucks into her skirt, wondering if it looks better in or out, or whether it fucking matters at all what she’s wearing. She’s never cared all that much before. “Anyway—who the fuck from Illinois has a name like Philippe?”

“I think he had a fetish for French stuff,” Amy says, like that’s totally normal, “He kept trying to get me to do weird things with garlic and this one time he sent me this video of him eating a snail. Like, a wild, free-range snail he’d found in the street.”

“That’s insane!”

“I know, right?” Amy seems to agree, “I was like, dude, but some seasoning on it at least!”

There’s silence, because Beca’s lost enough of her sanity already, and she’d ideally like to keep some of it intact for the rest of the evening. She decides to leave the shirt loose and wanders back over to her side of the room, reaching out for her phone. At the top of her notifications tray there’s a snapchat from Chloe. With a half-smile, Beca swipes it open.

It’s a picture of Chloe. Specifically, Chloe’s newly-shaved legs in a pair of the sexiest, patent-leather stilettos she’s ever seen, and Beca almost has a gay heart attack right there and then. The caption reads just for you!!! with alternating heart and fire emojis—god, she’s so fucking whipped, and it’s just the first date. God knows what she’s going to be like when she actually sees Chloe in person.

“You’ve got that face on.”

Beca’s cheeks flush bright pink as she quickly shuts off her phone and throws it on the nightstand. She pats her hair, trying to make it look like everything’s totally normal and not like she almost had an orgasm looking at a freaking photograph. “What are you talking about?”

“That face I always pull whenever Philippe sends me a pic of his huge French dick. Sort of like…” Amy opens her mouth wide, her eyes inflating twice their normal size, a hand pressed on her heart for effect. “You’ve got that face on. Has ginger sent you a tit-pic?”

“What?” Beca squeaks, “No!”

“Oh my god, has she sent you a cli—“

Beca throws a pillow at Amy to silence her, who takes the shot like a champ, collapsing onto her bed a la being-shot-by-a-flying-burrito style. “Dude. If you say one more word, I’m hacking into your email and cancelling your Extreme Fishing subscription.”

“Feel free,” Amy shrugs. She rolls up her copy and expertly aims it into the trash, where it sits amongst tampon wrappers and unfinished classwork. “I was ripped off. That magazine has nothing in it about how to fool stupid old men into thinking you’re a part-time Victoria’s Secret model and trauma surgeon online and loads about how to entice carp using natural bait. What the fuck?”

Beca nervously pads back over to the mirror, where the aforementioned zit is currently throbbing painfully and looks way redder than it did a few minutes ago. She groans loudly. “Oh my god. I look a mess. This is the first date I’ve had in months in and my whole body is totally not co-operating.”

Amy sighs, finally moving her ass from her bed and walking up to behind where Beca stands. “For the record, I don’t think you have to worry about what you look like whatsoever.”

“Really?”

“I mean, yeah, that zit on your chin is about the size of Pluto,” she supplies unhelpfully, “But Chloe doesn’t care about that shit. She only cares about seeing you—she’s mushy like that. You could rock up in a garbage bag and she’d be like wow, that bitch is hot, I wanna bang her right now.”

Beca smiles a little. Sure, Amy’s not the most eloquent of speakers when it comes to relationships and emotions and all that, but it does make her feel a bit better about the whole thing. She does have stupid underwear on and a huge spot and a ladder in her tights but Chloe has seen her at four am, vomiting over the toilet after slamming too much tequila. She’s seen her sobbing into a milkshake in the middle of the day after breaking up with Jesse. She’s seen her during finals week when she didn’t wash her hair for a whole seven days. That girl has seen her at rock bottom, yet still wants to take her messy, uncoordinated ass on a date.

“But, Beca,” Amy suddenly says in a real solemn tone, tearing her away from her thoughts, “You have to let me pop that zit.”

Beca darts away from Amy’s vicinity like that superhero from one of those stupid comicbook films Jesse loved—you know, the one with the silver hair that runs really fucking fast, but she can’t remember the name because her head is full of way more important stuff than superheroes—and throws her hand up, grabbing a hockey stick (that belongs to neither her or Amy) and using it as a makeshift cattle prod as Amy follows her around the room like a serial killer.

“You,” Beca swipes at her with the hockey stick, “Are not going anywhere near my face.”

“Come on, Beca, I’ve watched so many YouTube videos on it, I can pop them like a pro—“

“I’m leaving in literally ten minutes. I’m not letting you and your huge monster hands anywhere near my tiny face.”

“What will hurt more—me popping that zit right now for no payment, or Chloe’s look of horror when she sees the start of a mountain range emerging across your chin?”

“You just said she wouldn’t care!”

“Let’s face it, you’d have to be blind not to care about a zit that size and Chloe happened to mention to me the other day that she has perfect twenty-twenty vision. On her driving test she read a sign from a whole mile away, unbelievable, right?”

“Amy, that’s bullshit, you—no! NO! GET AWAY FROM MY FACE! HOLY SHIT, AMY!”

-x-

The whole date thing actually was unintentional. As in Beca didn’t start the day thinking she’d end it securing a date with Chloe Beale. Even though that wasn’t, like, something she thought about pretty much all the time or anything.

They’re sat on the balcony that juts out of Chloe’s attic room, their legs dangling into the abyss, watching as the hazy orange sky blurs into black. Chloe’s just been on her eighth unsuccessful Tinder date of the new year and Beca wonders why she keeps going back to that fucking app, especially when there’s so many people she encounters in her day-to-day that are actually kind-of nice and not ugly or creepy that would be desperate to date her and treat her like she deserves. Because she does. Deserve better. Much better than weird thirty-year-old cashiers with BO and a penchant for rushed sex in uncomfortable places.

“And then he got his dick out,” Chloe says dramatically, complete with hand gesture to make sure Beca completely understands, “Like, right there, in the middle of the restaurant?”

Beca snorts, taking a sip of beer. She passes the bottle to Chloe, who takes a generous swig, wiping her top lip. “Men are weird.”

“They are,” Chloe agrees, nodding sagely, “They totally are. Maybe I should swear off them. Go on a man detox or something.”

“Not a bad idea,” Beca says, like her motives aren’t totally selfish, “It’s kind of what I’ve done. After, you know, Jesse. I just swore off everything.”

Chloe sighs softly. Her arm reaches out and wraps round Beca’s shoulder and she finds herself melting into her, warm and soft jarring with the cold night air. “Still hurting about that, huh?”

“Not really. It’s just—I don’t think I’ve ever been on a good date, and that really put me off? I don’t know what’s wrong with me half the time. Because Jess—he was really nice and considerate and actually liked me, but every time we went out there was this voice going we could just do all this at home.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” Chloe states plainly, resolutely. She takes another drink. “What floated his boat sank yours. You were stranded at the harbor while he sailed off. You’re the captain of your own ship, Becs. And maybe you didn’t have room for another sailor.”

Beca murmurs a laugh at the excessive nautical metaphors, but Chloe’s always like this when she’s a bit drunk, verbal diarrhoea all over the place. It’s adorable. “But I do want another sailor on my, uh, boat?”

(It’s really too bad that Chloe’s looking over the balcony and down onto the lawn, because then she would’ve seen the conviction Beca looks at her with, like she’s the only person in the whole wide world that Beca would even dream of being with right now and any time ever. They’re surrounded by stars and Beca’s fucking looking at her like she’s the brightest of them all, and Beca can’t believe what a sap she’s becoming.)

“Maybe you just need a good date,” Chloe says, “And I’m, like, the queen of dating.”

Beca suddenly sits up, narrowing her eyes a little. “Is this you asking me out?”

Chloe shrugs, trying to hide her smile and failing catastrophically, because maybe this is the point she’s always wanted to reach too. “Sure. And it’ll be the best date in the world, I can assure you.”

Beca laughs, a delirious and slightly drunken giggle in the back of her throat. She clamps a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. I just can’t believe that this is happening.”

Chloe grins, leaning across and pressing a sloppy kiss to Beca’s cheek. Warmth explodes in Beca’s chest and she fights the urge to kiss her back, while she’s in this happy drunken bubble, because she’ll so regret it a few hours later when the buzz has worn off and she’s lying in bed, mapping the cracks in the ceiling.

“You’re my favourite captain,” Chloe says, her words slightly slurred, “You’d be such a bad-ass pirate. I can totally imagine you with a hat and a parrot and those big puffy pants all pirates wear.”

“You’re my favourite captain too,” Beca murmurs, “Because, like, there can be more than one captain.”

(The conversation has kind of lost its way, but it’s nice, and Beca would’ve stayed out there all night drinking beer with Chloe Beale if it didn’t start freaking raining seconds later. Fucking bitch weather always out to kill her vibe. And she totally does not scream that at the sky or anything.)

-x-

Chloe picks her up at seven thirty. Which is weird, considering they live in the same house.

“You didn’t need to ring the bell,” Beca says incredulously, Chloe stood on the doorstep. She’s wearing an off-the-shoulder floral dress that cuts just above her knees, a denim jacket and the same shoes from the photograph she sent earlier. She’s a fucking goddess. “You literally live here. You have keys.”

“I know, but the thought of someone picking me up for a date always gets me really excited, you know?” Chloe says, “I mean the surprise is kind of spoiled because you already know which car I drive, but I do have a brand new playlist I created on Spotify in preparation, and that kind of thing gets you way more excited than cars do.”

Admittedly, Beca is curious, and the effort is really touching so she lets the initial weirdness slide. “As long as there isn’t any Taylor Swift, I’m totally yours, dude.”

Chloe lifts her head. “I can’t promise that. She does have some non-breakup songs that completely fit the occasion. You look beautiful, by the way.”

The compliment is so honest and pure that it knocks some of the air out of Beca’s lungs, because Chloe just called her beautiful, and it’s the first time in a long time that she’s heard that from someone who actually means it (and who she wants to mean it). Chloe just called her beautiful on their doorstep in the most normal day in March, with a giant red splodge on her chin where Amy admittedly popped her zit successfully, and Beca wonders if she might end up remembering this day for the rest of her goddamn life.

“You look great too,” Beca says, which is an understatement, but whatever. “Now, where are you taking me?”

It turns out Chloe has booked a table at a really posh restaurant in the city, which makes Beca feel a little uncomfortable because she’s the kind of girl who is happier with takeaway pizza and sweatpants, but she trusts Chloe and her instincts. They end up at the top of a really tall building surrounded by glass and from their table they can see across the whole of Atlanta, beautiful and illuminated by artificial light. Before she sits Beca presses a hand against the window, waving at the world below.

“You like it?” Chloe asks, standing next to her. Their reflections blur, merging into one another, like for a moment they’re the same person. “Someone I used to work with recommended it to me. Told me it was like you were on top of the world.”

Beca grins; she’s on top of the world, but it’s not all because of the view.

-x-

Surprisingly, Beca doesn’t actually hate the date. For brief, dark seconds she imagines Jesse is the one sat in the chair opposite and her stomach turns, tangled with nerves, scared she’s going to do the wrong thing or say something stupid or embarrass herself in front of her boyfriend. But she blinks and there’s Chloe, grinning and talking madly, and she’s not anxious at all.

(Fuck you, Amy. Shitting has been avoided, absorbent underwear aside.)

They do cute couple-y things like hold hands across the table and share dessert and make other diners uncomfortable. It doesn’t bother her. It’s not new knowledge to her that some people are yet to be dragged into the twenty-first century. She lets Chloe chat the evening away, because listening to Chloe talk is like her favourite song over and over and over again.

When the waiter drops the extortionate bill Beca doesn’t want the night to end. Luckily, Chloe has no plans to.

“Do you wanna see something awesome?” she says, lips curled into a mischievous smile, and Beca would be a grade A idiot to say no to something like that.

“Oh, absolutely.”

-x-

Apparently Chloe knows the security guard who watches over the Atlanta Aquarium. All she does is flutter her eyelashes at the guy stood at the front desk while she’s outside and the doors creak open, letting the two of them in. She grabs Beca’s hand and pulls her through corridors of eerie, dark tanks, illuminated by pale blue lights. She finally stops at a tank that takes over a whole back wall, fish of all shapes and sizes and colours drifting together right in front of them. It’s completely silent, other than the whirr of filters, bubbles rising to the surface.

“For the record,” Beca says, quiet and breathless, “This is the kind of shit that only ever happens in John Green novels.”

“I love John Green novels,” Chloe replies, and when Beca turns, she’s somehow fished a whole bottle of rose wine from somewhere in her jacket. Beca just shakes her head out of disbelief. “Want to get drunk in an aquarium with me?”

Beca untwists the cap, taking the first drink. “As if you even had to ask that question.”

They sit down on the floor a few meters away from the glass and pass the bottle between them, toes of their shoes touching the tank. Beca watches as a fish doused in bronze swims out in front of them, face touching the glass. She lazily points out in front of them. “That one looks like you.”

Chloe snorts. “What, because it’s red?”

“Yeah. It’s red. Like you.”

“In that case,” Chloe leans out, clumsy fingertip landing where a near-microscopic fish internally lit up by a flash of electric blue sits unmoving. “That one looks like you.”

“Well, it’s a good job I’m no longer sensitive about height jokes. You lose.”

Chloe brings the bottle to her lips, taking a sip before speaking. “You know… I meant what I said earlier.”

Beca brushes a strand of her hair away from her face. “About what?”

“That you look beautiful,” Chloe answers matter-of-factly. Beca’s heart stops. “I just think—like, sometimes you need telling. That you are. Beautiful, I mean. I don’t think you believe it.”

Beca half-remembers some line Jesse used on her in freshman year, something about being halfway to his standard of beautiful, and how it didn’t really bother her at the time but after the breakup it kind of gnawed at her, like she was the person she is now because of him and what she thought he wanted. But Chloe… she’s never expected her to be anything, to look like anything. She just wants her to be Beca, whether that’s with the earspike or not, and maybe it took her too long to realise that. Jesse was nice, sure. But there was always this extra layer of expectation with him. Like—she wasn’t quite perfect, to him, and he was trying his hardest to make her that way.

She doesn’t want to be the perfect girlfriend. She likes being messy and nervous and a bit out of control, sometimes. And Chloe gets that. Chloe has always got that.

Beca takes a long drink, refusing to meet Chloe’s eye. She watches the fish, a beautiful, messy rainbow of colours and movement, and how that’s a bit like the Bella’s, this crazy group of crazy girls that somehow all work. “You know, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about—what would’ve happened to me, if you’d never violated me in the showers that day. Like where would I be right now, without the Bella’s? And without… well, you.”

Chloe shrugs nonchalantly, but Beca feels her shoulders tighten. “I don’t know, Becs. I don’t tend to dwell on what ifs. I like the here and now.”

Beca smiles into the bottle. “Yeah, I mean, the here and now is pretty good.”

“Yeah?” Chloe smiles back. Her feet reach out, her toes tapping against Beca’s. “I think it’s pretty good too.”

-x-

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“Go for it, dude.”

“I was… really nervous about tonight. Like, really nervous.”

“What? Really?”

“Yeah. Totally skitzing it. I rang up Aubrey in a total panic. Luckily she knocked some sense into me. You know what she’s like.”

“…What did Aubrey say? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“She said get a grip Chloe, this is Beca Mitchell we’re talking about, she might think she’s God’s gift but she’s really not that special.”

“Geez. She doesn’t live and let die, does she?”

“No, no, but—she also said that out of everyone, she’d never seen anyone make me so happy, so you mustn’t be all bad. Mostly, but not all.”

“…I make you happy?”

“Of course you do, weirdo. Before you rolled into my life there was, like, a huge Beca-shaped hole in it. Only I didn’t realise it was Beca-shaped at the time, but if I had that would’ve been a really weird coincidence, right?”

“Huh. Yeah. Right.”

-x-

(It’s weird, because there’s always been a hole in Beca’s life too, and it’s the kind of hole that’s made her feel completely and utterly empty for so many years, and when Jesse didn’t fill it she thought there was something seriously wrong with her. But then Chloe—she slipped in so effortlessly Beca didn’t even realise, and it knocks her for six, because an actual person has made her feel actually complete for once in her turbulent life and it happened so naturally that it passed her by, passed her perfectly, and everything is suddenly right.)

-x-

They finish the night where it all started. On Chloe’s balcony.

The wine is long gone but Beca knows where Jessica hides her secret stash (in the gap behind the fridge, FYI, she’s really not that stupid, Jess) so she brings back two full bottles, drops one in Chloe’s lap. She has no idea where the rest of the girls are but there’s music, bassy and loud, coming from the Treble’s House—a party she’s missing out on, perhaps, not that she cares.

“I think I’ve realised something,” Beca says, plonking herself down next to Chloe, their knees touching. Chloe lifts her head up as if to say oh? “Yeah. I don’t think I actually hate dating.”

“Oh!” Chloe squeals excitedly, “Have I officially converted you?”

“Oh, no, not at all,” Beca says, killing Chloe’s high with a grin when she looks like a wounded puppy, “No, it was great, I loved it. But—I’m thinking, maybe it wasn’t the dating I hated? Maybe it was the… company, I wasn’t happy with.”

Chloe grins quietly, staring down at her knees, where Beca’s hand rests on her own. Her fingers reach across, cover them, and Beca clings on like a lifeline. “What about now?”

“This company,” Beca says, raising their intertwined hands, studying them carefully like she’s working them out. She nods resolutely. “I think this company is kind of alright.”

It would be just wrong for Chloe not to lean across and kiss her.

-x-

“By the way, that picture you sent me was, like, smoking hot.”

“Oh, you liked it?”

“Chlo, Amy thought I was looking at porn, that’s how much I liked it.”

“Well… there’s plenty more where that came from.”

“There better be. You know I’m only dating you for sexy photos, right?”

“Yeah. Totally. I knew that was a given the minute I asked you out.”

“Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page. It would be a bit embarrassing if we weren’t.”

“Good.”

“Awesome.”

“Cool.”

“…Should we kiss again?”

“That sounds like a great plan.”

“Awesome.”

[freckliedan]

ayyee den!! airports, preshow playlist, gtpwtw, and memories :)

hi leo!!! ty for the ask!!!

airports: how many countries have you traveled to?I’ve been to canada a few times-I was born in michigan so we visited ontario sometimes when i was a little kid? i don’t really remember that very well but i do remember driving through british columbia & yukon on our way to alaska bc when we moved here we drove &.. as a seven year old that’s the most boring thing in the entire world fdskjldsk. 

i also was a part of people to people international’s student ambassador program when i was 13? & i was like.. 100% offline then, but i did go on a trip thru england, ireland, scotland and wales for 19 days in the summer of 2009 & in conclusion i think that just being in the same country as dnp when they became facebook friends was enough to turn me into the giant lesbian i am today due to proximity 2 their gay energies. 

preshow playlist: one song that reminds you of dnpthere’s so many oh my god but i haven’t really been able to stop listening to one direction since seeing ii a month ago in la and while 18 is a song that like. fucking makes me cry sometimes bc it also reminds me so completely of me & my gf? amber @freckliephil and i were talking the other day & she told me that ready to run by 1d is the current, 2018 mood for dan and phil bc it really does seem like they might be coming out at some point not long after the tour and i just.. im a mess. i’m also working on making a 2009 playlist n thats fun & also ruining my lifee

gtpwtw: how long have you been a fan of dnpsince.. 2012? i looked it up the other day and i very first watched a video on november 27th that year, which i know bc my now-girlfriend-then-just-becoming-friends-ex-nemesis emailed me dan’s i will go down with this ship video then! which means i joined the fandom less than a month after the vday leak but not directly bc of the leak so.. honestly an incredibly messy time. i was engaged w the fandom on deviantart in 2012 and 2013, it was my main fandom & kind of my introduction to fandom? & then like rejection sensitive dysphoria & life stuff kind of steered me away frm having dnp as my main fandom for like.. a while? but i never stopped being fully demon in my heart, and i made this blog in april & i’m so so so happy that i did. i have another older tumblr that i’ve had since 2013 but having a blog just dedicated to dnp feels so nice & like.. being in the community is overall so good? my year has been so fucking incredible since starting to meet ppl & have friends through dnp? so thanks 2 amber for convincing me to take the plunge n make this blog honestly.

but yeah i’ve been here since 2012, dnp proved to me that love was real after my parents’ divorce, i realized the other day that i saw the first radio show live and i had no idea what to do with that information but my heart is so full of happiness n pride for dnp at how good they’re doing this year, thank u so much for asking me this question i didn’t even realize i had this much to say?

memories: what is your happiest memoryi have a few that are tied? i have a million soft happy memories with my gf, our love is. the exact same kind of love as dan and phil’s like i believe in soulmates bc of them but also me & my gf,,,, but my happiest memories?

one of the best memories would be like, so, for backstory? my girlfriend and i wrote and produced a musical out of spite at our old highschool during her senior year/the year after i graduated, and that includes like, being the teachers of a class full of  other students between the ages of 11-18? and we did the entire thing in about a year entirely on our own, so just? hugging in the lobby after the opening night show ended with the incandescent and impossible sense of we did that and knowing it was just the beginning for us? was incredible. it’s incomparable to anything in the world. 

a 2nd happiest memory is being in portland for a week in may 2017 with my best friend miles, and getting to meet amber @freckliephil & piper @asterlark after about a year of talking online? they’re my soulmates in a friend way and even though i’ve only had the chance to spend time with them in person during 3 periods of time in the last year and a half it feels more right to be where they are than to be in a different state than them it’s like. more calm and natural and relaxing to be in the same space? like, idk, i need to be alone to unwind sometimes but they’re some of the few people in the world i can be alone with and still calm down/recharge.

& a 3rd happiest memory is the 4 days i spent traveling to see ii this summer, i flew to portland & stayed w amber & piper for a night (& got my septum pierced bc i was doing my best to be living my truth to make dnp proud) & then we all flew to LA met a bazillion people from our gc and just? from meeting @plateho at the airport to seeing dnp live and literally full body sobbing when welcome to the black parade played right before the show (bc i knew every single person there including dnp backstage were probably all feeling the same exact overwhelming happiness and excitement please forgive me im a pisces rising We Just Cry) to staying up until literally 4:20am smoking weed & having conversations & just.. living for the moment? i’ve been a better happier more assertive version of myself since that week and i really, really like the new me. so. yeah. 

i’d have to say those 3 are tied pretty dang thoroughly. 

[spirkpride]

TOS Tag Game

Got tagged by @1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt and honestly? This game is pretty darn fun, because I get to type out my headcanons for these two, and no one comes into my ask box asking me this kinda thing. So, here we go

1. What was the defining episode that you watched that made you go: Yup. I am 100% on board for this. WHERE ARE THE REST. I AM SOLD. THE CHEQUE IS CASHED, I HAVE MADE THE PURCHASE, GIVE ME THE STAR TREK.

It was “Naked Time”. Before that episode, I was like “OK, this show is a little quirky and kinda entertaining, but it’s OK”, but then I saw the episode where a) Sulu thinks he’s a swashbuckler and challenges crewmates to duels and thinks that Uhura is a damsel in distress, b) everyone is drunk off their asses and Jim is trying his best to keep the ship from not exploding and, c) Spock’s heavily guarded emotional state fucking collapses and he’s a giant sobbing mess. That episode was a comedy, a character study, a drama, and an adventure all in one hour, and I have yet to find an episode that captured my senses like this one does (although Amok Time captures my imagination and amusement like no other, for obvious reasons). It’s still my favorite episode.

2. What. The fuck. Happened in the story between Season 3 and The Motion Picture. I legitimately live on a steady diet of fan theories about this and I’m starved to death. I don’t care if that dead horse has been beaten to glue, I can’t not talk about it. I love hearing what people have to say about that time period. Seriously. What happened between Jim and Spock.

Ohhhh you’ve come to the right person to ask about this, since I have metas and headcanons for days. To put it simply, I believe that Spock’s whole “I don’t do emotions” storyline is a metaphor for internalized homophobia. Emotions are illogical? Well, in the 60s homosexuality was seen as illogical, among a lot of other negative adjectives. In Naked Time, Spock even says to Jim that he’s ashamed of the emotions that Jim inspire in him. In This Side of Paradise, everyone else under the pollen are happy people who say they belong to a community, but really it’s just some sanitized, washed out version of themselves (see: Bones’ gruff nature being erased for a palatable southern gentleman). Spock was the only one to actually get romantic with someone else, and the one to break him out of his state was Jim, and Spock never said that he was sad to have lost Dr Kalami’s love, but sad that he lost the feelings the pollen gave him. AKA that pollen wasn’t sex pollen it was hetero pollen.

SO WHAT DOES ALL THAT HAVE TO DO WITH WHY SPOCK LEFT JIM????

Easy. Spock’s attitude towards emotions are a reflection of real world attitude’s towards homosexuality. Ergo: relationship with Jim = same sex relationship in real life. And I know what it’s like to be gay and come from a culture where telling your best friend you love them is an anxiety ridden nightmare, so it’s easier to just stop talking to your best friend, even though you know it causes them pain. All because you’re absolutely terrified of admitting your feelings for them, and it doesn’t matter how many supportive people are around you, if you still have those “your feelings for that person are illogical” thoughts stuck in your head, you’ll turn and run. So to put it plainly, I think Spock got terrified because he loved Jim so much, and admitting those feelings would be like betraying his culture, so he just.....left. Jim probably tried to talk to Spock, ask what was wrong (because Jim thought they were really starting something after so many years of pining), but Spock either gave him an excuse that they both know was bullshit, or Spock just quietly slipped to Gol without saying anything, and Jim only found out he left when he kept trying to call Spock, but he never responded.

1: What’s the episode that you wish wasn’t canon?

2: How much of a Trek fan are you IRL?

3: Thoughts on the other Vulcans in Spock’s life?

@1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt @ashayamspirk @homosexualspock @julebug123 @logicallythyla

[gt-lifetime-blog]

The Bigger They Are: Bryan

Part V - Monday, October 2, 2017

Iris was sticking up for me (again). I rubbed my shoulder as a black-and-blue bruise gradually began to form. Out of nowhere, the bully was shoved past me and slammed into a locker, where Iris continued to beat the living daylights out of him. “Mess with any of us again, and I’ll give you a blood eagle,” she threatened, referencing her catchphrase that stood for some violent attack, which I’m glad I’ve never seen.

“Thanks, Iris,” I muttered, but not in focus, for my eyes had shifted to something else.

I don’t know why I had seen it. All I know was that my head had turned at exactly the right moment, and I noticed as the locker that the bully had crashed into was swinging open, and something had started to fall. Maybe my mind thought it was valuable or something, but my instinct told me to catch it! The world went into slow motion as I grasped the squishy object in my palm, and it appeared to have made a noise, like a squeaky toy. I studied it carefully, not believing my eyes.

“What the flippity fuck is that thing?” my other friends, Eli and Emma, chimed simultaneously, for they, too, had seen the impossible.

I mean, it was supposed to be impossible, but, yet, here it was! It looked like…

“Watch your language,” the ALIVE figure rebutted before blacking out.

A pinkie-sized human?

Okay, let me get this straight; my friends and I are such huge fans of a community called “giant/tiny,” basically about size fantasy. I mean, imagine a really cute guy… but the size of your finger! Even cuter! However, I never expected it to happen in real life! Then again, was anyone really prepared for the zombie apocalypse? Gosh, the Walking Dead is awesome…

“This isn’t real,” Eli shook his head in disbelief as we all met after school, “I’m hallucinating or dreaming. Bryan, pinch me!”

“No, it’s real,” Iris was cooing over the tiny (what looked like a) boy, “How, though?”

“I can’t think,” I complained, “I need cookies first.”

“I’m one step ahead of you,” Emma almost magically pulled cookies out of the oven, “While you guys were deciding if you should dress him up, I made cooki- wait. If we wake him up, wouldn’t it be so cute if-?”

We already knew what she was gonna say.

“Yes! Tinies eating giant cookies are adorable!” we three fangirled.

“We have to do it carefully, though,” Emma advised, but was already too late - Eli was poking him in the belly.

The tiny boy’s eyes fluttered open before going wide with fright. He scrambled to his feet, pushing Eli’s nosy finger away, and scooted backwards, screaming.

“Mike! Help! Mike!” he screeched, attempted to scamper away.

My friends and I acted fast - each of us claimed a side of the square table, ready to catch him if he fell. Emma was the first to speak.

“Hey, lil’ guy, you don’t need to run,” she breathed gently.

“WHY AM I HERE?!” he demanded.

“You fell outta’ somebody’s locker, and I caught you before you got smushed on the ground,” I explained, but he wasn’t satisfied yet.

“J-Just… can I go now?” the miniscule boy pleaded.

“Where would you go?” Eli asked.

“H-Home,” he said.

“We can take you there!” Iris smiled, “Where is it? I hope you’re not living n the school walls or something, ‘cause it’s hecti-”

“Ew, why would I live in the walls?” he seemed taken aback, “Besides, I d-don’t have a home. They wouldn’t accept me.”

“Your parents? They would accept you for being small! I’m assuming you shrunk, right?” I guessed.

He nodded, “Yeah, but-”

“What?” Eli interrupted, and I shot him a glare.

“I-I was kicked out about a week ago b-because I w-was…”

He couldn’t finish as sobs clogged his throat.

“Take your time,” Emma coaxed, “We’re listening.”

“B-Because I was gay,” he concluded.

We shook our heads in disapproval and shock. How could parents even do that to a child?

“Fuck them, dude,” Iris broke the silence, opening her palm to the tiny, “Just, fuck ‘em.”

“L-Language,” he muttered, causing me to burst out in laughter.

“Sorry. What’s your name, lil’ guy?” Iris inquired.

“I-I’m Owen,” he glanced at Iris before looking away quickly.

“Well, I’m Iris. This is Bryan,” she pointed to me, “Emma, and Eli. You don’t have to be afraid.”

Owen sniffled again, wiping his eyes.

Iris laid out her palm.

“May I?”

He nodded and stepped on.

We each got a chance to hold Owen once he was (somewhat) comfortable with us. While he wasn’t looking, I couldn’t help but snap a few pictures! I mean, is it every day that you find a teenager the size of your finger wearing a crop-top?

“How many did you actually take?” Owen raised an eyebrow - he had been communicating quite well with the group for a while.

“Owen, I said five… plus fifteen,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Did you post them?” there was a slight growl in his high-pitched voice.

“Maybe?” I poked his cheek, and he swatted the finger away, “Oh my God, you’re so cute! Platonically, though.”

Owen rolled his eyes, peering at my phone.

“You have to delete those, dude,” he advised, “Not only are they embarrassing, but I don’t know if people should know about this!”

I froze. How long had they been up? I check my Tumblr blog.

“It’s little too late for that, Teddy,” I grimaced, attempting to lighten the mood with the nickname I came up for him.

“I told you not to call me that! And, whaddya’ mean it’s ‘too late?!”

“I shared them on, like, every social media site,” I began, “Over an hour ago.”

“Shit!”

“Owen, language.”

[moonraccoon-exe]

-cut scene to Prompto crying loudly into a pile of chocolates- Ignis: *rushes over like any good worried mother would* "Prompto what's wrong?!" Prompto, sobbing: "N-nothing," *sob* "just these st-upid cho-colates" *sniff* "ruining my life! embar-" *loud tear choked sniff* "rassing me forever. He'll never love me now Iggy!" *throws the kisses off the table all over the floor and clings to Iggy's shirt covering it with tears and snot*

[From this comic I reblogged]

Ahahahahhahahahahahah!!! Aaw, I’m so sorry Prompto, but I can’t help it and I just laugh at this situation because it’s just one giant mess of awkwardness and I love it ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡

The best part of this is that you first said that Prompto’s crying into a pile of chocolates, then later it’s described the chocolates are on the table, so while he could be sat, I like the mental image of Prompto curled up ON TOP of the table and surrounded by thousands of Kisses, sobbing hysterically XD

“IGNIS, I AM AN IDIOT AND I DID THIS STUPID THING AND I THOUGHT HEY HE’S GONNA CATCH IT AND HE’S GOING TO SAY YES BUT IF HE DOESN’T I HAVE THESE CHOCOLATES AND MY GODS IGNIS IT WAS THE MOST STUPID EXCUSE THAT HAS EVER EXISTED AND I’M SO SAD BECAUSE HE BASICALLY REJECTED ME AND NOW I CAN’T LOOKAT HIM TO THE EYES WITHOUT REMEMBERING I ASKED HIM FOR A KISS THEN TOOK OUT A PACKET OF KISS CHOCOLATES, IGNIS, I TOOK OUT A GODDAMN PACKET OF KISS CHOCOLATES (ﾉД`) ”

Good thing Iggy exists. Poor Prommy is having an embarrassment breakdown and needs some emotional support. 

Iggy’s going to hold him and not mind all the snot that ends up on his shirt, because, hey, that’s what friends are for, right? ( ´ ▽ ` )

Ignis is probably going to talk with Noctis about his gay awkwardness, though. Poor boy needs to learn to catch it for once x)

[luruneth]

The San’layn - Part 2

[M/M, cis, gay, vampires, WoW]

Your eyes cracked open slowly. Your entire body ached as if you'd been in a shipwreck. The dim lighting of the room made it nigh impossible to see, but it only took seconds of lucidity to remember where you were. Your heart swelled. Tangled up in a mess of scarlet and gold sheets and blankets with you was a gorgeous, pale-blue San’layn. His arms were around you, cradling you against his breathless chest. You nuzzled against him and he took your hand gently in his own. With his other hand he ran his fingers through your long, blood-red hair. He lifted your chin to look at him, and as your face tilted up towards his, he leaned in to tenderly kiss you on the lips. As his icy tenderness enveloped you, flames danced in your heart. He pulled you completely on top of him, and now your faces were but an inch away.

You sank into him, your heart beating like war drums. His lips pressed against yours with yearning. As you kissed him, you felt your seating situation change. Against your rear you felt him bulging. You opened your eyes, and he opened his, your gazes locked. His soft blue eyes burned with lust, flecks of scarlet swimming through his frosty irises, threatening to completely overtake him. Your arm behind your back, you reached a hand down slowly to stroke him. His cock swelled against your exposed rear. You felt yourself growing wet, and so could he. He purred at you, his deep voice echoing with the taint of undeath. You lifted yourself up and seated yourself back down onto his erect cock. He growled. Red flashed for a moment in those fierce eyes of his.

You gently swayed back and forth on top of him, your inner walls tightening and gliding against his enormous dick. You kissed him with the intensity of a raging forest-fire. His hands ran through your messy scarlet hair, and his hands shook as he desperately struggled to remain gentle with you, his claws only scraping the skin of your back, his fangs unsheathing and retracting cyclically. You put your hands on his blueish chest and pulled away for a moment, looking at him. His eyes cried out desperately to you - you could see he wanted so much more. And so did you.

You leaned in, the side of your face flush against his, and whispered:

“Don’t be afraid of hurting me. Let’s do it again…”

You felt his cock swell inside of you and against the side of your face, his long, cold fangs slid out from their hiding place. You sat up, arching your back to look at his face. His eyes glowed blood red and burned with rabid hunger. His fangs remained unsheathed. He yanked you closer to him. You moaned as he pressed you up against his chest, holding you in place as he vigorously pumped his growing cock into again and again. He growled like a wildcat as you took him into you, your hips swaying and whimpers escaping your lips. He came in you, cum flooding through you, filling you up - but he did not withdraw. He kept thrusting, seemingly determined to do it again. His cock writhed and spasmed in you, and you groaned as you felt its contents seeping out of you with every plunge that he made. He lifted you into the air, your body leaking his fluids all over the scarlet and gold duvet. He flipped you over so that you were now on your hands and knees. Without warning or hesitation he dove into you once again, savagely pounding you, his hips flushing with your rear at the zenith of each thrust. Your breathing grew ragged and your voice cracked as he began to drive into you harder and faster. With one hand you began stroking yourself as he ravaged your rear end.

You knew he didn’t need to breathe, but you heard him gasping and raggedly huffing. You felt… something change about him. You heard a cracking, splitting noise behind you, and his cock, still thrusting into you, grew more than any erection could offer. It nearly doubled in size and a scream escaped your lips as its girth swelled to gargantuan proportions within you. You craned your neck to look at him, wondering what was going on. You really shouldn’t have looked at him.

The San’layn filling your abdomen looked nothing like an elf anymore. His eyes now emitted a blazing crimson trail, and his light-blue skin had grown a dark grey. His fangs cascaded even further down his chin, almost surpassing the end of his face. His clawed hands were now adorned with gleaming talons. Shadows enveloped him, his features morphing into silhouettes under the guise of darkness. He was probably a foot or two taller now, as well. Fear gripped your heart, but so did excitement as this… thing… ferociously fucked you, rocking your body back and forth with the force of a small earthquake. You screamed again as those imposing talons ripped through the flesh on your back. A nigh demonic howl resonated through the chamber from him. With one enormous hand and using his dick for a bit of extra leverage, he lifted you and held your small body against him, thrusting even harder as you sank back onto his entirety. His fangs tore through the skin on your throat, and you felt them aggressively siphoning the life from you. He thrust harder and harder, and the flesh on your chest and thighs burned as his free hand ripped your body apart.

Your eyes grew heavy. Your vision was darkening. You moaned weakly for him to stop, he was killing you for real this time. His giant cock throbbed within you and you felt it gush cum through you in waves. Blood poured from your body. Your ass ached with pleasure and cum had leaked from your cock, but your heart beat feverishly as you struggled to stay alive. His fangs were still in you, draining whatever you had left. You felt yourself growing colder, and everything got so quiet. He couldn’t control himself. This was the end.

________________________________________________________

Your senses returned to you as you metamorphosed back into your normal form. Panic ripped through your body. The mage had gone limp. No more moans or screams emanated from him. His flesh had grown cold, the fire within him extinguished.

“No… no… NO!” You screamed. This was the first mortal you’d ever felt so strongly for. You quickly stood up, your engorged cock sliding out of him with a cascade of cum. Tears rolled down your face. Your cries echoed through the empty caverns of the Crimson Halls. You felt a twinge of hope in your heart, but it quickly became strangled by dread. You were San’layn. He was Sin’dorei… there had to be a way. You had everything you needed to try to turn him here. But could you possibly curse him to an eternity of undeath? Maybe he’d like it. Regardless, he was too young to die. You had to do something. You picked up his delicate form and it crumpled into you like a wilted flower. Your chest heaved as your entire body was wracked with sobbing. You took a deep breath - only to calm yourself if anything, as you didn’t actually need to breathe - and composed yourself. Tears streamed down your face as you carried him through the desolate halls.

You laid him down on the altar. Ritual knives, books, and reagents lay on a table nearby. The San’layn had experimented on both the living and the undead, but never deigned to go so far as Putricide at the height of his insanity. They were simply finding a way to keep their people alive and their numbers growing without Arthas’ aid should he have died or abandoned them. And they had been close, too, before Icecrown was ransacked and Arthas was killed. The new Lich King had no love for any of the survivors of Icecrown Citadel’s fall, so whatever solution there could be was now completely up to you.

You had been a lab assistant before fleeing upon the arrival of the Ebon Blade and the Argent Crusade. This place had remained untouched; no one but the San’layn knew of this place, as its entrance was hidden to all but the eyes of those who created it. You poured through runed, leather-bound tomes, searching for what you knew was the culmination of your master’s research. A gasp escaped your mouth. There it was. The Ritual of Sanguine Reanimation.

____________________________________________________________

Darkness enveloped you as the last spark of life fizzled from your weak body. There was some kind of peace in it, the absolute quiet of eternal slumber. As your mind, or possibly your soul traversed through the Nether, you finally understood the meaning of silence. Nothing surrounded you, Nothing cradled you, Nothing encompassed your everything. Nothing was pierced by a radiating light. Nothing ceased to be as something entered the void and grabbed whatever form you embodied. As you were drawn closer to this light, you saw that it appeared to be a reflection of Azeroth. Before you could comprehend why you were seeing this, you were yanked through the frontier.

Your eyes flashed open. Wait - your eyes - you had eyes again. You were alive? How? No… something was wrong… something was different. You were so cold. You felt like a statue, and you could tell you were laid out on some sort of table.

Your senses came rushing back to you when a soft sobbing broke the silence that had dominated your world. You heard his voice, trembling and weak, muttering to himself.

“Please… gods damn you… work… WORK! What did I do wrong… what did I do wrong?! This should have worked!”

You heard the rustling of old, decrepit pages, a sound familiar to you because of your extensive time studying magic and lingering in the droll-as-ever Hall of the Guardian with the Kirin Tor.

You spoke, but your voice was not what you were expecting. You sounded almost the same as you had before… dying? Is that what happened? Regardless, your voice rang with a hollow echo, not unlike the San’layn who had bedded you. It rang with the echo of undeath.

“Am I… alive?”

You heard him gasp, and his gentle sobbing turned into an explosive fit of crying. You turned your head to look at him. You felt as if you were encased in stone. Knives, alchemical vials, scattered pages and leather-bound tomes surrounded him on his spot on the floor. He bounced to his feet, nearly tripping, and rushed over to you. His hands cupped your face, and he helped you sit up. You were on some sort of altar in the centre of a dark laboratory. You’d been to Icecrown Citadel so many times, yet never had you seen this place.

“I… I’m so sorry…” he began, sobs escaping his lips, “I… lost control.. You were gone… I- I didn’t know what else to do, I couldn’t just lose you…”

The weight of what he had done settled onto your mind. He had resurrected you. But he was no priest, nor was he the Lich King… were you… were you like him now?

“I’m sorry…” His voice trailed off and he began to sob violently. You put your arms around his convulsing form and pulled him close to you. In a strange turn, it was now you lifting him up, holding him close to your chest. You cooed, your soft voice echoing faintly, and you ran a hand through his long, silken white hair. Gods, your skin was so pale. You rocked back and forth as he shivered and sobbed. You had never felt so tender towards anyone, or anything really. Your heart no longer beat in your chest, but you felt an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for him. You were so strong now… even more so than before. Your crimson hair glared against the nearly translucent white sheen of your arms. He clutched a lock of your long hair as he pressed himself against you, his shaking becoming less intense. His tears streamed down your bare chest. A blanket had been draped over your lower body while you were dead. You wrapped him up in it. You swept your feet off the altar, and firmly stood up, cradling him in your arms. A strength flowed through you, strength unending and unimaginable. His weight was no burden to you whatsoever. You could get used to this…

You glided over to the edge of the room soundlessly, every step as graceful as that of a lynx. You pressed your back to the wall and eased yourself onto the floor. You leaned against the cold, steel wall. He was no longer crying in your arms. He looked up at you.

“Your eyes… they still glow with fire…” He whispered. His icy gaze locked into yours. A pained expression of guilt cut through his face. You wiped that stupid look off his face as you pressed your lips into his. You ran your hand through his soft, snow-coloured hair and cupped the back of his head. Your face still pressed against his, you withdrew only a sliver away from his lips to whisper in a soft, echoey voice:

“Don’t look so dismayed. This is more than I could have ever wanted…”

You lifted his chin and kissed him again. Oh, the possibilities of this new body. You couldn’t wait to see what lay ahead.