#saw their nonbinary bag

[theres-whump-in-that-nebula]

When you’re so happy to see a fellow queer person irl, (but also debilitatingly socially-awkward) that you accidentally give off microaggressions

[autism-corner]

i love love love pride every time i see a prideflag irl i get so happy oml.

[the-dawn-star]

Heyyy, hope your doing well! I was wondering if I could request Sukuna x fem!teen! reader platonic (if you aren't comfortable writing for fem reader then nonbinary is fine as well) in modern day (so yuji is sukuna's vessel) and sukuna taking an interest in reader like he finds her powerful/interesting and decides to take her under his wing?? Tyy <3

A/N: Hey and thanks for the request! I changed the idea a bit but I hope you like it still.

-S

+500ish words.

You had never met Sukuna personally, which is something that Yuuji was very grateful for.  

It was a weird little thing that Sukuna did when Yuuji was with you. He shut up. At first Yuuji was a bit worried of the sudden silence of the curse but let it go after understanding that this was his brief moment of silence.  

But really Sukuna was studying you and for that reason so quiet. He could see the power that surrounded you. He saw the potential that you had, but the jujutsu sorcerers didn’t seem to see that the same way.  

The unused potential really caught Sukuna’s attention and in the dark of the night, when Yuuji was asleep, his defenses were easy to break.  

Sukuna took control of the body, giving himself a few minutes to stretch before leaving the room.  

He didn’t have a clear mission for the evening, more it was the need for control of his vessel and need for getting outside even if for a moment.  

The grounds were completely silent if not for a grunting of your training.  

Sukuna followed your sounds, finding you in the training grounds. 

Your hits were poorly placed, and Sukuna was sure that you were going to sprain your arm at some point if you hadn’t already.  

All that potential... but whoever had trained you should not be doing it...  

You punched the punching bag hitting with cursed energy infused into your punch and as a result the bag broke off of its place and flew a few feet away from you thudding to the ground sadly.  

And at the same time you felt the piercing pain in your arm, and you let out a tiny whine.  

“You should be in bed.”  

You turned away seeing your friend standing lazily behind you.  

“So, should you too, Yuuji.” You said, smiling to your friend. The darkness really covered the marks that started to come to your vision as Sukuna walked closer to you before standing right in front of you.  

Terror landed on your face as you realized who was standing in front of you and for a second you forgot the pain in your arm.  

Sukuna laid his hand to your arm where the piercing pain was and for a second you expected him to rip you to pieces.  

But he didn’t, instead the pain lessened slowly before disappearing completely.  

You couldn’t help but stare at the curse.  

“I will see you tomorrow night here. And maybe with a little bit of practice you can reach your true potential.” It wasn’t a question; it was an order. 

“Why...” Your voice was shaking.  

“Because these idiots are never going to let you be as strong as you truly are...”  

You didn’t have time to say anything else, as Sukuna turned around and went back inside, leaving you alone in the yard.  

Feel like you want to support me via Kofi? No preasure tho!

[wordy-little-witch]

Nonbinary Buggy Hours lezzgo

• Fairly early on, Buggy got the whole "I don't fit in" vibe but chalked it up to Being On A Crew Of Monsters. It's only after Oden and later Toki join that things begin piecing together - I'm dropping some cultural blending here but Wano for whatever reason has WILD mixed bag energy as far as folk tales go. Roger has some flavor of UK Energy, Rayleigh has old English vibes, etc etc. Buggy and Shanks got old seamen's tales as bedtime stories, shanties as lullabies, but the crew also would share children's stories and folk tales from THEIR youths as well. Some of them had mystical aspects as well and there were some fun stories with the fair folk or spirits and shape-shifting. Buggy loved those the most.

• Toki joining the crew led to some quick acclimation, but Buggy was hesitant - she was New and Unknown and so a Danger. But Toki was just.... so sweet about it all. Buggy went from I Don't Trust You At All to That's My Auntie within maybe a month. Complete night and day.

• Bugs' First Forray Into Makeup was via Toki. They do silly Self Care Evenings and include the babies and Oden is SO SMITTEN and Roger is DYING for a camera. ((Shanks is dying for other reasons, much to nearly everyone's amusement, poor kid)).

• Buggy's first instance of being Not A Boy was a result of a silly trick/prank done by the crew on Fishman Island. Some really fancy restaurant had a Mermaids Eat Free event going on so they decide to dress the kids up as mermaids - Shanks is down for the funnies, and is laughing and bright eyed and finding humor in it. Buggy is prickly and snarky and sassy the whole time until he saw himself in the mirror. He went... alarmingly quiet.

- Buggy was frankly stunned because the mer-species they went with was a clownfish, something he was absolutely LIVID about, but the orange complemented his skin and hair so beautifully. The orange, white and black hair pin holding his hair was a wonderful pop of color. The black eye liner made his eyes pop, the bronze-peach lip gloss was stunning and....

They felt so wonderful. So beautiful. So Free.

• Buggy wears orange a lot after that.

• when Buggy hesitantly asks Rayleigh and Roger if genders can be different in real life, Rayleigh is confused, Roger cackles- Buggy's scared for a moment until Roger point blank says "oh, it can be whatever you want it to, baby blue! We're pirates - who cares for allowance?" Then the captain gives that smile, the soft one, the one only those deemed His got to see, the one that peeled back layers of a person and saw to their cores, and asks, "Is there something you want to tell us, squirt?"

"I'm... not a boy."

"Okay. Are you a girl, then?"

"I don't think so."

"Alright! Ye' still want to go by Buggy?"

"Mmhmm."

"Alrighty then! You just let me know if anything comes up that you want to tell me, alright, baby bug?"

"Okay. Thanks, Captain!"

• yes, when Buggy leaves, Roger wails. Yes, Rayleigh gives a long suffering sigh and pays his back. And yes, Roger is crying hecausr that happy smile of Buggy's was simply "too cute, my heart! It's melting!! I'm a pirate puddle!!!"

• Buggy, with the room to experiment safely and explore, finally settles on nonbinary, neither gender really all that interesting, but pronouns don't matter either. Presentation is all about Presentation (<MegaMind Voice)

• Shanks calls Buggy his Clown Wife and Buggy refuses to admit to blushing every time it happens. He also drops lines like "I miss my clown wife" while sipping a bottle of rum and staring forlorn at the sea.

• Shanks also has The Range and will unashamedly be like "I don't understand people who say their wife is a bitch and they hate them.... my wife is a bitch and I like him SO MUCH!!!!"

• Luffy and Buggy: Enby to enby communication. Autism to autism antagonist.

• Buggy's crew BTW knows that their captain is simply Their Captain, pronouns your/majesty (/j), and nobody cares beyond the mild worry that a femme presenting Buggy will accidentally seduce another high ranked naval officer because somehow that ALWAYS HAPPENS. And the Navy is the MILDER concern. They're so stressed.

• lowkey considered clowncore meets punk bc I feel like Buggy would be. Scrumptious. Like that. Colors and patterns and leather and lace and studs and smiles and just - hhhhhhhh niche interest leave me aloooone-

• speaking of niche, I really love the idea of the Buggy pirates all having a passing knowledge of both circus acts and management, leading to random bouts of.... really smart insight. Like. Some outsider or newcomer is like "damn this right here is a Problem" and some average joe lookin ass in harlequin diamond patterned tights somersaults over, drops a nugget of wisdom and fucking absconds. Let The Circus Bastards Be Weird, I Love Them They Deserve It.

• also the crew drinks Respect Women Juice no I don't make the rules but I DO enforce them. They drink Respect Everyone Juice but women are simply the biggest of the recipients of the regard. Sex, color, religion, abled-ness, gender, sexuality - none of that matters. Everyone us equal. The buggy pirates support equal rights and equals lefts.

• Crocodile and Mihawk did NOT receive the memo at the beginning which led to some very wild miscommunications but it was resolved when it was revealed that Mihawk is just Like That To Everyone and Crocodile didn't even realize Kimi-san from the marketing department was a girl when he went off on her. Mihawk, when asked about his treatment of others, just owl blinked and made a vaguely threatening comment on how women, men, he didn't care, they all get cut the same. Crocodile just took a puff of his cigar with a monumental 'what the fuck' face. "I would say the same things to a man, a person, a woman, both, neither, I literally could not be paid to care about someone's crotch configuration or identity what the hell."

• Buggy wears a dress for the first time in Cross Guild's creation, and Crocodile breaks a fountain pen while Mihawk carefully sets his wine glass down hopes nobody notices the hairline fractures. Buggy is oblivious, as they tend to be.

• after some awkward half assed roundabout questioning, Mihawk and Crocodile just..... casually drop some dresses into Buggy's care or room, wordless and embarrassed but also lowkey threatening. Buggy is terrified until he realizes that some math isn't mathing and just asks. He's pretty decent at reading between the lines (#weaponizing-the-anxiety), and the first conclusion is wayyyyy off but the second conclusion causes clown.exe to crash HARD, to Alvida's delight and Galdino's suffering, but at least the nail polish is dry and the wine is good.

• it becomes a bit of a THING once the polycule is running, a subtle display of possessiveness. Collars don't really Work on Buggy, though he lowkey wishes they did, so this is a very good followup alternative

• Crocodile really likes putting Buggy in coordinated colors with his outfit or crisscross patterns both because Possessive and Claim but also because Buggy looks mouthwatering in it. Mihawk has much the same response for deep jewel tones, black and lace. Buggy adores the attention and the heated gazes, the little minx.

• there's precious little that really irks Buggy all in all, and she really does play the "am I man,am I a woman? No I'm a PYROMANIAC BURN BABY BURNNN-" card very well, good for them.

Incorrect quotes time

Alvida: as the crew's lady-

Buggy: hAH-

Alvida: I said lady, Buggy, ladies have CLASS, smth you LACK-

Buggy: oh okay fair carry on.

<><><><>

Boa: why are you not STONE?!

Buggy: I mean... you're cute but I really don't do girls, miss ma'am.

Boa: what

Buggy: also any aesthetic appreciation is drowned by the gender envy

Boa: wHaT?

<><><><><>

Buggy: I'm gay

Mohji: oh em gee what a shocker

Buggy: >:o0 rude!!!!!

Mohji: how is that rude, it's an astute observation-!!!!

<><><><><>

Rando: what are you

Buggy: I'm captain Buggy

Rano: no, what are you

Buggy: oh uh the flashy fool, genius jester, Buggy the Clown-

Rando: ugh, no, I mean what's in your pants!!

Buggy: Ohhh! Knives.

Rando: wha- OHGOD-!

Buggy, now holding bloodied knives: :3 teehee

<><><><><><>

Mihawk: stop calling me transphobic, I just told you to brush your teeth before I kissed you.

Crocodile, incredibly, blackout, shitfaced drunk: sad reptile sounds

Buggy, across the room, removing her makeup: I dunno, Hawky, sounds pretty transphobic to me~

Mihawk: I'm going to kill everyone in this room and then myself.

<><><><><><>

Buggy: I identify as a THREAT.

Croc, patting his lap without looking up, settling his hook around Buggy's waist when he settles on his lap obediently, smirks: a threat to my peace, absolutely.

<><><><><><>

Buggy: sometimes I wish I was a big tittied goth girlfriend, you know?

Mihawk, holding the remains of his garden sheers that he just crushed bare handed: do you ever think before you speak

Buggy: no why

<><><><><><>

Iva: you want me to what

Buggy: put the gender juice in the jars so I can take em like shots.

Iva:

Buggy:

Iva: genius idea, darling, I like your style

<><><><><><><>

Rouge: Buggy, sweetie, quick question.

Buggy: what's up, mama?

Rouge, hand on her swollen belly: do you wanna be Buggy-nii, Buggy-nee, or something else?

Buggy:

Rouge:

Buggy:

Rouge: oh don't cry-

[scarfacemarston]

Hi! I saw your requests were open and wanted to put one in!

Can I get a FATWS era Bucky x Gender Neutral/Nonbinary Reader where they're in the bath? Nothing smutty just Bucky, in the tub, getting his hair and body washed by the person he loves, who's giving him little kisses as they clean him up. Then maybe once he's all cleaned up maybe they go lay down in bed and cuddle, with Reader playing with his hair until Bucky falls asleep?

Thank you! 💜

I hope you like it!

You knew the moment you saw Bucky lumber into the threshold, locking the door behind him that it had been a doozy of a day. It was now 8:00 pm.  You knew better than to ask what happened. It was often Avenger's business that the two of you agreed shouldn't be discussed. It made you worry and wonder, but sometimes, knowing was worse. You knew he struggled enough without you smothering him, but he knew you loved him, and that's what mattered.

Bucky's shoulders slumped as he dropped his bag half haphazardly on the floor before plopping down on the couch with a sigh. You shook your head as you eyed the bruises forming on his cheek and neck, and you knew there were plenty more that you couldn't see. 

You slowly approached him, running a light hand through his hair, and kissing his forehead. He turned to you with a tired smile as he pressed your lips to yours. You pulled away, gently pressing a hand to his chest.

"Come on, let's get you a bath. You'll feel much better. We can get your favorite takeout tonight," you promised as you led him into the bathroom, Bucky reluctantly following. 

You turned the taps on to a steaming hot temperature—hotter than you liked, but something Bucky adored. You chalk that up to him being in Cyro for so long and craving that warmth. You poured some Epsom salts and lavender oil into the bath. 

Bucky couldn't help but grin. Some insecure people might have called it feminine, but what did either of you care? It smelled and felt great, and that's what mattered. You appreciated Bucky's shift to a more gender-neutral mindset, as he also supported your identity as a gender-neutral person. It was something that surprised you from the over 100-year-old man.

"Clothes off, sweetheart. I'll look away" you promised as you heard the drop of his shoes, the clink of his belt, and the rustle of clothing drop to the ground. Usually, the sight and the sounds of his undressing filled you with excitement, but it wasn't about you. Not now. It was all him.

You heard Bucky sigh as he sank into the water. You turned to see he had closed his eyes. You shook your head fondly, opening the shampoo bottle. "I'm going to wash your hair now." You explained. He rolled his eyes.

"I'm more than capable, darlin'."

"I know, but sometimes, having someone else take care of it for you is nice. " You countered.

He quit his grumblings as soon as your fingers began to work their magic, causing him to sink lower into the water with a moan. You leaned over and kissed his temple, causing him to crinkle his nose. 

Bucky opened an eye, cupping your cheek, leaning to press another kiss upon your lips…and another, this time deeper. You had to stop yourself from slipping into the water as he deepened it, a low rumble coming from his chest. You pulled away with a laugh.

"No, not right now. I gotta rinse your hair out!" you said, gently slapping his human arm. Bucky pouted as you took a washcloth, wetting it into the water and squirting his body wash onto the rag. 

You inhaled, taking in his scent—woodsy with an almost mint note—something uniquely him.

You began with his neck, allowing the hot water to run down, before moving to his arms, careful of his scarred shoulder. You peppered small kisses along his neck and leaving a few for his shouler.

You grinned as you reached his toned chest, soapy hands using the cloth to massage the muscle. You looked over to see Bucky grinning at you cheekily.

"Like what you see, gorgeous?" he said with a wink.

"More than you know, " you muttered as you kissed him tenderly. The cloth reached his stomach, and Bucky's breath hitched.

He gave you a pleading look as your hands reached further.

"Maybe later, handsome." You grinned as you ghosted your hands over his thighs.

"Well that's just cruel!" He said with a groan. You knew if you teased him any further where this would lead. The two of you would have your fun…..after he ate and rested.

You cupped the water into your hands, rinsing Bucky off. 

"What service". He muttered. 

You were pleasantly surprised to see him in a lighter mood than you thought he would be in. A bath really could do wonders. 

You gave his cheek a kiss, standing up.

"I'll order our food now. You just relax," you said, running a hand through his hair.

He grabbed your hand before you could leave.

"Thank you, y/n. I mean it. You always know just what I need." he said tenderly, kissing your knuckles. You blushed. You were always the most flustered when he was sincere. 

"You're more than welcome." You said with a grin as you turned to leave, you last heard Bucky's pleased sigh as he sank into the water again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of you ate in relative silence, for most it would be uncomfortable, but you appreciated that you could just bask in each other’s company in the relationship. Bucky was not a talkative person so it was a relief when he realized you were comfortable with the quiet. It put so much less pressure on him. Bucky grumbled as he yawned once again. “It’s only 9 pm”. He said, annoyed under his breath. “And how many days have you gone without sleep this time?” You countered. “I’ve been sleeping! A bit. Six hours.” He countered back. “ I know for a fact that’s not a night.” you said, shaking your head. “Fine, it was for the whole trip, but it was only three days this time!” he defended. “Let’s go, bedtime for the old man.” you said clearing the plates away, placing them in the sink. You heard him grumble as he went into your shared bedroom. He had already pulled back the covers when you entered. You smiled softly as you grabbed your pajamas, entering the bathroom for your nighttime routine. Bucky was already half asleep when you entered the bed. Almost immediately, his arms wrapped around your middle as he placed his head on your shoulder. You began to stroke your fingers through his soft, now dry hair. Bucky sighed happily as you carded your fingers through his locks. Normally, he hated people messing with his hair, but with you? He’d make exceptions. “Love you, Y/N” he muttered sleepily. You squeezed him tightly. “I love you, too, Bucky.” you whispered. With that, Bucky slipped into a well-deserved, blessedly nightmare-free rest.

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1 ⛤ Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤ Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, fluff, friends to lovers. This is probably gonna end in smut.

⛤Words: 1.4k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old highschool crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. Special thanks to @hellfiremunsonn, I am a wreck without her, lol. This chapter is a little short. We are doing a slow burn, ladies , gentleman and nonbinary friends. Next Chapter will have Eddie in it I promise! Please check out Chapter one before you start this one. Thank you!

⛤Chapter 2: Pulling Strings You walk into work early and meet up with your manager. You explain that you need a week off to visit family in Hawkins. They calculate your vacation time and approve it, it's official! In two weeks you're going back to your childhood hometown. You asked a couple of coworkers to help cover your shift and got lucky, they both agreed they could use the extra hours. It was the longest two weeks that you've ever experienced. You passed the time with some shopping for your trip. You made sure to get all the essentials, and a couple of new cute outfits to bring too. You visited your mom and told her all about your plans, she's excited for you! She even sent you off with a little extra money, just in case.

Everything appears to be falling into place. The anticipation is killing you. But you start to find yourself thinking about Eddie quite often. You thought about his dark brown eyes, and how shockingly cute he was when he smiled. Back when things got difficult with your family, Eddie was always down for some late-night talks, listening to you vent for hours sometimes.

The night before you left, you spent time packing, calling Steve, and confirming some minor details. You took a shower before bed and watched some late night TV. When you finally decide to turn in, you crawl under the comforter and try your best to get some rest. Even if you still feel a huge pit in your stomach.

—--------------

You're beginning to think you should have packed lighter as you hauled your bags down to the car. You load everything into the trunk and settle into the driver's seat. You take a deep breath and start the car, the engine roars and you hit the gas. There's no next time, it's now or never. Time to take a leap of faith and do your best to be a better friend. You might not get another chance. The sun shines through your windshield as you turn the bend, the fresh Indiana air is crisp and clean. As you see the “Welcome to Hawkins” sign, your body starts to tense up. You try to recall the directions Steve gave you in the correct order. You turned onto main street and kept on until you saw the blue apartments named “Hawkin’s Heights”. You pulled into the parking lot and backed into a parking space carefully and cut the engine. 

It took you what felt like forever to get out of the car. But after a few deep breaths and some time to mentally hype yourself up, you are ready. You walk upstairs and follow the numbers until you find apartment 106. You knock on the door and it instantly opens.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you made it!” Steve looks completely thrilled to see you. He scoops you up into a hug and pulls you inside the apartment, shutting the door behind you.

“Hi Stevie” You laughed “It’s so nice to see you!” Steve finally lets go and you recognize the other familiar face in the room. It was none other than Dustin Henderson.

“Oh my god, Dustin?! You’re like…all grown up!” You can't believe how mature he looks now. You give him a massive hug, he's taller than you now. Time sure does fly, kids sure do grow up fast. The boys head downstairs to help you lug your bags inside, thank goodness you didn't have to do that alone.

Once you get inside you notice the boys are taking your stuff down the hall, and you follow them. Once you walk through the threshold you immediately know whose room this is.

“You’ll be staying in Eddie's room. He comes back from tour in two days so you’ll see him then. I’m sure he won’t mind at all.” Steve explains so casually like it's no big deal.

“Oh god, I couldn’t just take his room. I would feel so bad. What if I take the couch?” You ask with a nervous laugh.

“Can’t, Dustin is on the couch. His mom went on this singles cruise. Even now I’m still somehow babysitting.” Steve laughs and Dustin scoffs at him. Your face turns a little red at the thought of sleeping in your high school crush’s bed.

“Don't listen to him, Y/N, my mom is just paranoid.” Dustin retorts as he follows Steve to the kitchen.

They both leave you to order some pizza and give you time to settle in. The room is truthfully very clean, there are Metal posters all over the walls, along with flyers from shows he’s played. He has some Christmas lights hanging for some ambiance. You take a seat on his queen-sized bed, it feels really comfy. The back comforter and black pillow cases were so him. There are guitars hanging on the wall, a couple of guitar stands, and amps off to the side.

I guess it can't be helped. You'll have to deal with it for now, maybe you can crash at Robin’s later. You shut the door and find yourself some lounge clothes to wear, settling on a pair of shorts and a large Metallica t-shirt. After brushing out your hair and setting out some clothes for tomorrow, you decide to join the boys in the kitchen.

“We got two large pepperoni pizzas,” Dustin announces, Steve opens two beers and offers you one. You gladly take it and grin as you see the label.

“Did you buy my favorite beer on purpose?” You ask, poking fun at how much of an accommodating host Steve can be. When the pizza arrives you all settle down in the living room and watch some late-night sitcom. Steve tells you all about the lengths he's gone to get everyone to gather here.

Nancy is coming to visit with Johnathan, they are staying with her parents. Robin has no idea you were here, Steve had to come up with some ridiculous excuse for her not to show up today. Eddie called to tell him when he would be returning in a couple of days and Steve had to play it cool like nothing was going on. He told them we were throwing a get-together at the Hideout but didn't mention you in the slightest.

“Wow…Look at you pulling all the strings.” You clapped softly and Steve took a little bow. You were truly impressed with his ability to put all of this together. “Thank you, Steve. This is so cool of you.”

“It was nothin’ really. You called and I had to make it happen.” He shrugs with a half smile. You hug your friend and decide to excuse yourself. You had a long drive and it was exhausting. You walk back to Eddie’s room to turn in for the night. When you look over at the nightstand you see a pack of cigarettes, half empty. Eddie used to bum you cigs when you hung out at his trailer. You flash back to the time your Dad was drunk and acting out, arguing with your mom. You ran off to Eddie’s place and your mom almost called the cops.

You grabbed one out of the pack and used the lighter next to the ashtray. You opened up a window and placed the cigarette between your lips and lit it. The taste was like shaking hands with an old friend. It was smooth and you almost feel bad for breaking your 3 year streak but also, one won't hurt…probably. That same nostalgic feeling you felt opening those boxes came flooding back in.

We were just teenagers, there were so many signs that he was head over heels for you but you were naive, oblivious, and it hurt you a little. Neither of you had the guts to say anything to each other. A regret that made you feel shameful to say the least. You’ve wondered if he still has feelings for you or is he off having the time of his life with his groupie fangirls?

When you try to define this feeling it's next to impossible, you feel a sense of anticipation. It's like you’re eager to relive some feelings, or longing for a simpler time. You take a few drags and try to wave the smoke and your insecurities out the window. You can't wait to see Robin tomorrow. It's time to get some sleep, you have a feeling you won't be getting much for the rest of the week.

You put out your cigarette and shut the window, turn out the light, and finally crawl under the covers. You have to admit, his bed smells really good, like fresh linen and men's cologne. It made you feel especially comfortable, and it didn't take long to ease into a deep slumber. You could get used to this kind of contentment. 

[ingravinoveritas]

After seeing all those stories of Georgia going shopping with David (I'm honestly surprised that David knows how to drive, I don't know why), I think David is fed up with so much video.

@electronic-chocolate @victorianlonging Okay, so...I have indeed seen all of the stories that are referenced here, and I think a couple of things can be true at the same time. But let's first get the visual up for anyone who hasn't seen it (all in one video, for ease of viewing):

The first thought that I had is how reminiscent this was of what we've seen recently, with Georgia filming David when he seemingly really doesn't want to be filmed (such as at that festival last month).

What also came to mind is something I think at least several of us thought of (if my DMs are any indication), which is that David is clearly, visibly annoyed. There's no real way to not notice it, with him looking incredulous in the car (though I did laugh when he said "I'm not dressed for this," given how adorable he looked without even realizing it), and then when she sets the tone by immediately using the word "content." There's no question that that's what the objective of this was: To have content of/with David that Georgia could post to garner attention.

Once they're in the store, we see him balling up the shopping bags in his hands, which to me came across as a sign of anxiety. And given how non-confrontational we know David is, it's almost amazing to hear him respond to Georgia's "Say hi!" with an immediate "Nope." And the whole thing sort of becomes what you might call a self-narrating zoo exhibit (or "self-paparazzi," as I recently heard someone aptly describe it) where David is literally just trying to shop for groceries while Georgia is sticking a camera in his face.

We also notice that at one point, David is recognized by some fans and stops to take a picture with them, which when you think about it is likely a regular occurrence, since he has one of the most famous faces in the country. But because that is the case, you'd also think he would feel a sense of relief when those interactions are over and he no longer has to be "on"...until he goes back to Georgia and she is filming him. And as good-natured as David is, there's no doubt that it must get a little tiring after a while.

All that said--and in the interest of providing a balanced perspective--it is possible that David was playing things up, to an extent, and perhaps even exaggerating some of the annoyance that we saw. And there was something else about this that stood out to me, and that deserves discussion: His shoes...

Yes, David was wearing gay pride Doc Martens. GAY PRIDE BOOTS, ladies and gentlemen and those of other gender persuasions. And when we realize this is the case, everything about this vlog/series of stories starts to gets very interesting. Because while the shoes were by no means the focal point of the Insta stories, Georgia had to know that David's eagle-eyed fans would clock them right away. And clock them they did (and I also noticed this pair of Pride-themed Doc Martens, and would not be at all surprised to learn that David owns a pair of those as well).

Leaving aside the fact that no straight man on this Earth--no matter how strong an ally--would wear those boots (I mean...come on), I almost saw this as a callback/follow up to Georgia's story from a few months ago where she appeared to use "their" pronouns when talking about David (rather than he/him). Much discussion was had at the time of this being a way to "test the waters" for David to start being more open about his sexuality/identity, and this almost feels like a continuation of that.

Having heard from queer followers of mine who are not fully out to their families/friends, it seems that it is not uncommon for folks in that position to wear things to drop little "hints" around people they are not ready to disclose to yet. And when you think about the number of "hints" from the last few months--the nonbinary pin, the pronoun Insta story, David getting emotional talking about Pride Month on that podcast, and now these new Insta stories wearing those boots--it makes you wonder if it's all building toward something.

Whatever the case may be, it's still difficult to overlook how uncomfortable David looked at times in those videos today--even if he was playing things up. For my part, I would genuinely rather never have Georgia post anything about David again than see him in her posts knowing that he is uncomfortable with it. I also agree that her hunger for content seems to be increasing, but I would also like to hope that if David did seriously ask Georgia to stop filming--for any reasons--that she would do so.

So I suppose we'll have to see what (if anything) this all leads to, and what will happen if/when she films him again. Happy as always to hear others' thoughts in the comments...

[pokeblader3]

Honestly I want any anti-Huntlow person at this point who says the couple has no appeal or thematic value and is just a generic hetero ship with the attractive male love interest to look my disabled ass squarely in the eye (looking down, with your ability to stand.) and tell me that people who look like Hunter are considered "conventionally attractive", and that I've not gone to disability and autism support groups filled with people with face/body scarring and disfigurings that severe (often tied to disabilities),

and conditions that will never get better that had literally no friends outside the support groups because y'all treated them like freaks for having a misformed lip or not having full upright-ness of their body (I have a feeling Hunter's eye bags might never go away, like I feel the 24-hour eye bags I have had in real life for several years might never go away),

and that the choice to portray a love story between a disfigured, fundamentally different person in love with a healthy plus sized Asian girl who was bullied and given severe mental issues and now finds strength in his reassurance and literal help as one of the people who helps stabilize her so she can be a badass.... is conventional and what cishet white audiences want lmao.

We have 3 bisexual female characters, the two leads are given female and nonbinary love interests with more screentime, and the m/f bisexual couple is late-series and with a gender dynamic of a strong woman who fights to protect her friends and domestic-violence survivor partner, who now is being characterized primarily by his desire to be soft and domestic (sewing? gardening? wanting to just be seen as a human?) isn't still groundbreaking? There literally is no way it could be more fair and appealing of a concept to you.

Like. I'm starting to think maybe some of y'all have bad reasons for being vocally against the ship which is full of people who just want to be positive and left to themselves (and have much of the crew on their side as fans). Maybe if a ship like this is being put in your gay show, it's just as groundbreaking for different reasons you don't see.

Some of us cripples (including us queers) have partners who Hunter and Willow remind us of (especially with the amount of transgender grimwalker Hunter interpretations I've seen or fan concepts where Willow eventually starts using her plant magic to help stabilize Hunter's body in older age from Grimwalker decay as a partial root being), mostly people just like you, just more open-minded and willing to see us (and literally hear us, if you've seen none of this, somehow, yet) as people.

And I don't just speak for myself, I have a plus sized South Asian bisexual girl friend who says Hunter and Willow's gender dynamic was one of the few times she ever saw herself in television and loves it equally as me.

[mxstly-melancholy]

Hii! I saw youre taking requests for The Ghoul from Fallout! I wanted to ask if you could write something with him and a nonbinary reader. Something soft maybe? Comforting a stressed reader or helping them wind down from stress.

(University has been kicking my ass,Lol)

Thank you in advance!

Aww yes! Here you go! Best of luck in uni <3 (sorry it’s kinda short this was my first time writing for him!)

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Reader Comfort

Warnings: none!

It was late one night, they were both tiredly sitting around a makeshift fire after a long day of walking and being attacked at random moments.You sat quietly next to him, snacking on whatever you had in your bag.

Cooper noticed your silence and was confused by it, as you usually talk around this time to him about whatever is on your mind. “Aye, What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?” He spoke quietly, looking over at you. You shrug, avoiding eye contact. “Now we both know that ain’t an answer.” He shifts closer to you. You sigh, “I’m just stressed and worried about the future. Just scared..Nothing new, really..” He puts his arm around you, pulling you in close to him. “Well, I ain’t the best at advice or helpin’, but one thing I do know is as long as you’re by me, you ain’t got nothin’ to worry about. Alright?” He plants a soft kiss to your forehead, earning a smile from you. “Thank you, really.. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He scoffs, “Shit, you probably woulda’ been dead by now.” He jokes, smiling as he listens to you giggle.

At least he can say he successfully got a smile and a giggle out of you that night.

[phoxey]

Is this what you dreamed about?

Professor!Bada x student!reader

CW: SMUT (18+) MDNI... porn without real plot, Dom!Bada, Sub!reader, fingering, choking, age gap, Dirty talk

AN: please enjoy this little treat to celebrate the end of 2023 ;) Happy new year guys and gals and nonbinary pals

From the moment you walked into that class on the first day of Uni, there was only one woman who occupied your mind. Bada Lee, your criminal history professor, a tall and intimidating woman. But she intrigued you, the way she smiled or looked at you sometimes, made your heart flutter. Your friends always teased you, saying that Professor Lee had a thing for you, which was why she always gave you good marks on all of your assignments.

That was until you got an Email one morning.

Dear Y/N, I attached your grade for your latest assignment to this Email. I am disappointed. Come to my office after your last class today. Best regards, B. Lee

Confused you clicked on the attached file, which summarized and explained the points that were given to you this assignment. You audibly gasped when you saw the total points. It was a failing grade! Impossible. You have never failed in one of your classes. Especially not hers.

After your last class, which ended late, you debated whether it was already too late to go to your professor. Also, you were nervous about what she was going to say. Until you stood in front of her office door, you still debated with yourself, but inside you saw light burning. It would be weird if you ran away now, so you dared to softly knock on her door.

“Come in.”

Shyly you walked inside and closed the door behind you. Only her desk light was burning in the otherwise dark room. When she looked up from her computer, she took off her glasses and set them aside. With a wave of her hand, she told you to sit, which you did, putting your jacket and bag down.

“How was your day?”, she asked.

“I was worried and scared because of your E-Mail, Professor Lee.”, you answered honestly.

She nodded. “Then let’s get to it. I must say I was very surprised and disappointed… usually you are better than that. But in the last few weeks…”

“I am a bit distracted…”, you admitted blushing.

“Say, what distracts you?”, she asked, her eyes piercing you.

“You.”, slipped past your lips and immediately your hand covered your mouth. Your ears felt so hot, they might as well be on fire.

Your teacher leaned back in her chair and smirked. “Really?”

“I am so sorry, Professor Lee, I didn’t mean to say that!”, you immediately rambled.

“But you really think that, do you?”, she asked.

“I… Professor Lee… I’m sorry, this was so inappropriate… I shouldn’t have…”

“You are not denying it.”

Your mouth shut and with your red face you looked down in embarrassment. You couldn’t deny what was true. That woman occupied your mind every day… and every night. It was simply not fair for her to be this attractive.

You didn’t even notice that she stood up, until two fingers lifted your chin and guided you to look at her. She met you with an indescribable expression. Dangerously dark eyes but a playful smile on her lips.

“You admit that you are distracted because you can’t stop looking at me?”, she asked.

You wanted to look away again, but she grabbed your chin between her index finger and thumb. The latter almost touching your bottom lip. She was so close; you could even smell her perfume. And lord, her scent was enticing.

“How about you answer this question and I promise to let you rewrite your assignment?”

As if your gaze filled with desire wasn’t enough of an answer. No, Bada Lee wanted to hear your pretty voice admitting that you fantasized about her.

Slowly you nodded. “I can’t stop looking at you.”

“Why?”, she whispered, her eyes falling to your lips, as her thumb pressed onto your bottom lip, making you open your mouth ever so slightly.

“Because… I find you attractive, Professor.”, you breathed out. You were almost in a trance, lost in her eyes and the feeling that stirred within you, the closer her face got.

“When you look at me, what comes to mind?”, she asked softly.

“Professor… I can’t…”

“Answer me.”

You swallowed hard and you could feel your lips tingle, hers were only inches away. “Your lips.”

A shockwave went through your body as you suddenly felt her lips on yours. Your mouth moved on its own and you kissed her almost desperately. A whine left your throat, when the kiss was over faster than you wanted.

“Like that?”, she asked.

Your eyes fluttered open. “I must be dreaming…”

“Oh sweetheart, this is so very real. If you’re good and tell me what your pretty head has been dreaming about, I just might be so kind to make it reality…”, she whispered and put some hair behind your ear.

“More… Your lips… everywhere. Your hands too.”, you admitted shyly.

She pulled you to stand and immediately into her embrace as her mouth crashed onto yours. She even seized the opportunity when you gasped, to slip her tongue past your wet lips, deepening the kiss. Your hands rested on her chest as hers roamed over your hips and back. A moan escaped when she moved south to kiss your neck.

“Have you dreamed about this too?”, she whispered against your skin and you could feel her smirk.

Eagerly you nodded, which caused her to chuckle.

“May I leave my mark?”, she asked gently, as her hands slipped under your shirt.

“I have dreamed about that too…”

As soon as you gave your permission she began working on a rather sensitive spot of your neck. She sucked right over where she could feel your pulse. Teasingly she bit into your skin only to apologize by licking over her mark. Bada leaned back to admire her work, but she was caught off guard by your look. Eyes half closed and unfocused, your lips deep red and kiss swollen. She almost lost her mind then and there when your tongue poked out to catch a drop of spit from falling from your lips.

She cupped your chin again to hold you while she savored a slow but deep kiss. Emboldened by her hungry gaze and your own lust, you took her hand and placed it a little further south, around your throat. She smirked down at you as she helped you sit on her desk. Her hand was just around your neck, she wasn’t applying any pressure at all, no matter how much you hinted that you wanted it.

It was only when she pulled you into another kiss by your throat, you got what you wanted. The pressure making you lightheaded, so that you couldn’t even form a coherent thought anymore. Her other hand ghosted up and down your thigh, sending shivers that went right into your clit, when she was only remotely close to slipping her hand under your skirt. Your hips rolled forward over and over in an unsuccessful attempt of creating friction. She noticed and her evil chuckle was swallowed by the kiss you shared.

“Please…”, you managed to get out.

“Beg for it.”, Bada smirked and bit your lower lip.

“Please… I need you to touch me.”, you really gave your best to get the words out. In response her hand left your throat and cupped your breast. You whined, that was not the touch you had wanted.

“Patience is a virtue, sweetheart.”, she muttered into your ear and kissed your temple, before her other hand came up and her long slender middle finger pushed past your lips. It was almost pathetic how obediently you started sucking on her finger and swirled your tongue around it.

“You dreamed about me being knuckledeep in your pretty cunt, hm?”, she asked then.

Again you eagerly nodded and she pulled her finger out of your mouth. You watched curiously as she pushed your skirt up and your panties to the side. At first her slick finger rubbed your throbbing clit ever so slightly. Bada took a mental note, that prepping her finger with spit wouldn’t have been needed, not when you were dripping wet like that. Her finger slipped into you almost too easily, and you exhaled a soft moan. Bada captured your lips in another kiss.

“So warm, so wet…”, she whispered. “So perfect.”

You moaned. You didn’t even know if it was because of her praise or her finger that was thrusting deep into you. Maybe it was a bit of both.

Your breath hitched when she added another finger, as she decided that you were not moaning enough. She wanted to hear your beautiful voice when you would come undone on her fingers. And it worked perfectly. Your breaths got quicker and your moans louder, just how she wanted it. She grinned self-sufficiently against your neck as she worked on another hickey. Curse words left your lips when she started to curl her two fingers within you and you grasped her shoulders, holding on for dear life, as she toyed with the most sensitive spot that existed within your body.

The tingly sensation in your legs and the knot in your stomach announced the bliss that was approaching slowly. That was until you felt her thumb on your clit, while her other fingers pressed against your G-Spot. An overwhelming orgasm washed through you and a silent scream got stuck in your throat. You clawed into her shoulder and buried your face in her neck, as she helped you ride your high and dragging it out as much as possible until you were pulling away with overstimulation.

Gently she pulled her fingers out and she stepped back to look at her work. You pussy clenching around the phantom feeling of her fingers that still lingered. You sat there, on her desk, panting and your eyes were still delirious. Your skirt was still pushed up and your hair stuck to your face with sweat, while a few tears rolled down your face after the overstimulation.

“Is this what you dreamed about?”, she smirked and put her two fingers into her own mouth.

[rorywritesjunk]

There is no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Crocodile brings on a former assistant to manage Buggy and his workload. Buggy realizes he likes it when Taron praises him for the littlest things.

Rating: PG-13 to start. Chapters will be rated depending on content. Warning: Slow burn. AFAB nonbinary character. Buggy is touch starved and a virgin who thrives on praise. He's also a bit of a mess because he's thinking he's going to finally be killed by Crocodile. Set with the Cross Guild but won't be a poly fic (as much as I love that unf). However, mentions of past/somewhat present TaronxCrocodile stuff. Also Buggy is bratty, whining, a little pathetic. He doesn't want to do anything. Word Count: 1.8k A/N: My self indulgent submissive Buggy fic. This came from another fic I wrote for another fandom that I never posted but it was pure self indulgent. I decided to do it with the clown and change it up. Originally thought of making this a dom!Buggy fic but after a poll and how I started writing it, I decided to stick with sub!Buggy.

Title comes from "Take Me To Church" by Hozier.

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7

Chapter 1

Taron stood in front of the entrance to the large circus tent. This was where they were instructed to go after being informed of their new job from their former employer who sought them out. Sir Crocodile appreciated how Taron kept things in line with his casino, managing schedules, appointments, and other things he was too busy to deal with at the time. After several meetings between Mihawk and Buggy, where he saw the latter was refusing to do his share of paperwork, forgot about meetings or showed up late, and every other little thing that came with this role, Crocodile made the decision for Buggy in getting him an assistant.

With his connections, Crocodile made contact with his former assistant, requesting their presence on the island for a new job, which Taron was delighted to have. They enjoyed their time working with him before and were pleased they had the opportunity again, but when they arrived with their bag in hand, ready to work with Crocodile again, they were confused when they were instructed on where they needed to go.

Once they arrived at the tent, standing in front of it as they wondered if they could just return to their old job, they decided to take the challenge. Crocodile said this individual was difficult, that he mismanaged paperwork, missed important meetings, the likes, and that Taron was brought in to put Buggy on the right track. 

They survived working with Crocodile so there was no doubt they could survive this Buggy the Clown. 

Crocodile gave Taron instructions on what was needed as well as permission to enter Buggy’s tent to find him. With a flyer in their hand they knew who to look for: a clown with blue hair and a red nose. Shouldn't be too hard. So they entered the tent, noticing this was an actual circus with a lion, performers, everything, but no Buggy in sight. 

They went looking, ignoring the stares, whispers, and pointing in their direction as they went to find his room. They were told he was lazy, that he may be still in bed, so as they walked around, they found what they figured to be his room, another area in the massive tent with walls and curtains for a door. Not knowing how to properly knock, they let themselves in.

The bed in the middle was fairly large, though smaller than Crocodile’s. The lump on one side of the bed had to be Buggy, so Taron set their bag down and went over to it, giving him a shake.

“Captain Buggy?”

Nothing, he kept snoring. Taron gave him a few more shakes, increasing the force each time. When that didn't work, they yanked the blanket off only to throw it back on.

“What kind of pirate sleeps naked?” They muttered before giving the mattress a kick and shouting, “Captain Buggy, the Marines are here, wake up!”

That seemed to do it. He jumped up, blankets falling off and exposing himself as he stood up on the bed, eyes wide with fear as he turned his head frantically for the threat. “Where?!”

Taron pushed their glasses back up their face before putting their hands on their hips, looking up at him. Buggy blinked sleepily down at them and frowned.

“Who are you?”

“Your new assistant.”

“My new- I didn't hire you!”

“No, Sir Crocodile did.” They informed him as Buggy dropped to his knees on the bed, looking at them with a frown. “He feels you need help managing your schedule and paperwork so he brought me on to help you.”

“Why did he decide that without me?!” Buggy demanded, looking them over. Taron wasn't dressed flashy enough to work for Buggy. Their dress was too similar to Crocodile’s, from the cravat to the shoes. They looked like someone who Buggy would end up owing money to and having his knees broken for not paying them back. They were shorter than Buggy, wider as well, looking like it would take a lot to knock them over. They wore glasses, their brown eyes looking at him through thick frames. Long hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, keeping it out of their face as they looked at him.

“Because he wants to be sure the person could get the job done.” Taron replied as they crossed their arms. “You're still naked.” They went over to what they assumed to be his wardrobe and opened it, looking for something for him to wear. “I worked with him for ten years so he knows I can handle anything.”

They reached into the wardrobe, pulling out a shirt and pants for him. They didn't care what he wore as long as he was dressed, but when they turned and saw him sitting on his bed, blanket over his lap as he looked at them sulkily, maybe it wasn't the right outfit.

“I'm not wearing that.” Buggy said with a glare. “Those two don't go well together.”

Taron shrugged. “I don't care what you wear, but you have a meeting in ten minutes with Mihawk and Crocodile, so I suggest you put something on for it.” They looked back at the clothing options before looking at Buggy with a grim expression on their face. “They explicitly said for you to not be late to this one.”

“Ten minutes?!” 

“It was fifteen but we wasted five minutes.” Taron told him as Buggy snatched the clothes from them and hastily put them on. They found his hair brush and handed it to him. While he wrestled with bedhead they retrieved his bandana and hat. “This should help.”

“I’m dead if I’m late again.” Buggy grumbled as he put his hair up before tying the bandana on to keep it all in place. He glared over at Taron as he grabbed his hat. “Not that I care, but what’s your name, you pest? Coming in here and waking me up late for my meeting, I should fire you for that!”

Taron looked amused by the empty threat. “My name is Taron and you don’t have the authority to fire me, only Crocodile.”

“I’ll take this up with him then!” Buggy snapped as he headed out of his room with Taron following after them. The two of them made it out of the tent before Buggy stopped and turned around. “Stop following me!”

“I’ve been instructed to make sure you make it to the meeting.” Taron told him. Buggy glared at them before he started walking again, grumbling under his breath about annoying assistants and other unkind things. Taron wasn’t bothered in the slightest by his petulant behavior. Their previous employer was a politician who didn’t know what he was even doing in his role so Taron did all of the work while he was just the face of the office. Once they reconnected with Crocodile and were told the job expectations, Taron realized they would be doing the same job again, but Crocodile would deal with the clown if he got out of hand. 

“I don’t need an escort!”

“Mm, I don’t care.” Taron said as they followed behind. “We’re almost there.”

Buggy turned his head to glare at them once again while his body kept stomping along. Taron didn’t flinch at his Devil Fruit powers. They had seen plenty while working with Baroque Works. 

They made it all the way to the meeting room where Crocodile and Mihawk were already seated. Buggy stomped over to his seat and sat down, still glaring at Taron for how his day was already going. They said nothing as they took a seat beside them, pulling a pen and notepad from their pocket. Crocodile glanced over at Buggy with a smirk.

“He’s early.” He said, cigar clenched between his teeth as he leaned back in his chair. “How did you manage that?”

“I informed Captain Buggy that the meeting was in ten minutes.” Taron told him as they clicked their pen. “It got him moving, which is what we needed.”

Buggy’s jaw dropped at being lied to as Crocodile chuckled and Mihawk looked over some papers. The meeting started without much fuss, just Buggy pouting in his seat while Taron took notes.

~

“I don't like you, Taron.” Buggy announced after the meeting. “You wake me up from my beauty sleep, lie to me, and then spend the meeting interrupting my thoughts!” He turned to look at Crocodile. “Why did you hire them for me? They're terrible!”

“They’re less likely to kill you than me, clown.” Crocodile told him without looking up from a stack of papers. “You’ll do as they say, understand?”

“What?! They said they were my assistant!” Buggy complained as he pounded his fist on the table. “They’re supposed to listen to me then!”

“I listen to Sir Crocodile.” Taron said as they looked over their notes. “And I only interrupted your ‘thoughts’ because you were nodding off in the meeting.” They looked over at Buggy. “As for liking me, I’m not here for you to like me. I’m here to make sure you do your job, Captain Buggy.”

Buggy stared at them for a moment before looking pleadingly at Crocodile. He really didn’t want an assistant, especially one that previously worked for Crocodile. Who’s to say Taron wouldn’t threaten to kill him with every conversation, or actually follow through with it? He wanted to throw a fit over this, that at least he should get to choose, but Crocodile glanced at Buggy with a look in his eyes that scared the clown into sucking it up and nodding.

Just because he was agreeing now didn’t mean he would behave, however. 

~

Taron was given space in Buggy’s tent for a room. They put their things away before walking off with Crocodile, leaving Buggy and Mihawk behind as he continued pouting about the situation. If the two really thought he needed an assistant, they should have said something. He could have asked Alvida or someone, not have Crocodile 2.0 helping him out. Buggy had his eye on the assistant as they were in their new room, putting things away from their one bag. It was just some clothes, that was it, no personal items of any kind. It was a little odd to Buggy.

“I don’t trust’em.” He mumbled as he watched them leave. For all he knew, Taron was brought in to eventually assassinate him once Crocodile finally had enough of him. It was inevitable now. He wondered if he should have Cabaji start working on his obituary soon. 

He waited a few minutes before returning to the tent. Buggy wondered how much longer he had left to live.

[blackypanther9]

You’re a great friend – Alastor x Nonbinary!Reader

A/N: I think I did a bit more fluff than I wanted, but hey ! It isn't short at least and I put in more than ONE category ! ^^' (Drawing belongs to rightful owner)

WARNING!: Nothing. A lot of fluff and a bit of angst, if you squint.

Words: 4 620

You worked for the Hazbin Hotel, because your best friend, Alastor, asked for your help. You had no soul contract with him, but you were close. Almost as close as he was with Rosie.

The first time you arrived at the Hazbin Hotel, everyone misgendered you. They all called you “She” and “Her”, because your body was feminine. Alastor was pretty triggered by it and then stepped in correcting them and announcing...

“It’s THEY and THEM. They use They/Them pronouns. And their name is Y/n.”

He had a protective arm around you when he did that and you couldn’t be happier. Charlie immediately apologized to you, as soon as your friend corrected everyone.

Of course...there was a time where Alastor misgendered you too. As you told him that you were Nonbinary, he gave you the cutest confused fawn look anyone ever saw before. He asked you stupidly what Nonbinary is and you explained to him that these are people that don’t identify themselves as Female and male, that don’t use the pronouns of he/him and she/her, but they use they/them.

It took him a while to use your correct pronounces, but he got the hang of it and corrected anyone, who misgendered you.

This day, you went shopping for food, for the Hotel. You were running low and it was one of your jobs to go shopping. Alastor waited for your return in the Lobby, to help you with the bags later on. He didn’t expect for you to come back with angry tears in your eyes however. He dropped his book and rushed to you.

“Dear ? What happened ? Why are you upset ?”, he fretted over you.

“Some jerks found it funny to call me a female all the time, even though I said that I am Nonbinary. They tried to...”, you mumbled the last bit.

“They tried to what, Y/n ? Tell me what these swines tried to do.”, he demanded.

“They tried to rape me !”, you shouted at him.

He froze up and his antlers grew bigger.

“They tried to what ?”, he asked dangerously calm.

“You heard me, Al !”, you yelled back, looking away from him.

“Describe them to me, now.”, he said as he hugged you and took the bags from you, teleporting them to the kitchen, sending his shadows after them to store everything away.

You described the demons and he was out of your sight the second he had all information and gave you a giant bowl of your favorite comfort food. He told you to wait in the Lobby. You tearfully ate your comfort food as one of Alastor’s shadows brought one of your friend’s radios to you, active and running on Alastor’s channel.

“P-please ! We are so-sorry !”, one of your offenders’ voices was heard from the radio.

You put down your bowl of comfort food, looking at the radio in awe.

“A reminder to all in Pentagram City, to not touch, disgrace, disrespect what belongs to the RADIO DEMON ! I think you folks have forgotten your place !”, Alastor broadcasted.

The next few minutes to an hour were only screams, flesh tearing, bones cracking and Alastor’s psychotic cackles. You smiled brightly and finished your comfort food. As the broadcast was over you smiled at the radio.

“Hey Al ? Thank you for doing this. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyways and I thank you for that.”, you told the radio.

You had a sneaking suspicion that your friend could hear you over the radio, after all he was the Radio Demon. He practically controlled the airwaves. Then the radio clicked off and you looked at his shadow, that he left behind with you.

“Thank you, Red, for showing me this.” (I named the shadow Red, yes, yes. It doesn’t have a canon name)

It chirped gently and then took away the radio again. Not long later, Alastor appeared on the couch next to you again. He gave you a gentle smile.

“You are welcome, Dear.”, he said.

You smiled at him, happily.

“Can I have a hug, Al ?”, you asked him gently.

He opened his arms, inviting you in. You hugged him gently and gave a happy hum from you.

“Do you know that you are so huggable ?”

“How so, my Dear ?”, he asked a bit confused.

“You are warm, you smell comforting, your aura is calm and gentle, your clothes are a bit on the softer side and all of that makes you so comfy to hug. I like hugging you, my friend.”, you said with a big smile.

He hummed gently, his left ear twitching in slight happiness. He only let you and Rosie hug him. To hear that he is comfortable as a blanket from you, made him happy. His tail, hid under his overcoat, wagged gently.

“Hey...Al ?”

“What, Cher ?”

“Would you be opposed if we go to your bedroom and just cuddle for a bit ? I really need it. I feel touch starved today.”, you gently asked.

He was your best and closest friend. It wasn’t the first time you asked this of him, but you knew how he usually was with the whole touch affection thing. Usually you didn’t dare to bother him and went to Charlie for it, even though you didn’t like her affections all that much, you didn’t need to get all upsettie spaghetti for getting no affection at all. Still...you trusted Alastor more than anyone. He wouldn’t touch you anywhere you wouldn’t want him to. He respected your boundaries and the others...tend to forget that a lot.

“Hmm...Oh, alright ! But only for a little while ! I still have a few things to do, for the Hotel, after all !”

You smiled happily.

“You are the best, Al. Thank you.”

“Of course, Dear. Now close your eyes.”

You did as told, felt reality shift around you and when you opened your eyes again, you were in Alastor’s room, still in his embrace, on his bed. He snapped his fingers and you both were in comfortable clothes. Not night time clothes, but comfy clothes. Then he laid down and you followed him, snuggling into his side and chest, the top of your head under his chin.

He rubbed your back gently and let some jazz music play from his microphone. Some happy animal noises left you, telling him you are comfortable. Alastor chuckled and smiled brightly as he continued to hold you and rub your back. You may or may not also have drifted off a few times and Alastor may or may not have drifted off a few times with you too.

Small naps only though, only like....10 minutes....every 5 to 10 minutes.

“Hey Al ?”

“Hum ?”

“Can I brush your hair ?”

“Only if I can brush yours in return. Fair is fair, Dear.”

You nodded and he sat up slightly, summoning a brush and handed it to you. His hair was messy and his fluffy ears were no exception. You smiled gently and brushed his hair gently, which made him melt slightly and let out a static purr. You didn’t point it out, just let him soak in the affection.

As you were done with his hair, careful around his antlers, you got very curious and put the brush away. You carefully let your fingers scratch the base of his deer ears gently. He let out a small, fawn like, bleat in surprise.

“Don’t worry, Al I am just trying to get your ears to relax a bit, so I can smooth out the fur there. It’s messy and I think the brush would be too rough on them.”

You read about animal ears and they are mostly very sensitive, just like their tails. You NEVER pull on animal ears and tails.

“D-Dear...b-be ca-caref-ful !”, he got out with some bleats and hums.

He even pressed his head further into your hands. You smiled gently. A new method to spoil him at days he is stressed, has been found.

“Al...my good friend...could it be...that you like this ?”, you asked him and scratched JUST the right spots on the bases of his ears.

He keened gently, a loud and strong static purr left him too and he bleated gently. He melted and was putty in your hands.

“P...Perhaps so...”, he admitted with embarrassment.

“Don’t be ashamed of it, Al ! Do you have any idea how much I can spoil you with this, if you had a stressful day ? This is a great discovery.”, you said happily, your smile big and genuine.

Alastor had a soft blush dusting his cheeks and his smile was genuine and gentle.

“You really would want to spoil me with head pats ?”, he asked you gently.

“I would spoil you with everything I could give you, Al. You are my friend and I care a lot about you.”

“No strings attached ?”

“Alastor, if you would be in deep trouble about something, all you would have to do is tell me and ask for help and I would do anything I can to help you out of a tight spot, no deals, no strings attached and no favors to be owed.”

You carefully worked your fingers higher up his ears, smoothing out his fur on his ears gently, trying to not tickle them too much, so he didn’t have to flick them this way and that.

“Would you also never abuse my trust if I gave you my soul, with a contract ?”, he asked softly.

You stopped smoothing out his fur at that, shocked he asked that.

“Al, even if I would own your soul, I wouldn’t use it against you. You are a dear friend of mine. I would never use that against you. No matter what. But where did that even come from ?”, you asked and continued to smooth out his fur on his ears.

“It...It was just a thought, my Dear.”

“But why did it cross your mind so suddenly ?”

“It seems like you love to take care of me. You always make sure I am alright, the few times I didn’t feel all too swell, you helped me and took care of me. You always listen to me, when I let my frustrations out. You always offer comfort towards me. You defend me when someone talks bad about me and I wasn’t present. You checked on my turf often, even though you aren’t an Overlord, you kept it in tact for me, while I was absent. You pulled strings here and there, just to get to places I couldn’t go to, to get me a few things that reminded me of my old life...my home. And you never asked for anything in return.”

You chuckled and scratched the base of his ears gently again, making him melt further in comfort.

“I asked for a thing, Alastor. That was to be your friend.”

“But you never asked for anything else. No power, no protection, no favors. You don’t even ask of me to cook for you. I love cooking, but even after you found out about it, you never asked me to cook you something.”

You chuckled again.

“Friends don’t demand for favors, Al, nor are they supposed to expect you to read them like an open book and give them what they want from you. That wouldn’t be friendship, it would be something that accomplices do. Friends....they are just there. Friends are supposed to be there for you, always available if you need it, say the word and in a zap they are there for you. Friends are people that see you for who you really are. They are there when you are in a moment of need. You saw me upset today, asked me what was wrong. That’s what friends do. Care for one another, without any strings attached. I told you what happened and you chose to cheer me up, even killed the assholes that ruined my day. I never asked of you to do that, you did that on your own. Friends do that. You were there when I needed you and I am here...when you need me.”

“Even if it is something as stupid as a...what did Charlie call it ? ....A sleepover ?”, he asked you.

You laughed and rubbed his left ear gently, affectionately. Another small bleat left the Radio Demon.

“If you need me for that, I will happily be there for you, Al. Even if it is just a sleepover. I will be there for you, even if you just need someone to read a good book with. I will be there, even if you just need someone to be angry at, to vent out your frustrations and rage. I am here to support you and comfort you. You will always be my friend.”

He tilted his head slightly, looking at his chair.

“What does ‘vent’ mean ? I doubt you mean the actual vents in the building.”, Alastor said confused.

You giggled and gently rubbed a sensitive spot on his ears that had him bleat comfortably and loudly again.

“‘Vent out your frustrations’ means to let some steam loose. That you need someone to talk to. The short term means vent. If you need to vent, you can come venting to me. It means you can talk to me about everything that is on your chest. Anything that pulls you down, something you don’t understand, when you are angry about the Vees again, when Charlie overworks you, all that and more. Whatever bothers you, you can talk to me and I won’t tell anyone, nor will I judge you. No strings attached and no deals to be made.”

You checked one last time if you had to smooth anything else out, as you switched with Alastor, you gave him the brush and he started to brush your hair gently.

“I...I think then I never had an actual friend ever before...You and Rosie are the only ones that are my actual friends...”, Alastor said carefully.

You started to frown.

“Not even when you were alive ?”

“No, no one. Most of them didn’t like me for...being a mixed breed. The ones that did tolerate me, just did so because I was famous and rich.”, he gently got out.

“Fame hungry and greedy people. Disgusting. I am surprised that you were mixed, Al. I always thought you were probably white with a tan on you, because you were often outside. After all, you told me that the walk from your home to the Radio Station was quite the journey.”, you chuckled out.

“Does...this change anything ?”, he asked, a slight bit of vulnerability in his voice.

“It doesn’t change anything, Al. The only things that changed is that I know now that you were mixed and that I now regret that I never got the chance to see your Human self.”, you sighed.

He stopped brushing your hair.

“Why would you regret not ever seeing it ?”

You gave a small chuckle.

“Alastor...I know I was born a bit after your time, but I was always fond of mixed people. I think they were pretty to look at. Like quite literally. Nothing sexual or anything, they just looked pretty. I was usually jealous. When they got freckles and had that certain mixed skin color, they were almost invisible.”, you chuckled out.

“Did...you have freckles ?”

“A few. Some you could barely see, but then there were some you saw clear as day and it annoyed me. I found them rather...ugly. Others found them cute, but I despised them.” (You choose what skin color ! I didn’t specify it, freckles always look different too, so no point in arguing !)

Alastor hummed in thoughts as he continued to brush your hair.

“But enough about that. Better back to the here and now. I am glad that you have friends now, at least. Believe me...true friends are very hard to find.”, you said softly.

“Experience, my Dear ?”

You gave a grim smile and he saw it from the mirror on his dresser in his room. He was concerned.

“Everyone had that one ‘friend’ at some point, I suppose. I knew that person from childhood to early teenage years. We always played together and all, but as the years went by...they became more and more...suspicious. In school were suddenly rumors about me spread that were never true, my other friends distanced themselves from me, I was getting bullied suddenly and no one helped me. My so called friends started to only use me and one day I found out that my childhood friend was the one who caused all of it. They lied right in my face, that they didn’t spread these rumors, until I caught them red handed.”

“What were the rumors about ?”

“Oh this and that. Nothing too important, Al. They said that I only used my friends, claimed I was a Transgender, even though I wasn’t, and claimed that I harmed myself if I didn’t get what I wanted, plus that I was suicidal and usually threatened her to kill myself if we don’t spend time together. That was never the case though. She made everyone believe that I was the plague reincarnated. Back then Transgender people were still heavily frowned upon, but honestly ? I was always a laid back person. As long as no one was trying to force me or tell me that I am a Trans, by a Trans person, I am fine with them. They do themselves and I do myself.”, you said shrugging your shoulders.

“That is rather disgusting of your past childhood friend. And...pardon my stupidity, but what is a Transgender ?”

“Meh, they got their Karma, Al. Transgenders are people that are born in the wrong body, to explain it simply. Like you see someone like me. A woman body. But they are not Nonbinary, they are Trans. The difference between Trans and Nonbinary is the pronouns. Nonbinary people use They/Them. Transgender people use the opposite gender they have openly displayed. You see a woman and they tell you they are not a woman but a man, that is when you know they are Transgenders. Same thing with a man that says they are a woman.”

“Oh...That actually is making my head hurt...”

“We haven’t even started to go into the world of Sexual Orientations, Alastor. There are Homosexuals, Transgenders, Genderfluids, Intersexes, Shemales, Heterosexuals, Nonbinaries-“

“Alright, alright, stop ! I don’t even know what most of these things mean ! What in the name of Hell is a SHEMALE ?! Genderfluid ?! What is that ?! What is an Intersex supposed to be ?!”, Alastor interrupted you and slightly freaked out.

You busted out in laughter. Alastor could already feel a migraine starting in his brain. Too much information at once.

“The only thing you should really look into for yourself would be Asexual and, most possibly, also Aromantic.”

“Why should these terms concern me ?”, he asked you confused.

“Because, Al, I think you are an AroAce. And AroAce means you are Asexual and Aromantic.”

“What gives you that impression, Dear ?”

“Al, I never saw you romantically interested in anyone, nor did I ever see hear from anyone that you ever slept with someone. Aromantic means you aren’t all that interested into romance and Asexual means like two different things. Either you are very repulsed by just the thought of Sex, or you are not repulsed by it, but you don’t really need it. Only if you have a partner that you care deeply about and needs it, you would try and help them out, these people I think were called Gray Asexuals. It seems to fit you perfectly until now.”, you shrugged.

“Doesn’t that mean that I am unable to have a relationship ?”

“Not at all. You can still have a relationship, but it will be a unique one. Sadly not many are into the unique ones. You really need to start to educate yourself, Al. I am doing your homework.”, you teased.

He finished brushing your hair and let the brush disappear.

“I never really bothered to try and find terms that described my sexual orientations. I just thought that either I never found the right one, or that I was a dysfunctional human in my society.”

“You weren’t dysfunctional, just different. And difference is what makes people special. Now you know what you could be. AroAce.”

“And you don’t have a problem with it ?”

“I will never have a problem with anything that makes you to you, Alastor. I like the Demon I got to know and be friends with. These small things don’t bother me, they just make you more and more unique. You are a rare gem in Hell, Al. At least to people like me.”

He looked at the crown of your head and smiled a big smile, appreciation in his eyes.

“Thank you, Cher, for accepting me the way I am.”

“Sure thing, Al. Now come on, let us cook something together, yeah ? Maybe some.... JAMBALAYA ?”, you said after a bit of suspense, to get him to really listen to you.

As soon as you mentioned his Mother’s most famous dish and his favorite dish too, he perked up happily and jumped up, you laughed and followed after him.

“You are in luck, my Dear ! I just so happened to suddenly be hungry ! You will love to eat my Mother’s recipe, you didn’t had it in AGES ! You poor thing must have forgotten the taste and delicious smell ! Hahaha ! That simply just won’t do !”, he babbled on and on.

You playfully rolled your eyes, a big smile on your face. You had Jambalaya like a week ago and he pretends like you didn’t have it in centuries. This man really was something, but you wouldn’t change him for the world.

You were both chopping up the ingredients, Alastor took off his Overcoat for that, dress shirt sleeves rolled up too, as you had the devilish idea to bully Alastor a bit. You grabbed a cup, filled it with water and, without your friend registering it quick enough, sprayed the water onto his dress shirt. He let out a surprised bleat and record screech too.

He looked at his wet spot with wide eyes, then to you. You had a smirk on your face and chuckled at how funny his reaction was until now.

“Oh...This means war, espèce de méchante petite creature (You evil little thing).”

Before you knew it, you were covered from head to toe in flour. Alastor cackled, while you pouted. You got some flour onto the palm of your hand and blew it onto Alastor’s pants. He went dead silent and cracked his neck towards you.

“How DARE you ruin my dress pants ?”, he said in offence, but it was obviously staged.

You grinned at him.

“Aww, is the big bad Radio Demon gonna cry, because I ruined his pants ?”, you playfully mocked.

Before you knew it, he tackled you and you slammed against the desk in the kitchen, then he started to tickle your sides and you started to laugh loudly.

“Revenge is sweet, Y/n, my Dear~”, he darkly purred out.

“St-stahahahahahap ! Ahahahahalahahahahstohohohor !”, you laughed out.

“What was that ? I think I couldn’t hear you~”

He continued to tickle you, until he saw that you couldn’t breathe anymore, then he stopped and put his forehead on yours. You let out a happy noise and rubbed your forehead against his gently, which made him let out a static purr.

Soon enough the both of you were cooking the Jambalaya together and you noticed that the flour was still open, you covered your hand in it, snuck up on Alastor and smacked his ass, leaving a white flour handprint on his pants. He jumped with a loud yelp and then turned to glare at you.

You just laughed and leaned on the table, after you felt like you could talk, you playfully mocked.

“That was for not stopping the tickles when I begged you to stop ! You deserved it. The revenge is MINE, Al !”

“You dirty little player ! You tricked me !”, he yelled in fake offence.

“At least your ass is sporting a beautiful new mark for everyone to see !”, you laughed out loudly.

“Cher, it wasn’t that hard to make it bruise.”, he teased.

You laughed louder. Boy he had no idea ! You couldn’t wait for someone to see the handprint on his pants !

As the food was almost finished, your friend sent you to the dining room, to sit down and wait for him to deliver the delicious Jambalaya. Angel and Charlie were also there, but they already had Dinner. As Alastor came in with his overcoat back on, Angel laughed loudly and Charlie gasped. You smirked and chuckled, while Alastor was thrown off by you, Charlie and Angel’s behavior, not knowing what was so funny.

“Hey...Al...?”

“Yes, Charlie, Dear ?”

“You...you have a white handprint on your pants, on your behind.”, she pointed out gently.

Angel busted out laughing, falling on the floor and rolling around in laughter. Alastor let in shock play a record screech, then he snapped his head to the perpetrator, you. You laughed loudly and wiggled your eyebrows at him.

“Told you your ass is now sporting a beautiful new mark, for everyone to see !”

“You little Devil ! I will have my revenge !”, your friend threatened you.

“I know you will have it, one day. Now let us eat, before the Jambalaya is cold. We didn’t make it for nothing, Al !”

He set your plate down and then his own next to you, sitting down.

“Can’t believe it, my favorite pants too...How disgraceful...”, he muttered under his breath.

You chuckled.

“Oh, calm down you big baby. It’s just flour. I will wash it out for you, to make up for it.”

“You better.”, he fired back at you.

You smiled at him and gave him a gently kiss on the cheek, which made him shut up and smile.

“I will, Al. Now let us eat, yes ?”

“Alright.”

“Cuddles later ?”

Alastor hesitated and thought for a moment.

“....Yes. Cuddles later.”, he answered then and there.

You smiled and then dug into your plate of food, humming in delight as you savored the flavors exploding in your mouth. Alastor looked at you and smiled gently, then he dug in as well.

As you two were cuddling, Alastor had his head in your lap, laying on his stomach, and you scratched behind his ears, making him purr, while is tail wagged happily, you both felt oddly at peace. This kind of friendship felt special to you and you didn’t take it for granted. You looked at your friend with a gently smile, while he enjoyed the affection he got from you.

“Hey, Al ?”

“Hum ?”

“You’re a great friend. Thank you for today.”

At first Alastor was dead silent in shock, his tail froze and then it wagged even faster than before and a beautiful Jazz song played. His ears flicked gently and he seemed to have an honest smile on his face.

“You’re welcome, Cher. And you are also a great friend. Thank YOU for being stubborn to become my friend.”

You chuckled and continued to pet his ears.

“You’re welcome, Deer.”

[whumping-valentine]

🦌 Fawn and Hunter - Part 1 🦌

(Inspired by my post from last night)

Content: hunter whumper, captured whumpee in bear trap, rural setting, injuries, creepy whumper, environmental whump (kinda)

1,500 Words (so nice to write something short for once)

I plan to make this series progressively more and more creepy and paranormal as it goes on (introducing ghosts, demons, vampires, etc.) which even begin to freak whumper out. I came up with an entire plot while I was trying (and failing) to sleep last night. I told myself I was going to write something not fantasy and actually grounded in reality for once but noooo I just had to have my cryptids. And complex plots. I'm incapable of making something simple, I really tried, guys. But trust me, y'all have no idea how crazy things are gonna get.

I'll tag this series as #fawn and hunter so you can use that to search my profile for it (which will be their "names" going forward). Apologies if the writing isn't the best, I wrote this in like 2 hours. Btw they're both nonbinary because I've decided I hate gender. Fellow genderqueers rise up.

Anyways, enjoy!

       The woods were Whumpee's favorite place to be. The way the winds rustled through the leaves, and birds sang from their nests up high in the trees. They loved nature, they always had since they were a child. And today was a day just like any other.

       They were new to this area in particular, and were eager to take a walk through a brand new set of woodland. They were heavily geared and excited, taking their steps into a small, secluded nature trail early in the morning.

       They lost themself among the trees, the crunching autumnal leaves beneath their feet, the wind against their face. They hiked through the rocky paths, stomped down steep hills, and rested against the trees. They were an adventurer at heart. One who loved nature, and animals, and the outdoors. They respected it, thanked it, and appreciated it. 

       They hadn't even realized they had ventured off the path, far too amazed by the rushing river and fall scenery. They snapped so many photos on their camera, it was all so beautiful. They had been in the area for about a week now, and locals have called the woods haunted and dangerous. How ridiculous! Whumpee thought. They were really missing out.

       A few hours into their hike, they relaxed in the leaves against a tree near the river, kicking their bare feet in the cold water. It didn't bother them much. They took a drink from their cantine, feeling high and happy on these simple joys of life. This is what it was all about. This was living.

       Whumpee dried off their feet and continued their hike away from the rushing waters, where they spotted a white-tailed deer. A doe, to be exact. She was beautiful, and whumpee was careful to remain hidden and quiet as they peered from behind a tree. They took notice of a heart shape among her white spots, quietly snapping photos of the unique pattern. When she spotted the human, both looked like deer caught in headlights.

       Whumpee slowly, and carefully, pulled out a granola bar from their bag, kneeling down on the ground as they offered it to the cautious creature. The doe slowly approached them, as if she could sense something positive about the small human. She sniffed the oats and began to munch. When there was nothing left the two made eye contact before the doe galloped off into the woods, hoof steps disappearing off into the distance. Whumpee was stunned by the encounter. It felt magical.

       Whumpee continued on through the woods, where the peaceful tranquility was interrupted by a loud, metal clank, followed by a pained scream that echoed through the trees. Whumpee collapsed to their knees in the dirt in a state of shock. They looked to their legs and saw a massive, heavy bear trap clung to their right ankle. It dug straight through their thick boots, going all the way down to the bone.

       As the adrenaline and shock wore off, an unbearable agony coursed all throughout their leg, followed by an aching throb. Any slight movement they'd make with their leg would cause a spike of horrendous, sharp pain. They tried their best to fight through it and pry the contraption off of them, but it was no use, and just caused more turmoil to their vessel. Even if they could get it off, they weren't sure they'd even be able to walk.

       They pulled their phone out of their bag to call for help, but to their dismay they had no signal. How far out did they venture from the path? It couldn't have been that far… yet by the look of the sky, night was approaching. They had been walking all day. How could they have gotten so lost?

       They shut off their phone and their hand fell limp to the ground in defeat. Pure dread took a hold of them as their racing heart dropped to their stomach. All they could do was lie back in the dirt and leaves, control their breathing, and pray to god someone finds them. 

       When they calmed down enough, all that was left was that throbbing ache. They squeezed their eyes shut as tears leaked from them. They felt so stupid. How could they have gotten so lost? How could they have allowed themself to get caught in such a large trap?

       They packed plenty of snacks and water, but would it even be worth it to stay alive? Maybe they should just accept defeat and let the Earth reclaim their bones. They had made a foolish mistake, and this was how things shall end. Taken down by the very thing they love. Ironic, isn't it?

       Night approached quickly, and along with it came the autumnal chill. It was freezing, and there was nothing they could do. They tried their best to relax and rest, but it was difficult. They had been camping many times before, but never without a blanket, in the dirt, with a bear trap around their ankle.

       The cold wind blew the decaying leaves off the trees, rustling as they tumbled around the ground. At least whumpee had the comforting sound of the crickets and owls to keep them company. Even the distant howling of wolves and bats flying overhead helped put them at ease. At least they weren't alone.

       Somehow they managed to fall asleep. They were awoken by the morning sun shining down on them, greeted by the chirp of birds who still had yet to fly south. The sun didn't stay for long, quickly passing behind thick clouds, casting a grey darkness over the land. Whumpee sighed, and stared up at the sky, getting lost in their thoughts of death and decay, trying to accept their fate.

       They were snapped out of their macabre thoughts by the sound of crunching leaves. They firstly assumed it to be a deer, but quickly noticed— it was a person!

       "H— hey!" Whumpee called out, sitting up, "Help me, please, I need help!"

       The person was dressed in thick, layered clothing. They wore a trapper hat with a mask that covered everything but their eyes, gripping an old, dirty, wooden shotgun in both their hands. The hunter looked between them and the trap, surprise in their brown eyes. They walked over to them.

        "Help?" Whumper questions, pulling down their mask, and a slow smile begins to cross their face, "Oh, yes. So sorry about the trap."

       "This… is your trap?" Whumpee questioned in disgust, "I don't hate hunters, but these kinds of traps are cruel and illegal! I've been stuck here all night, and I'm in so much pain, and I'm cold, and— and— stop smiling, you sicko, you caught a person!"

       "I did." Whumper said, sounding almost proud, kneeling down in front of their capture. "But who's fault is that? What's a pretty fawn like you doing this deep into the woods? It's not like there's a trail anywhere around here. I would know. I've never run into another person out here before. Not until now."

       "Don't— don't blame me! You shouldn't even have these kinds of traps to begin with!"

       "Stop yelling, you'll ruin that pretty voice of yours." Whumper grabbed their chin and inspected their face. They had big, green eyes that were only made larger by their circular glasses. Their face was freckled and covered with dirt, "Are you hurt anywhere else?"

        Whumpee roughly pushed their hand away, "Don't touch me! I'm fine except for my ankle, all thanks to you. Help me get it off, and I'll leave, and— and won't report you for possessing illegal traps. Is that so hard to do?"

       "Mm, it's not that it's hard..."

       "Then what is it?! Just— just take it off! It hurts! And I'm hungry, and tired, and getting sick, just— help me!" They cried.

      "If you want me to help then you can stop yelling at me. You can do that, can't you?"

       "Yeah, sure, whatever, just make it stop."

       "I don't appreciate your attitude, but I'll let it slide for now." Whumper stood back up.

       "For now?! What do you—!"

       "Shut it." Whumper cut them off, pointing their gun towards them. They then stuck out their hands, looking at whumpee with a blank yet firm expression, "Come. I'll fix you up."

      Whumpee stared at them and their outstretched hands. They didn't trust this person one bit.

       But it isn't like they had a choice.

       Reluctantly, whumpee took their hands, and was helped to their feet. Well, at least their good foot. They leaned against the hunter for support, letting out a groan and scream of pain. Their ankle was still throbbing as the sharp metal teeth cut through flesh and bone.

       Whumper picked them up and threw them over their shoulder, causing a surprised and pained yelp to escape their prey.

       As whumper carried them off through the forest, it was then where whumpee noticed the woodland chatter had fallen completely silent...

( If you want more of Fawn whumpee and Hunter whumper please let me know!! I will be writing more regardless though lol )

Edit: More can be found on my profile by searching Fawn and Hunter 👍 Thanks guys

[thatonebirdwrites]

Unintentional War that I didn't realize was happening

So I moved into this place about two years ago I think? Anyway, it's a poorer neighborhood with a lot of immigrants, poorer white folks, Black folks, and Hispanic folks -- basically very multicultural area. Not long after I moved in, I found my old pride flags and put one up in a window as a curtain. (I needed something for that window.) A few months after I moved in on a very snowy day, the next door neighbor to the South of me came over to offer to snowblow my driveway for twenty dollars. Now to set the stage, this guy's house looks like a literal dump. His front steps are caved in, his front door can't be opened, parts of siding is falling off, and who knows what the interior looks like. Also, I am disabled, and I only leave the house for medical appointments these days. So I get a good view of happenings in the neighborhood from my windows. So anyway, after he knocked, I came to the door in my wheelchair with a rainbow mask on and there's a pride flag in my window. He took one look at me, then at the pride flag and took several steps backward. Cursed and stalked off. I was very confused until I remembered what I was using for curtains. He never offered help again. But then signs appeared on his lawn. I didn't really notice what type of sign since I don't look his way much. Until I saw kids in his law tearing up a sign and dumping it in his trash. (How kind of them not to litter!) They timed it for when he was not home (smart kids!) So I kept a closer eye and discovered that the sign was a pro-Trump sign because he angrily put another out a week later. (Only for the kids to be at it again. Using his trash as the place to put the torn up sign.) This continued for a long time. Kids always timing it for when he's not home. It's not the same kids either. It's just whoever is passing by and sees it. Since I'm poor and can't afford real curtains (and blinds), I added another flag as curtains (demisexual). Seriously, pride flags make great curtains and are way cheaper than them where I am. Again I didn't think anything of it since for me it was just me being practical. Within a week of my new curtain-flag, he must have noticed because there was a forest of Pro-Trump signs in his yard. I was baffled by why he put out FIVE of them. Well, the kids didn't like that. So they tore them all up too. That's when I realized that maybe he thought this was some sort of war? Whoops. I had a few more pride flags given to me as gifts, and two more windows that needed curtains, so I put them up too (nonbinary and LGBTQIA flag that includes the brown and black stripes). Sure enough, pro-Trump signs appeared in his yard not long after (only for the kids passing by, timing it for again when he's gone, to tear them down). Then last week he shot off firearms in his lawn. We're in the middle of a CITY. It's illegal to shoot off firearms in city limits (If you are not at a licensed gun range). My friends urged me to call the cops on him since my house is very close to his and he could easily shoot through my window. I'm terrified of cops honestly, and I panic at phone calls. But never fear! The others who have valiantly torn down pro-Trump signs are here to save the day! They or someone like them called the cops. Now remember how I said his house looks like a dump? Cops must have brought in another agency because my younger sister sighted a condemned notice on his front door when she visited this past weekend. So for the past three days, he has torn out the rotted parts of his house. There's giant bags of trash in his yard that he puts a holey tarp over. The front part that was rotted out and literally falling apart was torn out. Quark (my cat) and I have been watching this drama from my bedroom window. The pro-trump signs in his yard got torn up again. I am thinking I should add more pride flags as curtains. What do y'all think?

[roosterbox]

Hey.

Psst. Hey. Hey!

Guess what?

It’s a special day today. How special, you might ask?

Oh, only the birthday of a certain @a-forger-and-a-point-man ! Woohoo!

Happy birthday ❤️❤️❤️

Also I wrote you a thing. Sorry if it’s sloppy - I had to do very quick work on it before the writer’s block kicked back in, lol. I think it came out pretty alright.

Tags: fluff, schmoop, baked goods? More like baked bads, love is stored in the attempt not the end result, nonbinary Eames using they/them pronouns, light references to future sexytimes, a single line of a hint of Eames wearing lingerie

———

Arthur comes home to the dulcet tones of metal crashing and muffled cursing. In any other circumstance, such a thing would have him drawing his gun, but he decides to trust his instincts on this one. Said instincts are telling him to remain calm. That everything is fine. Not normal necessarily, but fine. So his gun remains holstered at his hip as he makes his way inside.

He finds the cause in relatively short order. His kitchen, very recently completely remodeled, has seen better days. Various bowls and mixers lie strewn about on the counter. Cabinets are seemingly opened hither and thither arbitrarily. As if someone hadn’t been quite sure what they were looking for, or where, and they couldn’t be bothered to close anything behind them. His nostrils flare at the faintly scorched aroma of something being baked for a bit too long.

It didn’t take much to figure out what it was.

In the center of this disaster area stood Eames. Lovely, flour-covered Eames, currently locked in intense concentration as they put the finishing frosting touches on a cake set on the kitchen’s cleanest counter. They’re focusing so hard on their task, tongue slightly poking out and everything, that they have yet to notice Arthur’s arrival. There’s a metal cooling rack on the floor at their feet, which was undoubtedly the clanging sound from earlier. Eames was even wearing the silly apron Arthur had gifted them a few years prior. (“I saw it and thought of you,” he had said, presenting his partner with the frilly, pink gingham monstrosity. “I love it,” Eames responded, in a way that was equal parts in on the joke and completely sincere.) Seeing them in it now, Arthur finds himself loving it too.

He clears his throat.

Eames startles, jumping back a little. An extra dollop of cool blue frosting drips out of their piping bag onto the cake.

“Darling! You’re uh-“ Eames looks a little nervous. “-home early.”

“And you’ve been busy.” He makes a show of looking at the clutter surrounding them. “What have you been doing?”

His partner blushed. “Oh you know. Things.” They say this, playing coy as if there isn’t a whole frosted cake sitting right there in the open.

“Things.” Arthur steps further into the kitchen. He toys with the idea of feigning ignorance a bit more, but it’s been a long day. So instead, he shifts his attention to the cake-shaped elephant in the room. “‘Things,’ I presume?”

“Oh, this?” Eames chuckles awkwardly. It fizzles out too quickly though. “… yeah.”

They’re so uncharacteristically nervous that it’s starting to worry him. Generally, Eames’ confidence knows absolutely no bounds, even when they’re doing something they’ve never attempted before. If Eames was nervous enough for it to be this obvious…

Arthur gestures at the cake. “For me?”

Eames meets his gaze, worrying their plush lower lip between their teeth. “For you,” they confirm. “Happy birthday, my love.”

All at once, Arthur’s heart feels warm. If it hadn’t been for Kyle and Sophie at work pitching in to buy him lunch, he might have forgotten what day it was himself. It was nothing special, he might have argued. No one cares much about turning 38, after all. It’s not a big milestone like 30 or 40.

Eames, however, never forgot anything. Especially anything about Arthur.

Eames also, interestingly enough, doesn’t bake much. The lingering smell of burning leads Arthur to the one obvious conclusion about the cake between them… and the source of Eames’ nerves.

He smiles. “You didn't need to-“

Eames shakes their head. “I wanted to. Needed an excuse to stretch my legs in here, after all.”

“Mmhmm. And did stretching your legs have to involve opening all these cabinets?” He tries to keep his tone light. He’s not actually mad or put out at all, not with the evidence of Eames’ love and care sitting right in front of him.

From the grin Eames flashes, he was successful. “I wasn’t sure where you moved things to since last time.”

A likely story. Arthur gently closes the cupboard nearest to him, moving closer to Eames and his cake. Now he’s near enough to observe (and try not to giggle over) the fact that apron Eames is wearing seems to have simultaneously done its job (it’s covered in flour and frosting) and not done its job (there are patches of floured handprints on Eames pants, and half-disappearing on their shirt underneath the covering). And there’s a big dusty splotch on their face. Arthur reaches over and runs a finger through it, the tip coming away white.

“Get a bit lost in your work, did you?”

Eames shrugs. “Only a bit.” They look down at the cake, and seem to remember something. “Oh! Hold on!”

They lean over to reach into the drawer beside them. Full of various knick-knacks, Arthur knows. After a moment, they pull back with a candle in their hand. It was a big, bulky 2, the sort one might use for a child’s birthday cake. Arthur raises an eyebrow.

Eames shrugs again. “Best I could do.” They set the wax number into the frosting securely (it leans back a bit far, but seems steady) before lighting the wick.

They smile at Arthur, but do not sing. That’s another thing that Eames has always remembered - how much Arthur actually hates that damn birthday song. “Make a wish!”

Arthur considers only briefly before blowing out the flame.

“What did you- wait, don’t tell me,” Eames pulls him a little closer and gives his lips a quick peck. “You want it to come true, after all.”

Arthur, who as always had wished for many more years spent right here, just like this, with the love of his life, hums in agreement. They kiss again, this one a bit more heated, before Eames gestures behind Arthur. There are plates and cutlery sitting there, waiting to be used.

“Let’s dig into your cake,” they say, reaching back to untie their apron, though there is a slight reluctance in their eyes.

It turns out to be more than a little burnt. And dry. And the flavors of the sponge cake clashes a bit with the frosting. But even so, Arthur compliments Eames’ work. He tells them he loves it, and means it. “Better than any store bought cake,” he says.

“Don’t kid a kidder, love.” Eames looks away, biting their lip again. “We both know how shit I am at baking.”

“Maybe so,” Arthur wipes his mouth. “But I’m not kidding. I do love it - promise.” He covers Eames’ hand with his own.

Eames smirks. “Gonna give me a line about how it’s the thought that counts?”

“Nothing so obvious.” Arthur takes one last bite, leaving nothing but crumbs behind on his plate. “You made it. You tried. And I appreciate everything you’ve done for me today.” His eyes flit around briefly. “Even if you did leave a mess in your wake.”

“Eh, I’ll clean it up later.” Arthur opens his mouth to protest, but Eames continues. “Right now, I’m more eager to let you open your present.”

Arthur perks up. “Present?” He looks around.

“Yep. Present.” Eames’ smile is bold, and more than a little lascivious. “But you’ll have to follow me to get that one.” They incline their head towards the bedroom.

This earns them another eyebrow raise. “Oh? And what is this mysterious gift?” Arthur lets himself be pulled up and towards the adjacent room. “Can I get a hint?”

“So impatient,” Eames rolls their eyes. “But…” they take Arthur’s hand and draw him closer, resting it against the small of their back. Slowly, they let his fingers drift below the waistband of their trousers, where they know he’ll feel the smooth silk hiding underneath.

Arthur’s eyes widen. And darken with the thinnest veil of lust. He dips forward for a kiss, but Eames pulls away.

“Come on,” they say, dragging him forward again. Forward and into their bedroom before kicking the door closed behind them.

Turns out, Eames enjoys Arthur’s birthday present almost as much as Arthur does.

[written-wonderlands]

If possible, my I request a reading date between a nonbinary reader and character of your choice? I personally love the little headcanons and fanfic I've seen so far, and am curious to learn more about you as a writer!

EDGAR ALLEN POE X READER. (not the real author , let’s bfr.)

( fluff. )

𝓬w : gn!reader , no specific gender mentioned .

𝓬haracters : crush!poe x gn!reader

𝓕ootsteps followed yours , the sound of shoes walking against the floor filling the hallway with noise.

Eyes lock on the office door , the name plate reading ‘𝓔dgar 𝓐llen 𝓟oe’. Extending your hand , two knows came down on the door. With in a couple seconds , a familiar face covered with his raven locks &&. a little raccoon on his shoulder opened the door .

“ 𝓔ddie — are you free today ? ”

Stifling back a small giggle at the dumb nickname you gave him , he shook his head. His schedule was pretty much always clear , and Karl loved hanging out with you.

“ 𝓐lright ! Let’s go then . ”

You shuffled back some ; his hand now intertwined with yours. As fingers laced together his heart started to beat , you sure were fascinating 🌀🌀..

You’ve always been, from the first day he went you. Which was — give or take two months ago. You worked as a librarian at the local library. And he was one your regulars , stopping by at least twice a week for more books. With how often he stopped by , more conversation started between the two of you. Though he was pretty shy at first. Still is. One time , he brought Karl with him— and that made your WHOLE day .

Now the two of you hang out almost every day , or at least text & call. You haven’t gone a day without hearing from him. There’s also been trust formed , he’s given you a key to his office and house. And Karl ; that little guy loves you. ( mainly because you feed him , when Poe isn’t looking ).

“ 𝓦here are we off to , this time , mon amour ? ”

“ 𝓵ibrary ! ”

“ 𝓘sn’t it closed today ? ”

“ 𝓝o one needs to know that !! ”

Amethyst hues stared into you , a little dumbfounded at first. After a second he looked away , nodding. Your shenanigans were something he’d become accustomed to in your friendship. But thinking about it legally .. couldn’t you get fired 💧 .. ? Eh .

Not too long after , you two arrived at the library , entering throughout the back entrance with your key. Now yes … you could totally get in big trouble. But hey ! There’s no cameras in here.

Flicking the light switch , the building was more dim now. You lead Poe around ; bringing him to your favorite spot in the library. It was a corner decorated with fairy lights , bean bags , pillows— overall just very comfy.

You brought out the specific book you wanted to read , The Hollow Man. A mystery novel ; something Poe would love to read. You saw the toothy smile appear on his face after reading the title .. cute .

A couple chapters into the book ; you rested your head on his shoulder. A shiver ran down his spine , blush dusting his cheeks. This whole experience had felt very out of the blue— you always took him somewhere , but never has your time together been so close and intimate.

A mumble escaped his lips , inaudible but you know you heard something. You turned to him , about to ask what he said when you noticed he was already staring at you. Suddenly the words left his mouth ; and the room was silent enough to hear a pin drop.

“ 𝓒an I kiss you ? ”

… quietness. Your blinked at him , confused. Were you dreaming ? No .. you couldn’t have been , surely. After a couple moments , you nodded with no audible response.

And that’s when lips crashed against yours , softly. Eyes fluttered shut ; engulfing the warmness the kiss had sent both of you. A couple seconds went by before pulling away— both of you staring at the other , Poe finally being the one to speak up.

“ 𝓓oes this mean .. — ”

Poe didn’t need to finish his sentence , you understood him. You understood every little part of him ; which is what he found so fascinating about you.

“ 𝓨es , it means I love you too . ”

R. — hi !!! Thank you for this request ^__^. I know it was a bit more of a hang out then date BUT,, we prosper . Possibly a part 2 to this if wanted, I’m not all that sure.