#so i guess the real question is how the hell do i talk to people about things

[magicisrealandsoismyally]

Okay, thought we were being like, chill, but I guess that's a kindness only afforded to people you consider to be women, so I'm gonna break this down piece by piece here, a lot to address.

"purposely obtuse or intellectually dishonest"

right off the bat the fact I disagree with you means I'm being intentionally wrong and evil. There's no room for me to be misguided, or making mistakes, or being uninformed, I'm either playing stupid or lying. Got it.

I "either hate AFABs, or don't take harm against them seriously". Once again, another false dichotomy. I take harm against women incredibly seriously, I just don't think the biggest threat to women is trans women. I think we have the same enemies, conservative men in power. I said you were fueled by fear because I was trying to be nice. It's not just fear. It's anger. Misdirected anger. You, and many others, have decided the easiest thing to do is hate.

Yeah. It is in fact transphobic to demand sex segregated spaces given that a true biological sex isn't fucking real. That's why it's "Assigned male at birth" or "Assigned female at birth". I've been assigned a lot of things throughout my life. So have you. Are you going to tell me those assignments were always accurate? I mean hell, with the amount of cis people out there, their accuracy rate is definitely above 50%. Still not accurate tho.

Transphobia is both the people trying to murder us, and the people, who don't want us in spaces that are away from the people trying to murder us. You are aware that the same cis men wanna kill us both right? You've arbitrarily drawn a line in the sand because you are grossly misunderstanding how trans people work. The number one piece of advice I see on this site from transfems, is how to avoid being SAed. By cis men, by cis women, by trans men. It's so common, that it makes me question if I even want to be in spaces with y'all. You wanna talk about fear? I'm fucking terrified. All the time. The instant I come out to the world, I get to spend the rest of my life, knowing that at any moment, someone says anything negative about me? and my life is over. Because people like you, will believe them. Because the scary transfem must be the person oppressing you. Because its easy, to villainize the minority. And it's easy to decide he's a monster. And all the while, she loses everything just for being an easy target.

You wanna talk physical safety? 83% of genderqueer victims of fatal violence are trans women. People love to kill us.

AMAB privilege is not real. I was not socialized male. I think you have a perspective on how the patriarchy functions that hasn't seen the other side of the fence, so let me go ahead and elaborate on that. Being a Man, is something you can fail out of in the patriarchy. It's a club that is nigh impossible to enter, but really fucking easy to fail out. Under the patriarchy, I am not a man. I failed out of that shit at the age of 8 when I said I didn't like sports. When I did anything "girlie" at all. When I cried. I was a crybaby (according to my family) and a faggot (according to the other kids at school). And from that moment, I was a target. Always have been. I wasn't socialized male, I was socialized as a failed man. Most trans girls are treated that way from a young age. I did not benefit from the patriarchy I was shoved around. I have gotten into an absurd amount of fights that I never started because some fucking asshole decided to beat the shit out of the fag. I spent like a week on tumblr before hearing other shared experiences about this kinda thing. Literally not hard to talk to trans women about this stuff if you, yk, try.

"We don’t need to check genitals I would have no problem with the manliest most masculine most passing trans man in an afab space because no matter what hormones or surgery are involved they cannot rape and impregnate me with their penis the same way an AMAB person could."

How do you know he's trans. How. Tell me right now how you tell the difference between a cis man and a trans man with bottom surgery. Do that without being transphobic, please. Find a way. I'm looking for something hilarious to read today, it's been a long one. Because if you don't have a way, your entire transmisogynistic utopia falls apart here. You can't tell if someone is trans. It's about identity. You cannot tell if someone has a penis. No matter what you do. You cannot tell someone's assigned gender at birth.

And how wonderful, you mentioned prisons, just read about this one. Did you know when transfems are imprisoned they get placed with the most violent cellmates? It's a tactic to reduce prison violence. Give the most violent people their own live in target. They get called prison wives. It's called V-Coding. So yeah, prisons are messed up. For both of us. If only we could talk about that and unite to fix that oh wait that's literally the whole point of having transfems in feminist spaces, crazy how that works.

"Also trans AMAB people commit sex crimes at an even higher rate than cis AMAB people"

WHERE IS THE FUCKING SOURCE. I am tired of TMEs and their constant stream of libel demonizing trans women. All of your nonsense statistics is so fucking stupid. Where are you getting these numbers? The sex offenders list? The one that as recently in the 80s included anyone who crossdressed or hit on a person of the same gender even if they were reciprocating? I literally have heard cis lesbians complain about that shit on this site, you're not even being a feminist by citing sex crimes, you're being a cop. Fucking being trans counted as being a sex criminal for most of American history. Drag queens, trans women, and crossdressers get accused of sex crimes all the fucking time, you have no critical thinking god fucking damn.

"which again did not START segregated they became that way because AMAB people could t be trusted not to rape/assault AFAB ones"

Yeah no lmao, (this next paragraph is going to be USAmerican centric because yk, that's what I learned about growing up) they kicked literally all queer people out when women got the right to vote, both lesbians and bi-women had to fight their way back into these spaces in the decades prior. I feel like we forgot about the Ellen Show or smth? Like feminists did not fucking go to bat for her after she came out. Groups will turn on their supporters the instant they decide they don't need them. Mainstream Feminism turned on people of color and queer people who put their own movements on hold to support the women's right to vote so fucking fast. It's American history too, all I had to do to learn this was have a pulse in my US history class.

Also “capitalism is real because it impacts me in a negative way but all other forms of oppression where I might be considered the privileged one in the dynamic is just hysterical people distracting from capitalism”

Girl, reading comprehension, try it out for size. I did not say these systems of oppression are not real. I'm saying demonization and fear of minorities (like, yk, trans women) is a tool of the existing power systems to make you hate us and not your actual enemy, the people in power (like, yk, rich people who are usually cis white conservative men). You keep bringing up how awful existing systems like prisons are but you just, do not analyze who fucking set those systems up. Private prisons are owned by the rich, not by the trans woman you're yelling at who is 4 bad days away from giving up and killing herself.

If trans AMAB people don’t want to be housed with cis ones, they can do the legwork and create those spaces for themselves like AFAB people did they do NOT have the right to commandeer our movement and literally erase our rights and protections because not allowing AMAB people into these vulnerable spaces might give them the big sad.

Okay so first you tell me feminist spaces weren't originally segregated by sex, and now you tell me it's an AFAB only movement? Because I know for a fact trans people have always been at bat for feminism. American white women said the same shit to women of color between 1920-1965. Cause the instant we become expendable, y'all throw us aside.

commandeer our movement

Really? Do you genuinely think trans women could ever outnumber cis women? What cartoon candyville are you from where there are more trans women than cis women? How the fuck are we going to commandeer the movement? We're like, 0.3% of the population at most. What are you talking about.

YEAH MY GUY IM FORCED TO LIVE LIKE A FUCKING PREY ANIMAL!!!

Okay so for starters, transwomen are also in constant fear. We have literally been hunted, this is just, like, a historical thing. Second, I'm not a guy. Don't call me that. You cannot honestly tell me you're not transphobic and then proceed to use exclusively masc terms to refer to me. That's just wild. Playing along with the tranny does not make you not a trans ally. You're still a transphobe just cause you're fine with trans men.

Some fear is completely rational

Yeah. We're both completely justified in our fear. I do not build my politics off my fear. You do. That's the difference. No matter how terrified I am of TMEs, I still fight for y'all. Always have, always will.

Gender is literally fake and varies from culture to culture. Sex based oppression is real and fucks over the lives of AFAB people worldwide.

Ohh, damn, so close, you'll get it next time I'm sure. See the trick is BOTH OF SEX AND GENDER ARE FAKE. Genderqueer people just admit that it's about self expression. You literally just described how fallible sex assignment is by talking about intersex people, it's like, hella cultural. Sex based oppression is real. So is Gender based oppression. Because people are shitty about fake shit, all the time, we're on tumblr, the "death threats over shipping" website.

You cannot tell me you think you're not transphobic and then claim gender oppression isn't real. I feel bad for any trans people who have the misfortune to interact with you. I hope one day you realize you fought on the wrong side of history. And if not? I hope they speak of you in the same breath as the grown adults trying to stop Ruby Bridges from attending school, in the same breath as the cops at Stonewall. You have an excellent day. I probably won't, but what's new. I'm sorry you're so afraid. I'm sorry you fell for it when they told you who to be afraid of. I'm sorry I couldn't do more. If anyone wants sources on this stuff, i'll add links to posts getting into it, a lot of it's screenshots and i'm not about to make this any longer than it is. There's more ofc, but I can only cite what links I have on hand, y'all can do your own research, read like, any transfem blog while they still exist. https://www.tumblr.com/honeylemony/767694258735136768?source=share https://www.tumblr.com/marxism-transgenderism/767536279224270848/okay-ive-said-before-that-part-of-why https://www.tumblr.com/girldogmystic/766813723287502848/i-wanna-get-more-specific-with-this-according-to

"OP is a terf" is a thought-terminating cliche meant to keep you from questioning the status quo and keep you afraid of being labeled a heretic should you come to your own conclusions about anything.

[vagueiish]

guyyyysssss, how in the ever-loving hells am i supposed to become friends with people when i suffer from chronic lurker disease???

[landoughnut]

Nurse He's Out Again

♡ masterlist - request!

♡ pairing - lando norris x fem!reader (fc - brooke shields :)

♡ summary - just lando thirsting on the main and giving being a pr nightmare, also him fighting for his life in the comments

♡ warnings - horny/simp lando, crack, some fluff, some cursing, one kms mention

♡ w/c & a/n - smau | wanted to do a social media one cause i love reading them so much so here we are! i really love this actually so i hope you enjoy xoxo

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[bbydoll18xx]

She's Such a Good Girl

You move in across the hall from Paige Bueckers. It doesn’t take long before she tries to shatter your innocent persona. And you just let her. 

Paige Bueckers x reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Themes: reader is a shy lil baby, a few inappropriate thoughts, paige being a huge flirt

Masterlist

A/N: hiii cuties! So I had a few ideas I've been toying around with, so I merged them together and came up with this. Also the third part of 'I Can Do It With a Broken Heart' will hopefully be out soon but I'm still trying to figure out the direction I want to take it in. Enjoy!

~

Your breaths are ragged as you lug your final suitcase through the front door of your new apartment. It was your senior year at UCONN, and you and your roommates had been assigned a new apartment, which you were ecstatic about. Long gone were the days of being squished into an old dorm room. And you were very excited about the lack of noise, which had kept you from your much needed 10 hours of sleep the past few years. 

The August heat was stifling, but you welcomed the cool air coming through the vents, as you began organizing your new bedroom to perfection. Eagerness bubbled in your chest as you thought about your upcoming year before graduation. You’d finally be free. 

College was supposed to be the time to find yourself before being inevitably dragged into the cruel pits of the real world. It was the time to go wild, get drunk often, and maybe even meet the love of your life. But you had spent your weekends studying and fine tuning the ‘good girl’ persona that you had adopted when you were a child. 

You were the eldest daughter with a raging people pleasing complex, and it was starting to feel like your downfall. Your two roommates had found adoring boyfriends, and they often found themselves drunk as hell on the weekends, reveling in being young and carefree. You were growing to hate your crippling shyness.

You’d be lying if you said your lack of experience hadn’t started to weigh on you. You really wanted to learn how to put yourself out there. But you were dreadfully shy, and the idea of dating or hooking up was terrifying. Your innocence was fucking embarrassing. How would you explain to someone that you were a virgin? And what if they thought you were too timid to be good in bed?

So you just continued on as you had been throughout college; you studied, and you buried yourself in your imagination, and you prayed and hoped that someone would be willing to overlook all of your own insecurities. 

Your thoughts of pity are interrupted by your two roommates calling your name. You walk out of your bedroom into the living room where the two girls are sharing shiteating grins, and you send them a questioning look.

“You’ll never guess who is across the hall from us,” Sarah says slyly, causing a pang of worry to shoot through your chest. The smirk on her face grew as you asked who it was.

“Paige Bueckers,” your other roommate, Taylor, shrieks as your face turns bright red.

Fuck. 

“You’re fucking joking, right?” You whisper, eyes automatically flitting towards your door. 

“Nope! I saw her and Aubrey Griffin walk out of the apartment literally five minutes ago,” Taylor announces, laughing as you fall backwards onto the couch.

“This is not good,” you whine dramatically, hands covering your face. 

“Now you can see her pretty face every day,” Sarah all but sings, taking great pleasure in how uncomfortable you felt.

You scoff in indignation. “I can see her pretty face every day from the safety and comfort of my phone. It’s not like I’m actually ever going to talk to her.”

Your roommates pout at your sheer stubbornness. They had been trying to get you out of your shell from the last few years, much to your displeasure. 

“C’mon, you’re so hot. You could totally catch Paige’s eye. You gotta have more confidence, girl,” Taylor all but whines exasperatedly. 

“Yeah, sure,” you snort derisively. “Maybe while I’m at it, I can rizz up Harry Styles.” You roll your eyes at their ridiculousness.

They sigh in unison, stopping their pleading.

“We’ll just have to see what happens,” Taylor says with a dramatic wink, causing you to stick out your tongue childishly. 

“I have spent the last three years avoiding Paige Bueckers�� beauty. I can do it one more year.”

Little did you know, though, that it would become quite hard to avoid the tall blonde.

~

Friday evening rolls around quickly, and because it was the last weekend before classes started, the students were eager to party it up. You had hoped the apartment building would be quiet, empty from the throngs of students out partying elsewhere. But the girls of the basketball team had other ideas.

The last few days, you had seen multiple girls coming and going from Paige’s apartment. The noise had been loud, but nothing too crazy. It was well known that the girls often went live on tiktok or instagram, and you had heard their laughter across the hall last night. So far, though, the volume levels had maintained a respectable level. 

You had obviously jinxed yourself by thinking that, as the laughter and music pounded through your own walls. The cacophonous sound sent you spiraling. If you wanted them to be quieter, you would have to go ask them to turn it down, and you hated confrontation.

But you were alone tonight, and if you wanted to go to sleep at a decent hour, that was your only option. 

You move in front of the mirror in your bathroom, subconsciously fixing your hair and muttering words of encouragement to yourself. You could do this. Paige is just a regular person. Sure, she was ridiculously attractive, but she was just a girl.

You walk out of the apartment into the hallway, your heart pounding dangerously as you near the door. The volume was insane, and you felt momentarily sad that you were wasting your Friday night alone at home, while everyone was having the time of their lives. 

You shake your head, internally chastising yourself for the brutal thoughts, and with all the courage you could muster up, you knock loudly on the door, hoping the basketball team could hear it through the noise. 

A few moments pass, and you momentarily think you’re about to pass out before the door opens and you are met with the glorious face of Paige fucking Bueckers. 

You gulp, immediately grabbing a lock of hair to play with, desperately attempting to mask your anxiety. You bite your lip and look up at her.

“H-hi,” you stutter, feeling the blush bloom in your cheeks. “I’m so sorry to bother you guys, but the music is a little loud.”

Paige's face morphs into a look of surprise. “Oh shit. I’m sorry. I told KK to turn it down, but no one listens to me around here,” she jokes. “You live across the hall, right? I’m Paige!”

Her friendliness doesn’t necessarily shock you; she was well known for being a genuinely kind person around campus, but the fact that she knew who you were does shock you.

“Uh, yeah I do.” You introduce yourself with a shy smile, growing warmer under her gaze.

“Why don’t you come hang with us?” She prods, gesturing towards the living room with a large grin on her beautiful fucking face. 

Your carefully crafted plan to forget about Paige this year was crumbling around you. And before you could even begin to thinking about stopping yourself, you shyly accept her invitation.

There was no going back now. 

Paige ushers you in, leading you into the chaos, where most of the basketball team were enthralled in making tiktoks. 

As you walk in and stand next to Paige, you look around, all but staring at the tall girls. The whole basketball team was ridiculously attractive, and it made your shyness increase tenfold. Paige gets their attention, and their eyes turn to you as Paige introduces you. 

“She just moved in across the hall. And I told you the music was too loud, KK,” Paige adds, sending a sharp look towards the younger girl. 

She grins mischievously, walking up to you with the swagger you could only dream of having. 

“Sorry, girly pop, we’ll keep it down next time,” KK says, sending you a wink. You giggle in response, feeling more at ease already. 

Paige introduces you to the rest of the team. They’re all so friendly, and your nervous demeanor slowly melts away as you acclimate to their boisterousness. They take turns talking to you, but Paige stays beside you, never being more than an arms length away. 

You weren’t going to read into it. But the little voice in your head was screaming in both apprehension and glee. In the same way, you did not want to leave her side. In an insanely short amount of time, her presence had become a comfort to you, and you weren’t quite ready to give that up yet. So despite it being well past your respectable bedtime, you powered through, Paige’s aura energizing you. 

As you mused over your thoughts, Paige was stuck in her own head. She had seen you around campus before; your pretty face was a difficult one to forget, and she was secretly delighted when she had opened her door to reveal your timid face. 

She was determined to break you out of your shell. Little did she know how much she would. 

~

You look down at your phone a while later, and you’re shocked to see that it was just past midnight. You could not remember the last time you were out that late, and a yawn threatens to escape from the depths of your throat. You subtly rub at your eyes, and Paige doesn’t miss it. 

She nudges you, and you look up to gaze at her bright blue eyes.

God, she was so pretty. 

“You sleepy?” She asks teasingly, and you nod, a blush creeping up your neck again. 

“I’m not used to staying up this late. I should probably head back home,” you say, regret lacing your words. 

Paige nods, standing up to walk you out to the door. You don’t miss how her hand grazes your waist as she guides you. 

You wave goodbye to the girls who still remained, and they enthusiastically bid you a goodnight, making you promise to join them again soon. 

“Thanks for letting me crash,” you profess, heart still pounding dangerously from the subtle touches, tingles on your waist left in her wake. 

“Course,” she shrugs, a smirk on her face. She hands you her phone. “Let me know if we’re too loud again,” she whispers, leaning down to your ear. 

Her closeness has you flustered, and you quickly enter your contact information, avoiding the heat of her gaze. 

As you hand her cell phone back, her fingers brush across yours, and you subconsciously bite your lip to hold back a shaky breath from the view of her long fingers and her big, veiny hands. 

Fuck. 

The smirk doesn’t fade from Paige’s face as she notices you staring, and your face erupts in a vicious blush once more. . 

With a bashful wave and a smile, you leave, all but running back into your apartment. Your heart was pounding, and there was a slight ache down in your most intimate area that had you squirming in desire. 

Your little crush on Paige had been unrelenting the last few years, but it was still just casual. Things had changed, though, and now your feelings were undeniable. Long gone were the days of ignoring your sexuality.

Paige was so hot. And you were so screwed. 

~

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Please, please, please let me know what you think and if you want another part (or more)! Again, thanks for all the love and support!

xoxo katy

[yeonzzzn]

phantom and the opera ; park sunghoon

pairing: phantom!sunghoon x afab!reader word count: 3.9k synopsis: a phantom stalks the opera house you currently sing for. a phantom who has eyes and ears for you and only you. warnings: swearing, smut, unprotected sex, murder, blood, sunghoon is well a phantom obvi so he’s dead, mentions of death, MINORS DNI!!!

Sunghoon doesn’t remember when he died—just that he did. His only other memory before his death is how he died. 

Sunghoon held his arms behind his back, tangling his fingers together as he slowly walked the halls of the opera house he currently, well, haunts. He stopped right in the doorway leading to behind the stage, staring at the spot where he was murdered. 

The experience of being murdered was definitely a zero out of ten in his book. And his murderer? Got a whopping two stars on Yelp for being the shittest murderer ever. Home guy just walks in through the back door in the middle of switching between sets and shoves a dagger straight through Sunghoon’s side and twists. Sunghoon was the only one behind the stage that was ready for the next scene, warming up his vocal cords for the big range he was about to sing out. It definitely took him by surprise to feel the dagger pierce through his skin and feel literally everything leak out of his body as he bled out on the floor. 

The next he knew he was standing there, looking at his dead body and being confused as fuck as to how he was still on Earth. Weren’t you supposed to go to heaven or hell once you’re passed? Guess not in Sunghoon’s case. 

And ever since then, he has stalked the grand opera house. He doesn’t even know how much time has passed since his murder or if the man was even caught. He doesn’t even know why he was murdered to begin with. Who randomly goes into an opera house and kills one of its cast members? That fucked obviously. And for what? NOTHING! According to the talk of the people who’ve made their way in and out of the building after his death, all his belongings and even money, wallet, keys—literally everything—were still on his person. 

Guess the guy just needed to let go of some pent-up rage and Sunghoon was just the unlucky bastard who was his victim. 

Again, two stars on yelp. 

Guy is an asshole. 

So Sunghoon decided to take it upon himself to be the local opera ghost and stop any future crime from happening. 

Or so he tried. 

Because ya know, he’s a boo and no one can see nor hear him. The most homie can do is throw some objects around. Real spooky shit. 

So Sunghoon gave up and spent however long it’s been to watch free opera shows and silently or even loudly, judge the shows. Because again he’s a ghost, who can stop him? 

You. 

It all began with you. 

One long night at the opera, Sunghoon continued his normal walks around the building. The show ended and everyone was gone—or so he thought. Sunghoon rambled on about the cast and setting and how completely shitty that version of Wicked just was. 

“Wasn’t this an opera house? Since when did this place start doing random ass musicals and plays?” he scrunches his nose, staring down at his black boots. 

“The owners decided to expand. This building is just a theater now.” 

Sunghoon stopped walking and looked up to see you standing at the entrance to the dressing rooms. 

He raised a brow, turning to look behind him and seeing no one. 

“How did you get back here? This place is for cast members and staff only.” You asked.

Sunghoon once again looked behind him and everywhere around him. There’s no way you’re speaking to him, right?

“Will you stop fidgeting and answer my question?” You snapped, resting your hands on your hips as you took him in, seeing the pure confusion on his face. 

“You can see me? And hear me?” he asked, now fidgeting with the seams of his cape. 

You rolled your eyes and let out a groan, “Of course, I can see you!” you motioned your hand in his direction, “Stop beating around the bush and state your business here.” 

Sunghoon dropped his hands at his sides, tilting his head ever so slightly while he looked at you. Watching you watching him. 

You tried to keep your composure and not be distracted by the handsome man in front of you wearing a really old version of the phantom’s suit from The Phantom of The Opera. Where did he even get that outfit? It’s so outdated. 

Sunghoon was speechless. How could he not be? Someone finally took notice of him. A beautiful woman at that. 

“I’ve always been here…” he mumbles, not knowing what else to say. 

You open your mouth to question him more, just to snap it shut as you fully drink him in. Taking in his deep brown eyes and the moles that surround his face. The way his hair parts and slightly falls in his face. It’s that moment you realize who he was. Remembering seeing his photo in the halls of this theater as one of the best actors and opera singers this city has known. And remembering how he was brutally murdered behind the stage many many many years ago. 

You were talking to the ghost of Park Sunghoon. 

“How…what?” 

“That’s what I am asking myself too,” he said with a sigh, shoving his hands into his pockets, “Guess you might be something special.” 

And ever since then, Sunghoon has been attached to you. The first person to take notice of him in so long. The first person to react to him. To talk back to him. And he means talk back. 

Sassy thing you are towards him. Always critiquing his comments on this new theme of theater, plays, operas, and everything in between. And honestly? He loved it. 

If he wasn’t already in love with you at first sight, he definitely was the moment he first heard you sing. It entranced him. Your acting and your stage presence as a whole set him on fire. His nonbeating heart felt as if it were working again. The way he stalked outside the dressing room that evening, waiting so impatiently for you to step out. 

“YN!” he called out the minute you took a single step out the door. 

You held a finger up to your lips, quickly shushing him. You knew no one else could hear him, but you never wanted to risk it either. Or risk talking to him when others were still in the building. You’d look crazy. Or worse, someone else would notice Sunghoon and realize he haunts this theater. Deep down, in the small few months you have known this phantom, you’ve grown so fond of him, and if he were to just disappear…

Sunghoon quickly snapped his mouth shut, lifting his hand and pointing down the hallway. With a slow nod, you followed behind him until you reached a small room for meetings, closing the door behind you. 

You noticed his body language, and how nervous he seemed to be, “Everything okay?” You asked, leaning your back against the door, “You seemed eager to talk to me.” 

Sunghoon took a deep breath, placing his hands on the back of the chair at the table, gripping it tightly, “I…I just want to tell you how well you did tonight.” 

He’s seen you perform multiple times. But it wasn’t until hearing you sing tonight that really took him over. 

You softly smiled, glancing down to the floor. It was the first time he’s complimented you. Sunghoon has only ever judged every play and would critique all the actors and singers. But never said anything about you. Until just now. 

“Thank you,” you softly whispered, slowly looking back up to see him standing in front of you, eyes searching yours, “Sunghoon?” 

How could he tell you he was crazy about you? How in love he was with you? He wasn’t even sure he could touch you. Yeah, he was able to touch other nonliving objects, but a living thing? 

“Can I try something?” he asked in a low voice, barely lifting his arm. Your heart pounded in your chest and you could feel your palms starting to sweat. You were so sure he could see the nervousness on your face, yet you nodded anyway. 

Sunghoon hovered his hand over your cheek, then slowly cupped your face. He released an exhale and smiled wide, “I never knew how badly I wanted to touch you until just now.” 

Now you were so sure your face was red. Heart dropped down to your stomach, “You’ve been wanting to touch me?” 

He nodded, “Can I try another thing?” You didn’t even answer him, reaching your arms out to fling them around his neck and crashing your lips to his, pulling the phantom against your body, not wanting any distance to be put between you both. 

You also never knew how badly you wanted to touch him until this moment. And it was everything you could have imagined. He might have been a bit cold to the touch, but you swear he still felt warm against you. How was it even possible to touch him? It was a mystery, one you didn’t care about learning. All that mattered was him. 

You don’t even know how long you stood there, pressed against that door with Sunghoon’s tongue down your throat, not that you cared anyway how much time flew by. Sunghoon eventually sent you home, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

Sunghoon lost count of the times he’s touched you now. Lost count of the times he’s pulled you into rooms of the theater. The amount of times he’s pressed you against the walls and roamed his hands up and down your body. He was completely obsessed with you and everything about you. Nothing could get better or ruin this feeling. 

Until something did. 

Not just something. Someone. 

Heeseung. 

A new hotshot actor and singer that was added to the current play due to another one falling ill. 

Sunghoon didn’t like him from the moment he looked at you for longer than a second. 

You noticed a change in Sunghoon’s demeanor. Always wearing a frown and creasing his brows. Eyes always staring off, looking far away. 

Usually during practices, Sunghoon’s eyes were always locked on you as he stood on the balcony. Always giving you smiles. But lately, it’s been nothing but frowns and looks of disgust. 

“YN!” Heeseung called for you, running his hand down your forearm, “Want to help me go over this part?” You kept your eyes locked with Sunghoon, watching how he gripped the railing of the balcony, “YN?” Heeseung said with worry, now pulling your arm towards him and you finally meeting his eyes. 

“What? Yes, sorry. I can help you go over this.” 

Heeseung glanced up to where you were staring, raising a brow. 

It took everything in Sunghoon to not jump from this floor. But what could he do? He can’t just yell at someone who can’t even see him. 

Days passed and the closer Heeseung was getting to you. Always giving you smiles during free moments. Standing way too close to you. Touching you more than Sunghoon’s liking, even though he would prefer Heeseung not fucking touch you at all. 

Sunghoon followed behind you after practice, his hand on your lower back, gripping the ends of your sweatshirt, afraid that you’d disappear if he let go. 

“You’ve been a bit different, lately.” You said, keeping your eyes straight ahead, eyes being aware of the ones still in the building. 

“Different how?” Sunghoon asked, his fingers gripping your sweatshirt even tighter. 

You shrugged, “It’s like you are here but not.” 

Your words hit Sunghoon hard. It made him realize how distant he had been. How more aware he’s been over another male than you, the love of his life. 

“YN, I’m—“ 

“There you are!” 

Sunghoon tightened his jaw. 

Heeseung jogged down the hall until he stood in front of you, “Heeseung,” you smiled, and it killed Sunghoon, “You were looking for me?” 

“Yes,” He smiled back, flickering his eyes over your shoulder, staring directly at Sunghoon. 

He can’t see me…can he? 

Heeseung flicked his eyes back to you and smiled wider. Yeah he can’t see Sunghoon, “I was wondering if you’d like to have dinner with me?” 

“Say no,” Sunghoon said quickly, fighting every muscle in his body from pulling you towards him. 

Heeseung’s muscles in his jaw twitched and Sunghoon could have sworn he saw his ears perk up too, “I just want to thank you for everything you’ve done to help me, being the newbie and all.” 

“Oh, of course!” you awkwardly giggled, reaching behind you in a manner of adjusting your clothing but shoving Sunghoon’s grip on it off, “Thank you, that’s nice of you.” 

“YN,” Sunghoon whispered, “Please don’t go.” 

It was hard to act as if Sunghoon wasn’t behind you. To not react to his pleas, “You don’t have a boyfriend, right?” Heeseung asked, quickly looking at Sunghoon and glancing back at you. 

Did you have a boyfriend? Would whatever you had with Sunghoon count as a relationship? He’s technically dead, was it possible to date a ghost? 

“YN,” Sunghoon whispered your name again. 

You decided on saying nothing and just slowly shook your head, “Let’s just go get something to eat! I’m starving.” 

Before Sunghoon could reach out for you, Heeseung had his hand on your lower back, pulling you along. And the smirk Heeseung flashed over his shoulder when you weren’t looking sent a chill down the ghost’s body. 

There was no way Heeseung couldn’t see him. 

“Sunghoon,” you moan his name as he pounded into you. 

He’d be lying if he told you he wasn’t extremely pissed off that you went to dinner with Heeseung last night. Pissed off over the fact he knew Heeseung could see him, hear him, and knew the feeling he had for you and still made it a point to ask you out. How fucking dare he? 

“Hmm, want to act like a slut huh?” Sunghoon breathed in your ear, gripping his fingers deeper into your hips, “Think just because I can’t leave this building means you can fuck around with someone else?” 

You shook your head, hands gripping tightly to the edge of the vanity he had you bent over against, “Hoonie no, you know why I did it.” 

“Hmm, do I?” he bucked into you harder, your jaw falling slack and wet moans escaping your orifice, “Seems like to me you rather be with him.” 

“No no!” you chanted, pressing your face against the cool mirror, “I only want you. I only want you.” 

Sunghoon knew you only wanted him. He could see it written all over your face every single time he saw you. But that didn’t stop the raging jealousy he felt. And the hatred he felt. 

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, flinging his head back and letting the wet sounds of his cock being buried in your pussy over and over again fill his ears. Sunghoon didn’t think it would even be possible to have sex let alone get his dick hard. But the moment he walked in on you changing after tonight’s practice his desire flooded him. And obviously seeing him get so worked up over you sent you clinging your thighs together. 

“Hoonie,” you breathe his nickname, “Fuck, Sunghoon!” 

“Hmmm, what baby? Tell me what you want huh?” he said slowing down his pace to an undesirable amount, causing you to fuck yourself against him. 

“Please,” you cried. 

“Please, wh-” Before Sunghoon could finish his words, out of the corner of his eye he saw the door creak open, barely being able to see the silhouette of the person on the other side of the fogged-over glass window. 

Sunghoon smirked, picking his pace back up again, making sure he had you screaming and the mirror hitting the wall behind it. 

“Please what, baby?” he growled, “Wanna cum? Is that it?” 

You nodded, “Please let me cum,” 

Sunghoon’s smirk grew, “Tell me you love me,” squeezed your hips, slamming you down even harder on him, “Say how good I fuck you and no other dick can satisfy you, not even Heeseung.” 

You winched at Heeseungs name, piecing together the puzzle of why Sunghoon had been acting so strange. He was jealous. Being protective. Possessive. And you found it so fucking hot. So hot you were spitting the words right back at him. 

“I’m in love with you,” it wasn’t what Sunghoon asked to hear, but you said it anyway, feeling the truth behind it with every syllable, “You fuck me so so so good and no one else can ever satisfy me. Only you, Sunghoon. Never Heeseung.” 

Sunghoon smiled. A smile that was full of love and confirmation that you were his. 

“Fuck, I love you so much,” he moans, towering over your body as he fucked into you, his hands now gripping the tops of your against the mirror, “Fuckkkkk, baby I need to cum. Cum with me. Fuck.” 

The dressing room was now filled with the sounds of your moans as a mixture of yours and Sunghoon’s cum dripping down your thighs. 

When Sunghoon looked back at the door, it was now closed again. 

Heeseung stood behind the stage, cracking his knuckles and stretching out his neck. It was opening night for the play everyone had been working so hard on. It was in between scenes. You were on stage singing a duet with another cast member beautifully for the crowd. Heeseung couldn’t help but smile. He’s had a crush on you since he laid eyes on you, and you never failed to amaze him. 

His smile slowly faded, “I was beginning to wonder when you’d approach me,” he tilted his head to the side, staring into a pair of deep brown eyes, “Park Sunghoon.” 

Sunghoon smirked, rocking on the heels of his boots and twisting his fingers behind his back, “You know who I am? I’m so touched.” 

Heeseung chuckled, “I knew who you were before I stepped foot into this theater,” Sunghoon raised his brows, urging him to continue, “You’re a big name in this town, such a shame what happened to you,” Heeseung fully faced him now, “Death by a stabbing to the left side of your abdomen, right? Went right through your ribs and punctured your lung.” 

Sunghoon was really starting to loathe this guy. 

“I knew you could also see me, there was no way.” 

Heeseung laughed, “At first I thought you were just following and watching our poor YN, until I realized anytime you looked at her…” his facial expression changed to a mixture of anger and jealousy, “She was looking right back at you.” 

Sunghoon tilted his head, “What? Jealous are we?”

Heeseung shrugged, “Maybe over the fact you got to fuck her.” 

Sunghoon was now getting angrier, “You heard her the other day, no one can satisfy her but me.” 

“Are you so sure?” Heeseung took a step forward, “You aren’t even alive.” 

Sunghoon clenched his jaw, “Fuck off.” 

Another step forward, “I bet I could fuck her so so so good,” another step, “Make her cum multiple times,” another step, “Hit all her sweet spots while I bend her over my bed,” and another, “Have her screaming my name so fucking loud she would forget who you even are.” One final step. 

Sunghoon narrowed his eyes, “You won’t fucking touch her.” 

Heeseung laughed, throwing his head back as the sound echoed against the walls. He flung his head back up, now narrowing his eyes back at Sunghoon, “At least she’ll be able to actually have a life with me.” 

Sunghoon’s body twitched. Heeseung took one last step. 

And he was right where Sunghoon wanted him. 

Heeseung barely blinked before Sunghoon was now standing in front of him, faces barely inches apart. Blood filled his mouth, hands gripping Sunghoon’s wrists, “You damn bastard.” 

Sunghoon looked down at his work, seeing the beautiful blade pushed into Heeseung. Right between the ribs and puncturing his left lung, “Ain’t so fun, is it?” 

Heeseung’s knees grow weak, barely holding himself up and eventually dropping to the floor. Sunghoon followed him down, pushing the blade deeper into his body. 

Blood spilled out of his mouth, bloody hands now falling to the floor, “You want to know what is so damn funny?” Sunghoon chuckled, glancing around the back of the stage room, “This is the exact same spot I was murdered all that time ago.” 

Heeseung’s eyes widened, “Well, aren’t you one for an aesthetic.” 

Sunghoon leaned closer to his face, “No, I just wanted to kill you. It just happened to be right where I was killed.” 

It was Sunghoon’s turn to laugh, feeling Heeseung’s blood caking his hands. Is this how his killer felt? The adrenaline rush of hearing skin rip apart by a blade. Feeling the blade graze past two ribs. The feeling of his blood staining his hands. 

Oh, the rush. The excitement. Now he knew why people committed such crimes. 

“Huh,” Sunghoon said with realization, “Full circle. Funny shit.” 

“You’re fucking insane!” Heeseung snapped. 

“Shhhh!” Sunghoon pressed a bloodied finger to Heeseung’s lips, “You’re going to miss the finale of YN’s beautiful voice. 

Heeseung gritted his teeth, his vision fading as he focused on your voice. 

“I’m going to fuck that mouth later.” 

Heeseung jolted forward, using what small strength he had to lift his hands to grasp Sunghoon’s sleeve, “You’re a real piece of shit!” 

Sunghoon shrugged, “I’m the only one good enough for her.”

“You aren’t even alive,” Heeseung said again through gritted teeth. 

Sunghoon slowly pushed the blade in deeper, “I don’t give a shit,” he chuckled, “I’m still as alive as can be because of her.” 

Heeseung’s vision faded more, black spots forming around Sunghoon. He wasn’t going to last much longer. 

He dropped his head to the floor, right at the moment the final echoes of your singing voice bounced off the walls, “I’m going to fucking haunt you.”

“Oh, Heeseung,” Sunghoon cooed with a tilt of his head, “This theater can hold only one fucking bastard.” 

With a final push of the blade in deeper, the color of Heeseung’s eyes faded, body going completely still. 

Sunghoon stood up and backed away from Heeseung’s dead body, taking in his kill. Voices of the cast members appeared from behind him, then screams echoed off the walls. 

“Someone call an ambulance!!!” 

Sunghoon kept his smirk, slowly wiping the dried blood against his pants. 

He slowly turned around, seeing you standing in the doorway. You looked beautiful in the tight-fitted purple dress, hugging your body to show off your curves. So beautiful with the way your hair is curled and pinned to the back of your head. 

Everything about you was beautiful. 

Even the way your eyes filled with tears as you took in your friend's dead body. 

Your eyes shot to your lover, seeing Heeseung’s blood stain his clothing and hands. The tears streamed down your face as you stared so deeply into his eyes. 

Sunghoon’s smirk grew bigger, slowly walking over to you, “What’s wrong, baby?” he whispered, cupping your face between his hands. The smell of the blood filled your senses, stomach turned at the very thought of how it would stain your skin. 

Sunghoon killed Heeseung. 

“I did this for us,” he forced you to look at him and away from the dead body, “I couldn’t let him take you away from me.” You let out a small whimper, “Oh, baby,” he shushed, “It’s okay. I’m right here. I love you.” 

You were at a loss for words as Sunghoon pulled you to his body, holding you tightly. 

No one was ever going to take you from him.

—tags: @alvojake @ikeuverse @woniebae @shawnyle @jwnghyuns

@in-somnias-world @zyvlxqht @aaa-sia @wonniethepoo @addictedtohobi

@eneiyri @skzenhalove @fakeuwus @cherry-park @vousty

@ladyartemesia @criminalyun @enhaverse713586 @wondipity @lhsvibez

@jaeyunq @rikizm @kaykay11sworld @vixialuvs @onlyhyunjin

@enha-cafe @ppanghoon @sunpov @zeeloveshee @hxxsxxng

@moonrisearies @brownsugarbaybee @nshmrarki @vveebee @teddybeartaetae

@kookify @abysofsteel @aileeeeeeeeeeeee @hee-lvrr @1309zip

@moon0fthenight @jakeflvrz @021894s @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @surrik-i

@heeseungsbm @niki-riki-nishimura-riki @star-hoon

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Can you do headcanons for a young child reader who constantly follows jax around, loves physical affection, and thinks jax is their 'dad'?

(Obviously this request is plantonic, not romantic!)

I think I might've went a little overboard with this one! Way longer than most of my posts but I guess that isn't really a bad thing ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Jax unwillingly becomeing a parent

★ His first and only question was how the hell did a four year old get in this situation. The headset should have been way out of reach for you. Questions that will never be answered, I guess.

★ After making you cry the first time he spoke to you he tried to steer clear of you. That worked out horribly because you seemed to want to always be near him. Much to everyone's confusion.

★ "oh my! Looks like the little one has taken an interest in you!" Was Cain's response to seeing you huddled up near Jax. At some point he gets a child harness to keep you in his line of sight. It's just easier this way.

★ By the way he didn't mean to make you cry, he just didn't know how young you were and said something he would've said to an adult. Kids cry easily, what are you gonna do?

★ Jax stole a few pillows from Kinger for you to sleep with. Yes, you don't technically need to sleep but he's not going to tell you that. Nap time is one of the only times he can get a moment to himself.

★ He gets beyond pissed when you get woken up during nap time. To the point where he's barely keeping it together and wants to beat whoever woke you up with a chair leg.

★ If you want to be picked up, then he's picking you up. It doesn't matter if he's talking to somebody or doing something. You'll get picked up while he's doing something and without missing a beat he'll continue like nothing happened.

★ Instead of giving you the usual Jax treatment, he just tells you the most outlandish lies while trying to convince you that they are true. Sometimes he tells you something that sounds so true you don't question his bullshit.

There's a list of things he's told you!

If you push down on Ragatha's nose it will make a honking noise.

There's a secret room hidden in a closet filled with veggies for people who are allergic to meat.

Birds aren't real.

When he was your age, he was a year older. (It took you a moment to figure that one out)

Caine is the tooth fairy.

★ Jax isn't known for his empathy, but he does feel conflicted when you talk about small details from your life before meeting him. What color your house was, the lullabies your mother sang and the books you used to be read. It all makes him think.

★ You're family might be looking for you, not knowing where you are and that you're trapped. Do you even realize this? They probably think you're dead, that something terrible happened to you. Those thoughts make his stomach sink.

★ If he cares about you this much he can only imagine the grief your family feels. You will forever be a blissfully ignorant child not knowing the truth of what's really going on.

[teaboot]

hey teaboot, have you ever been "canceled"/"called out" in certain tumblr circles for being a security guard?

for the record im not against you being a security guard or anything but i was just curious, cause i work in a museum but im scared to talk to people about it because i wouldn't want to anger anyone who believes in abolishing GLAM (galleries, libraries, archives, and museums) so im always curious to hear how other people feel about their professions :) thanks and i love your blog!

Oh, yeah, totally! Kind of a lot, actually.

And I sorta get it, honestly- we're living in some pretty major times of injustice and people SHOULD be suspicious of anyone operating in a position of authority- I've met some real shithead guards and cops, and I'd rather people film and question me and know that they're filming and questioning the shitheads, too, than have everyone in my community see a uniform and just assume everything is peachy.

Not so say that suspicion justifies threats and abuse, but like. Idk, I can see why it happens. I get the perspective, even if I don't agree with it.

And Im not gonna lie, there's been a few super gnarly threats, too? But like. Idk what to tell you. I figure a lot of it is just cause I've got a lot of people looking at this blog already? Bigger numbers means bigger chances, maybe?

But what the hell???? Abolishing LIBRARIES??? And GALLERIES?? ARCHIVES??? I sorta see the angle with museums seeing how a lot of shit is stolen but like. LOCAL museums with donated shit? Museums that DO get stuff with permission? Places with replicas? And who the fuck wants LIBRARIES gone???? That's some crazy shit, dude. Wild

But to answer your question, I guess it falls under the same umbrella as everything else we share online- don't divulge anything you wouldn't want used against you, right?

Sorry I can't help more, bud. But keep on trucking, yeah? Best of luck

[drchucktingle]

Hello Dr Tingle! I wanted to ask you about that re: your post about how all your books are serious literature (hell yeah Love is real). How do you personally deal with the whole traditional publishing institution? It attracts a whole different level of coverage and it seems that they're very quick to try and box you and like turn you into a brand. Is it stiffling? Is it freeing? Does the attention help more people understand your trot? I don't know I've never been published but since you have experience in both traditional and self publishing I'm interested in knowing how that's feeling for you

well this is a pretty complex question with lots of different trots but i will try my best to answer. lets start with WHO I AM as buckaroo name of chuck

what i create has a very strong voice and my way is pretty recognizable. while buckaroos do not know what most authors look like, i REALLY stand out in a dang crowd with a big pink bag on my head. if you see 50 random author photos and mine is mixed in and then you ask 'which photo do you remember the most?' it is probably gonna be chuck. i also have a VERY UNIQUE STORY with what i create and my artistic sensibilities, not a lot of buds are out there making trans mothman erotica along with their big five traditional publishing bestsellers (SIDENOTE preorder BURY YOUR GAYS)

now if you were going to take 'CHUCK TINGLE' to a marketing department they would FALL OVER BACKWARDS IN THEIR DANG CHAIR with excitement. it is hard to think of an author with a stronger BRAND than i already have in the sense of 'instantly recognizable trot and specific unique style'. even in answering this you can tell that i dont even TALK like other dang authors.

what i am getting at is this: i am VERY VERY LUCKY because my existence just so happens to equate to what a company would see as GOOD BRANDING. it is not intentional on my part, it is just the hand of fate i guess. im out here expressing myself in a FULL ON WAY that is PRETTY DANG STRANGE TO SOME and it just so happens to work as mainstream branding too

on paper you might think 'what the heck no way chuck tingle will fly as a mainstream trot' but honestly the main thread of this timeline can be surprising sometimes. ive been saying the key ingredient for years and i will say it again: LOVE AND SINCERITY RESONATE. when you make art with this fuel, the timeline will feel it. when you stand up tall and shout with your whole chest THIS IS MY WAY AND I LOVE MYSELF. I AM THE WORLDS GREATEST AUTHOR TAKE IT OR LEAVE IT, the timeline will listen

so all that said, i do not mind the idea of myself as 'brand' because i am not CHANGING myself to create this effect. what some might see as 'brand' i just see as another part of my art. i have always believed that art is THE WHOLE EXPERIENCE not just the painting but what is outside of the frame. WHO I AM is just as important as the books i write, and interacting with my way is a whole MULTIMEDIA experience that INCLUDES YOU TOO. it is the feeling when your friend shows you your first tingler cover, or the feeling when you realize that i am not playing a character. this is ALL a part of the tingleverse and it is all a part of my honest raw expression as a queer and neurodivergent buckaroo.

YOU ARE PART OF THIS ART TOO

it is my nature of have a PUNK ROCK trot. always has been. but to me that does not mean just angrily going against everything for the sake of going against everything. for me, this punk rock trot means fighting to EXPRESS MYSELF IN THE MOST HONEST AND PURE FORM POSSIBLE and to create the art that i want to make without any boundaries

somehow i have threaded the needle in this really interesting once-in-a-dang-lifetime kind of way. my pure punk rock self as an OUTERSIDER ARTIST just so happens to resonate with this larger system of brand and traditional publishing and popular culture. i COULD reject this, but rejecting it would be LESS HONEST.

this is just who i am. i LIKE pop culture. i LIKE joy. i LIKE dressing in all pink and wearing my custom suits. I LIKE PROVING LOVE IS REAL WHAT THE HECK ELSE EVEN IS THERE? i love being a queer outsider artist and using my small voice to shout at the big bad devils and i like that every time i shout a few more of you buckaroos join the chorus and together we are just getting louder and louder and louder and WHO KNOWS what comes next for us all trotting together.

when i post something like 'WHAT A GREAT DAY TO PROVE LOVE' it is not me sitting here in a bad mood thinkin 'well i gotta make todays post to keep up with my brand'. i am ACTUALLY FEELING THAT FEELING and i actually believe it with every fiber of my being. honestly, half the time i post about the beauty of this timeline i am probably over here literally crying tears of joy (chuck is an emotional bud i get riled over the joy of existence A LOT)

and heres the best part of this trot: because i really have this punk rock way it makes me very powerful. others can pretend not to care about success and brand and all that but I REALLY DO NO CARE. i would write tinglers whether buds were reading them or not, this is just my natural state, and that makes me incredibly strong. if some big corporation says 'YOU MUST DO THIS' and i dont want to do it i just say 'no thanks'. it is not some big debate about my career or anything like that because I REALLY DO NOT CARE IN THE SLIGHTEST. i care about the art

because of this, my relationship with my GIANT TRADITIONAL PUBLISHING MACHINE is great. we trot like equals and we get along really well. i tell them exactly what i want to do and they let me do it. i really do not have to answer to anyone and they deserve a huge amount of credit for respecting me in this way.

and heres the thing, THEY ALSO HAVE SOME GREAT IDEAS

SPECIFICALLY my imprint of NIGHTFIRE is very dang cool. yes, they are the head of a giant hydra of a BIG FIVE PUBLISHER, but nightfire is SO DANG ART-FOCUSED

there is no right or wrong way to be an artist, and my path is not the only one, but i can tell you what WORKS FOR ME. this is the advice i would give myself, and buckaroos can take it or leave it

here it is: never beg the big book publisher, or record label, or movie studio to pay attention to you

do not let it become a lotto ticket in your brain. do not think that you are some weak little creature and maybe if you trot just right they will scoop you up and take care of you. do not go to their door begging to be let in

LET THEM COME TO YOUR DOOR

create something so incredible and beautiful and honest and powerful and unique and important that they would be foolish to miss out. create a community or a system or a timeline or a world of imagination that thrives on its own and THEY SHOULD BE SO LUCKY TO BE A PART OF IT

then when you sit down at that board meeting it is not 'please brand me, ill do whatever you want'. instead, it is 'lets make a deal and see how much love we can prove together.'

now lets trot buckaroos

[sunshineandspencer]

Cowboy hat rule (Tyler Owens, Twisters)

A/N: Take a guess, what movie do you think I watched recently? I’ll give you a hint, it wasn’t Deadpool and Wolverine (I also watched that, but I preferred the man with the swirly winds).

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Fem!Reader.

Summary: In between butting heads with Javi’s team and running a successful YouTube channel based entirely around tornadoes, Tyler Owens is introduced to the most interesting woman he’s seen in a good while - and her sister.

Word Count: 521

Warnings: fluff, kind of suggestive (cowboy hat rule), drinking and minor worries of drink being spiked but it doesn't happen we’re all okay here, very limited knowledge of America (I’m English).

Parts: Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

I have redone the form for the taglist now that I’m apparently expanding from Criminal Minds

How she ended up drinking with them, she had no idea. But anything was better than dealing with her sister pretending not to make goo-goo eyes at Javi.

Now, she’s up on the top of Tyler’s truck, drinking a shit beer with a peeling label and questioning whether or not these people would drug her. 

The bloke with the camera seems alright, and the tornado wrangler was more focused on whatever he’s messing with than her. 

One of the girls, Lily- maybe, tapped her legs, grinning up at her. 

“So~ which part of New York are you from?”

Maybe the beer is drugged, maybe it’s turning her senses to mush. Or maybe it’s been too long since she had piss-poor beer and decent company.

“Alpine.”

Lily - again, maybe - blinked up at her and then laughed, standing up on the side of the truck to smack the side of her thigh playfully.

Not only that, but Mr Tall, Plaid and Dangerous finally looked up. 

“Come on— even I know that’s in Texas.”

“And that’s where I’m from, Alpine, Texas. I hide the twang, I’ve been too many guy’s fantasies in bars that it’s just easier.”

Giving a wink before swigging the last of her beer. Feeling a tap on her shoulder, she leant back on her forearms, making sure she didn’t lie back on anything. 

Tyler was grinning at her, that stupid grin that pairs a little too well with that cowboy hat for her fuzzy brain to think straight. 

“Not a city girl?”

“Uh huh, daddy ran a ranch, grew up schooling cowboys like you. You’re no different.”

He seemed impressed by that; maybe not impressed. Just marginally more interested now he knows they aren’t a pair of bored blonde women from the city come to chase the storms with the fancy company. 

Nothing worse than someone who doesn’t actually respect the weather they’re chasing - that’s how people die. 

“Me? How am I no different then, Alpine?”

Humming, she passed him her empty bottle, which he took without questioning it. Eyes somehow glittering beneath the brim of that hat. 

She needs that hat, before his eyes, his smile and his goddamn cologne do her in.

“You steal something near and dear to them- make them pay real close attention to you.”

Managing to swipe the hat from his head and place it firmly on her own, fighting the smug grin on her face. 

She knows that he knows that she knows exactly what that means.

Can’t claim ignorance now, she made it loud and clear that this is not her first rodeo. He may wrangle tornadoes, but what the hell is he supposed to do when a gorgeous woman steals his hat and pushes away. 

Getting Lily to help her down and then swinging an arm over her shoulders. 

“Let’s go find more beers, Lils, I love your shirt by the way.”

Turning back around to grin at him as Lily starts talking. Flicking the brim of the cap up so that he could see the way her eyebrow raised in challenge. 

Oh yeah, he definitely has a favourite sister now.

Want more?! Good!

[fallstaticexit]

Prev / Next / Beginning / Pillowfort

Transcript under the cut

Geoffrey: So, our anniversary is coming up. I was thinking maybe we could plan a getaway. Somewhere really nice. What do you think? Nancy?

[Nancy snores lightly]

Nancy Narrates: [It was all starting to wear on me-]

Geoffrey: [softly] Goodnight Nance. I love you.

Nancy: [murmurs] m ‘love you...Vanessa.

Nancy Narrates: [Having to balance the many sides of me]

Nancy Narrates: [There was the Nancy that was a Theta]

Nancy Narrates: [The Nancy that was free]

Nancy Narrates: [The Nancy that was an honest, loving girlfriend]

Geoffrey: Date night tonight?

Nancy: I- have a thing with the Thetas. Maybe another night?

Geoffrey: You know, I’m happy you’re putting yourself out there. I’m proud of you.

Extra Loud Stereo Plays: Do Me! - Bell Biv Devoe

Take a good look at me Tell me do you like what you see

Do you think you can Do you think you can do me

Kiss me pretty baby And touch me all over

Girl what makes you think you can do me Do you think you can do me girl?

Do me baby (x2)

-

Geoffrey: Hey, you ever wondered what happened to Vanessa?

Bob: Vanessa? Vanessa Villareal?

Geoffrey: Yeah. When we came back from break, she just- vanished.

Bob: Yeah, that was crazy, huh? I talked to Cassie about it once. She said it reminded her of that whole Angela thing that happened junior year.

Geoffrey: What Angela thing?

Bob: You don’t know about the Angela thing!?

Geoffrey: [chuckles] No one told me about it! It was like a urban legend.

Bob: Vanessa and her mean girl squad ganged up on her and started bullying her because they thought she was a lesbian or something.

Geoffrey: No way. Was she?

Bob: I dunno. I mean, she was always hanging on to Vanessa. I guess that’s where the rumors started. Anyway, Cassie thinks maybe people were starting to talk about her and Nancy. They were close too.

Geoffrey: What? Why didn’t you guys tell me?

Bob: Dude, it’s just gossip. We can’t know for sure that’s what happened. Vanessa was always getting sent to the office, she probably got expelled.

Geoffrey: Yeah...

Bob: Are you ok, man?

Geoffrey: I think maybe that’s why Nancy’s been so down all this time. I think she misses Vanessa.

Bob: Probably, friendships between women are really intense.

-

Darling: [groans] I can’t believe I have class in 5 hours. I’m screwed.

Nancy: [laughs] Who told us to throw a rager on a Thursday?

Darling: Hey, we’re still in better shape than those two over there.

Nancy: The Thetas? More like tea parties.

Darling: [laughs] Hell nah.

Nancy: Should we check if they have a pulse?

Darling: [chuckles] Man, they can’t handle their liquor for shit.

Nancy: Did you meet them through the club?

Darling: Morgan chased me down to do a tarot reading one day.

Nancy: Ah. She got you too, did she?

Darling: I kinda like that stuff, you know, like zodiac signs and all that. Tells you alot about a person. Speaking of, what’s your sign?

Nancy: I have no idea. Maybe I’m a Pisces?

Darling: When’s your birthday?

Nancy: January 17th.

Darling: Huh, no shit? You’re a Capricorn. I’m a Virgo.

Nancy: What does that mean?

Darling: For one, means we’re compatible.

Nancy: Oh? How can you tell?

Darling: We’re both earth signs, means we grounded. We want the real thing.

Nancy: I don’t know what I want.

Darling: I think you do though. I think you don’t want to say it.

Nancy: What don’t I want to say?

Darling: You tell me.

Nancy: Well. I guess... I guess I have alot of questions.

Darling: Like what? Keep it real, it’s just me.

Nancy: Well.. How do you know that you’re- you know.

Darling: What, into girls? I’ve always known.

Nancy: But how do you know for sure?

Darling: I was probably born this way. I never looked at guys the way I look at women. I love everything about them. I love the way they smell, the way they feel. I’m probably crazy about them. It’s wired in my brain.

Nancy: Have you ever kissed a girl?

Darling: [chuckles]

Nancy: Don’t laugh...

Darling: You’re right, you’re right, my bad. Yeah, Nancy. I’ve done alot more than kissing though.

Nancy: Oh. You mean...like sex?

Darling: Yeah. Like sex.

Darling: Oh. I guess that means you’re done asking questions.

Nancy: ....What is it like?

Darling: Kissing?

Nancy: I know about kissing. I mean [clears throat] the sex. With a girl. What does it feel like?

Darling: You really wanna know?

Nancy: Well. I asked, didn’t I?

Darling: Alright. Give me your hand.

Darling: You wanna know?

Nancy: [swallows] Mhm..

[xoxochb]

— I walked with you once upon a dream

warnings: implications of sex, the ending is super rushed pairing: percy jackson x daughter of hypnos

It wasn’t enough, it was never enough. so real but so fake, dreams were your specialty as a daughter of hypnos and you should’ve been able to control them but when it came to dreaming about your best friend— and you knew it was wrong— you couldn’t help but keep them. they differentiated every night from innocent dreams, simple but fulfilling, calming, to one such as tonight’s. two slick bodies combined as one, pleasant moans filling the room. how badly you wished it had been real, and how badly you wished you could finish the dream, a shaking to your shoulder awoke you though, when your eyes flutter open they catch sight of blond curls, an unpleasant glare is thrown to your brother

“what do you want, clovis?”

he shrugs. “lunch”

“you woke me up for fucking lunch?”

“yes”

“you are such a child. give me ten minutes”

you throw your cozy blankets off and push clovis away so you could have access to your dresser. you would only be wearing a simple outfit today— your regular camp shirt with a pair of silly pajama pants adorned with clouds. you continue your morning routine then meet back up with clovis at cabin fifteen as you put your slippers on and head to the dining pavilion. when you arrive your brother plops down onto his table, ultimately forgetting his previous hunger as he falls into a deep slumber. you sit down beside him for when he awakes and questions why he had chosen here of all places to fall asleep (and you surely wouldn’t have an answer)

your mind drifts back to the dream you had been previously interrupted during— just at the very best part of it too. your eyes drift around the pavilion with many campers, your eyes stop when they meet the same sea green ones you had been thinking off. you blush furiously and turn away, now meeting with gray eyes. annabeth seats herself across from you

“I’ve got news”

“about?”

“percy”

you shake your head. “I don’t want to hear it. things have already been weird between us”

“(name), listen to me. you’re gonna want to hear this”

you sigh and throw up your hands dramatically. “tell me then, since it’s so important”

“he dreamt about you this morning. I remember you telling me about how you’ve been dreaming about him so I think it’s weird that he’s been dreaming about you too. basically what I’m saying—”

her rambling is cut off by loud thoughts wandering your mind. It was odd how it just so happens the same morning you have a dream about percy he has a dream about you. or maybe it was just nothing. or maybe it was. you were a daughter of hypnos, therefore meaning you could manipulate other peoples dreams so what if you had been giving him these dreams you both shared? but what if you’re just overthinking things? that’s it! isn’t it? you sure hope so because your friendship with percy had been weird enough lately with these dreams escalating, and now that you think about it he had been acting pretty weird himself…

“(name) are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

you snap out of your thoughts and nod your head. “yes! I don’t think it’s anything, you’re just overreacting”

“okay, then go talk to him”

“uhm…” you scan your brain for a quick response “I’m watching clovis, I can’t right now”

“I can watch clovis for you!”

damn annabeth and her genius mind. she flashes you an innocent smile and ushers you up from your seat and to the cabin three table. much to your dismay percy watches your every step towards him. your heart beats a million miles per minute, you’re sure this is ridiculous— he’s your best friend, shouldn’t you feel comfortable around him? what the hell are you even supposed to say to him? guess your mouth is deciding that for you

“annabeth sent me over here. uhm, but I was going to come over here anyways because clovis is sleeping so I’ll be here forever and— I’m rambling, sorry. can I sit?”

you take notice of percy’s pink cheeks and nervous demeanor. choosing to ignore that, once he nods you sit across him

“so… annabeth sent you over?”

“well, yeah, kinda. I was going to watch clovis but she said she could while I came to sit with you. but you know annabeth she kind of forced me out of there”

there was a moment of silence before percy begins to speak, “so how have you been? we haven’t really seen each other in a while”

“tired, mostly. you know me”

his face reddens now. “I’ve been pretty tired too”

“guess we’re more similar than we think”

so much for acting casual about the dreams. you stand up from the seat, deciding this isn’t happening. “I’m going to take clovis back to the cabin. I’ll see you later?”

oh you most definitely will not

⋆˚✿˖°

over the following nights you’ve had at least two of these dreams a night which was far more than usual which consisted of half a dream or only one full dream. this is how you find yourself laying awake in the middle of the night after a particularly rough dream. It was ironic that a child of hypnos was struggling this much to just fall asleep, most of your siblings could be out within seconds of their head hitting the pillow, however you, had been the opposite. perhaps this was a curse from your father

you weren’t sure how you found yourself at the door to cabin three. maybe you had sleep-walked there, you’d surely seen many of that over your years at camp. you suck in a deep breath as your hand collides with the wooden door. on the other side you hear footsteps, then the door opening, percy on the opposite side, and gods you would be lying if you said this wasn’t the sexiest sight you’ve ever seen: his hair was disheveled and he had silly ocean themed pjs, little tiny fish imprinted over his shirt

“sorry, did I wake you?”

embarrassment creeps into your senses and you’re sure your face had been red by now

“no, I was awake”

oh gods his voice makes your knees weak. you swallow hard and let him continue

“do you want to come in?”

“please”

you— far to eagerly— enter the cabin after percy, closing the door behind you. although many times throughout your friendship (before the dreams had begun, that’s when you stopped) you had slept in the same bed with him, this time felt different, this time was different. percy lays on his back, hands resting in his stomach while you lay on your side admiring facing him. maybe your sleepiness was the reason for your vulnerability and willing to expose your secrets. though wasn’t this a reason for the night? you’d say things you’d surely regret in the morning

“have you been having the dreams?” you whisper

you didn’t need to elaborate, percy himself had been pondering asking you before your mouth opened and said it before his. “every night”

you sigh before answering. “I’m sorry, it was-”

“don’t apologize”

“but it’s weird. don’t you think I’m weird for dreaming about you?”

“I dreamt about you too, remember?” percy takes your hand from your side and holds it in his, inching to your level so you’re face to face

“I really like you, percy”

“can I kiss you?”

you don’t respond, but slot your lips with his at last. after many nights dreaming of this nothing could ever compare to the real thing. you’d find moments later not only the kiss was incomparable

[itsthatmff]

Watching a Horror Movie with their S/O

Included: Genos, Saitama, King, Garou, Metal bat, Zombieman

Some longer headcanons for you guys~

This turned out more chaotic than I had envisioned it, enjoy !

gn!reader

Genos(with a s/o who isn’t scared at all)

Genos was the one to suggest on watching a horror movie together because he wanted to do “Social activities” with you. He once read during his daily web browsing, that watching horror movies with people that are important to you is a nice thing to do in your free time.

You both got Popcorn, snacks and blankets that day and watched “The ring” together at your apartment.

You honestly didn’t really feel like watching a movie, especially since you already watched that movie twice.

But Genos seemed so excited to spend time with you that you just couldn’t say no.

It began pretty chill, you both were looking at the screen while eating your snacks. Genos talked about how he never watched a Horror movie because he didn’t see the point in them.

Later, when the first jumpscare popped up, you weren’t really surprised. Genos on the other hand looked very much confused.

“I do not understand, Why did she jump up to the screen?”

“So that you get scared, silly”

Later, he started asking more questions and you answered them instead of paying attention to the movie. And after a while the “movie night” turned into more of a chit chat since you both lost interest to watch the movie.

“Y/N, I must admit that listening to your soothing voice is better than watching a horror movie. My suggestion wasn’t that good after all”

Saitama (with an S/O who’s scared shitless)

Ever since Saitama got promoted onto rank B, you finally had some time to spend together as he didn’t have to patrol every day.

You decided that watching a movie at theaters would be great and left the ticket purchasing to Saitama as you bought the popcorn and nachos for both of you.

Little did you know that Saitama had gotten tickets for a horror movie. And little did he know that you were frightened by them.

You didn’t realize that the movie you had entered in was a horror movie way until 10 minutes into screening.

Sitting down on the comfortable armchair and munching on your popcorn, the sudden eerie music and the creepy hall made you halt.

“Saitama..what kind of movie is this..?”

“A horror movie.”

“Oh.”

Saitama casually continued eating his nachos when he suddenly felt you grab onto his arm. He looked at you confused.

“No way, are you scared?”

All you could do was nodd as you were closing your eyes.

Saitama felt kind of proud on one hand to have you cling onto him like that, but he set his ego aside.

“We can leave if you want to, I heard this movie is shit anyways.”

You didn’t wanna ruin your movie date like this, but you really couldn’t stand being here for another second.

Once you guys had left the theaters you apologized to him, but all he did was take your hand and give you a small smile.

“It’s fine, cmon. The fact that we left earlier means we can still catch the sale going on at the supermarket.”

King (with a s/o who loves horror movies)

King already shits his pants when seeing a monster, So I guess he Ain’t a big fan of horror movies either.

You asked him once after playing videogames if he wanted to watch a Movie with you and he agreed, not expecting anything.

At that night you both sat down and you decided to watch IT. It hadn’t even gone through your mind that the movie wasn’t watchable because it really wasn’t that scary in your opinion.

And King on the other hand couldn’t say no to watching a horror movie because he would’t want to upset you by showing his weaknesses.

When the movie began he already was shaking inside, and you didn’t notice until the first jumpscare popped up and he began sweating like hell.

“I’ll go to the toilet real quick Y/N”

A good 10 minutes had passed and he still hadn’t returned, which made you realize that he probably had gotten scared.

It was not too long after that he returned, ready to face the next gruesome 2 hours of his life, but there was no horror movie to be found.

Instead, he saw his favorite game playing on the screen, with you laying on your stomach and holding the controller.

“Y/N..what’s this?”

“I didn’t feel like watching the movie anymore. Playing video games is much more fun.”

A little smile crept upon him, he was very grateful to have such an understanding S/O.

“Sure, but don’t complain if you loose for the 2000th Time.”

Garou (with an overdramatic S/O)

You loved to tease Garou any chance you could take.

It was always fun to see him react to situations he’s never experienced before.

That day you begged Bang at the dojo if Garou could take off one day of his training to have a sleep over at yours.

At first he was skeptical, he knew how reckless the youth of today could be.

But you reassured him that it would be a movie night and no more.

With his approval you had your plan rolling.

Garou was never the overprotective type when it came to trivial things, he thought it was too cheesy and knew you were independent enough.

Once at your apartment, you put on the first horror movie you could see on netflix.

Garou made himself comfortable on the couch, spreading his legs and tilting his head back.

You sat next to him, just waiting for the first creepy thing to happen.

You know sometimes in the movie when theres this tension just to turn out that nothing happened? Like when they turn on a light and theres nothing in the room.

At such a moment you decided to go all out, cling your arms onto his waist and close your eyes.

Garou was cleaning his ear when he looked from the tv screen down to you in confusion.

“What the fuck are you doing Y/N. Nothing even happened.”

“It looked like a jump scare..”

He knew damn well you were being overdramatic on purpose again.

“I swear to god if this is one of your stupid games.”

Despite saying that, he still wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

In some scenes where even he got startled a little, he tightened his grip around you.

The plan had worked. And you had to hold back your grin to save your life.

“It wasn’t even that scary- hey, what the hell are you grinning for? You did this on purpose didn’t you?”

Badd (with an S/O who tries to act tough)

It was after school when Metal bat decided to take you out to the movies.

Everyone at school was talking about this new Horror movie that aired and of course as a good boyfriend he would want to spoil you and let you watch the movie so you could feel included at school.

You were indifferent with horror movies, they aren’t your favorites and you didn’t watch them often, but they certainly weren’t ‘too scary’ for you to watch.

As you both took your seats and the movie started, metal bat was already uninterested in what was going on in the movie. He was way more excited to be spending time with you. His gaze stuck on to you, he could see in what moments your eyes widened, when you flinched, when you laughed and when you felt scared.

It seemed like this movie was more scary than usual and it seemed that badd noticed your uneasiness.

His head rested on your shoulder,

“It’s just a movie.”

“I know.”

You knew, and still you felt uneasy. Though Badd’s assurance helped a lot. You combed through his hair as the movie progressed.

In the end, it did feel like the tension was worth it, as the ending of the movie turned out to be really good.

But that wasn’t the end of your date at all. Your boyfriend still had to spoil you rotten.

“Y/N, let’s grab food and go to karaoke afterwards, ya hear me?”

Zombieman (with a S/O who loves Horror Movie marathons)

Watching horror movies with Zombieman was a usual thing for you two to do.

Especially since you two loved the old Halloween franchise. You’d both be on the couch at his crib, him smoking his usual cigarettes, a good whiskey on the table as you two watched and discussed the movie.

It was a nice activity you two shared. And it was obvious Michael myers was Zombieman’s favorite.

The smell of cologne, cigarettes and whiskey, the dim lit living room and the screams coming from the tv. Thats what you liked to call a romantic evening.

Its only when the room is filled with smoke and he sees your drowsy eyes that he decided to finally end tonights marathon.

He put his last cigarette on the ashtray and turned off the tv.

“We’ve watched enough, haven’t we?”

That deep raspy voice could immediately send you to sleep.

“You’re surely different to please, Y/N. But that’s what I like about you.”

[alphajocklover]

Hey 😈 I wish someone would help me become a massive gay bodybuilding whore. I’m already on my way gaining weight, but I wanna be gigantic. Think you could help?

So you want to become, in your own words, a massive gay bodybuilding whore. That shouldn’t be too hard. As I’ve already shown you through my other post, there are numerous ways that people can get transformed into different types of jocks. The fact you want to specifically be a slutty gay jock does complicate things a little, since certain methods would turn you straight, but it’s still pretty simple. Instajock comes to mind as a good method for example, although I’ve talked about that app quite a bit recently and would rather discuss something new. There are many ways people can transform that I haven’t mentioned in the slightest, and your question actually brings up one I’ve been wanting to talk about for a long time. Mainly the emoji you used. Yep, for this transformation we’re going to get some help from someone very special: the Devil.

When I say the devil, I don’t really mean ‘The Devil’. Don’t get me wrong, he is a devil, but he’s not the devil from the bible. He just… works for him. I know that sounds bad, and honestly it definitely is. I don’t know much about the religious side of the magical world, but I do know that the Devil, with a capital D, does exist. He might be a fallen angel who wants to turn humanity to sin like from religious text, or he might just be a very powerful magical being using human religion to boost his own reputation, but either way he definitely exists. And just like in the old folk stories, he makes deals with people in exchange for their souls. Strangely, as the stories had spread and grown more prevalent, the demand for a deal with the Devil has actually skyrocketed. You’d think a bunch of stories about how making a deal for your soul is a bad idea would discourage people, but surprisingly it’s only increased business. Because of that the Devil’s operation has grown. The Devil is powerful, but he’s not god, he isn’t omniscient. So, to keep up with demand, he began to delegate. Instead of doing one deal at a time and seeing to every deal personally, he has a large team of demons that make deals for him. That's where my friend Nick comes in.

Nick isn’t his real name, but since humans can’t really pronounce his name he just lets me call him Nick. He is one of the more powerful demons working for the Devil, and specializes in making sexually explicit deals. As you can probably guess, he deals with a lot of people and has made a lot of deals. He’s not as outright evil as you might expect though, and he was actually a close friend of my Uncle. He had a sort of soft spot for my Uncle, and would often help him out with certain things. I don’t know how they met or why my Uncle seemed to be friends with a literal demon, but they got along really well. Now that my Uncle’s gone though, he helps me instead. I think he does it a bit out of guilt. He couldn’t protect my Uncle, his favorite mortal, from being turned into a jock, so now he protects me. Because of this I like to send him a willing victim now and then, as a thank you.

So, your first instinct is probably to say no. I mean, as much as you want to be a gay jock slut, you probably don’t want to sell your soul and be doomed to an eternity in hell. The thing is, these days they usually don’t ask for your soul. The Devil long figured out that there were more subtle ways to get what he wanted, so usually the contracts ask for something else. Sometimes it’s something significant, sometimes it’s almost nothing. Whatever it is usually works into his very complicated plans somehow in a way we almost can’t comprehend, but he never asks for your soul anymore. In exchange for becoming a massive gay bodybuilder jock, all Nick would require is… your car.

Yes, the devil wants your car. You’re probably wondering why, and honestly I don’t know. It’s not even a new car, and it’s kind of lame. But that's what he wants, and in exchange he’ll give you the body and mind of your dreams. I know you’re probably pretty skeptical, and If I’m being honest there probably is some sort of catch, but-

Oh! Ok, so, you’re doing it. I was expecting a bit more resistance but you seem pretty sure. Well, I do hope it works out for you. All you have to do is write your name on the contract and the deal will be sealed. Just write your name at the bottom there… and perfect! You’ve just made a deal with a devil!

I know you feel a little confused, but give it a second, it will pass. A sudden change in your body is always disorienting, but you’ll get used to the new you pretty quickly. I mean, look at you! You’re absolutely massive! Those arms, those pecs, those shoulders! God you really got a great deal. You get to live out your fantasy life, and all you had to do was get rid of a piece of shit car. I can’t be sure why he wanted it, but my best guess was that it’s going to cause a butterfly effect where, because your car didn’t cause a traffic jam when it broke down or something, something else will never happen. But there isn’t any use in dwelling on it anymore. You’ve made the deal, so fucking enjoy it! Go out there and have hot gay sex with as many guys as you can! You made a deal with the devil, you might as well get all you can out of it!

**hey everyone! Been a little bit! I’ve been kind of distracted and busy lately but I’m still alive and kicking! Hope you guys like this story and keep tuned for more! I also wanna make clear I am not trying to offend any religious group. I just love the deal with the devil idea.**

[directdogman]

Commenting on DT fan OCs!

Alright, I'mma take a look at some DT fan OCs! I've been sent quite a few, so I'll try to keep my comments for each one short 'n' sweet!

great name, snappy dresser. diggin' the bowtie! the pins are also a fun accessory!

Another snappy dresser! Tied well to an existing location in-game and the idea to explain the stickers is cute! attire is unique/memorable and the blues/browns compliment each other well. solid design. I do appreciate him!

Yo, this guy was in the last one! what is this, a crossover episode???

the bandage on side of face is a nice touch! digging the pinstripe pants too! graveyard shift at a convenience store is also quite an authentic job for a DT side character to have too! very nicely done.

Solid OC! well-drawn, unique job and her fit's stylish (it probably goes without saying that i'm a sucker for TV heads with dogs on them. that's gotta be a given, right?) The stickers on the back of the head are also a nice addition! well done!

Stanley's a real cad, huh? pizza delivery guy with a novelty pizza phone head is genius - making him flirt with milves on the job is just inspired though. i almost wish i'd come up with this guy, as i can totally imagine people around town talking about him. excellent job!!!

he's aptly named for an arcade dude! dig the fit too, especially the black + purple fingerless long sleeve gloves! the decals on the phone are neat too!

I approve of his activities but the lack of a visible mouth threw me off, since i've seen these old toy phones before, ofc.

i was about to ask "how does he drink ocean water without a mouth", before realizing that id been bamboozled into asking the fandom-favourite question of: 'how does he eat without a mouth?', only to then remember that practically no DT characters have visible mouths.

i hope you know that you've strained my weary brain today. cool OC, though.

banana phone's a fun concept! also, i must say your username's quite fitting. crept up on me from my peripheral as I gazed upon the banana phone, like a bizarre centipede of some sort. well, i'd assume so. in hindsight, most centipedes i've encountered have been pretty straightforward with me. i guess i should be grateful for that.

i like mary's fuzzy phone matching the trim of her dress but martin's really got my attention. cool name, neat quirk (he kills people, that takes moxie. hell, even pizzaz too, dare i say?) The dial being a lil clock is a neat touch since it ties his interest into the design. also quite like the cord tail matching the phone head's colour. solid design!

i like his head-type and the attire/pale skin gives a nice bit of contrast!

hard to say how randy'd feel about him, as someone who's only seen his design and 2 lines of dialogue (as someone's personality dictates randy's opinion on them far more than their appearance.) if you feel they'd get on though, you're probably correct! (randy isn't too picky, after all!)

Funnily enough, one of the earliest sketches for crown has a similar bolted plate stuck to a mostly intact phone head. it was even sticking from one of the sides. or corners. i'd have to dig up the notebook, as it's been like 4 years since I came up with the character. Sorry, just made me remember since the earliest sketches had one too.

Copper phone head's a neat idea. Contrasts well with his attire as well (nice and complimentary.) if only his attempts to deter jesse from the za worked out as well, eh?

Alright, that's it for me! thanks for the submissions, these were real creative! good job, everyone!

[denaliwrites]

Road to Hell

Crowley x GN!Reader

Summary: Of all the subjects Crowley thought he might walk in on you researching in the bookshop, demonology was probably at the bottom of the list.

Requests: Open!

Warnings: Crowley is a dick (affectionate).

"What're you reading today?" Crowley asked, towering over you with a contemplative look. You lifted the book for him to see and in return he offered a shocked choking sound in the back of his throat. "Demonology, huh? What... inspired you to read that?"

He hadn't told you anything about him and Aziraphale being a demon and an angel, respectively. As far as he knew, Aziraphale hadn't broached the topic with you, either. To him, there was absolutely no reason for you to be reading about anything even remotely connected to his or Aziraphale's status as supernatural beings.

Yet here you were.

Reading a book on demonology.

You shrugged in response to his question, bringing the book back down to your lap to read comfortably. "I'd never checked out the occult section before, so I decided to read something from there and this was the most interesting looking book on the whole shelf."

"Ah, right." That did, to Crowley's immense relief, make sense. You'd read at least one book from nearly every section in the bookshop -- why wouldn't you, at some point, venture into the occult?

"Can't help but wonder how accurate it is, though," you mused aloud. "Pretty sure we've all collectively decided that demonic possessions are all just mentally ill people being misunderstood and abused by the church, right? Or I guess sometimes maybe people seeking attention? So how much of this is, like... considered true, I guess?"

"Do you... believe in demons?" Crowley asked carefully.

"Not really. I mean, I feel like if they were real, we'd have more evidence than just... the church saying so? Like, surely atheists and Satanists would've met a ton of demons by now, but I don't see any atheists or Satanists ever talking about meeting demons."

Crowley had to admit that was a fair cop. Maybe a little... small-minded, at least cosmically speaking, but you were but a human. That could be excused.

"What if they were real?" he asked, coming to sit on the arm of the chair you occupied. "What if you met a demon? Knew a demon, even?"

You made a sound at the back of your throat that sounded an awful lot like the one he made. "I'd have a lot of things I needed to reconsider, for starters."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Well," you started, closing the book and turning so that you were facing him. "If demons were real, then I think the next logical step would be that angels were real, and if angels were real then the next step from that point would be that God's real."

He rocked back slightly to better look at you, clicking his tongue curiously. "Is that so bad, really?"

You sighed dramatically. It was a sound he loved -- it usually came before something remarkably human. Something remarkably You. "Anthony Janthony Cranthony," you lamented, "I cannot ever, under any circumstances, let my parents know that I regret not going to church more."

Anthony Janthony Cranthony? Why had you called him that? Of all things, to go with Anthony Janthony Cranthony...

He supposed that wasn't really the point to what you were saying. Something about your parents and church, though, that was the point.

"Not sure why they'd have to know," he said casually with a shrug.

Your eyes widened in shocked realization. "Oh, fuck, you're right! They'd never have to know. You're brilliant," you said, to him -- you'd called him brilliant! He beamed at that. "Going to Hell anyway, if all that were real, may as well add 'disrespecting my parents' to my list of sins."

Oh.

"Why do you think you'd go to Hell, darling?"

"It's not like I've been living a pious life, y'know?" you said, blinking up at him. "I curse, I've fucked out of wedlock, I'm reading all about demons and witchcraft and shit. I don't believe in God? I'm pretty sure that's one of the big no-nos."

It was his turn to blink, but his was followed up with a laugh. "Oh, love, God does not care about any of those things. Trust me."

"Oh, God, are you a Christian? Have you been this whole time? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to offend--"

"No, no, nothing like that. I..."

How did he tell you? Should he even tell you? He was sure Aziraphale might have something to say on the matter, but right now he couldn't be fucked, because you were here, looking up at him so innocently, so adoringly.

"What is it, Crowley?" And you sounded so concerned, so ready to take him into your arms and comfort him and apologize for a crime you hadn't even committed.

"I'm a demon."

The words tumbled forth from his lips before he could stop himself, and they hovered in the air for several silent and tense moments after, where all you did was stare at him.

And then you laughed -- and he wished he could laugh too. Hell, he wished he could hear even a trace of joy in your laugh. But it was all nerves and fear, like you weren't sure if this was some sick joke or if he was delusional.

When his expression didn't change, when he didn't yell out "sike!" or "gotcha!," your laugh died and then you just looked scared of him.

It nearly broke him, because if this was how you reacted before proof, how would you react when he showed you the truth?

But you didn't run away, so he carefully removed his glasses and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the light. Yours were locked onto the yellow irises, the slitted pupils that contracted and dilated at will.

He could tell you wanted to deny the reality of them -- that you wanted to write them off as contacts, but they wouldn't let you, because contacts couldn't dilate.

The only other things he could do -- well, within the confines of the bookshop, were show you his wings or turn into a snake. He wasn't huge on the latter option, at least not right now -- it definitely put him at a disadvantage, made him easier to discorporate.

So, instead, he moved to a stand. And his wings fanned out as you watched, and then, he figured, you'd run out the door screaming, never to be seen again. He hoped you lived well. He closed his eyes so that he didn't have to watch you walk away.

You got up -- he could hear the rustling of fabric, the relieved groan of the chair, the book falling onto the cushion. He expected the little bell above the door to signal your departure at any moment.

Instead, he felt your hands on his face, pulling him nearer to you. His eyes opened, stared into yours. The fear had gone, replaced by unabashed curiosity and deep, untamed love.

He expected many things to come out of that lovely mouth of yours. So God is real? Am I going to Hell? I don't want to go to Hell! What did I do to deserve going to Hell???

(You weren't going to Hell -- but after the initial question, people tended to panic and vomit the others out uncontrollably.)

He expected those questions. A handful of a select few others. He did not anticipate what you actually asked --

"Do you have a cool demon name?"

"A... Sorry, a what?"

"You know... Beelzebub, Asmodeus, Lucifer, Belial. What's your demon name?"

"O-oh... No... no 'cool' demon name, I'm afraid. Just... Just Crowley..."

He hadn't expected to be embarrassed and doubly hadn't expected to see a beaming smile on your face.

"I think Crowley's the coolest demon name, personally."

He could see in your eyes that you meant it -- and that made him smile.

"Isn't it just?" he asked with a relieved laugh.

"Now I gotta know what all you've done as a demon. I mean -- how old are you?"

"Old as the universe, darling."

He could see the moment your brain started trying to process that unfathomable information, and he could also see the moment it gave up. You moved on as if nothing happened, but Crowley took a moment to appreciate he wouldn't have to miracle your memories away before your brain went into nuclear meltdown.

"Why aren't you in Hell?"

"It's dreadfully boring."

"Why are you here?"

"I just think humans are neat... and your lot is very good at making booze."

"Have you done anything cool as a demon?"

"I met Shakespeare, I stopped some Nazi spies, I tempted Eve, I stopped Armageddon..."

"You what!?"

"Oh, yeah..." He made that sound in his throat. You copied it, seemingly from instinct. He wasn't even sure you noticed that you did it. "Long story, but Aziraphale and I convinced the Antichrist to just... not do the whole ending the world thing."

"Who's Aziraphale?"

"Oh. Right. Mr. Fell."

"... Mr. Fell? This Mr. Fell?" You motioned to the bookshop at large and Crowley nodded. "Is he a demon too?"

Crowley laughed -- an uproarious, barking laugh, that lasted much longer than was strictly necessary.

"Oh, you better not let him hear that," he said once he'd calmed down.

"... So he's not a demon?" you mumbled, and Crowley realized he'd accidentally made you feel bad.

He took one of your hands in his and guided it away from his face so that he could kiss the palm. "No, darling, he's not." He kissed your palm again. "He's an angel."

"I'm sorry -- he's a what?"

"An angel, of course. Really, like he could be anything else."

Nothing against him, of course, but he very much was what he was.

"So why are an ageless angel and demon wasting their time with me, a human who'll wither and die? Why go through that for me?"

"Well, it's not exactly our fault you weaseled your way into our lives," he said with an indignant hgk. "But now that you're here, we can't really imagine the place without you."

"I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, and I can't believe it came from a demon."

"Don't let the angel know I let you get away with calling me sweet. He'd never let me live it down."

[arcanarix]

Make That Double, Ch4 - Yan!SatoSugu X Fem!Reader [AO3]

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: non-con, PIV sex (protected), cunnilingus, lactation kink, mommy kink (all with geto)

Gifted with supernatural abilities or not (Sorcerers are a thing? For real? Something like this still difficult for you to accept!), there’s one downfall about both Geto and Gojo you know you can exploit.

The fact that they’re still men.

After what’s unfolded in the underground, Gojo stays behind for a little aftercare. You’re amazed the two even believe in it, all things considered. You’re snuggled between them in a large bath, full of Epsom salt, bath oils, bath bombs, even a few rose petals to add a little more zing to the vibe. And the only light illuminating the place is the tea light candles they’ve garnished around the tub. Perhaps this is to butter and soften you up around them, or it’s more between them since they’re already established in some kind of weird arrangement themselves. You’re not sure if you can call it a relationship.

Geto has a more protective hold around you while Gojo is content just lounging in the steaming hot bath water. Geto traces his finger lightly down your arms, murmuring something into your ear.

“How do you feel now?” he questions, kissing the crown of your head. You shift a bit in place. There’s not much room between the three of you. You’re practically wedged between them. The slightest movement or little wriggle of your body, and you can feel either of their dicks brushing against your thigh or hip underwater. You fucking loathe every minute of this, but it’s better than them violating you, you suppose.

You don’t respond. Gojo glances at you, assessing you with a curious twinkle in his eyes.

“That’s her first time feeling real dick inside her, and we didn’t even move. Of course she’s still feeling a little overwhelmed,” Gojo interjects with a disapproving frown. “I guess you’re right. We should have taken things a bit slower, but you got carried away too, Suguru!”

They talk about you like you’re not even in the room with them. They’re checking off a long, long, loooong list of things that really pisses you off, huh? Beyond the stalking, kidnapping, killing innocent people, violating your body…and all that hunk of shit.

“True,” Geto agrees while absently twirling a strand of your hair. You fight back the urge to wince. You hate how touchy these pricks are. “I just find her difficult to resist.”

Gojo’s brilliantly, blindingly bright sky blue stare bores into you as a toothy smile graces his features. “I guess I can’t blame you there. But come on, I was playing nicer than you were! You are so full of shit.”

And you know what they say about men not only being stupidly easy to bend or manipulate, but also being stupidly competitive?

A light bulb goes off in your head. You try to keep your expression neutral. Sure, you’re pissed as all hell at these guys, but you have to learn how to play the long game like you told yourself before.

“Satoru’s right,” you pipe in, as you pry yourself away from Geto’s embrace and snuggle into Gojo’s bare chest, your finger tracing over one of his pecs. Geto’s arm splashes the water as you pull away. He’s probably taken aback from his lack of immediate reaction. “He’s been nicer. Gentler. Like a lover should be. Isn’t that right?”

You lean into his ear as you end that sentence with a low, sultry purr, blowing a bit of air into it. You feel Gojo’s breath hitch as he cages you more tightly into his hold, fully secured in his warmth. You don’t react right away, but you wish you could, because the pride swelling in your chest that that was that easy is unbearable in the best way possible.

“But of course, Princess. You know I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” he murmurs as he presses a chaste kiss to your lips. Geto’s stare now bores into your back, his jaw slackened. You try not to grin. Not yet, at least. You bite down the urge hard because of how fast this is working.

To add fuel to the fire, you sigh dreamily into the kiss, your free hand cupping one of Gojo’s cheeks as he deepens it.

Now Geto growls under his breath. Bull’s eye.

“Remember what we’ve discussed, Satoru,” he warns, and with a hearty laugh, Gojo pries one eye open to glance at Suguru. “I hope you remember why I allow this in the first place.”

“Hmmmm…I believe we discussed something about me playing fair when it comes to her, and you know I am! I’m not doing anything wrong here,” Gojo taunts back, before twisting his head and twirling his tongue against yours, shutting his eyes again.

“Satoru,” he growls again, simmering in the bath now as he shifts in his spot, the water sloshing slightly as he adjusts, supporting himself against the edge of the tub. Stewing in his own bullshit and you wish you can pry your eyes open to sneak a glance, but you want to play this up a bit more. Favor one over the other sometimes. Find other ways to push their buttons…or at least figure out the proper buttons to push. That’s what really grinds anyone’s gears, but especially men like Geto and Gojo. They are as prone to rivalry and proving to each other who has the bigger sword as much as they are prone to being a team of menaces.

And if a girl like you is on the line? Well, as long as you play your cards right and don’t end up having to fold, it can’t hurt to mess around with this.

Besides, don’t you think you deserve a form of entertainment since you’re having to endure so much crap? Of course you do!

Gojo breaks the kiss only to drag his tongue along your jaw, his eyes glinting in a mischievous manner as they lock on Geto, still stewing in his anger and bullshit. You feel your heart leap and backflip in joy. What a sight! It’s a small win, but a win’s a win and you know you’re not going to have very many of those. You may as well soak it up like a sponge.

Or like your fingers are the bath water…

“Oh, come on, Suguru,” he purrs, as one of his hands glide down your stomach, eliciting a shiver out of you. He quirks an eyebrow as he judges his old friend. “Just teachin’ ya some manners. Like man, maybe you got to read another one of those self-help books on how to please a woman or something. You could seriously use it.”

You bite your lip as you wait for Geto’s retaliation, but shockingly, he has nothing to say in response to that. He only scowls as you snuggle in more into Gojo, and Gojo’s dreamy sigh only seems to piss Geto off even more. What if Geto doesn’t want this arrangement in the first place? He only does it because he still cares about Gojo.

(Not that you care, but it’s something to take into account.)

You really hope you aren’t starting bigger fires. But it’s not like they’d hold back on you, either way, no matter what they insist otherwise.

Remember, you’re playing the long game here…even if you might not win in the end, it’s better to put up a fight than to not try at all.

Geto is still a bit lenient with you when it comes to anything sexual. Which you’re not complaining about in the slightest. It leaves your mind more space to think about your upcoming assignments and exams; this is your last semester and in spite of everything, you’re almost done.

The girls do seem to enjoy spending time with you, which makes all of this a little more bearable. You try to fish for any other information you can about Geto out of them. Anything you can use. You’re not some person gifted with supernatural gifts, but you are gifted with common sense, a hint of street smarts and intelligence.

You doubt it’s going to be enough.

At some point, you do run into some other members of Geto’s ‘family.’ Suda, you have met a handful of times since your first day there. She’s his secretary who doesn’t make any effort to engage with you, but she does send a lot of dirty looks your way. Another member you meet is named Miguel, a sorcerer who hails all the way from Kenya.

You have to admit: the guy’s handsome. But he’s guarded, aloof, keeps mostly to himself, and most of all, he doesn’t seem entertained by your presence in the slightest. But since he respects Geto, he’s supervised you a handful of times while you did any group work with students online.

Just to ensure you don’t try anything stupid.

The computer Geto has given you, you learn, actively records everything you do online anyway. It’s not like you can bypass it. And only Geto can lock and unlock everything for you.

You’re watched like a hawk with everything you do. Even if you call for help, nothing can save you from what these beings are capable of, anyway. You’re not going to drag innocent strangers into this mess. You have to find another way.

One evening while you’re walking back to Geto’s bedroom, you accidentally brush against Miguel. You bow your head and apologize, but he grunts to himself.

“You being here isn’t right,” he mutters, leaving you dumbfounded as he scurries off. Like not right as in ‘you don’t belong with them’? He’s so right about that, but you can’t help but wonder if there’s something you missed.

Not like you can afford to dwell on it. If you’re not back in the bedroom before Geto returns, you have something bigger to worry about then.

You close the door behind you, sighing in relief when you notice he’s not returned from some business he had to attend to that you didn’t care to pay attention to and hear about.

You disrobe, clad in just your lacy undergarments like he expects, before sliding under the covers of the unbelievably soft bed. That’s one perk out of this. The bed back in your apartment isn’t the nicest. You can appreciate the smaller luxuries here.

You release a huge breath of relief. Some time to breathe before Geto pollutes your personal space again.

Oh, how wrong you are. It seems you can’t get too comfortable. The door creaks open and in strides Tweedle-fucking-dee.

“Hello, little dove,” he greets with a small smile before shutting the door. “Did you have a lovely day with the girls?”

You nod, hugging the blanket to your chest. “They were content in letting me play Animal Crossing with them.”

“Sounds like a peaceful time,” he replies as he crawls into bed with you, scooping you into his arms and pulling you flush into him. His finger traces your lips as he affectionately gazes down at you. “I’m glad to see you’re adjusting better than I expected.”

You say nothing, averting your gaze. This all feels so…ugh.

Remember what else you can do?

“Suguru, why do you allow Satoru access to me?” you inquire, feigning innocent curiosity.

His eyebrows flash at that question.

“We just tend to share,” he answers, fiddling with a lock of your hair. Your lips purse.

That doesn’t sound convincing.

“We?” you probe, scooting closer to him. Play this up as much as you can. “Or he? Because it doesn’t sound like you’re happy with the idea. Isn’t this about the girls’ happiness, ultimately? So that they can live with a functional family?”

“I want to give them a healthier upbringing than I had, indeed,” he concedes with a hum, snuggling you closer as he nuzzles his nose into your collarbone. “But Satoru is special to me too. It won’t be much longer until he can no longer see me, anyway.”

Healthier upbringing? …He must see the irony in that confession, right?

You cock your head slightly, parting your lips, as if inviting him for a kiss. “Why’s that?”

“Politics,” he answers smoothly, accepting the bait and pecking your lips. “Regarding sorcerers.”

“Oh. Um.” Words die on your tongue, as you’re unsure where to go from here.

“It doesn’t concern you, little dove. You don’t have to worry about it,” he assures you, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before his lips trail lower, stopping between your breasts. He breathes out slowly, as if willing himself to relax. He peppers gentle little kisses along your chest before he unclasps your bra and tosses it carelessly away.

“Suguru…?” you murmur before a gasp interrupts you as he fondles one of your breasts. His calloused thumb brushes over your perky nipple a few times, before pinching it between his fingers.

“The medication worked faster than I expected,” he whispers, dragging his tongue between your breasts. You let out a breathy moan. Your breasts have definitely become more tender and sensitive, drawing more reactions out of you that certainly please Geto to no end. While he hasn’t been so handsy on you since the last time Gojo came for a visit, he hasn’t let go of his particular fixation on this. Feasting on either these or on your cunt, depending on his mood. “You have the sweetest milk… I can’t stop thinking about it.”

How the hell are you supposed to react to that?

He playfully bites the little bud, making you whine from the light sting, before he sucks the nipple into his mouth. Groaning low and guttural as the rush of liquid hits his eager tongue, gulping it down dramatically.

He removes his mouth for a moment to speak.

“My pretty dove,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the drenched nipple. “My pretty Mamma.”

A record stops in your brain. Your eye almost twitches.

….what. The hell.

You know he wants you to be a mother to the twins, but…but…what the actual hell is this?

“I….um…” your voice fades like the end of a soundtrack. You don’t even have a comeback to that. It’s probably best you didn’t, because Geto raises his head to meet your eyes, his own violet hues shimmering with lust and something else too gut-wrenching to name.

Whatever it is, it’s probably some twisted amusement at your aversion to the way he addressed you.

“What, don’t like the idea of me submitting to you? Mamma?” he purrs, nuzzling his face between your breasts, kissing between them. You clench your teeth, biting down the smart retorts dying to slip from your cannon of a mouth. Not like you have any real power even if he did.

His fingers ghost down your waist and hips, and you shudder, chewing on your lip to bite back a moan. “Do you like it when I call you that?”

“Hell no,” you retaliate in a sharp tone, and a sadistic grin spreads across his face.

“Even better,” he jives, before seizing your opposite nipple and suckling hard, eager to drink more of your essence. The glug, glug, glug��from his eager slurping and sucking makes you flush from embarrassment. It’s so gross. You hate that now you have to not only mother the girls, but to fulfill some more weird ass shit for Geto.

His lips come off your drenched nipple, finally, to give him a few moments to breathe but then he snakes down until his head is caught between your thighs. His fingers rub against your clothed pussy, tongue running along his lips.

“I think you’ve had enough time to cool off in the last two weeks since Satoru visited, don’t you think?” he muses out loud, peeling your panties aside to reveal your perfect cunt already coated in a light sheen from your slick. “Oh? Someone’s enjoyed themselves and they won’t admit it?”

Fucking piece of shit, you sneer in your mind.  

Two fingers dip between your folds, sliding along them before they infiltrate your entrance.

“Suguru,” time to see how far this can go. “Satoru was way nicer back there. Why can’t you be like that?”

Geto freezes, but his fingers don’t exit, instead he continues to pump them in and out of you in a more slow, careful manner.

“Which of us do you prefer, Mamma?” he mutters, curious. “Do you really think he is more adept than I in treasuring you? He’s not even going to be here as much anymore.”

“Hm? Am I allowed to give you an answer, Suguru?” you retort in that feigned clueless tone, tilting your head. “I think you know the answer. But I am curious. Why do you let Satoru get under your skin like that, when you’re the one in control?”

Suguru bites back a sigh. “…It’s complicated, Mamma. Something you can’t understand.”

Oh, how you loathe the fact that he can talk to you like that.

Dragging out a mock sympathetic sigh, your hand rests on Geto’s hair as his fingers idky pump in and out of you. He purrs in approval before his mouth descends on your cunt, closing his lips over your folds and slurping on your slick.

“Suguru,” you whisper, “Put Satoru in the back of your mind. He’s not here most of the time like you said, so why does it matter what I think of him when you have me all to yourself now?”

You ignore the bile threatening to ooze from your mouth. God, this alone is dehumanizing to you, even if Geto insists you’re above such treatment.

“That’s true, Mamma,” he replies, his voice muffled against your soaking cunt, his tongue still eagerly laving along the sensitive skin. “And he won’t be back for another month…some mission with his students.”

“So then,” you reply in an uncharacteristically sultry tone. “What have you got to worry about, darling?”

He growls in approval, suckling harder on your slick folds, and you inhale sharply. Guess he likes being called that.

“You’re right,” he grunts, pulling away to speak. “You’re all mine.”

You just keep telling yourself that, buddy.

It’s not hard to tell Geto might have a strong oral fixation. If he wants to he would definitely stay like this, but he has his own duties to fulfill (none that you care to learn about), and you’re just his pretty little trophy.

God, life is such a thing, isn’t it?

You do have to admit he’s far too good at this to be real. Had he been a real lover and you might have enjoyed this a lot more…

He adjusts your legs, pushing your knees toward your chest as he rolls his tongue along your slick cunt. The little flicks of his tongue against your clit are soft yet just firm enough to make your back arch off tbe bed.

“That’s it, Mamma. Let go. Let me take care of you,” he coos before his tongue probes your entrance.

You hate that it feels kind of good. His grip on your legs tighten, his finger pads digging into your skin. His tongue works its magic, pushing into your gummy walls and you’re writhing, almost keening beneath him. You’re gonna come. When you do, it’s in a crescendo and all Geto does is laugh in pure delight.

Quiet times with the girls have come to be the moments you largely prefer. Mostly because Geto keeps his hands to himself and you find that the girls are the least of your worries. They are more or less easy to please. As long as they have the pleasure of your company, you don’t have any qualms or issues with them.

Geto still likes to keep close to you, though. Whether that means you sitting right in his lap around the twins or just seated next to him while they do their own thing. Either way, you’re not leaving his line of sight no matter what.

He adjusts you a bit, snuggling you in close to his chest and you can smell the notes of citrus and sandalwood from his strong cologne. Strangely a comforting scent never mind it’s radiating from his body.

Nanako and Mimiko are facing behind you while they do a few rounds of Mario Golf. Their attention’s completely away from the two of you so occasionally Geto’s hands will go to places where they shouldn’t but it’s not like you have a voice here. His large, calloused hands are resting on your thighs, fingers brushing against the skin ever so slightly. The robe is absolutely for easy access. Why make the job unnecessarily difficult?

“Suguru?” you whisper, audible enough so only he can hear you. You lift your head, nuzzling into his shoulder. Just play the long game. Don’t lose sight of your goal and that’s finding a way to get the fuck out of here.

“What is it, Mamma?” he whispers back, matching your tone. His eyes shine with something akin to affection. How quickly it seems he let his resolve around humanity crumble around you, at least. Perhaps he wants you to disengage the barriers you have around yourself. Whatever the reason, it doesn’t matter, because you don’t care, either way.

“It would be wise to be less indecent,” you warn in a low tone. “You want to be a better lover to me than Satoru, don’t you?”

“Of course, haven’t I proven that already?” he retorts as his hands venture to cup your ass cheeks. You curse under your breath. This guy really isn’t different from Gojo in a lot of ways. Tweedle-fucking-dee for sure.

He grabs one of your hands before you can have an appropriate reaction, guiding it under his robe, on his pelvis where he makes you caress his growing erection.

When the girls can glance behind them at any time to see their adoptive father behaving less than decent.

“Help me with this, and I’ll keep my hands off of you for the rest of the week if that’ll make you happy,” he demands into your skin before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Around the girls?” you retaliate harshly, careful not to raise your voice.

He lifts one of your legs to shield the view a bit, in case the girls do cast curious glances, which they indeed will.

“Better, Mamma?” he purrs, while guiding your hand before you move it on your own, utilizing the soft palm and heel of your hand to stimulate him. He bites back a low grunt, careful not to draw attention to the two of you while the girls are engrossed in their own worlds. It’s better for them that way. Better not to taint their innocence any more than it already has been, right?

If you can even call those girls innocent given how casually they discuss such tragedies they have witnessed so young in their life.

“Not by very much,” you finally answer through your clenched teeth. An idea flashes in your mind, but you don’t know if you can execute it well. It’s worth a shot.

“Don’t you think it’d be a bit better if we had a little more privacy, darling?” you ask while batting your eyelashes to sweeten the deal—no matter how gross you feel doing this—and all the while tracing little patterns along his clothed, straining erection that you can feel dampening. “As tempting as this is, I’d prefer if you could be freer to express yourself.”

“You’re right, Mamma,” he replies, glancing at the girls with a neutral expression before hoisting you up into his arms princess style. Your knee pushes against his pelvis, where you can still feel the dampness from his leaking cock, concealing it from sight, but barely. “They won’t miss us much.”

He effortlessly carries you away from the living area and strides down the hallway leading to his bedroom. You won’t ever call it yours; you don’t belong here, just like that family member of his told you. You have spared yourself some embarrassment, at the very least, as he rests you on your back on his bed with shocking gentleness.

“I know this will be your first,” he growls into your neck before trailing heated kisses along it while fully disrobing you. “But I will follow through on my promise. After this, I won’t touch you like this again for another week. That makes you happy, does it not?”

Like he actually cares, you think, but rather than rebuking with a snippy reply, you nod in response and a slow smile graces his sharp features before he pries your legs apart. He tuts when he notices you aren’t wet enough, inspecting with a few of his fingers digging into your folds. Your breath catches in your throat.

“There’s always a solution to these things.”

He moves to gather the appropriate supplies—lube. And a condom. He actually cares enough to wear a condom this time.

“I don’t want there to be any…unfortunate mishaps,” he states, as he wraps himself with a clean condom before squeezing a liberal amount of lube into his hands. “I don’t care to breed for more sorcerer children, considering the chances of that are already slim to none…I’m already happy with the family I have. You, the girls, the cult…Satoru…”

He pushes two fingers coated in lube into you without so much as a warning and you arch your back into the bed, gripping the sheets. He chuckles at your reaction, shaking his head.

“Even though you’ve experimented so much with your own toys, the way you behave is just so cute. So innocent, as if you don’t have your own dark, filthy desires you want to fulfill,” he babbles as he stretches you with a third finger. “It’s misleading considering what you choose to wear beneath your clothes, and what Satoru has found rummaging through your dresser. You want something like this, don’t you?”

Your face drops at that little tidbit of information—so they  have been watching you for longer than you think, even going as far as invading your space? Before you even know they existed? This is insane.

“Not like this,” you confess, squeezing your eyes shut as the way he stretches your walls with his fingers burns so good but you don’t want to admit it. Even if it means staying in his good graces. As if you truly give a damn for no other reason than survival. You dare to prop yourself a bit on your elbows, glancing down as Geto continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. Sometimes he takes the time to admire the way your hole gapes, his lips parted slightly. A line of drool trickles down his chin and you grimace at the sight. What a fucking animal.

“Oh, you poor thing,” he coos condescendingly, popping his fingers out of your entrance while lining his protected cock to it. You swallow. It’s so huge. Sure, Gojo’s is big too, but not in terms of girth like with Geto’s.

Your eyes squeeze shut as a breathy shriek escapes your lips when the head finally breaches you. He coos and whispers sweet nothings to you, tries to comfort you by kneading your plush thighs as he inches the rest of his cock until you’re filled to the hilt. The stretch is so wide, brushing against your walls. Tears brimming at the corners of your eyes as you try to adjust. It’s nothing like how Gojo’s felt; it’s nothing like how your toys felt either because you have never taken anything nearly this size…

Geto cages your body with his, hands pressed to either side of your head as he leans into muffle your little whimpers and whines with a passionate kiss. He experiments with one gentle thrust, chuckling as your hands fly to grip tightly at his shoulders.

“Calm down,” he murmurs, having the gall to actually tell you that is maddening. “You’re alright. You’re taking me well. You feel perfect. So tight. Satoru must have really enjoyed that.”

Your eyes are still squeezed shut so you don’t bother to glare, just clinging onto him for dear life as he spares you with a few more gentle thrusts before finding a rhythm he’s happy with, because this is for his pleasure. This is all about him and nothing to do with you. Just smile and bear it. That’s all you can do here.

…Well, not all you can do.

“Stop thinking about Satoru unless you want me to bring up how much better his dick felt in there than yours,” you challenge as you dare to pry at least one eye open to get a view of Geto sprawled all over you with his dick balls deep inside. His body is already coated in glistening sweat and, in another world, you might have thought he was the hottest thing in existence. But you know the kind of ugly he is beneath those angelic features of his.

“Why are you telling me that, Mamma? Are you trying to upset me?” he shoots back, rolling his hips and thrusting harder, making you choke on a gasp. He smirks at that reaction in triumph.

“I’m telling you that to remind you to be better for me, darling,” you reply, sliding a hand down his hips, digging your nails as he adjusts his rhythm. Your eyes roll back as he hits that right spot, and, encouraged, he adjusts his rhythm again, brushing against that area over and over and over—

“—Fuck, Suguru!” you shout as you come, clenching around his girthy cock which feels surreal but horrifying considering this is not how you wanted your first time to be like. Even if it is technically good.

“Feel good, Mamma?” he purrs affectionately, but you can feel his dick twitching and he still feels so hard, like he’s got a long way to go before this is done. No wonder he’s offered a week of recovery following this… “Did I make you feel good?”

You bite back the menacing words you want to say and settle on, “Yes, darling. You made me feel so good. Now keep making me feel good so that you don’t have to be compared to—!”

“—Stop saying his name,” he growls, snapping his hips as he picks up a more erratic rhythm this time, rocking the bed and even making it creak a few times. “He’s not relevant here. This is about us, Mamma. Me and you. I get to make you feel good for as long as I desire, do you understand? Everything about Satoru is out of sight, out of mind here.”

Men are still men, in the end, you figure.

He doesn’t stop until finally, he comes, slipping his flaccid dick out and tossing the used condom away. But he doesn’t seem to want to stop at just one, as he tries to stroke his cock back to being fully erect.

He winks at you, grabbing another condom to slip back on.

“I’m sure you can tolerate a few more rounds, Mamma.”