#the man's a walking pride flag and i am here for it

[ingravinoveritas]

New photo of David from Georgia’s Instagram, wearing a pin that says “You are safe with me.”

[50calmadeuce]

EOL - Chapter 4

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Top Gun: Maverick world, trademarked by Paramount Pictures Corporation. I do not claim ownership of the characters and the world that I am borrowing.

The story and situation I am creating are a work of my imagination and I do not ascribe them to official story canon. This work is for entertainment only and is not a part of the storyline.

I am not profiting financially from the creation and publication of this story, but I do hope it gives you happy thoughts.

These stories are my own, so please do not take them and use them for yourself without my permission. If you see them somewhere else, please let me know.

Warning: This chapter discusses miscarriage. Do not read if it's a trigger.

The following day, you assisted Dr. Weiss in the clinic.

"So, how was your first day?" he asked as the two of you led a horse in from the barn.

"It went well," you replied, securing the horse in the exam room.

"I heard you were asked to be the Flag Girl for the rodeo," he remarked.

"I was," you admitted. "Though, I have to say, it's been a while since I've done any rodeo work."

Dr. Weiss chuckled as he grabbed his equipment. "Well, I have no doubt you'll do just fine. Riding a horse is like riding a bike, right?"

You smiled. "Something like that. But carrying a flag at a full gallop is a little different than a casual ride."

"I'm sure you'll get back into the swing of things quickly," he said. "Besides, it’ll be good for you to have some fun outside of work."

You nodded as you ran a hand down the horse’s neck. "Yeah… I think so too." Though, if you were being honest, part of you wondered if keeping busy was just another way to avoid thinking about Jake.

"Since it's in three days, I'll let you off at noon today so you can get some practice in. How does that sound?"

You smiled. "That sounds perfect. I appreciate that."

Dr. Weiss gave you a knowing nod as he checked the horse’s vitals. "Good, then. Take the afternoon, and make sure to enjoy yourself. It’s important to get a balance between work and fun."

"Thanks, I really appreciate it," you said, your mind already drifting toward the thought of getting back into the rodeo groove. A part of you felt like you might need it.

After a few more minutes of checking the horse, you finished up and began to head out, your thoughts lingering on the flag girl offer.

As you walked out of the exam room, Dr. Weiss waved. "Enjoy the rest of your day off. And don’t forget, practice makes perfect!"

You smiled and waved back, feeling a bit lighter. It was going to be nice to reconnect with something familiar. Now, all you had to do was figure out how to shake the nervous knot that seemed to form every time you thought about Jake and the strange tension between you two.

Jake stepped through the doors of the feed store and approached the counter.

"Hey, Jake," the man greeted. "Here to pick up your father's order?"

"Yes, sir," Jake replied.

"I'm glad Y/N decided to be the Flag Girl at the rodeo this year," he added.

Jake raised an eyebrow, surprised by the comment. "She is?"

"You didn't know?"

"Honestly, I haven't had much of a chance to talk to her," he confessed.

The man raised an eyebrow but didn’t press, instead handing Jake the order with a nod. "Well, she’s a natural fit for it. She was great as a Rodeo Queen and with what she does now, a lot of littles will be looking up to her even more now."

Jake gave a half smile. "That is true."

Jake took the feed from the man, still processing the new information.

"I mean, look at you. A Navy fighter pilot now," the man remarked.

Jake chuckled, a bit of pride creeping into his voice. "Yeah, it's been a ride." He shifted the feed to his other arm, feeling a mix of emotions. The mention of you always had a way of throwing him off, no matter how much time had passed.

The man gave him a knowing look. "A lot's changed, huh?"

Jake nodded, his gaze momentarily drifting to the window. "Yeah... some things have." His thoughts returned to you—how you'd stepped back into this small town like you never left, how you had become a role model for others, and how he'd somehow never really figured out where he fit in with all of it.

He cleared his throat, trying to shift focus. "Anyway, I should get going. Thanks for the feed."

"Anytime, Jake. And hey, you should try to catch Y/N there. Might be a good time to talk."

Jake hesitated, but then nodded. "Yeah. Maybe." He turned and walked out of the store, the weight of the conversation still hanging in the air as he headed to his truck.

"Are you sure this horse will work?" you asked your brother as the two of you finished saddling Skunk, the black and white Paint gelding.

Cole gave you a reassuring smile as he adjusted the saddle. "Yeah, I think Skunk will be fine. He’s got the right temperament, and he’s fast when he needs to be. Just make sure you keep him steady on the turns."

You raised an eyebrow, adjusting the reins in your hands. "You sure about that?"

"Well, if you came home more often, we’d have a better match for you," he replied with a grin.

You rolled your eyes, but there was a smile tugging at the corner of your lips. "Yeah, yeah, I get it. I’ve been busy."

Cole chuckled and gave the horse’s mane a gentle pat. "Well, he’s not a rodeo pro, but he’s got potential. Just keep your focus, and we’ll get through this."

You unhooked the horse from the tie-downs, took the reins, and the two of you walked toward the indoor arena. Cole had already set up the barrels, and as soon as you entered, you turned to mount the horse.

You felt the horse shift under you. "Alright. Let’s hope he’s got as much potential as you say."

Cole gave you a teasing look. "You’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll be here cheering you on."

You gave him a nod and clicked your tongue to signal the horse forward.

The horse trotted forward smoothly, his hooves echoing in the indoor arena. You guided him through the first barrel, focusing on keeping your balance and rhythm. He was a bit more spirited than you’d expected, but it felt good to have that familiar adrenaline coursing through your veins.

As you approached the second barrel, you squeezed with your legs to steer him, and he responded, making a sharp turn. A brief moment of hesitation before he was back on track—nothing you couldn’t handle. The third barrel loomed, and your heart beat a little faster, but you had this.

Cole called from the sidelines, his voice encouraging. "Looking good! Keep it steady!"

You pushed the horse forward for the final stretch, your focus unwavering as you crossed the finish line. The horse came to a smooth stop, and you couldn’t help but smile, feeling the satisfaction of a run well done.

Cole walked over, giving you a thumbs-up. "Not bad! He’s definitely got the speed; just need a little more work on his turns."

You nodded. "Okay. Let's try it again."

Cole glanced toward the barn doors as a truck pulled into the driveway and parked.

"I'll be right back! Keep practicing," he yelled out to you as you continued working with the horse.

He headed toward the truck just as Jake stepped out and approached him.

"Jake," Cole greeted.

Jake met his gaze. "Is Y/N around?"

Cole nodded. "She is."

Jake glanced toward the barn. "Is she in there?"

Cole crossed his arms, studying Jake. "You look like you got somethin’ on your mind."

Jake let out a breath, running a hand over his jaw. "Maybe I do."

Cole raised an eyebrow, waiting.

Jake hesitated for a second before finally speaking. "I heard she’s gonna be the Flag Girl at the rodeo."

Cole nodded. "Yeah, she is. It was a last-minute decision, but she’s getting back into the swing of things."

Jake glanced back toward the barn. "She always was good at riding," he murmured.

Cole smirked. "You here to reminisce, or you got something else to say?"

Jake shot him a look but didn’t rise to the bait. Instead, he exhaled and squared his shoulders. "I need to talk to her."

Cole studied him for a moment.

"Do you know why she was sick after I left?" Jake asked.

Cole exhaled, his expression unreadable. "That's something you need to discuss with her."

Jake clenched his jaw, nodding slowly. He'd expected that answer, but it didn’t make the weight in his chest any lighter.

Cole sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Look, man, I get it. You want answers. But this? It ain't my story to tell. You left, and when you did, a lot changed. If you really want to know what happened, you gotta hear it from her."

Jake dragged a hand down his face, frustration simmering beneath his skin. "I just—" He exhaled sharply. "I just don't know what happened.

Cole didn't argue with him. Instead, he just studied Jake for a moment before jerking his chin toward the barn. "Then start making up for lost time."

Jake turned his gaze back to barn. His chest tightened. He had no idea what he was walking into, but he knew one thing for sure—he couldn’t keep running from this.

So, with a deep breath, he started toward the barn.

You had just rounded the third barrel when you glanced toward the gate and realized Cole was still gone. In his place stood Jake. Slowing Skunk to a walk, you made your way toward him.

"You're not turning into the barrel. You need to relax," he remarked as you approached.

"Whoa," you murmured to the horse, bringing it to a stop. Dismounting, you took the reins in hand and stepped closer to the gate.

"I know," you admitted. "Still getting used to the horse."

Jake rested his arms on the gate, studying you. "You'll get it. Just gotta trust him—and yourself."

You sighed, running a hand down the horse’s neck. "Easier said than done."

Jake tilted his head slightly, his gaze never leaving you. "Yeah, I get that."

Silence stretched between you for a moment, the weight of the past hanging in the air. Finally, you exhaled and met his eyes. "Did you need something, Jake?"

He hesitated, rubbing a hand over his jaw before straightening. "Yeah. I need to talk to you." His voice was quieter now, more careful.

You looked at him—really looked at him. This wasn’t the Jake you last remembered. He was a man now. His green eyes were the same, but his face had sharpened with maturity. As your gaze flickered over him, you couldn’t help but notice the broadness of his shoulders, the strength in his build. The Navy had certainly bulked him up.

You tightened your grip on the reins. "About what?"

"About what happened between us, Y/N."

Jake shifted, glancing toward the ground before looking back at you. "About why you were sick after I left."

Your breath caught. For a split second, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Then, instinct took over, and you looked away, focusing on the horse instead.

You swallowed hard, gripping the reins tighter as the weight of his words settled over you.

"I don't want to do this, Jake," you murmured, still avoiding his gaze.

"Yeah, well, neither do I," he admitted, his voice softer now. "But I can't pretend like I don’t know something happened to you. Not anymore." He paused, his expression serious. "We had a plan, Y/N. What happened that was so bad you stopped talking to me?"

You flinched, his words like a crack against something fragile inside you. The weight of the past pressed down on you, making it hard to breathe, and even harder to find the right words.

You closed your eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply before forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "And what do you expect me to say?"

"The truth," he said simply. "No more running, no more avoiding it."

Your chest tightened. You had spent years trying to move past it, burying it deep where it couldn't hurt you anymore. But now, standing in front of Jake—who looked at you with something between determination and regret—you realized the past wasn’t done with you.

"I lost a baby, Jake," you finally whispered, your voice barely audible. "Our baby."

Jake's face paled, his whole body going rigid as the words sank in. "What?" His voice was rough, like the wind had been knocked out of him.

You exhaled shakily, the memory threatening to pull you under. "I found out just before you left. That night, I took a pregnancy test."

Jake’s face twisted in shock and disbelief, his breath catching as he took a step back. "You—" His voice faltered, then steadied. "You were pregnant?"

You nodded, the weight of the moment pressing on you, heavier than you’d ever let yourself feel before. "I didn't know how to tell you. I was already trying to figure out how to let you go, Jake. I couldn’t hold on to you with something like that between us. My plans were to raise the baby. Momma was going to help so I could still go to school."

The silence between you both felt like a suffocating blanket. Jake stood still, his eyes wide, as though trying to process the words, the reality of it all. "Y/N..." He opened the gate, stepped forward, reaching for you but stopping short, unsure.

"But then one night I woke up and there was blood. So much blood. Momma rushed me to the emergency room. They said sometimes it just happens. I ended up having a D & C because my body didn't expel it all. My body just didn't handle it well after. Not just physically, but mentally." You took a deep breath. "I never told you," you continued, your voice breaking as you fought to keep control. "I thought... I thought you had enough on your plate with the Navy, with everything ahead of you. And I couldn't— I didn’t want to be the reason you felt trapped."

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his gaze never leaving you, haunted and searching. "You should've told me. I should’ve known. I would’ve wanted to know."

You shook your head, tears blurring your vision. "I didn’t want to burden you with it. You had a future, Jake. And I didn’t want to be the one to mess that up for you."

His jaw clenched, and a low growl escaped his throat. "Y/N, that was never your choice to make." His voice trembled with frustration, the depth of the emotion in his words impossible to miss. "We were supposed to make decisions together. You weren’t supposed to carry that alone."

The vulnerability in his voice was enough to break what little composure you had left. "I couldn’t have you stay out of obligation. I couldn’t ask you to sacrifice your dreams for me. For us."

"God, Y/N," Jake breathed, his eyes softening with regret. "You should’ve asked. I would’ve stayed for you. For both of you."

You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears. "I couldn’t ask you to do that, Jake. I couldn’t ask you to give up everything you worked for."

He shook his head, stepping closer until there was almost no space left between you. "You wouldn’t have been asking me to give up anything. You would’ve been asking me to be there with you, to face it together. To be a father. And I would’ve done it, Y/N. I would’ve been there, no matter what."

The words hung in the air like an unspoken promise, and for the first time in years, you allowed yourself to believe in the possibility of what could’ve been. But the weight of the years between you both still pressed on your chest, and the question that hung in the silence was whether either of you could go back, rewrite the past, and heal what had been broken.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The world seemed to hold its breath, waiting.

"Jake, you would’ve been miserable," you said softly. "Yes, you love coming home to the ranch, but being a rancher wasn’t your path. It’s not the life you were meant for."

Jake finally stepped closer, gently taking your hands in his, you still holding on the the reins. "Y/N. Look at me."

You met his gaze, your eyes blurry with tears.

Jake’s thumb brushed over your knuckles as he held your hands, his expression soft but intense, his eyes pleading for something you weren’t sure you could give. “We can’t change what happened, but I’m here now. I want to be here for you. And for us.”

"You're not mad?" you asked, surprised.

"Y/N, I've loved you since you said hello to me in kindergarten," he said softly. "It tore me apart when you stopped writing and talking to me. I knew something was wrong, but I had to focus on school. I wrote you every week."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you blinked, taken aback by the depth of his confession. "You did?" you whispered, hardly able to process the fact that he had looked for you, even after all these years.

Jake nodded, his gaze steady, though there was a trace of sorrow in his eyes. "Yeah. Didn't you get my letters?"

You felt a mixture of emotions flood through you—shock, gratitude, sadness—but most of all, something you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel for a long time: hope.

"No," you murmured, a knot in your throat.

Jake’s brows furrowed, confusion flickering across his face. "What do you mean, no?"

You swallowed hard, the realization settling deep in your chest. "I never got them, Jake," you whispered. "Not a single one."

His jaw tensed, and he exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand over his face. "I don’t understand. I sent them. Every week, without fail. I thought… I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore."

Your heart ached at the pain in his voice.

"I thought the same about you," you admitted, your voice trembling. "I thought you just… stopped caring."

Jake shook his head, his expression caught between frustration and heartbreak. "That was never true. Not for a second." His grip on your hands tightened slightly, grounding you. "Y/N. I still want to be with you. I always have."

You looked at him.

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation—but there was none. Only raw honesty and the same unwavering devotion you had once thought was lost.

"Jake…" You whispered his name, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest.

He squeezed your hands gently, his thumbs tracing soft circles against your skin. "I mean it," he said, voice steady despite the emotion thickening it. "I loved you then, and I love you now. Nothing changed that."

A lump formed in your throat. So much had been stolen from you both—years of silence, of heartache, of believing the other had walked away. And yet, here he was, standing before you, offering you a chance to rewrite the ending.

You met his gaze, the weight of his words settling in. "I don't know, Jake."

He looked at you, stunned.

Jake’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second before he steadied himself, searching your face. "What do you mean?" His voice was careful, measured, but you could hear the thread of vulnerability beneath it.

You took a step back, wrapping your arms around yourself as if trying to hold everything together. "I don’t know how to just… undo all these years. I don’t know how to trust that this isn’t just the past pulling us back together for a moment before we break all over again."

Jake inhaled sharply, nodding as if he understood—because maybe he did. "Y/N, I get it. I do. But I’m not asking you to pretend like none of it happened. I’m asking for a chance to prove that we’re not the same people who let fear and silence break us apart."

Your throat tightened. "And what if we are? What if we can’t fix this?"

He took a step toward you, cautious, as if afraid you might bolt. "Then we don’t try to fix the past—we build something new. Something better." His eyes softened, his voice quieter now. "But I won’t push you, Y/N. This has to be your choice too."

The silence between you stretched, heavy with uncertainty, with longing, with the weight of years lost and words left unsaid. You could feel the pull of him, the part of you that still loved him, still wanted to believe in the possibility of an ‘us.’

But was love enough?

"I'll think about it," you said quietly.

You saw the hurt flicker across Jake's face as he nodded. "Okay," he murmured before turning and walking out of the gate.

As Jake’s footsteps faded down the stable, you stood there, silently crying. Skunk nudged his head against yours, his warm breath brushing your cheek, and the simple gesture broke you completely—you cried even harder.

Tags: @smoothdogsgirl @tgmreader @tylers-twister-gal @crashingwavesofeuphoria @lunatygerqueen @illisea @findthebeautyinbreakdowns @untitled-document-95 @mrsevans90 @djs8891 @justwaveandsmile @kmc1989 @literal-tv-menace @malindacath

[lulunothulu]

“A Bullseye to the Heart” (Ch. 4)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Latina Reader

Blurb: Jake drives you to his house, and you're surprised by his gentlemanly-ness. You end your first night at his home (kinda) embarrassing yourself.

Contents: the fluffiest fluff, just Jake and Reader being flirty and kinda fighting, bad writing lol

Word Count: 1,330

I'm sorry this one is short, I'll make it up to you guys in the next chapter!

Chapter 4

Jake drove you to his house in silence, your words echoed in his mind.

“Don’t fall for me and don’t deny you aren’t because I feel it. Trust me, you don’t want to be with me.”

All he could think of was how hard and fast he was falling for you. He didn’t mean to, he’d never fallen for someone. Sure there have been a few women he could’ve fallen for but they never felt right. From the moment you walked up to the group with those eyes, he knew he was a lost cause. From the time he held you in his arms, stopping you from getting close to Nick and the commotion he knew. Not only was he instantly struck by you, but you were the first woman to intrigue him in such a way that he had to research you; to see what made you upset, what made you happy.

Every time he glances over at you, you’d quickly turn your head away from him and look out the window of his truck. Jake smiles to himself, the knowledge that you keep looking over at him makes his chest fill with pride. 

When he finally pulls into his driveway in his gated community, you send Phoenix and Rooster a text that you’ve made it before undoing your seat belt and moving to hop out of Jake’s car. 

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Getting out of the car,” you respond.

“I’ll get the door,” he says, quickly climbing out of the truck and jogging to your side. When he opens the door, he flashes you a cheeky grin and extends his hand toward you. “My lady.”

“I am not your lady,” you spit but take his hand anyway because why not?

Instant flickers of lust run through your fingertips and up your arm, sending them down your spine. You flick your eyes toward Jake to see him already staring down at you, green eyes searching your own in longing. 

You pull away and clear your throat before saying, “I’ll just grab my bag.”

“No need,” Jake drawls, opening the back door and tossing your bag over his shoulder with expert precision. “I’ve got it too.”

“Didn’t think you’d be such a gentleman,” you half tease. 

“Sweetheart, I was raised to treat women with respect. My man-whore ways won’t change that.”

“So you’re a man-whore?” you ask.

Jake’s cheeks turn a light shade of red before he shakes his head with a smile on his lips. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

Gesturing to follow him, Jake adds, “Come on, let’s get you to bed. You must be emotionally exhausted.”

You hated to admit it, but you were exhausted. You reluctantly follow him toward the house and smile up at the Texas flag hanging outside. “You must be a very proud Texan.”

Jake flashes you a cocky grin over his shoulder before drawling, “Of course I am. I’m Texas born and raised.”

“So your family is still there?”

“Yes, why are you asking so many questions?” he asks, opening the front door and allowing you in first. 

“Just trying to get to know the person I’ll be living with for a bit,” you shrug. As you look around, you can’t help but notice how bare the walls in the house are. Nothing but white paint and an occasional window. “That’s a lot of white walls.”

“I like my house to be simple,” he shrugs. “Plus I probably won’t be here too long so I don’t want to deal with having to paint and fill holes.”

He walks you to the kitchen before putting your bag on the island. “So this is the kitchen. Over that way,” he points to the room on your left, “is the living room and dinning room. Our rooms are over on this side, they both have their own bathroom so you won’t have to share with me.”

You look over his shoulder where he was pointing and nod your head. 

“I know you left your car at Hard deck, so I’m having Coyote and Bob bring it tomorrow morning before we have to head in for PT,” he tells you, grabbing a glass of water and filling it with water from the fridge. He takes a sip, watching as you look around the kitchen and then land on the fridge behind him. “If you’re hungry, you can help yourself to anything. There’s no cow milk but there is almond milk.”

“Are you lactose intolerant?” you ask, biting down a smirk. 

“I am,” Jake smiles. He sets his glass down before grabbing your bag again and walking toward the rooms. “Follow me, I’ll show you where you’re staying.”

You follow him into the hall and notice there’s actually three bedrooms. 

“Door on your left is my room and you’re right across from me,” he says. “The door at the end of the hall is an office.”

Office, that makes sense.

“Um, thank you,” you mutter. You make a move to grab your bag from his hands but he instead walks into your room and sets it down on the queen bed. There’s a night stand by the bed and a drawer across from the bed. 

“I’ll leave you to it,” he says. “Holler if you need anything.”

Before he leaves the room, you grab his hand, surprising not only yourself, but Jake as well. “Thank you, Jake. I really do appreciate what you’re doing for me.”

Jake shrugs before smiling down at you and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d do it for anyone.”

Later that night, you’re tossing and turning. You’ve been up for hours and have been trying to fall sleep. Every time you’d feel yourself fall asleep, you’d start thinking of Nick finding you at Jake’s house and then get paranoid. Then, when you finally did fall asleep, you were riddled with memories of when you were missing. 

The dream was always the same. The man who took you standing over your bloodied body and smiling from ear to ear, a bloodied knife in his hand. Then, it would cut to you hanging from your hands being whipped and finally, when you were left for dead in the patch of grass.

You look at the time on your phone and read, 4:33 AM. So instead of just staying in bed, you get up and begin to walk into the kitchen to get a glass of milk. 

Maybe some warm milk would help.

You walk into the kitchen begin warming the milk when you start to look through the cupboards for some Nesquik. 

“Surely this guy has to have some coco powder,” you whisper to yourself. 

Opening the pantry in the corner of the kitchen, you find a huge tub of chocolate powder and almost laugh at the absurdity. 

It was almost the size of a box of cereal. 

The microwave goes off, making you turn in time to see Jake standing in the doorway with a little smirk on his face. 

“What’re you doing?” he asks.

“Making myself chocolate milk,” you say, hugging the tub close to your chest. “Why are you up so early?”

“Bob and Coyote came to drop off your car,” he tells you. “And I have PT.”

When you step out into the, now lit, kitchen, you see he’s wearing the navy blue PT shorts and jacket. He looked really good in them, which was weird because every always looks dorky. But for some reason, Jake looked good.

“Well, I’ll probably see you in an hour or so,” he says, looking you up and down. He’s halfway out the kitchen when he calls out, “Nice pjs, you should wear that out!”

You look down and nearly slap your forehead. 

You were wearing nothing but a pair of bright pink panties and an oversized Star Wars shirt that may or may not have been see-through. 

What a great first day of living with Jake.

Next part here!!

tags: @lonelysoul50 @akilatwt @russopalette @emma8895eb @djs8891

[kalinara]

So recent posts have got me thinking about the Throuple, and how I personally feel about it. And I'll be honest. I dislike it and I love it.

I dislike it because, ultimately, there really isn't much there. A couple of suggestive panels, a house schematic, one scene of expressed attraction between the guys, one scene that seems really heavily implied that they'd intended to go to bed together (I'll post that later, it's from early X-Force and it's pretty suggestive, IMO), and a few cameos in pride issues.

If Marvel was advertising this relationship, I'd call it queer-baiting at best.

But I always kind of wonder about the background of things. And I tend to assume that the Throuple was never intended to be a thing by the suits and higher ups. I think maybe a few creative types kept slipping things under the radar.

It does mean, unfortunately, that, in terms of actual story or emotional development, it's lacking. I mean, look, biased Scott fan that I am, I would have REALLY liked to see Logan apologize for basically everything AvX onward before those two characters hopped into bed together. I'd like to see Jean get to have opinions about everything that happened while she was gone (many things that she'd now remember from her younger self's point of view), before that happened too. These are characters with a lot of history.

So in terms of execution, the Throuple is a fizzle. (Hell, even the Jean/Logan side barely got off the ground. Some bits where she kept him alive when he was trying to save Xavier through time - which she'd have done even if he were just a friend. And one sex scene in the hot springs. That really feels like a satisfying culmination of decades of yearning. If I were a Jean/Logan fan, honestly, I'd probably feel cheated.)

But you know, I do love it for other reasons. Because however shitty the execution, the IDEA is firmly planted and that idea isn't going away.

All you have to do is go on reddit or tiktok and see anytime one of those toxic masculinity fanboys starts bitching about how Logan is 100% straight "blah blah woke agenda", and you get at least three people jabbing back "yeah, except on the moon".

And that's the genius of it. Because NO one likes those particular fans. And so even people who are utterly indifferent to the idea of the Throuple. Even folks who dislike the execution are very pleased to troll that hypothetical dude at every chance.

Marvel can say what they want. Brevoort (whether he believes it or is just Marvel's spokesperson) can say what he wants. The fact that the annoying fanboys go "I'm so glad he didn't walk back his denial and cater to the wake agenda" are just admitting that there's something TO deny.

I'll be honest, I suspect the issue is Logan's fanbase. It's the largest by far and Marvel doesn't want to alienate the straight men in the crowd. But the thing is, they're aging out. And younger generations of fans are more openly queer than we are, and definitely more than our parents were. This is going to be a non-issue. Especially when the new generations start running the asylum.

It'll take a long time, of course, and there'll be a lot of bullshit before then. But you can't put the genie back in the bottle. The idea is out there. And like Kitty, Rachel, Betsy, Bobby, Mystique and Destiny, Rictor and Shatterstar, EVENTUALLY we'll get to the point where Marvel admits what we all know. (And we knew for a while. The Throuple didn't come out of nowhere.)

Marvel's most famous and popular X-Men character is queer.

More than half of the Original X-Men, that earliest dream that creators never seem to be able to stop revisiting, are queer*.

The flag ship pairing of the X-Men involves a woman and a man who are queer*.

That's pretty awesome.

(*I know technically we're talking about an MMF throuple and it doesn't rule out Jean being straight, but let's be honest here. Jean's got more than enough suggestive interaction with Storm, Emma, Lorna and Wanda to make a strong enough case for bisexuality in her own right.)

[rockermybuddie]

Misunderstanding

Tommy x Evan “Buck”

A/n: i write a lot of Tommy and Buck. Imma write something different. Eventually.

Summary: Its Bucks off day and he decided he was going to bake some cookies and bring them to Tommy at work. When he arrives he spots Tommy talking to someone hes never seen before. Hes about to walk over to his boyfriend when the man kisses Tommy. Buck stops and turns around walking away before seeing or hearing Tommys reaction.

————

~Bucks POV~

I feel Tommys lips on mine as he gives me a goodbye kiss. “See you later.” He whispers. I hear the bedroom door click shut and drift back into sleeping.

When i woke up i made me some oatmeal and watched an episode of The Bachelor. When i was done i was bored. Eddie went down to Texas to vist with Christopher. I’m glad the two are making mends, i know it hurt Eddie when Chris left to live with his grandparents in Texas.

Maddie and Chim are taking a short trip to Long Beach. And Hen and Karin are dealing with the foster people to get Nia. So im out of options when it comes to hanging out with someone.

I decided im going to bake some cookies for Tommy and his station, so i get to work. I’m going to make a variety and an allergy free batch.

Once i finished i put the cookies in some boxes and loaded them into my jeep. I didnt text Tommy that i was coming because i want it to be a surprise.

When i arrived i parked my jeep and grabbed the boxes of cookies with a big smile on my face. I walked into the station and scanned the area looking for Tommy.

“Looking for Tommy?” Someone asks. “Yes.” I answer. Everyone here knows who i am. “Hes upstairs in the kitchen.” The person says. “Thanks.” I smile and make my way up the stairs.

When i get to the top i turn the corner and see Tommy talking to someone i’ve never seen before. Hes tall and skinny but well built, he has short curly blonde hair. I cant tell what color his eyes are but the way he is looking at Tommy is making me uneasy and hes standing really close to Tommy. Tommy is leaning against the counter just keeping conversation.

I was about to say his name when the guy leans forwards giving Tommy a kiss. That was all i needed to see even though thats not what i wanted to see. My heart instantly sank and i turned away and got out of there as fast as i could.

I threw the boxes of cookies in the trunk not caring if they spilled out and drove out of there as fast as I could.

I drove to my apartment because i obviously didnt want to go back to Tommys bouse where i’ve been staying at most of the time anyways.

When i walked in it was kind of cold but it didn’t bother me because i was flamming with anger. I cant believe Tommy kissed another guy. I tried not to cry but it was too hard to hold back. I really thought he was the one, that he wouldnt cheat on me. I guess i was wrong.

——-

~Tommys POV~

Everything was going fine at work, had a few easy calls. We got a new person his name is Kaleb Green, great young kid. Hes been doing really good.

We were in the kitchen just talking about why we wanted to become a firefighter and the craziest calls we have ever been on.

“So is your locker the one with the gay pride flag on it?” He asks me. “Yes?” I answer carefully. I dont think this kid is a homophobe or anything but im alway cautious when it comes to telling people. I have no shame in being a gay man but having such a masculine job some people may see me differently.

“Thats so cool. Another gay firefighter. I’ve never met another one. I dont feel so alone now.” He says. “Oh, well actually…” i was going to tell him about Evan but before i could finish my sentence he leaned forward and kissed me. I definitely was not expecting that.

“Dude! What the hell?!” I shout shoving him off of me. “Sorry. Too far?” He stupidly asks. “Yes way too far! Plus i have a boyfriend. He happens to be a firefighter too.” I snap. “Please dont report me. I really like it here” he begs. “Too late.” I tell him walking out of the kitchen.

I walk downstairs to report him when i see a familiar grey jeep leaving the parking lot pretty fast. I hope that wasnt Evan.

“Hey Kinard, what did Evan bring you?” Steven asks from a far. “Shit” i say under my breath that was Evan and he probably saw what happened in the kitchen because i never saw him.

I was about to ask if i could handle this when a call came through. I had to push down my anger and my worries about what just happened and focus on the call. God i hope its a simple call so it goes by fast.

It was not. It was a warehouse fire and the warehouse contained toxic chemicals so everything we did had to be done carefully and correctly. It took the rest of the shift.

We finally got back to the station at 11pm. I grabbed my bag and headed straight for my truck. “Hey Kinard.” I hear Kaleb call out behind me. “Dont talk to me. You most likely just ended my relationship with Evan and he was the best thing thats ever came into my life.” I snap at him. Which I probably said too much, based off his facial expressions, but i need to talk to Evan tell him what happened and pray that he believes me. “Let me talk to him, then i’ll ask for a new placement.” Kaleb says, “let me fix this.” He adds. “No you are not talking to him and yes find a new placement. Its not going to work for you here.” I tell him throwing my bag in the truck and drove home.

——

When i arrive home i dont see Evans jeep which means hes not here. I dont know why i thought he would be at my house after all. I mean yeah hes been staying here most of his time anyways but this would be the last place he would come after seeing another guy kiss me.

I try calling him and texting him but hes not answering, rightfully so. I drive over to his apartment next. I see his jeep parked in its usual spot so i know hes here.

I knock on his door immediately when i arrive. No response. “Evan its me. Please can we talk?” I ask through the door loud enough he should be able to here me. After a few more moments of knocking and asking nicely I threaten to do a welfare check and kick down his door.

I then heard the sound of locks unlocking and the door opened to a cold apartment and a tall Evan with a tear stained face and a angry blank expression.

“Evan please listen, i didnt kiss him. He kissed me.”i say, this is a lot more nerve racking than i thought. Its so hard not to stutter and to hse the right wording. “I saw you Tommy.” Evans voice cracks, he walks to the other end of the table while im at the other. Hes so close but het so far.

“Evan i would never cheat on you. Please believe me. We were talking and he asked if my locker was the one with the gay pride flag. Next thing i felt his lips on mine and i pushed him away. I swear.” I tell him the whole story but i cant tell if he believes me or not.

How do you convince your partner that you aren’t cheating on them when they saw another guy kiss you? I feel like im losing him and i really dont want to.

——-

~Bucks POV~

I listen to what Tommy is telling me and my brain is telling me not to believe him but my heart is telling me that hes telling the truth. Because Tommy is the first person to ever so me the type of personal affection, how it feels to be loved. Even though we haven’t said it yet we can feel it when we cuddle, when we get intimate, and when we say the same thing at the same time.

But in this case what do i go with my brain or my heart? Part of me wants to just believe him and go back to how things were but the other half wants to kick him out of my apartment and never talk to him again.

“Evan everyone in this situation had a misunderstanding.” Tommy says. “How am I misunderstanding this Tommy?” I ask in anger. “Okay, okah, im sorry. Wrong words here. Kaleb had a misunderstanding with what i said and he didnt let me finish talking before he kissed me. I was literally about to tell him about you when he kissed me.” Tommy explains.

“Thats what they all say.” I mumble under my breath. “Say what?” Tommy asks. “That the other person kissed them.” I answer. “Evan….” Tommy says, he can tell hes losing me.

It was quiet for a few moments as each of us trys to think of something. “I’ll come get my stuff tomorrow.” I say finally breaking the silence. “W-w-w-what?” Tommy stutters. “I said i’ll come get my stuff from your house tomorrow. While your at work so we dont see each other.” I repeat. Evans face goes into panic mode as he runs a frantic hand through his rough hair.

“Evan please. Im telling the truth. Listen Kaleb said he will talk to you. He’ll tell you everything i just said is true.” Tommy says all in one breath trying to convince me. “Please leave Tommy.” I ask. I’ve been hurt by too many people that are supposed to love me to try again and risk getting hurt again and again and again.

“Evan, baby please.” Tommy begs. “Stop. Get out Tommy. Get out before i call the police.” I command. Tommy rubs his chin with his hand as he turns to the door. He looks back at me one more time before he forces himself out the door.

Now im all alone, again. I should just stay single the rest of my life clearly everyone is going to hurt me when i get close to them.

——

The next day i wait intil i know Tommy is going to be at work so i can go get my clothes from over there.

When i arrive i dont see his truck which means he went to work today. I walk up to the door and i go to type in the code to unlock the door when the door opens. I look up and see the guy from yesterday. Kaleb.

I wanted to punch the guy so bad. He messed up the one good thing i had in my life. “Evan, right?” He asks. “So you’re Tommys new side piece huh?” I snarl. “Please let me explain myself. I never ment for any of this to happen. Can we just talk?” He asks stepping aside for me to come in. I roll my eyes and walk into the house.

I took a seat at the island in the kitchen as I listened to Kaleb talk. He basically said that it was his fault that he made the move and he ruined his chance at the firehouse. He said that he’s been transferred to a new one.

“So do you believe Tommy now? That he wouldn’t cheat on you?” Kaleb asks. “He was going to come tell you instantly but we got a call. You know how it is.” “Yeah.” Is all i say. “Well i have to get going. I really hope you can forgive Tommy. He really loves you.” Kaleb says as he lets himself out.

I sat at the kitchen island with my head in my hands thinking about what to do when i saw Tommy standing in the entrance of the kitchen leaning against the wall frame.

His body language was soft and his face was filled with regret. Hearing both sides of the story and that basically Tommy was telling the truth made it a little easier to go with my heart. But still knowing another guy kissed him hurts a little.

——

~Tomms POV~

I stood there and watched Evan as he proceeded what Kaleb told him. I can’t believe i caved and let Kaleb talk to Evan but its the only thing I could think of that could save mine and Evans relationship.

“So its true.” Evan finally says. “Yes.” I say. “A lot of people hurt me in the last Tommy.” He says. “I know. I never wanted to be one of them.” I try to control my voice to keep it steady.

“I know.” Evan says, “it still hurts that another guy kissed you.” He says. “It wont happen again. I swear to you Evan.” I promise him. “I know.” He says, a small smile spread across my face.

I walk towards him keeping an eye on his body language. “So do you forgive me?” I ask when im standing in front of him. I feel like im shaking as i wait for an answer. “Yes.” Evan tilts his head up and makes eye contact with me.

A smile spread my face as i lifted his chin up with my finger and connected my lips to his. God it felt so good to feel his lips against mine again. “What were you bringing me yesterday?” I ask out of curiosity. “Cookies. They are spilled in the back of my jeep.” He answers. “You taste better than cookies.” I say shrugging my shoulders. He smiles at that.

“I missed you so much.” I say against his lips resting my forehead against his. “I missed you too.” He says. I cradle the back of his head with my hand as i take his mouth back into mine.

I have him back and im never letting him go again.

——-

A/n: I hope you enjoyed the story!

[kindheartgale]

More than Godhood | 3D Artwork & Story

What I believe Gale felt after that moment with Tav — when she revealed her love for him - "You are more to me than magic, Gale", and he realized he didn’t need Karsus’s power to be worthy of her. It was as though the weight of his ambition lifted, and for the first time, he understood that love, real and unconditional, was all he had ever truly needed. In that moment, the promise of godhood faded, and the man he was — the one Tav loved — was enough.

More than Godhood | 3D Artwork & Story behind it

I took her to the stars. Not for the poetry of it — though, with her, everything becomes poetry. No, I meant it as a revelation. A confession. I had hoped to show her the breadth of what I might become. The power I once held, the heights I still believed I could reach. I wanted her to see the celestial abyss, to understand the promise I once chased — to better the gods themselves, to seize that brilliance and become a wizard of legend once more. To become... worthy. Because how could the man I am now — the one who walked beside her with half a heart and fractured pride — ever be enough for her? But when she looked at me, she didn’t see the abyss I tried to fill. She loved me. Not the idea of me — not the promise, not the potential, not the power I might one day wield. No. She loved the man who’d been with her all along. The one who held her in laughter, offered her his wit in place of certainty, who gave his warmth freely even when his own soul shivered with doubt. She saw strength not in spells but in tenderness. Not in dominance over the arcane, but in the quiet devotion of shared nights, of whispered comforts, of love made and remade beneath the stars. She truly saw me not in what I could conquer, but in the way I stayed — in touch, in breath, in all the sacred, unspoken hours we built between us. She loved not what I could become — but what I already was. And then, softly — as if afraid to ask too much — she said she only hoped I could want her the same way. As she was, because she would never seek power. It struck me like a spell to the chest. My breath caught. This woman — radiant, maddening, miraculous — was offering me something I had not dared to believe I still deserved after all that had happened: love, undeserved, unmeasured, and entirely real. I sat with her among the stars, a storm in my chest. Not of ambition, but of awe. That all this time, I had sought magic to fill the hollow parts of me — and here she was, turning that emptiness into something full. Sacred, even. And then she kissed me — gently, reverently — as if I were her dream made real. Not a god. Not a legend. Just... me. I had believed that power was the measure of my worth — that to love, I had to prove myself greater than what I was. But in her arms, I understood: I had never needed power at all. Her love, unearned yet freely given, made me whole — not a god, not a legend, but simply the man I was meant to be. -----------------

🔮 As always, you can find me on Instagram, Bsky, X, YouTube - www.kindheartgale.carrd.co (who knows which one will take it down - some suggestive content might be flagged) 🌿Stay as long as you’d like, and if you feel like sharing, I’m here to listen 💌 Dm me if you want your Tav in this scene

[lothcatthree]

my darling<3<3 i have very much enjoyed everything you've told me about the coffee/pastry shop au so feel free to feed me more (pun intended) but i am also very intrigued by this ballerina au 👀👀

hi babe!!! sorry this took so long, but i got my ass in gear and made a snippet.

(psst, @brokenphoenix99 @violentcheese @forloveofcodywan @halfwaytoknowhere this one is for y'all too)

here, obi-wan is a professional ballerina and cody is an ex-marine who decided to be a sports medicine physical therapist at a clinic owned by kix. waxer is a kindergarten teacher, which isn't important to the plot but i thought you'd like that info <3

this would be another long-ish fic where obi-wan starts out as cody's patient and ends up pursuing him. cody is very confused because he's trying to stay professional, but obi-wan is so handsome and nice and funny and goddammit he's making cody fall in love with him, ethics be damned.

hilarity and shenanigans ensue.

here's a snippet for their first meeting (obi-wan gets to be a little slutty, as a treat)

Cody is a professional, you see.

He’s never had an issue separating work from his personal life, which really hasn’t been difficult, seeing as most of his patients have been teenaged athletes or huge burly football players that speak a grand total of five words to Cody and prefer to communicate through grunts and pointing at where it hurts.

And then there’s Obi-Wan.

When Cody heard he was being referred to a new client, a professional ballerina, Cody expected something like a tiny, rail-thin person to walk through his door with shitty ankles and a shittier attitude. Not that Cody has anything against ballerinas, specifically, but his only experience has been movies and TV shows and sue him for never meeting one in person.

And then…

There’s Obi-Wan.

Cody is not expecting the man that does walk through the door of the clinic with bright blue eyes, a kind smile, and soft auburn hair that falls just above his shoulders. Where Cody expected all ballerinas to be sharp edges, this man just looks so… soft.

And then he speaks.

“Hi, my name is Obi-Wan. I’m here to see…” Obi-Wan trails off and checks his phone, “Dr. Cody Fett?”

Cody springs into action from where he was more or less creepily lurking in the clinic, watching from a spot that gives him a view of the front desk. It’s his favorite spot to throw things at Jesse, their receptionist, when he’s not looking.

Cody strides into the lobby, attempting to act casual and if he wasn’t just gawking over the man that walked in. The man’s (Obi-Wan, Cody reminds himself) eyes dart to him and Cody tries to keep a straight face, but it feels like he’s burning under the gaze for some reason.

“Hi, that’s me,” Cody curves around the desk and stands a few feet in front of Obi-Wan, extending a hand.

Obi-Wan offers him another smile; a flash of white teeth and a small dimple on his chin. Cody watches his eyes assess Cody and dip down his body, but Cody brushes it off. It’s not the first time a patient has checked him out, though usually they’re more subtle.

He quickly sets the water bottle he’s carrying (it’s covered in stickers, and Cody registers a pride flag sticker, but decides to shove that information away) onto the desk to shake Cody’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you. Thank you for getting me into your schedule so quickly. I have a recital coming up in a few weeks and I really need to get this bum knee figured out,” Obi-Wan says, taking his hand away and gesturing to his right knee, which is covered in a brace that fits underneath the hem of his biker shorts.

Cody returns his hand to his side, sliding it into the pocket of his black scrub joggers and politely laughs. He has the urge to ask where Obi-Wan’s (wonderfully smooth) accent is from, but that’s got nothing to do with his care and Cody internally chastises himself.

Focus.

“It’s no problem. Why don’t you go ahead and come back with me and we can figure out what’s going on? You can put your stuff on that table at the back” Cody says, gesturing to some cubbies they got for free when Waxer emptied out his old classroom.

Obi-Wan shoots him a grateful smile and begins walking into the clinic just ahead of Cody. After a step, though, Obi-Wan drops his phone, which would be fine, except he abruptly bends at the waist to pick it up. His back arches probably a little more than necessary, and the biker shorts don’t leave a lot of his body to the imagination.

Cody, thanking every possible deity that he still has quick reflexes from his Marine days, stops and flies a hand out to grip the desk to prevent himself from tripping and promptly running his pelvis into what is, unfortunately, a fantastic ass.

Obi-Wan grabs his phone and stands back up fluidly, turning over his shoulder to shoot Cody a smile that, well… It's been a while since Cody’s gotten around, but he could swear it’s flirtatious.

“Sorry. Can’t bend at the knees,” Obi-Wan explains, but he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

In fact, he quickly drags his eyes down Cody’s body and Cody could swear he bites his lip before turning on his heel and walking to the cubbies.

Cody doesn’t respond and he feels his face has heated up, so he turns to Jesse to make sure that all of that actually just happened. Jesse turns from where he was watching Obi-Wan and looks to Cody with slightly raised brows before he gets a look at Cody’s blush and bites his lip to hide a smile.

“Did you se-” Cody begins to whisper.

“I saw it,” Jesse nods and snickers.

Cody blinks dumbly at Jesse, his systems still a little offline as he tries to process that a patient (a beautiful one, but that’s entirely besides the point) just openly flirted with him and tried to get him to look at his ass (it worked, but that’s entirely besides the point).

Jesse looks over at Obi-Wan again and breaks out into an amused grin, his hand coming up to rub at his mouth. He turns to look at Cody again and Cody is a little scared of what he just saw.

Jesse jerks his head over to Obi-Wan and Cody gulps before looking over there. Obi-Wan is working on re-tying his shoes, which is innocent enough, but…

That motherfucker is bending at the knee.

[mads-mishmashes]

how about a spritz of queer religious trauma induced lyrical analysis for your day ?!?!??!

you down? GREAT read on 🌼

*NOTE - this is not the interpretation anybody probably intended from this song, this is just my own personal joy found in it*

here are some lyrics from the song hallelujah, specifically the jeff buckley cover (not that it matters but.. it does):

I am a queer woman who was raised in the church and now has an ambiguous relationship with religion as a whole. And man, these LYRICS!! They fill my soul.

"Baby, I've been here before / I've seen this room and I've walked this floor"

I see this partially as a call to younger queer people, as an "it gets better, ive been there". But I also see this as a message towards those who are currently religious. I was deeply pious at one point in my life (before a lot of thinking and feeling went down). I know how.. everything works. I was you. I understand your church more than you know. Don't exclude me or cast my feelings to the side because I am not involved in it anymore.

"You know, I used to live alone before I knew you"

My journey through religion (and out of it) was a very, very introspective and intense one. Walking out on that felt like living alone. Learning independence and identity was a grueling, but beautiful thing (and heck, I still am).

"And I've seen your flag on the marble arch, and love is not a victory march.

I've been to a few pride parades and love them- this is not a dig at pride for me. It's a recognition that everything is... so much deeper than pride. Pride is what happens when you are alone at night and telling yourself that you are, truly, okay for being queer. Pride is what happens when you hold your partners hand in public despite being scared. Pride is wearing what you want because it makes you feel good. It's little. Not explosive. (Most of the time).

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

Pride is to be found in exhales of air, sweat, blood, and tears. It is filled with hardship- with the screams of protests that have gone on longer than we've been alive. The most human hallelujah is not a sweet one. It's the sigh of relief when you come out to somebody and they dont.. leave your life forever. It's the trauma that comes from years, and years, and years of hiding and fear and hatred. And the realization that you have survived and you stand here still today to continue fighting. THAT is hallelujah. And some may never understand. But you do.

[lilith0fthevalley]

What's a Seer to a Prince? {Demon Prince!Wesker x Fem!Reader} 1/3

{{THIS IS NOT PART OF SUMMERWEEN!!! I JUST WANTED TO WRITE SOME DEMON!WESKER!}} Masterlist Next Part

“Y/N, you have to promise me that you will never engage with the demon…” Your aging grandmother begged you on the day of your 14th birthday. The age is a special one in your strange little family. It is the age where the ability of Sight is gifted to a very lucky-or unlucky-female family member. 

Sight allows one to be able to display a particular sensitivity to the supernatural.  Your previous Sight-gifted ancestors chose to do different things with their abilities. Aunt Jess became a spirit medium to help loved ones who were having difficulty moving on; Gram-Gram would travel the world in her youth researching and publishing the truths of various mythologies; And of course, your Great great great great grandmother Alexandra became the oracle for a religious temple. In spite of the differing paths, each family member gifted with Sight has one thing in common… A particular demon makes an appearance and attempts to sway the family member from their personal devotion��� 

You sit at the bar, nursing a drink as your friends rant and ramble about what they’ve been up to since you last saw them. You nod along absentmindedly as their words flow through one ear and out the other. You’re more focused on the woman at the end of the bar being crowded by spirits of regret, whispering wicked things in her ears. 

‘Poor thing looks like she’s about to snap… Ah, fuck it. I better step in.’ You think to yourself and push your drink aside. 

“Neat! Give me just a sec, I have to run to the bathroom.” You dismiss yourself from your friends without waiting for a response. As you approach the woman and her unwelcome hitchhikers, you subtly pluck a dried ball of herbs and crush it between your fingers. A concoction Gram-Gram had taught you before she passed to rid a normal person from being tormented by low level spirits. You're so focused on the spirit’s reactions, you don’t notice the new patron on the other side of the bar… 

“Aunt Jess? What does the demon look like?” You asked when you were 16. Your eclectic aunt blew out the smoke from her long cigarette holder out and narrowed her bright green eyes. “Well, Little Seer,” she began, using the nickname she had dubbed you since your Sight was granted, “He looks different to all of us. But make no mistake, he is still the same demon. The Prince of Pride. An archdemon of unholy knowledge, the likes of which humans shouldn’t have access to.” “But, if he’s different every time, how am I supposed to know that he’s… Y’know… Bad?” You implore with a slight whine. She hums and lets her eyes close for a bit before continuing.  “Well, let me explain how I first encountered him… To me, he was a tall, skinny man I met in this city. He was acting as a cop. Pulled me over for speeding… But, the moment he came up to the window, I could smell the stench of brimstone and the malevolence that clung to him like a second skin.” She shivers, “But, Little Seer, it’s all in the eyes…”

The new addition to the bar is a tall, blond man with hair pressed back perfectly. Dark shades perch on his sharp nose and a black wool coat rests on his shoulders, which are adorned with a subtly striped charcoal button up. He looks like a business man of sorts… Well, to those who don’t have Sight… But to you, he’s practically a walking red flag. 

With a hand gloved with black leather, he gently tilts the woman’s face up and coos gently. “Poor sweet thing… You have a bit too much on your plate, don’t you?” Almost instantly, the woman goes slack–pliant in his hand, as if under control. She nods and he grins a perfectly white, razor sharp grin as he leans down to her ear and whispers something further. 

‘A Demon. Shit, I have to get out of here.’ Your mind whirls as you turn on your heel and retreat back to your friends. “We have to go.” You order quickly when you get back to the group. “What?? What do you mean-” “Now.” You growl and look back in the direction you came, brain coming up with a believable lie to usher them out of the bar.

“I uh… Got into a scrap with someone.” You murmur out, clearly distracted. One of them chuckle and stand. “You always end up getting into fights… How do you do it?” She muses and tosses some cash onto the bar top. 

“Alright fuckers. If you don’t want to lose your ride home, get a move on.” She demands and heads to the front. You let out a breath of relief and as each friend files out, you crane your neck to see if you can see the demon and the poor woman he chose as his next meal…

But the seat she was sitting in, is empty… 

[dreamersbcll]

Tolerate It

i take your indiscretions all in good fun

(this is who i am. do you still want me?)

——————————————————————————

Tara had never been good at subtlety.

Everything about her was erratic, chaotic, undone. She had never really been able to be calm, collected, even put together. Either things happened all at once randomly, or they never happened at all.

She could never truly get a grasp on what she wanted or what she needed to say. She held onto everything by the skin of her teeth, hoping she could let go and be caught by someone who would love her regardless of her maximalist style of living.

No one ever did. But it was a nice thought to have. Maybe, just maybe, somebody would save her from herself. She didn’t mean to be so callous, so weak, so fucking undone. She wanted to be able to shut up and close her dumb fucking mouth. All she ever wanted was to be collected, quiet, and orderly.

Just like Sam once was.

But Sam wasn’t here anymore.

And sinners couldn’t beg for the life that they had chosen.

It wasn’t really a surprise that she came out to her mother by blurting it out on the phone.

While at a pride parade.

With her girlfriend Amber at her side.

One moment, she was walking the streets of San Francisco with Amber in one hand and a lesbian pride flag in the other; the next, she was lying flat on her back in a whole parking lot, wheezing.

Tara knew that going to a pride parade was risky for numerous reasons. The crowds, the protestors, the fact she was a couple hours away from home- all daunting ideas. But with her girlfriend on her arm and her best friends trailing behind her, Tara almost felt okay.

She had spent three hours getting ready the morning off, setting out the clothes and makeup she had saved up for months at the foot of her bed. Like it was the first day of school, and Tara would have the best day. In a way, it was the first day of her life, the first day of stepping into the body she was always meant to be.

The atmosphere was otherworldly. Magical, maybe. Tara didn’t really have the words for it. She could feel her heart pounding, no, fluttering like she was lightweight and truly alive. She didn’t know that seeing people just like her was a possibility- that maybe she wasn’t alone in this vast world and there were people to love and accept her for who she was.

She knows that her parents, even her big sister, wouldn't.

But if a random drag queen could bend down and pepper her cheeks with kisses and place a pride flag into her outstretched hand with a wink, maybe it would all be okay.

Since she was eleven, Tara knew that something wasn't right. She didn’t have crushes on boys, and she didn’t want a boyfriend. Disney princess movies didn’t really make sense to her, and neither did a true love's kiss. How could her true love be a man? Tara didn’t need a man. She just needed her friends and family.

Tara didn't have her family, but she did get her friends. It was when she turned thirteen that she realized what was different about her—once she found out that Amber was dating Nick Perez. And it was when she turned fourteen that she whispered her secret to Mindy and cried in her arms after.

At sixteen years old, Tara confessed her feelings, and it turns out Amber felt the same. It was fate.

Fate was good for a while. Naturally, she had to hide everything about herself from her mother- as being queer in a Latin family was a sin worse than murder. Tara could be a pedophile or go to prison for attacking someone- but it would never match up to the crime of being gay.

God loved her. But God couldn’t save her from temptation. Tara had to do that herself.

How could she do that when temptation felt so good? Not being herself would be choosing an early grave, one dug by her own hands. She knows that gay people don’t go to heaven, and they aren’t saved by God’s divine hand. She knows that she is destined for an eternity in hell, flame and terror forever.

But she couldn’t help herself.

Nobody could make her happy like Amber or make her laugh hard and true. Her girlfriend’s kisses felt like her heart was sewn back together, her touch erasing the ruler slaps and bruised knees. Despite Amber’s quick anger and brooding silences, the girl loved Tara like she was brand new. It gave Tara a reason to live, to keep going.

Maybe God would accept her. Maybe he wouldn’t smite her. Maybe, just maybe, it would all be okay.

And then her phone rang while she walked the rainbow-covered streets of Sin City. Christina Carpenter. The devil all the time in Tara’s life, the bearer of all things evil. Her mother was supposed to be on a two-week work trip out in Switzerland or Poland. Somewhere far away.

Yet Christina Carpenter always knew when something was wrong in her household. Somehow, that woman always knew. It was as if she could sniff the gay on Tara, the sin of flesh and lust. The same evil that she forced Tara to pray on her knees to absolve.

Tara wasn’t sure if the bruises on her knees or the lacerations on her heart would ever truly fade. All she knew was sinning, and all she wanted was to be forgiven.

She almost was. But despite Amber’s pleas for Tara not to answer the phone, Tara still did. Who was she to turn down the woman who gave her life, gave her the body she was destined to be? She could never say no to her mother. Blood was blood.

Even if her mother spilled most of Tara’s blood without a care.

She shakily raised the phone to her ear, swallowing hard. “Mom?”

Cold and unforgiving, Christina dug in. “¿Dónde estás? Tu teléfono dice que no estás en casa. ¿San Francisco, Tara? Explícate.”

Tara closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. Amber had pulled her into an empty parking lot, forcing Tara to sit down and breathe. Though her girlfriend could be rash and unforgiving, she still loved Tara, and it showed in moments like these.

“Mami, I, I’m out with my friends. Hay una "cosa" en San Francisco. I’ll be home later,” she slowly said, trying to breathe.

While her mom screamed in her ear about “skirting her responsibilities” and “spending the money she made for her ungrateful ass,” anger started to bubble up in Tara’s stomach.

She was so tired of being the punching bag. The scapegoat. The pincushion. The hangman of the Carpenter family. Fuck that. People like her surrounded her. Tara wasn’t alone. She had a support system. Fuck what her mom thought. Tara had a taste of freedom, and she wouldn’t let it go.

“Mami. I’m gay—a lesbian. I’m a lesbian,” she said coldly, cutting off her mother’s venomous rant.

A beat passed. Silence filled Tara’s ears besides the sound of a lively community around her. Her mother said nothing, only her breathing signaling Tara that she hadn’t hung up.

Tara swallowed uncomfortably, her hands shaking. She could feel her body grow light, signaling an asthma attack. Her breathing picked up, and though Amber looked so proud and smug, she could sense what was coming. Her girlfriend held her hand and nodded to Tara, mouthing I Am Proud Of You.

She didn’t know why she did what she did. It was rash and without thought. She loaded and folded the gun, shooting blindly, thinking that she would win and be free.

Freedom. That was never in the cards for her. She would always be the little girl begging for her mami’s attention, her love. But her mother never gave her that, only bruises and tears in her heart. Her mother took everything and offered nothing in return- and she did it with a smile on her face.

And once again, her mother did what she did best. Callously, Christina replied, breaking Tara’s heart for the umpteenth time.

“Tú no eres mi hija. Soy una madre sin hijos. No vengas a casa.”

Click.

Tara looked up at her eager girlfriend, her phone slipping out of her hand. Water welled in her eyes, hot tears washing off the glitter she had fearlessly painted onto her cheeks earlier. The pride flag she had held onto so tightly fell out of her hand, tumbling onto the ground. The colors shined back up to Tara, a previously safe place, now tainted.

She was so stupid. So stupid. She had promised herself to wait, to hold back. Coming out while in high school was a stupid idea- she had to wait until she was out and free like Sam was.

But she couldn’t help herself. She had to ruin every good thing she ever touched and taint it with the same beast that lived inside of her.

Amber reached for Tara’s face, ignoring how the girl flinched at the effort. She cupped her girlfriend’s face, rubbing at the ruined glittery makeup.

“What happened, honey? Are you free?” she whispered, smearing the rainbow that took Tara an hour to create.

Tara closed her eyes, letting her girlfriend wipe away the pride that would be the death of her anyway.

“She doesn’t want me anymore,” she half-sobbed, her heart-shattering.

She just wanted her mami. Her mami was all she had left of a broken family line. Tara just wanted her mami to love her, to want her.

That’s all she wanted.

Her girlfriend tilted her head, eyes dark. “Did she ever?” she carefully replied, her thumb smearing glitter down Tara’s face.

Flinching violently at the words, Tara curled in on herself, her hands going to her chest, nails digging into the flesh that lay above the collarbone. Amber was right. Who could ever leave her? Who could stay?

Who could ever want a tainted little girl anyway?

She whimpered, holding onto her aching heart. “I don’t know. But I didn’t want her to leave.”

Amber shook her head. “Then you were the stupid one to believe things could be different. That she could love you even though you’re a dyke. This one’s on you, Tara.”

And with that, her girlfriend walked off, presumably to find something to drink. Tara curled up on herself, her body lying on the ground, the scalding pavement burning her skin down to her bones.

It was time to practice for her afterlife anyway.

[notsocheezy]

Brain Curd #280

Brain Curds are lightly edited daily writing - usually flash fiction and sometimes terrible on purpose.

The following material is classified - unless you've read the rest of Government Man here on Tumblr!

The CIA food court was decorated corner to corner with festive adornment, and tables were pushed together into buffet lines with ham, turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, casseroles, cider, and (Government Man’s favorite) heavily spiked eggnog.

He poured another tiny glass of it from the oversized ladle, spilling some on the side that he gleefully licked up. Government Woman came to his side and squeezed his arm.

“Hello, Government Man.”

“Hello, Government Woman.”

“Do you know what I would like for Christmas?”

“I do not.”

She motioned up to the ceiling, where a sprig of mistletoe hung, swaying slightly with the breeze of the climate control system. Government Man looked at it, then at her, then at it, then at her again, then at the mistletoe a final time. He reached up and snapped it off the bit of thread which attached it to the rafters.

“Here you go, Government Woman. I am always happy to help you reach things that are too high up.”

He then walked away, leaving Government Woman perplexed and (besides the bit of plant) empty-handed.

~

Boss Man sat in his office in the dark with a bottle of whiskey. This Christmas was not his idea of a holiday. There was nobody waiting for him at home, or at the office, or at that pizza place he liked so much. He was alone.

A knock came to the door. “Come in,” Boss Man slurred, but in the drunk way and not the offensive way.

Government Boy poked his head in. “Why are you not celebrating at the Christmas party, Boss Man?”

Boss Man sighed. “You would not understand, Government Boy.”

The boy closed the door behind him and plopped himself into the seat on the other side of the desk. “Try me.”

Boss Man looked at the photo of Government Woman on his desk. “Have you ever had a crush, Government Boy?”

“Not really. There is nobody around who is my age.”

“Ah. Perhaps we should do something about that. Anyway… the heart is a fragile thing, soothed by the contents of a bottle.”

“Boss Man, if that is true… you should really be drinking water.”

~

Government Man Alpha was enthralled by the moving pictures on Postal Fred’s television.

“So this, you say, is a ‘cartoon’?”

“Yep,” Postal Fred replied. “It’s called Frosty the Snowman. They made it in the sixties.”

“You mean during the time of The Bay of Pigs?”

“Uh… No, I think it was a little later than that.”

“And how did they make this snow person move around?”

“They just drew a lot of different drawings, I guess. Probably sent ‘em through the good ol’ United States Postal Service, too.” Fred looked at his USPS flag on the wall with great pride. “That was our golden age, before the advent of email.”

“Hm…” Alpha admired the artistry. “Are there more of these ‘cartoons’ in existence?”

“Oh, boy, you bet! There’s like a hundred different ones! Or at least a dozen. Maybe a score. That’s twenty, right?”

Alpha smiled. “Will you show me?”

Please comment, reblog, like, and follow if you enjoyed - I'd love to know what you think! See you again tomorrow.

[thetantiger]

Pride Doodles 2024!

Most of these are based off of real things I saw when me and my husband went to a pride faire this year, with my own goofy OCs as inserts. I'm going to talk about that a little bit and what it meant for me under the cut, but if you're just here for the art, all you need to know is: shoutout to that samoyed with the rainbow-dyed tail I saw.

So in order to really put into perspective as to why this pride event in particular was so meaningful to me (though, if you, reading this, are queer yourself, I'm sure the feeling isn't unfamiliar to you), let me give you a little bit of backstory. I live in rural Indiana, which is a statement in of itself. Last year I was unable to attend any pride events because me and my husband were getting married in June and, as you can imagine, being a bride the month leading up to such an event is an extremely busy time, lmao. If we could have fit it into the schedule I'm certain we would have, but it was just not possible at the time. Usually, I attend some sort of pride event every year.

Additionally, my husband's family is.. not the most supportive. I am bisexual and genderfluid, as well as demisexual (though this is not public knowledge in my real life, I'm not exactly closeted about it, I just don't bring it up a lot) and questioning polyamorous (which me and my husband are closeted about). Many members of his family regularly and casually use homophobic slurs (as well as racial ones) but his grandmother in particular is the main issue. When I first started dating my now-husband I was very forthcoming with the fact that I am genderfluid and this resulted in her somehow managing to find a way to steer the conversation into political debates surrounding trans people (trans people in sports, HRT, etc) every single time me and her interacted without fail. She has since at least slowed down about this, but highlights of conversations I've had with her since include: A, her questioning whether or not I'm actually bisexual because I've never been physically intimate with a woman (apparently being in a six month long committed relationship with somebody who thought they were a woman at the time [they're out as a trans man now] is not "bisexual enough"), B, her consistently pressuring me to dress more "feminine" because "your husband will like it better," and most recently C, where she made an entire event at dinner in a public restaurant while we were discussing planning to go to this pride faire, arguing that there should be a "straight pride parade" (and my father-in-law, bless his heart, proposed that it was as stupid as saying there should be a white history month, to which my grandmother-in-law vehemently claimed that there should be because "straight white people have been oppressed too"). I physically had to get up and leave the restaurant.

Anyway this is all to say that I was feeling particularly insecure about myself leading up to this event. It was repeatedly hammered into me that who I am was not worthy of acceptance or validation or love and even though I pride myself on being an extremely honest person about who I am and what I believe in, I felt myself repressing those things about myself. My husband has supported me through all of this (and sincerely, to that post about "please don't bring your straight cis male partners to pride," suck my fucking dick) and I cannot thank him enough for his unconditional reassurance that he loves who I am. As a matter of fact his parents were supposed to accompany us to the event but they flaked out on us, and he expressed great disappointment because he knew I was struggling with myself and that his grandmother was being bigoted and hateful and he wanted his parents to express their support by tagging along.

And then we got there.

I saw people flying their flags as capes upon their backs. I saw supportive ally parents walking alongside their kids. I saw service dogs with pride-themed vests. I saw lesbians with hand-knitted crop tops in orange and white and pink and I saw polyamorous couples enjoying each other's presence and I saw a trans woman in bright red mesh clothing and red leather heeled boots. I saw vendors selling vibrators and leather bondage harnesses with gay furry art decaled on the side of the tent and original graphic tees with giant cocks on them and yet no scarcity of asexual flags anywhere. I was offered free healthcare (though unfortunately we had crossed state lines to attend this event so I couldn't take advantage of it) and STI/STD tests and I stopped somebody to compliment their extremely well-made (and cool-looking) fursuit head and somebody else stopped me to compliment my shirt. I saw a guy just strutting down the street with his abs out, I saw amputees, I saw black women with fishnet stockings and pride-themed makeup and at least three pairs of men I'm nearly certain were partners and I felt at home. I was stopped by an older woman, who offered me a "glitter blessing." I asked what that was and she half-explained it to me and I offered her my hand. She put glitter on my hand, and told me I was loved, that I was accepted, that there will always be a place for me, and to never lose my sparkle and I cried right there in the street.

To see so many people come together, to love each other (platonically or otherwise!) unconditionally and to support one another, to craft a safe space for each other and to see people like me, unapologetic and unfiltered.. it meant the world to me. It meant everything to me.

My online friends are extremely supportive of me and my 60+ characters that are almost all unanimously queer. I've expressed insecurity about making so many of them queer, convinced it was redundant or tiring or "shoving it down their throat" and was only met with "okay and? make that bitch gay anyway." I can't thank them enough either, but sometimes you'll always run into that person that will never accept who you are no matter how "palatable" you attempt to make yourself. No matter how many shavings of yourself you lose trying desperately to smooth out the edges to please other people. No matter how much you try to conform.

So.. I've been reminded of something: to be myself. No matter how much I have to kick and claw and bite and gnash, nothing is more important than being myself. Nothing is more important than never losing myself for the illusion of acceptance from people who will never be convinced anyway.

Nothing is more important than never losing my sparkle, one could say. But perhaps that's a little cheesy.

And to anybody that can't publicly celebrate, to people that have to stay closeted for any reason, whether you're in a country that'll kill you for it or a household that'll leave you homeless for it or maybe you're just simply not ready yet, as I've said before; know that you being alive as a queer person is a radical protest in of itself to those who would have it otherwise.

I love you so much. Happy pride <3

[alvaeris]

Internet Quotes

No more gatekeep, gaslight, girlboss

It’s time for genocide

I like people how I like my tea, in a bag, underwater

First of all, cringe, second of all, red flag

SORRY I CANT HEAR YOU OVER THE EARTH SHATTERING PROSTATE ORGASM I JUST GAVE YOUR DAD

My skin is simply the spray paint god choose for me

Manipulate, Mansplain, Male Wife

Twinkie the kinky

Remember that all twink(ie)s deserve a cream filling

I used to be pan, but because of (insert reason here) I am now straighter than your left wall, I know, I live there

Didn’t like that answer, can you do a funnier one

They should also get you a bucket of water to get your partner wet

Send that bitch to god, same day delivery

Life is a journey do you really wanna end it one the pavement

Treat everyone like a serial killer who’s list you don’t wanna be on

Yes bathe the menace, they smell of rain, water, dirt, and the sins of his past. Bathe them they need it

Boot up, bitch

Why is it called boob sweat and not humidtitties

The same reason we all regret the name Worcestershire sauce

Mark my fucking worms

What do teens like?!? Is it memes? Memes about skeletons? Piss? Communism?

Listen up you one lifespan, three dimensional, five sensed skin puppets

Sorry for having great tits and correct opinions on everything as if it’s my fault

Ruin the lives of everyone around you and then die

That is the sound of childhood happening

Wear heelies to escape your feelies

The yassification of Christianity

That’s what 3 am water tastes like

Bite me as hard as you please, and make me see stars. I am yours-

Imagine a burger saying this

Me, as I force a dollar into the self-checkout machine: that’s right…good boy…vore president Washington

Stay fresh cheese bags

Honey is considered raw meat by the FDA

Actually I call it womanipulation. For feminism.

Gaslamp girlboss gatecrash or whatever

I’m learning to person from scratch okay?-

Pride and prejudice

TEENS WANT BEETLES NOT JESUS

The men are being sluts again, nature is healing

SACRÉ BLU MADEMOISELLE VAGINA HON HON HON TIDDIE CROISSANTS

TITS IS TITS

“Which do you prefer, pecs or tits?” Wtf, wtf, hello?? What are you saying to me rn??? Are you serious? Tits are tits. Love is love. Etc. don’t speak to me.

Violence is an art, your body, the louvre

It fucken WIMDY

I am the wind and I’ll rip your head off bitch

I just threw my newborn son into a blender

I am a pocket rocket of sass

I’m ga. Gey. Guay. Boys.

SHUT THE FUCK YOUR MOUTH

They were yassified ahead of their time

Forget the man and get something you can rely on, like a taco, or a milkshake

Women rights, women are equal, go to the back of the line

Apple fritter babies

They had their heads so far down when they walked out they were looking at china

You’re so boring you’d put Snorlax into a deeper sleep

I WOULDN’T REMEMBER THIS IF I WERE YOU

Alright you STD spreaders

No more manipulate, mansplain, malewife, it’s time for manslaughter

It tickles the autism in my brain

They beat Jesus with that

None pizza with left beef

Pop a wheelie into heaven

Once a man, now deemed a clown

No more diets, only riots

You really should come with a supply of cheese to match your vintage whine

You are not a clown, you’re the entire circus

There’s those who’ll ride into Hell with you, and those that will drag you back afterwards

The oldest white guy to ever white

Roses are red silent as a mouse your door was unlocked I’m inside your house

Weird hill to die on man, but at least your dead

Roses are red, my name is Dan, I have a gun, get in the van

I’ll scrape- you can scrape…my wood

You will be boiled

We are just tiny vegetables in gods eternal soup

You have room temperature IQ

You sound like how dust tases

Okay but like…can you do that to my ass

Hammed burger :(

And what is the world if not God’s own personal game of Sims

Kinktober, No Nut November, and Destroy Dick December are consecutive, this says something about humans as a whole-

Hnghg…. soup

Take a long walk off a short pier

Mirrors don’t lie, and lucky for you they don’t laugh either

Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches without bitches

You have two brain cells and each of them are fighting for third place

If you ever do that again, I’ll make you forget what it’s like to eat solid food

I’m gonna shatter you like glass

I’m looking at someone who’s never felt the warmth of their father

Don’t do milk. Go to drugs. Drink school.

To get on your level I’d need a boat trip to the Mariana Trench and a pair of cinderblock shoes

SHUT UP YOU’RE INBREAD

Even a worm will turn

Jack and Jill went up the hill so Jack could lick her candy. But Jack got a shock and a mouthful of cock cause Jill’s real name is Randy

Tip: spice up your panic attack with a harmonica

I mean, Batman couldn’t beat this information out of me but get it ig-

I’ll use my trusty frying pan, as a drying pan

The manager has been dead for 80 years oOoOoOoO next

“ArE yOu CaLlInG mE a LiAr???!?!?” Well I ain’t calling you a TRUTHER

People say we cannot live without love, I think oxygen is more important

Meditate, masturbate, manipulate

Bbg you are soup now!

They’ll be recovering pieces of your body for at least three months. You will be alive for at least two of them :).

Fuckerations

Hellon’t

Why do I have to get pretty for Jesus? I don’t like him like that!

Fatism

I’m gonna fuck your dad and give him a child he actually loves.

You don’t take a shit, the shit takes you

I have never once been submissive. One of the few things I can boast about. I have never even been submissive to a traffic signal.

I alone am the reason shampoo has instructions

I’m like Jesus I rest on Sundays

I’m gonna suck your eyeballs outta your skull

You hard boiled turtle slapper

We are in the timeline god abandoned

It’s hotter than a demon dick in a wool condom

If you stared into Medusa’s eyes she’d kill herself

Next person to talk is getting their nervous system braided

You’ve opened this can of worms, now lie in it

He’s got a mouse in his trousers

Everybody mistake make

I fart in your direction! Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!

CURSE OF RA 𓀀 𓀁 𓀂 𓀃 𓀄 𓀅 𓀆 𓀇 𓀈 𓀉 𓀊 𓀋 𓀌 𓀍 𓀎 𓀏 𓀐 𓀑 𓀒 𓀓 𓀔 𓀕 𓀖 𓀗 𓀘 𓀙 𓀚 𓀛 𓀜 𓀝 𓀞 𓀟 𓀠 𓀡 𓀢 𓀣 𓀤 𓀥 𓀦 𓀧 𓀨 𓀩 𓀪 𓀫 𓀬 𓀭 𓀮 𓀯 𓀰 𓀱 𓀲 𓀳 𓀴 𓀵 𓀶 𓀷 𓀸 𓀹 𓀺 𓀻 𓀼 𓀽 𓀾 𓀿 𓁀 𓁁 𓁂 𓁃 𓁄 𓁅 𓁆 𓁇 𓁈 𓁉 𓁊 𓁋 𓁌 𓁍 𓁎 𓁏 𓁐 𓁑 𓀄 𓀅 𓀆 𓀇 𓀈 𓀉 𓀊

Thought I’d have some cosmic horror turns out I’m a cosmic whore

I grew this dick for you, you clod

The man who waits, masturbates

Punch me in the back of the frontal lobe until I’m out colder than Bill Cosby’s pong partner

It’s never a war crime the first time

Your life lacks whimsy and your ass is flat

I’d rather play dead at a necrophiliac convention

CURSE OF THE NILE 𓀔𓀇𓀅𓀋𓀡𓀡𓀕𓀠𓀧𓀨𓀣𓀷𓀷𓀿𓀿𓁀𓁶𓁰

��𓁿𓂀𓁾𓁵𓁯𓂞𓂤𓂗𓃃𓂾𓂺𓂹

𓃞𓃙𓃖𓃓𓃕𓃓𓃜𓃘𓃙𓃟𓃛𓃞

𓂺𓃂𓂿𓂺𓃃𓃂𓂛𓂏𓅱𓅥𓅩𓅦

𓅹𓅸𓅳𓅩𓅪𓄭𓄫𓄮𓄬𓄗𓄑𓄌𓃦

𓃧𓃨𓃤𓃟𓃓𓃅𓃁𓂽𓃂𓂊𓁾𓂀𓁽

𓁼𓁠𓁛𓁟𓁦𓁜𓁭𓁡𓀔𓀇𓀅𓀋𓀡𓀡𓀕𓀠𓀧𓀨𓀣

𓀷𓀷𓀿𓀿𓁀𓁶𓁰𓁴𓁿𓂀𓁾𓁵𓁯𓂞𓂤𓂗

𓃃𓂾𓂺𓂹𓃞𓃙𓃖𓃓𓃕𓃓𓃜

𓃘𓃙𓃟𓃛𓃞𓂺𓃂𓂿𓂺𓃃𓃂

𓂛𓂏𓅱𓅥𓅩𓅦𓅹𓅸𓅳𓅩𓅪𓄭𓄫𓄮

𓄬𓄗𓄑𓄌𓃦𓃧𓃨𓃤𓃟𓃓𓃅𓃁

𓂽𓃂𓂊𓁾𓂀𓁽𓁼𓁠𓁛𓁟𓁦𓁜𓁭𓁡𓀔𓀇𓀅

𓀋𓀡𓀡𓀕𓀠𓀧𓀨𓀣𓀷𓀷𓀿𓀿𓁀𓁶𓁰𓁴𓁿

𓂀𓁾𓁵𓁯𓂞𓂤𓂗𓃃𓂾𓂺𓂹𓃞𓃙

𓃖𓃓𓃕𓃓𓃜𓃘𓃙𓃟𓃛𓃞𓂺𓃂

It’s not a crack house its a crack home

_____ is like playing chess with a pigeon. You could be a grandmaster, they’re still going to shit on the board and strut away like they won.

We’ll see who’s sloshing soon!

Being on deaths door just means you got a new neighbor!

Guards! Take this creature to a scary room

Oh my god! Boobs! Hoo ha, love them!

Fun Fact: female Jesters were called “Joculatrix” & therefore male Jesters should be called “Joculator”!

:3

-🌀

what. the. actual fuck. okay firstly WHY ARE HALF OF THEM ABOUT BOOBS??? 😭😭😭😭 secondly which pit of hell did you dig these up from??? thirdly, wow. what is "bbg you are soup now" supposed to mean??? or, "hard boiled turtle slapper".

[a-land-lacking-sleep]

Day 20: Pride

(This was a struggle. Have AO3 notes)

It was rare that the Subway Bosses and the Assistant Subway Bosses would gather for more than paperwork, mostly because Hilda and Rosa were tasked with covering the train lines when either Ingo or Emmet couldn’t be there, and they would eat their lunches outside of the station most days. 

What was even rarer is that while the quartet were in uniform, they weren’t in their normal colors. Emmet was wearing Ingo’s black hat, and a coat that had alternating silver and white stripe and purple pants and shoes. Ingo was wearing a sky blue hat with a light red and gold coat and purple pants, definitely not bought as a pack alongside Emmet’s. Rosa and Hilda, meanwhile, were fully matching with pink stripes on the coat, a muted purple for the shirt, and navy blue for the pants. 

Emmet was the first to break the silence. “I am Emmet. We look like we had preschoolers color us in.” Rosa immediately doubles over in laughter as she starts nodding in agreement, and Ingo and Hilda both sigh and shake their heads. 

“You were the one saying that the flags were too heavy last year, Boss,” Hilda says before Ingo can say anything. “It’s either this, or wear a pin, and you were the one who said to be loud and proud.”

“I am Emmet. I am proud to be asexual,” Emmet says with a nod. “I also look like a coloring book right now.”

“I rather like how the coat looks,” Ingo says , running his hands down his coat front. “I agree the colors are a tad ostentatious, but they are our pride colors. And Elesa did good work on making them.”

Rosa leans over to Ingo at the mention of the man’s partner. “Speaking of Elesa, where is she? She’s the MC for the parade, and it starts here, right?”

Ingo nods, and glances over at Hilda for her to explain. With a quick thumbs up, the younger Subway Boss picks up the thread. “She’s with Isadore and Cloud making sure that the stands are set. It’s not sunny, but we also want to make sure people are kept out of any potential rain.”

Emmet starts walking to the door before Hilda had even finished talking. “Follow the rules. Safe driving! Follow the schedule. Everybody smile! Check safety. Aim for victory!”

Rosa quickly follows after him, turning to wave at the two remaining. “I’m going to go help get it all set up! See ya in a bit!”

As both of the Doubles Bosses leave the office, Ingo and Hilda look toward each other. “Hilda, I believe your girlfriend shared a brain cell with my brother.”

“You’re way too correct there, Boss,” Hilda says with a slump.

[aeinova]

The First Time

December 2014

featuring. Nova & L

Mun note: I am in no way, shape, or form, accusing any face claim I use for these characters in this story of violence or crime. This is purely fictional. I am not affiliated with said agencies, celebrities, nor entities that grant awards or hold events. Trigger warning: mature themes, with suggestions of abuse, both sexual and physical. Discretion advised.

Songs of choice for this to listen to low in the background for ~ambiance~: Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter & End of Beginning by Djo

Taking a view from the backseat at everything, Nova realized all the raised red flags her younger self did not. The memories of threats being told in her ear to being thrown so hard against a table that she bruised instantly seemed so distant now that she retells this in her various therapy sessions. The shrink in the opposite chair simply nodded, taking down notes she assumed her agency would be able to read later on so they can lock and seal it forever from the public. All this done by the man who was essentially Lucifer himself; achingly beautiful but devilishly evil. Nova laid there, eyes closed like always, her hands clapsed against her stomach as she retold out loud those events.

..And here we announce the beautiful visual couple of the year award to: Nova and L!

Cue the typical ‘ooo’s’, mixed whispers of “what a visual couple...”, “my eyes have been blessed”, and even “their future kids won the lottery!” as the pair of breath taking idols walk on the vast stage, hand in hand, grinning from ear to ear as they made their way up to accept the award. Their dating announcement was published on the KNetz earlier in the year, which came as a surprise to everyone, including their respective agencies. Sure, they have crossed paths outside of music shows and award ceremonies, but this spark came naturally when a young L offered a hand to a young Nova when she almost stumbled down some steps at a college festival. Instead of avoiding the inevitable and the korean culture of keeping things as private as possible, they agreed it was best to embrace it fully, earning them full couple sponsorships, movie roles, tv roles and even a couple song. Nova, afterall, was a free-spirit, wanting to take on whatever came her way and L, who was the it boy at the time, needed an excuse to move all eyes away from him.

The first night she felt his hatred was the night they jointly won that forsaken couple award, taking it then with much pride in front of envious stares, including some of her peers of her own agency. Through all that, she held on tight to the man’s familiar arm, letting him speak into the adjusted microphone. “Thank you to everyone who has cheered us on. Without Nova, I don’t know who I would be.” Glancing over at her, she could tell there was something off about the man by the glint in his eyes. Could he have been already drunk without her knowing? Or maybe it was something else entirely. Still, she did not like the fight or flight feeling she was getting, prompting herself to let go of him to smooth down her Ralph Lauren dress while he finished his cheesy speech. The words drowned out in the background as she stared down at her feet for a moment, realizing the loud clapping as eyes moved onto her. “Your turn.” He growled under his alcoholic breath, motioning impatiently for her to grab the microphone now.

“Without Myungsoo, I would not know where I would be today.” Her delicate voice cracked, causing a shy smile as she felt herself lost for words. Somehow, that prompted a laugh from the audience, as she elegantly waited for them to finish. “..Please look forward to our marriage. Thank you.” Gasps filled the room, as she grinned mischievously, waving politely at the crowd as the cameras started to flash wildly. Her agency had schemed this false announcement, predicting for positive marketing of their already famous idol, and of course, she did not mind doing it since she knew Myungsoo would not mind.

Or so she thought.

An orchestra version of their couple song played lightly as they walked off back stage, like all the award winners, announcers, and presenters did at the end of their bits. She knew this stage like the inside of her palm; A typical build up and break down kind of setting, where nothing back stage changed and only the landscape did. She was about to walk off to the nearest dressing room for a touch up from a random make-up artist as she felt her hand being pulled roughly in the opposite direction. “Come with me.” Her boyfriend’s firm voice was alarming, the kind of voice you would hear from a man who was done wrong, the kind that gave warning before a fight, the kind a little kid would get if they dropped a glass cup. She realized quickly she was being taken to a dusty utility room, the door being slammed shut behind them with a loud slam. It was a rather small and muggy room, where only a few cleaning supplies and a human-sized latter fit. The hand that was being grabbed was let go, a murderous glare set on her own innocent expression in the dark. “And what the fuck was that, Eunmi?” Her eyes were wide, searching for the rugged string that was connected to the old light bulb, finally finding it as she turned it on carefully. “What was what?” She asked, blinking at him, as if she did not just announce probably the biggest engagement to date in their industry. No big deal. “Please look forward to our marriage? Are you fucking insane?”

Was she? They had discussed it over drinks so many times: A serene life of three kids, a dog, living in a penthouse next to the Han River while still working on movie roles. So what was the big deal? “Myungsoo, why are you so upset? It’s not like it was a lie–" The force of an open hand met her cheek roughly, a crisp sound of skin meeting skin filling the air as she stayed gazing down. She could feel the room spin a bit, eyes watering immediately. “Do you even know how at risk you put me with my own sponsors? And with my agency? You’re so stupid. You’re so fucking stupid.” He growled aggressively, pinching the bridge of his perfect nose. “You seriously think I would marry a piece of garbage like you? Look at me.” He demanded at Nova now, watching her stay still with her now messy hair cascading at the sides of her face to hide her tears. “Look. At. Me.” Myungsoo had changed so much after his father passed away a few months ago, falling into the pothole of alcoholism as Nova comforted him every time he sobbed over that fact, but this was the first time he had done something like this.

“Baby–“ Her voice was so small, a sob escaping as she gazed up at him with those round brown eyes of hers. She was still very much understanding, still in love and blinded by that.. But the person before her was not the man she loved, not at all. “I’m sorry..” She sighed out, wet tears coming down her cheeks in excessive streams now as he took it upon himself to slap her again.. And again, and again. She was on the ground now, not sure as to what to do anymore besides putting her delicate hands up in protest. No noise came from her despite everything though, the man staring down at her as he made sure to shut her up. “Baby this, baby sorry, baby that. Who the fuck are you calling baby right now? Not me. Oh, hey, you know what.. I know exactly you can do for me to apologize.”

Oh? Did she dare look up at him? The chance was taken as her gaze moved up to meet his one more time. She knew him so well, and those eyes went from alarming, to even more so; It’s those hungry eyes that she would only experience when they went to bed, when those whispers of ‘I love you’ and affection would be exchanged. The eyes she had grown to expect and love in those intimate moments.. Yet, this was not that moment at all.

“Come here, bitch.”

Nova opened her eyes as the ring of an iPhone alarm went off, not realizing a whole hour had gone by already as she retold this out loud. She was pale, clammy on her hands as she sat up slowly. These sessions were worthless, she thought, looking over to the bored shrink at his desk. Was he even listening? “Can I go now?” Annoyed she had wasted her time, she rolled her eyes as she crossed her arms, looking out the window that was next to the leather couch. The Han River greeted her immediately, watching the water flow under the bridge as a family passed by on the sidewalk under them. “Please tell me I can go now.”

[yourbigendergremlet]

Here is a bunch of rambles ive vollected over a few months instead of posting them in seperate posts

Feeling dysphoric about my face not being masculine, putting my hair down because it makes me feel masculine, i hate hair in my face, all my headbands to hold my hair back have bows on it, rip off the bows, wear is like a sweatband

Manly ✨

Even if i was ever gonna come out to my family as bigender, they wouldn't just say it is terrible, they would just tell me that im making no sense because i am still female, a part of me is still that, but they just wouldn't get that a part of me is also male, they would just say it was a tomboy. If they continue to misgender me, they aren't exactly wrong because i am still female so calling me she/her is still not wrong so i cant get that angry about it

Feeling dysphoria? I just made a new album in my gallery and copied any images that made me feel like a guy into there and named it "i am a big strong beautiful manly man"

Felt like a guy today but went to church and was gonna sit in the mens side but then felt extremely uncomfortable so i went to the women's side but i also felt uncomfortable with myself there and aaaagh

Me making braclets with my pride flags but my family dont know that thy are pride flags because they dont know the bigender and genderfluid flags 😎

Complaining to my little brother about our mum not letting me buy men's clothes and freely shopping in the men's section with him because he has not yet been tainted by our parents and older sister's views and feeling amazing even though he still knows nothing about lgbt stuffs

Me thinking of a plan to ask my little brother what his views on the lgtvs are but descreetly so that if he doesnt like it he wont tell mother 0.0

Conversation switches to "lgbt people bad", me goes completely silent 0.0 me: "haha yeah thats weird..." when talked directly to desperately trying to switch topic while not outing myself

My sister wants to try new nail polish but already has some on so asks my little brother to do it on him, parents being like "nooo he's a boyyyy" and my sister being like "yeah guys wear nail polish now tho but he still isnt gonna be able to be a girl" and me being there like "yeah, he can put on nail polish" and internally screaming that guys can be girls if they are aaaa

Hahaha internalised transphobia :D for a while there

Me: am i actually genderfluid or am i actually bigender? Am i faking it? Am i pretending to relate to genderfluid and ftm trans people? Am i only just female and male or am i non binary also a bit??? Am i duel weilding my genders or am i fluctuating between them right now i have no clue??????? Is that why im feeling like thisssss???

Me going out somewhere, analysing how guys walk and act differently to girls and taking mental notes

Walking two steps like how people say guys walk and feeling absolutely on top of the world before going back to normal

Hoping im being subtle in trying to lower my voice so my family dont question it (and horribly failing at being subtle why is lowering your voice a bit so hard??)

Tumblr recomending me a suspicious amount of transgender posts before i had started properly questioning my gender or even thought about it

If i was a AMAB, being bigender would be so much easier becuase it's easier to just wear a skirt or dress and look distinctly feminine and then wear other stuff and look distinctly masculine but as a AFAB when you wear male clothes you still look female but who just bought something from the male section instead of looking like a guy

My mum speaking arabic and using the masculine versions of words for me as a joke but me internally pretending that she is using my correct pronouns 🥲

Me considering getting the school trousers so i can wear that sometimes instead of my skirt but also its my last year and no point spending money on uncomfortable trousers ill never wear again if its only for one year

So in church, women wear something called an isharba which is a headscarf meant to cover your hair to be modest.

Ive noticed that on days where im feeling like a girl, i can wear the isharba theoughout the mass but on days where im feeling like a guy i feel very uncomfortable wearing it and dont usually wear it in the mass. On some days i can wear it on and off throughout as well. It's intresting how my gender also effects something like wearing a head scarf, but i guess it can also be kinda like skirts in that sense? It was also a very subconcious feeling and even when i wasnt aware of what gender i was that day i would sometimes feel uncomfortable

Some days i feel more comfortable with the label bigender, and sometime im more comfortable with the label genderfluid and it's weird

Today im feeling more masculine, but also not fully so im more between he/they. But also there is a small twinge of feminine but only a small amount.

So i dont really feel like he/him, but i dont like they/them for myself, but then also im not he/she because there isnt a lot of she in me but im not he/him because i dont feel fully like a guy.

Im not none of them because i am all of them but to varying degrees to the extent where im not comfortable with any of the pronouns no matter how they are balanced. Idk? Are people just not meant to refer to me when i feel like this????

A very specific feeling i want to experience is wearing a dress while looking like a boy, i really want to have the feeling of being a cis boy wearing a dress so much

I didn't realise how important having facial and body hair was to me until my mum and sister kept saying that i should shave it. I really really love my body and facial hair and i really want even a small beard but my mum and sister made me shave my tiny moustache hairs and unibrow for christmas and tried to get me to shave my leg and arm hair and i feel super dysphoric without it being there anymore

That moment of delusion where i pretend to myself that the soft fabricy present my sister got for me was a binder and fantasise about it but its just a jumper in reality

My sister was talking about starfield and how stupid it was that you could put pronouns "why not just have it male and female lol" and i tried to laugh along but really just could not make it sound energetic and i felt kinda sick

Ive recently had the epithany that as a bigenderfluid person i am still allowed to be a femboy or a tomboy and that being feminine doesnt necessarily make me a girl that day and i am still a guy and-