#then has spent the rest of the day making incest jokes.

[teethcore]

and, relevant: i cannot take the so called progressives and leftists up here who have no fucking clue what life is like outside of their bougie hippie world. they're so classist and elitist it's draining. and i catch it more and more often every day. they think they're so woke and enlightened and they're actually all terrible people. if i have to read/hear one more person make some play on words that's like "poor/'bad' side of town + name of state in the deep south" or make some joke about xyz southern deserving some political or natural devastation because they're all dumb and/or conservatives i'm actually going to start throwing punches. turns out pawpaw was right; fuck them fancy liberal arts colleges.

i think. i'm going to dedicate this next year to sorting out the things i've been meaning to sort out. then i have to go back south. maybe not home. who am I kidding, definitely not home that's a death wish, but. somewhere nearby. georgia, maybe. it won't be too different and there's a thriving queer community, at least in/near altanta.

[axiina]

what about aemond x niece reader but aegon has always been in love with her? she is betrothed to aemond and they’ve always had a thing for the other but aegon has been head over heels for her since he can remember 👀

Always the last

Pairing: Aegon Targaryen x niece!reader, Aemond Targaryen x niece!reader

Summary: The firstborn son, always the last. It was like a mockery of the gods. To give him birthright but take away the one he wanted more than anything in the world.

Words: 1k

Themes: angst, no comfort, basically aegon is obsessed with reader, kind of self harm? (too much alcohol to silence pain), addictions

Warnings: delulu fanon aegon, kind of self harm? (too much alcohol to silence pain), addictions, incest (it's targaryens so obviously)

Author's note: I'm back, and I hope for longer. At first, it was supposed to be a more aemond x reader, but I changed my mind, and it ended up as angst from aegon's perspective. I'm sucker for my delulu fanon aegon. if you want more, my asks are open!!

Aegon knew he shouldn't get his hopes up. The life he imagined with his niece by his side was simply not going to happen.

He didn't deserve her. And even if it were otherwise, nothing would come of it. He had already been married to Helaena for years.

It just didn't make sense, and Aegon was well aware of that. So why did it hurt him so much? Why then, when he heard his father's decision about the betrothals of Aemond and his niece, did Aegon feel as if his life had just been put to rest? Why did it hurt so much? The knowledge that it would be Aemond who would be able to watch her sleep blissfully, hug her, kiss her, and spend the rest of his life with her didn't allow him to function.

He is the first-born son, and yet always the last.

So he turned to drinking and whoring. Aegon was never a serious man. He was always more interested in pleasure than any duty and this time was no different either. He didn't want to think anymore.

He didn't want to think about her, so to silence those disturbing thoughts, he would get drunk to the point of unconsciousness, unable to get her out of his head.

He would do anything to forget, to silence the pain and the voice that reminded him that it should have been him all along.

Aegon drank day and night with no desire to stop it. In every spare moment, all he could think about was his niece. The girl whose smile could light up the darkest corner and whose touch made his heart beat faster.

He knew it was wrong. He knew he should forget her. After all, she was his brother's betrothed. But there was nothing he could do about it.

No matter how much he tried to push away thoughts of her, no matter how much he tried to hide his feelings, he couldn't.

He couldn't forget the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed or the way her hair fell around her face like a waterfall. He couldn't forget her scent and the smile that made his heart flutter. He couldn't forget the way her hand felt in his, or the way her fingers traced patterns on his skin. Even if it was years ago when they were children. When life was easier.

He couldn't forget her. He was completely and utterly infatuated.

And it was killing him.

Every time he saw her with his brother, every time he saw them laughing and joking together, it felt like a dagger in his heart. He knew he should be happy for Aemond, but he couldn't. He was too consumed with jealousy, too consumed with the thought that she should be his betrothed and not his brother's.

He knew it was selfish and even unreasonable. But he couldn't help it.

He couldn't bear the thought of her being with someone else. Not when he had wanted her so much for so long. Not when he had spent years admiring her from afar, unable to do anything but dream of what might have been if things had turned out differently.

No amount of alcohol could erase his memories, no amount of pleasure could dull the pain in his heart.

She was always there, on the edges of his mind, tormenting him with her sweetness, beauty and innocence.

The pain in Aegon's heart only grew when he saw them together.

The sight of Aemond's eyes brightening as he looked at her, the way he leaned in to listen closely every time she spoke, the small smile that appeared on his lips when she laughed, all of it made Aegon's insides twist into a knot.

He felt as if a cold, strong hand was squeezing his heart and squeezing it tighter and tighter with each passing moment.

He tried to look away, to divert his attention, but he couldn't. His eyes always returned to them, drawn to their sight like a moth to a flame. He tried to tell himself that he should be happy for Aemond, that he should be happy that his brother had found someone to make him happy, but he couldn't.

He was filled with a burning jealousy from which he could not shake.

He couldn't stand it.

He couldn't look at them together, see the happiness on their faces, the warmth in Aemond's gaze. It was like a thousand needles piercing his heart with every passing second. He wanted to scream, tear them apart, take her away from her brother, and claim her as his own. He wanted to sink his face into her hair and inhale her scent, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't do any of those things. He was trapped, watching from the sidelines as Aemond, his younger brother, his other son, always the more loved one, was now the one who could be with her. The one who could hold her hand, kiss her, and share her life. Aegon could only stare at it, feeling the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue.

She was like a drug, an addiction he couldn't shake off. Every time he saw her, his heart sped up, his palms sweated, and his throat tightened.

And every time she smiled at Aemond, her eyes shining with affection, his heart broke all over again.

He knew that Aemond deserved someone like her in his life. But he couldn't help it. Jealousy was consuming him. It was destroying him.

Aegon knew he was not the right choice for her. He was too weak, too selfish, too impulsive.

He was a drunkard, a lustful man, one who lacked discipline and self-control. He would disappoint her, hurt her, and ultimately break her heart.

But that didn't stop him from wanting her, from lusting after her like a drug. Every thought of her filled his mind, every memory of her haunted his dreams.

She was like a bright, shining candle in a dark, cold world, and he was drawn to her more and more because he couldn't have her.

He was the firstborn son, the eldest, the one who was supposed to get everything.

And yet he was always the last. Last in his father's eyes, last in his mother's heart and now last in the race to her heart.

It was like a cruel joke, a mockery of the gods, that they had given him the birthright but taken away the one thing he wanted, the one person he wanted more than anything.

[lya-dustin]

Someone will remember us

Chapter 31

Cw: underage sex, underage drinking, some ableism and as usual vigorous slutshaming by the greens

Gif by: @onemillionyous

Taglist: @arrthurpendragon @ocappreciationtag @fyeahhotdocs @stargaryenx @theboyishtree

“I do not know what you are speaking about, your grace. My granddaughter is a perfectly healthy girl.” The Targaryen princess lies with ease.

“She was petrified with fear, that was all,” Teora adds.

“I was told that my son was making inquiries about atonic seizures to Maester Orwyle. Then I saw it happen.” The queen’s eyes mist up in pity.

“Vaegon lived to be eighty, Aegon the Conqueror lived to be sixty, the odds aren’t against her.” Rhaenys said, reminding them all that Aemma will not die. “If you breathe a word to anyone, I am honor bound to kill you.”

Viserys knows, but even at the Stranger’s door he knew better than to let Otto know.

“My father has begun to suspect about it, I told him the girl was just afraid my son would die like her father did. Lord Strong has spies in her mother’s household, it is only a matter of time before it reaches him.” The queen is afraid.

Not afraid of Aemma’s condition and fearing her early death, afraid of how her father and Lord Strong will exploit it once they know.

“I will ensure her condition remains a secret, your grace. I only ask that you do not confront her about it.” Rhaenys knows Daemon will be able to sniff out the rats, if only her family did not have to depend on her brute cousin for everything.

“How can I help her?” the queen asks finally remembering that it is a girl of six and ten they are speaking of, not a threat to her son.

“By keeping her secret from everyone.” The princess answered and prayed the queen will keep her end of the deal.

-----

They wear black and green to show the unification of both factions.

Her dress is cut scandalously low, and every second is spent with Aemond daring anyone to follow the thin golden chain into her cleavage.

Aemma’s long hair hangs in ringlets to her waist just as Laena’s once did and at Aemond’s behest, she wears the flower laurel Stark had the nerve to give her during the tourney.

She drinks to forget what she knows and try to enjoy the festivities. She’s always liked parties; it should be easy.

By the time the dancing begins she is tipsy and wanting to retch from the dizziness.

She giggles like an idiot when Aemond makes up some horseshit excuse to get her out of there.

“I’ve never been drunk before, no wonder Aegon loves drinking so much.” The princess breathes the cool air in the balcony with gusto.

“You’ll feel absolutely wretched tomorrow, love.” He says softly as he holds her back by pretending this is just a normal embrace.

Maris had joked that his chin would be uncomfortable to feel, but it feels rather pleasant as he rested it on her shoulder.

“Gods why did I let my mother talk me into a seven-day celebration, we have a hunt tomorrow.” She complained and he had the fucking cheek to laugh at her complaint. “You get to get your blood running and hunt, and I have to stay with all the hens in your mother’s coop and avoid strangling them as they pretend they are powerless to do anything of worth.”

“They are, not all of them are given the freedom you and my sisters have.” He points out and Aemma remembers her mother is actually his own half-sister.

Some were repulsed by that, but the Seven allowed for one to marry their uncles, as did the First Men and the Rhoynar.

Besides their marriage elicited far less repulsion than Aegon and Helaena’s did.

Their children will not practice brother-sister incest, she thinks. Her children will wed whom they please like the children of Jaehaerys and Alysanne did.

“I suppose, although don’t call my mother your sister again, it kills the mood.” Aemma has no idea why she says that which she also says out loud.

“Never drank this much, have you?” he is laughing at her, she can feel his chest shake in silent mirth behind her.

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asks looking at the city as they light up their candles, illuminating the streets below them. “Gods, all I wanted was to put it out of my mind, and no matter how much I drink it doesn’t work.”

“I have other ideas, Aemee.” He suggests and she knows he is grinning like the cat that ate the canary.

“Is it why you made me wear this fucking flower crown?” she turned to face him.

The wine tastes better in his mouth, she thinks.

“Such a bad word for a lady.” Aemond smiles into the kiss and tugged her until she was pinned between him and the walls adjacent to them.

“Not a lady, a queen.” She helped him hike up her skirts with a giggle.

“And a shit gambler too. How much did you lose on me?” he asks kissing her lips, her jaw, her neck.

His hands roam over the bodice and then under the skirts. Her skin was gooseflesh everywhere he touched.

They are fire made flesh, never did she take those words seriously until now.

“Fuck.” Aemma hardly ever swears, but she cannot articulate any other words.

“Fuck me.” She moans as she pulled his hair and brought his wicked mouth back to hers.

“I will indulge you, if you answer my question, ābrazȳrys.” The word wife rolls of his tongue beautifully, gods no wonder people claimed High Valyrian was the language of love.

“A hundred,” the Valyrian Siren struggles to keep her train of thought when she sees her husband go down on his knees for her. “A hundred gold dragons.”

----

“The girl is as wanton as her mother.” Otto comments when the young couple come back with just a few hints of what happened the moment they were away.

The music had been loud enough to cover the bawdy noises they had made, but nothing could hide the embarrassment in the guards faces nor the shameless grin her son was sporting as he came back with his eye patch gone and Aemma’s flowers looking worse for wear.

“They are wed, father, at least it is done in the bounds of holy matrimony.” Alicent looks at her son whispering something filthy in his bride’s ear going by how she bites her lip to keep herself from giggling too loudly.

It was almost difficult to remember how afraid she had been when Aemond pushed Stark to give him a real fight.

They are happy, that is all that matters. That is what should matter, but they are not up jumped commoners, they are royalty. Royalty cannot behave so brazenly in public.

“Where is your eye patch, sweetling?” Alicent asks her son who is drunk on sex and wine and northern whiskey Stark’s men had introduced him to.

“Serving as my lady wife’s garter.” He answered quietly, trying his best to hide some of his embarrassment. He sounded like a child waiting to be scolded.

And she would have, but Aegon heard what he said and raised a toast to his little brother.

“We have been over this, son. It is improper for you to leave it off, the ladies are scared by the scars.” Alicent tries to remind him and hope he listens to her.

“Not Aemma, not you nor Helaena.” He points out and looks with fondness at his wife who is laughing and talking with her daughter and her cousins and the Baratheon girl. “Besides my eye patch is keeping her right stocking on, I tossed her garter off the balcony, I think.”

He has always been serious, and yet there were moments when he could be as impulsive and irresponsible as any young man his age.

The queen groaned in frustration, she never thought her son, her favorite son, would be led astray by Rhaenyra’s only daughter of all people.

“Mother, mama, let Aemond live a little. He just married, once the week is over, he will tire of Aemma, like any sensible husband does.” Aegon half jokes and laughs at his own words.

“I won’t.” Aemond narrowed his eye at her eldest son, already forgetting she was there. Aemond hardly drinks, but she knows he is forgetful when he drinks, looser too, laughs more.

It is the only few times the boys resemble each other.

“I never will.” Her boy vows.

But what does he know, he is six and ten, still a boy even if the law says he is a man.

“People are staring, Aemond.” The queen hates how they stare, how they look at him and gawk because of his disfiguration.

“Do you think people were afraid of Symeon Star-Eyes?” he asks, his eye still following every movement Aemma made.

“I am sure they were; it must’ve been concerning to see gems where eyes should be.” Alicent doesn’t know why he asks such a strange question.

If people do not see the extent of his loss, people will not say cruel things about him. If they do not see, he cannot be hurt.

Lucerys Waters had taken his eye, Alicent would be damned if anyone else hurt her boy.

“Do you know what Aemma said when I asked her? Only the stupid ones were afraid of him.” His tone is soft when he speaks about her, loves her so much it pains Alicent.

If only it had been a different girl.

“Retire early, if it gets too much to you, my love.” The queen concedes and lets him ignore the stares and the whispers for love.

[dreaming-for-an-escape]

A Lovers’ Embrace

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Tatiana Tyrell (OC) x Rhaenyra Targaryen

A/N: I don’t how this happened I was writing something wholesome for Blood and Thorns when suddenly I opened a new Google Doc and my mind was like, “Make your asexual ass write some smut for are favorite throuple” and I was like, “Eh, why not?”

So now here’s this...which I hope turned out okay. Like I said this happened suddenly. Also if you don’t already know Tatiana Tyrell is a House of the Dragon OC of mine who is in a poly relationship with Daemon and Rhaenyra. She is occasionally mentioned in my Game of Thrones story Blood and Thorns. She also is distant relative to Maeve Tyrell. Also yes Tatiana is married but her husband (Jeremiah Merryweather) is fine with the relationship she has with Daemon and Rhaenyra. He’s a cool dude, what can I say. 

Warning: This is 18+ like seriously don’t read this if you’re a minor. Go away. I will block your ass. There is incest obviously because of Daemon and Rhaenyra. Also SMUT. Crown Kink I guess? Daemon and Rhaenyra both love seeing it on Tatiana with nothing else on. 

Translations:

Ñuha jorrāelagons - My loves

Īlva gevie sīmontan - Our beautiful rose

Ao sagon hae dōna hae se ēlī jēda nyke tasted ao- You're as sweet as the first time I tasted you

Tatiana knew it was going to be a night of intense lovemaking from the lustful looks Daemon and Rhaenyra kept throwing at her during dinner.

After making sure her children, Genevieve and Jasper were set for the night in the chambers they were given during their visit, Tatiana went to Rhaenyra and Daemon’s personal chambers. The honey blonde woman knew they were waiting for her to get the night started.

Although Tatiana and her husband Jeremiah enjoyed each other's company as any companion would, she was glad he decided not to accompany her to Dragonstone this time around.

She had a feeling it was going to be a long night with her lovers and this time around she wasn’t up for the jokes Jeremiah would make the following morning. Even if they were harmless.

It was pretty much guaranteed whenever Tatiana spent the night with Rhaenyra and Daemon that she would look as if she had been riding a dragon. Which she supposed in a way was true.

It was now Tatiana that laid on her back on their lavish bed. Velvet sheets rested beneath Tatiana while her two lovers surrounded her. The second she had entered their chambers both her silver haired lovers worked on getting her out of her dress. Now all three of them were naked as the day they were brought into the world.

With the exception of the crown Rhaenyra had gifted Tatiana. That was the only thing the honey blonde woman had on. Daemon and Rhaenyra wanted Tatiana to wear it during their love session. A not unusual request since they had done this sort of thing before.

And like many times before, Daemon every now and then needed to adjust the crown on Tatiana’s head whenever he gave a hard thrust. And Rhaenyra held on to the tops of the crown’s glittering jewels, fingers spreading into Tatiana’s soft hair as she rode Tatiana’s beautiful face. Her dainty fingers rubbed at Tatiana’s wet heat until she shook and cried out.

Tatiana lost count of how many times her silver haired lovers made her peak.

Eventually they rested, the glittering crown still on top of Tatiana's head. The honey blonde woman’s skin was dewy, her body the color pink. She really thought sleep would come…how silly of her.

Rhaenyra, who was to the right of Tatiana, began kissing up her body to her soft lips. They both could still taste each other’s arousal and the wine on their lips from dinner.

Daemon meanwhile was kissing lower until he was facing the area where Tatiana’s sweet nectar resided and was staining her thighs.

A boost of energy surged in Tatiana. She moved her lips against Rhaenyra’s. A hand ran through her silver blonde hair while the other caressed at a breast, gently tweaking a nipple. Tatiana was aware of how sensitive Rhaenyra’s breasts, particularly her nipples, were to her.

Tatiana wanted to hear Rhaenyra cry sweetly this time. However it was Tatiana who released a cry.

Daemon’s mouth on her soaking center made her jolt. Gods, she was still so sensitive down there. Despite wanting to thrash, his arm on her stomach kept her in place. She moaned, parting from Rhaenyra’s lips. Rhaenyra wasn’t about to stop though. She followed, licking Tatiana’s lips.  

Tatiana listened and opened wide. Rhaenyra’s tongue was soon stroking her own. The pleasure bloomed upwards in her chest as it did downwards where it was most sensitive.

Daemon’s leisure kitten licks were making Tatiana’s thighs shake. Her cheeks felt so warm, and her eyes lidded with a few tears escaping from the increase of ecstasy. They’ve pleasured her so much by now that they’ve brought her to the point of crying. 

Rhaenyra tasted a few of her tears that ran down her mouth. She slowly pulled back, smiling at how disheveled Tatiana appeared. “Īlva gevie sīmontan.” She saw that Tatiana’s crown was lopsided and quickly fixed it.

Tatiana blinked several times, eyes blurry. Rhaenyra’s beautiful lilac eyes made her heart swell. She reached for her cheek, finding them to be warm.

Rhaenyra watched with tenderness as Tatiana turned to hide her blushing face against the pillow, back arching. The crown once again moved. She moaned, the pillow muffling the sound. Rhaenyra’s eyes looked down at Daemon who was looking up at them with his own lilac eyes.

They twinkled catching Rhaenyra’s gaze. She let out a laugh knowing he was purposely going at a slower place.

Tatiana slowly lifted her head from the pillow to look down at him. “Gods! Daemon!” She cried, tears staining her cheeks. She felt Rhaenyra fix the crown on her head before nuzzling her neck and leaving kisses there. Her hands went back to Rhaenyra, holding onto her as her pleasure kept taking her higher and higher. She was almost there…so close she could taste it.

Daemon decided to take mercy on his rose and sped up his licks. He heard Tatiana’s breathing become louder, hinting that she was close to peaking. Taking the final steps that were needed he wrapped his lips on her clit. He sucked a bit harshly before swiping his thumb over her little bundle of nerves.

Instantly a familiar feeling of euphoria erupted in Tatiana. She cried, absolutely wrecked but very much happy. She brought Rhaenyra to lay her head on her breasts as she recovered from her orgasm.

Rhaenyra kissed her breasts, liking the softness. Like with her own, Tatiana’s breast only seemed to get fuller after having her children.

Daemon nipped at Tatiana’s thighs, enjoying how they were still shaking. He kissed his way back up her body. He left the wetness from her release on his chin, wanting her to taste herself.

Tatiana didn’t need her hazel eyes to be open to see the smirk on Daemon when he spoke.

“Ao sagon hae dōna hae se ēlī jēda nyke tasted ao.”

Daemon’s hold on her jaw made her open her eyes again. His hold was firm but gentle, making her eyelashes flutter. He kissed Tatiana then, letting her delicious juices mix into her mouth.

Wanting Rhaenyra to taste Tatiana’s sweet nectar again, Daemon reached for her. Rhaenyra gladly accepted his kiss. Tatiana watched her lovers’ kiss with a racing heart and ardent eyes.

Daemon kissed Rhaenyra one last time before falling to Tatiana’s left side. He looked at both of them. These two beautiful women whom he was happy to call his own.

“Ñuha jorrāelagons.”

Tatiana really was glad she had decided to learn High Valyrian all those years ago. It made whenever she was intimate with Daemon and Rhaenyra that much more intense. She smiled, rubbing her nose against Daemon’s. Her hand reached for Rhaenyra, bringing her closer. 

The three of them then became a tangle of limbs, not knowing where the other began and ended.  

Finally, as many times before, Tatiana fell into a peaceful sleep between the two loves of her life. The crown gifted to Tatiana by Rhaenyra stayed on her head, making her look like an angel to her lovers when morning time came.

[taechaos]

Freaky Idea

Pt. 2 of New Idea

pairing: Stepbrother!Taehyung x Fem!Reader

genre: oneshot, pseudo-incest, smut

synopsis: The last guaranteed day you have with Taehyung is spent with his choice of adventure. You learn a lot of things about the history of freakshows, and how much of a freak your brother is as well.

warnings: mention of murder and somnophilia, riding, manipulation

word count: 3.8k

When Taehyung agreed to being your slave for a month, he wasn’t lying. He was attached to your hip throughout the whole time span, obeying your every command without complaint. You didn’t deem him forgiven, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy his company and compliance. The whole month was a bliss for you.

The first week, the morning after the… event, you had him prepare breakfast for you and your mother walked in on him cooking an omelette for you. She was perplexed, and with her morning drowsiness asked, “You’re home?” before smothering him with a hug. Your father gave him the minimum acknowledgement, and it went by quickly with your mother being surprised every time she saw him in the morning.

The second week, he drove you around and paid for your every need. You don’t know how he has so much money, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he sells drugs or had robbed a bank. You decided to reward him by kissing his cheek every time he bought you clothes and jewelries per your request. He realized he enjoyed spoiling you, and took you shopping in different malls for 7 days straight.

The third week, you met his friend. You had insisted, and he gave in after a short while of you begging because it was difficult to say no to you and rules are rules. His terms were: 1. You're going to act like his girlfriend, and 2. You sit on his lap. Maybe you didn't get it, but his friend Namjoon didn't seem dangerous enough for you to be behaving the way you were forced to. Sitting in front of a burning barrel in the middle of nowhere, Taehyung and Namjoon smoked weed together while you watched them. The conversation was fun, and you wanted to see him again. Taehyung didn’t allow you to question the ordeal. Rest of the week went by a breeze.

Fourth week was relatively calm as well, and now Taehyung is on his final day of slavery. It’s somewhat melancholic for you because you don’t know if he’ll vanish once the clock hits 12. You’re sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging your dangling legs while your step-brother inspects the fridge to find you something for lunch. The two of you woke up late this morning, well, afternoon, and you don’t know why you feel so exhausted and sore. You’ve been feeling this way for a whole month now, but you’re growing somewhat used to it. 

“This bitch is empty,” Taehyung grumbles before closing the fridge and standing up straight. When he notices your soft pout, he slithers his way between your legs. “What’s wrong princess? Are you tired?”

“Will you be here tomorrow?” you blurt without beating around the bush and peek at him under your lashes.

His brow ticks as he tilts his head. “Did you want to do something?”

“Well, no,” you drawl, “I just wish… you were here more often.”

"You know I can't stay away from you for long," he counters your worries, "especially if you allowed me to…"

"Stop." You distance yourself by pushing him away; you don't want to think about what he was implying. You made it explicitly clear that anything remotely sexual wasn't allowed to be brought up when you were around, and he’s been sticking to that rule until now - to your knowledge, at least. 

“Stop teasing your sister, Taehyung.” your mother enters the kitchen while tying the knot of her robe, now checking the fridge herself. 

He rolls his eyes before turning to her and retaliating, “I didn’t even do anything.” You giggle to yourself and bite your fist. “Did I tease you?” he asks innocently with his neck craned in your direction.

“Yes, he doesn’t even make me breakfast,” you joke with a grin. 

“The fridge is fucking empty!”

“Language,” your mother warns strictly before taking out a box of frozen pizza. “And it isn’t empty. Could you turn on the oven for me, love?” You nod and arrange the heat to 200 degrees while Taehyung scoffs, “I can’t survive in a house with women.”

“Man up,” your step-father butts in monotonously. “You have to rely on your mother to cook to this day. When will you move out? Act your age Taehyung, you’re 21.”

The light-hearted atmosphere dims with the presence of Taehyung’s father. There’s a distinct contrast between your two parents, and you can understand why your step-brother is so rebellious around them. The only thing holding them together is their dedication to religion. 

He only huffs and crosses his arms in response as his dad grabs a carton of juice and a glass from the cupboard. It’s tense in the room until Taehyung leans into your ear and whispers, “I’m only here because of you.”

A light blush tints your cheeks at his sweet confession, although it also makes you guilty. He later convinces you to eat with him in your room, and it’s comfortable in your bed as you chomp on the slices hungrily. 

“Is there anything you want to do today?” Taehyung asks as he chews on his pizza.

“Let’s do something you want for a change,” you answer after swallowing. 

Though he hasn’t been showing any lack of interest around you, you are aware that you haven’t been doing anything fun by his definition. You’re worried that you’ve bored him throughout this whole timespan of being together.

A smirk grows on his face and there’s that glint of mischief in his eyes that you’ve missed. Fair, the last time you saw it was before he traumatized you, but you try not to think about it much like you ignore the constant ache between your legs. 

“There’s this circus,” he begins slowly, “I hear it’s interesting. Would you want to come with?”

You know he’s leaving something out, his cautious tone and aura implicit he knows something you don’t. But you nod anyway, because you still stupidly trust him.

Taehyung’s car is old and retro, but he must have upgraded the engines for how fast he is driving. You like admiring his side profile as he holds the steering wheel, but the view is much more interesting when he catches you looking. It’s a far location, and you’re out of the city by the time he parks his car in the woods. How did he memorize the directions when it took an hour to get there?

“We’re here,” he announces before shifting the manual stick gear with a screech. You exit the car and he is not gentle with the way he slams the door closed, so you do the same. You can see hints of red colors between the cracks of the thin trees. 

“Is it open?” you question apprehensively. The sun hasn’t set yet, but it should be getting dark soon in the evening. 

“Hasn’t been open for a century. You wouldn’t believe the amount of history this place has.”

He takes the lead in his steps, and you follow behind though your gut doesn’t approve. The path isn’t long, and only then do you see the circus when Taehyung moves aside. It’s run down, worn out colors in the curtains, broken glasses on the ground and the circus barely holding itself up. There’s a huge cannon in the middle of the stage, the tip balancing itself on the ground. It’s kind of creepy, but Taehyung doesn’t leave you in the dark for long.

“A lot of crazy shit happened here, you know,” he piques your curiosity, “the clowns were fucking freaks. Any type of physical disorder landed you in here, whether you liked it or not. Even for babies,” he picks up an idle shard of glass, “these were jars. They had deformed fetuses on display on a stand, but the wind must have fucked it up.”

“Deformed fetuses?”

“Yeah, like, conjoined and some other stuff.” You grimace at his description, although it stirs empathy in you. The 20th century sounds inhumane. 

“Are these real stories?” 

“Yeah. And the cannon: they rocketed people from this very bad boy,” he points at it before standing under.

Your stomach sinks as you panic, “It could fall on you!” You pull at his hand and the force makes your chests meet. He smiles down at you before pecking your lips. You stammer, a little mad as he chuckles before walking to a wooden wheel. He makes a star pose after stepping on the metal stand, stretching out his limbs to fit the whole circle. 

“This was the Wheel of Death; they threw knives at targets on this. I think they only targeted females actually...” He nods at you to replace him as he hops off. You go along with his idea and climb on the stand, though it creaks weakly. He takes out a pocket knife from his pocket and you’re about to yell before he hurls it at you. It lands above your shoulder and you immediately scold, “What the fuck, Tae?! Why would you do that! I could’ve died.”

He shrugs with a bright grin, clearly unbothered by your stressing. “My aim isn’t too bad.” He walks over to you and collects his floating knife. “Besides, when have I ever hurt you?”

You bite your tongue and purse your lips with a glare. 

“See?” he whispers. “You can’t even name one time…”

He’s teasing your silence, how you can’t even dare to voice the specific night. You haven’t even told your parents and slept with him right after, and he finds that so interesting: that you trust him with your life. 

“You actually can’t? Wow, I didn’t realize I was such a good brother,” he grins lopsidedly before snapping his fingers. “On with the tour.” He is enthusiastic as he struts past the circus. You shake your head with a sigh but follow him regardless. “So there were sword swallowers, acrobats, strongmen, anything that drew attention. They had a shit ton of accidents and deaths, but you would die if you got boring as well.” Taehyung holds back a bush to let you pass; the place he’s leading you to is a lot more crowded with sages and trees than the previous path. “Once the initial attraction wears off, you’re a goner. They couldn’t survive in that society with those deformities, so it was suicide either way.”

“That is so cruel,” you mumble sympathetically. “This place was like a fractured fantasy.”

“At least they lived for a bit… up until someone ended it.” When he pushes away the woodruffs, you’re met with another rundown site with a few… cages? “This is the trailer. Where they stayed and got ready for their shows. Some were held against their will, and slept with the animals in those cages.”

You gape at your surroundings in shock. The trailer is missing one side of the wall, and the rest have been vandalized with random phrases written in spray paint. You don’t give much attention to the torture cages, because the trailer has a lot more to show. It still has couches on the incomplete hardwood flooring, and Taehyung plops on one. The fabric is torn and dust rises the moment he’s on the seat. “That’s so dirty, Tae,” you pull a displeased face.

“Don’t be rude to the past occupants. Their ghosts might still be around.” He wiggles his fingers as if imitating a monster. He then pats his thighs, beckoning you to sit on his lap. You begrudgingly do so, and he wraps his arms around your waist before pulling you flush against him. “Any theories on how this shitshow ended?”

“Police intervention?”

“Something like that, I guess. One of the acrobats went nuts and shot everyone, so the place was shut down.”

“What?” you widen your eyes at him. “Why did they do that?”

“He was going to be replaced, so he got rid of the competition. Very chilling,” he casually states. “There must be some bullet holes in the walls, but we can check that out later.” His head snuggles into your neck while you’re still processing his words, but you go blank when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your neck. “Right now,” he murmurs, “I just want you to ride me.”

“Ride you?”

“Don’t act innocent, you know what I mean. You said I could choose what we did today… and I want to fuck here.”

“Taehyung… I specifically told you we aren’t allowed to do anything sexual. You hurt me last time as well,” you frown at the mention. 

“I asked you if I ever hurt you earlier. Did you say anything?” he asks condescendingly.

“No…”

“Why are you saying I hurt you now? Don’t tell lies, baby. Besides,” his hand slides down to your thigh as he speaks in a low, sultry voice, “I’ve been loosening up your cunt. You don’t even wake up at night anymore. It won’t hurt this time, I promise.”

You had an inkling, the stupid inkling that you tried so damn hard to brush aside. “You fucked me in my sleep?” you force out, your mouth suddenly feeling dry. “And you brought me here just to–”

“Christ, no,” he cuts you off offendedly, “I’m not that sick in the head. I didn’t plan it, but I can’t say I wasn’t hoping. It’s not like I’m going to rape you.”

“You did it once!”

“I was on a lot of drugs then! I’m clean now,” he huffs in irritation. “I’m sorry about that, and I know my apology is long overdue or whatever, but give me a break. I’ve been into you since I was like 16.”

You turn to look at him - really look at him. There’s not a trace of guilt on his face; the roots of his messy teal hair have grown out; the beauty of his naturally downward lip corners; you don’t know what to think. Your mind is a mess because you don’t know what to make of his confession. He has manipulated you countless times, coerced you into doing things you would never do, and for once you reflect on his personality. This could be one of his schemes in order to get you to do what he wants, and ironically, he was supposed to be doing that for you. Through all of your scrambled thoughts, you only muster a meek “really?”

“Yes,” he affirms, “that’s why I want to be intimate with you.”

Lies, lies, lies, you think before gently pressing your lips against his. Despite your attempt at kissing him softly, he doesn’t cooperate by instantly sucking on your nether lip with vigor, his hands immediately meeting at your hips to gently rock them against his crotch. He bites your lip before swiping his tongue against it, coaxing, “Suck on my tongue.” The awkward angle from where you’re kissing him makes him turn your body to completely face him, your knees landing on either side of him on the uncomfortable chair. It doesn’t matter, because you’re starting to forget the whole setting, just about everything except for him as arousal begins to seep in. Heat pools in your stomach at the switch in mood, and he’s enjoying your compliance as he quietly moans into your mouth. 

While you’re busy relishing in his swirling tongue, he starts tugging down your pants and you help him without looking. You sit up to push it down your ankles and throw it on the floor along with your panties. “What’s gotten into you?” he chuckles breathlessly before leaving wet kisses on your lips and pulling away to take off his wrinkled shirt. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, equally breathless.

“I don’t know, you’re just… so hot when you’re horny.” His boyish smile grows on your flustered face as he says, “Take off your shirt. Wanna see those pretty tits again.”

You bite your lip to suppress your insecurities, but it doesn’t help when you’re left in your bra as you cover your chest. “Don’t be shy now,” he teases knowingly and removes your arms before unclasping the garment. “Take out my cock now.” His tone is gentle with encouragement. You unzip his jeans timidly, but your eyes grow in wonder at the outline of his erection. “I’m so hard for you,” he assures you in a whisper and takes your hand in his to rub himself. “You’re so pretty, and sexy. I fucked you every night because you’re just so irresistible. You understand, don’t you, baby?” 

“I… Yes,” you agree and finally push down his briefs. His throbbing cock stands proudly and you’re intimidated by the size until he murmurs, “I won’t hurt you.” He lightly touches your bare pussy, slick with your arousal as you shudder. He coats your vulva with all of it, giving special attention to your clenching hole as he inserts a single finger. “Does it hurt?”

You shake your head, and you’re confused by the lack of pain and the desire for more. It feels good and that is a surprise for you as you sink down lower on his finger. He curls it, adds another finger and stretches your walls, emitting a moan out of you. You’re liking it, and you don’t know why; he was so cruel the last time that you were convinced something would go wrong now. Nothing does, and if anything, his fingers make you feel the best you have ever felt though it is not enough. “More,” you beg and he replaces his fingers by pulling you to the head of his cock. He’s staring right at you with hooded lids as he rubs it up and down, making you release a needy whimper. “Please, Taehyung.”

And like the slave he was meant to be, he shoves it in with a grunt. Your scream catches in your throat at the initial sting, but it’s worth it when he screws his eyes shut in pleasure and bites his lip to hold back a groan. He looks angelic under you, although he is anything but. You realize he is waiting for your cue to move, and it flutters your hearts because he is more attentive to you this time. Rather than letting him take the lead, you act on your instincts as you roll your hips. It’s unsteady at first, the foreign position making it difficult for you to adapt to so fast. His audible quick breaths encourage you to take your time in angling your pelvis comfortably, and when an involuntary moan leaves you, you place your hands on his shoulders before sticking to the current stance and going up and down on him. 

“Oh shit, you’re doing so well,” he praises you between gasps, supporting your body with his hands, “feels so fucking good. My good girl.”

It gets to your head, how much he’s enjoying your motions. He meets them with thrusts of his own, perfectly hitting your cervix and blinding you with pleasure. What is it that makes you feel so wonderful in this situation? Is it the touch, or the complimentary fact that you’re the only person Taehyung wouldn’t get bored of? 

Could it be that you’re two of the same?

Maybe he’s the one desperate to please you, you think as he massages your breasts, flicking your hard nipples with his thumbs so graciously. The eerie silence is broken by both of your loud moans, ecstasy sensually building up in knots in your stomachs. Sweat accumulates on your forehead, your hair sticking to your face but not hiding the sight of his erotic expression. You arch your back and grind down on him, and he’s limp on the loveseat as he takes all that you give him so submissively.

It’s your turn to use him, and you actually start understanding what makes him so rash and impulsive in hopes of receiving this amount of serotonin. It’s worth it, the release of control and morals to be with him. “Taehyung, h-how did you do it?” you moan. “Every night, what did you do?”

“I,” he tries to catch his breath, “I used my fingers to stretch you out. One finger, then two, then three.” He groans and thrusts into you fast and hard, “I fisted you at some point, and you came in your sleep, and then on my cock. Moaning and whining every fucking night, like some filthy whore.” You mewl at his crude words. He’s so obscene with you, and you clench your walls in response. “You like being my whore, hm? Little freak.”

“Yes, yes,” you confirm in a whimper, nodding your head as you pass the dominance onto him. He’s fucking into you while you stand on your knees, eyes rolled back with drool about to drip from the corner of your mouth. He starts to rub your clit and kisses your neck for you to tighten around him over and over again; it’s heaven in an empty graveyard. It’s so fucked up, yet he can’t stop. You’re panting as he manipulates your body to mold with his. “I’m close.”

His hands fall on your ass, greedily kneading it as your hips begin to stutter, your orgasm climbing up just as your energy is falling down. It hits you like a truck: the peak of pleasure, accompanied by a silent scream, nails digging into his skin as your muscles tense. “Fuck,” you breathe once his thrusts begin overstimulating you, but it’s not for long as he shoots his load inside you with a groan. He’s twitching as his erection becomes flaccid, and you feel it as he pulls out. 

“Bet it didn’t hurt,” he jokes while you recover from your climax. You’re leaking with his cum and he uses his shirt to wipe you clean, making you shake from how sensitive you are. “I’ll buy you the pill on the way home.”

“Thanks,” you plainly say and stand up to pick up your clothes. You’re trembling slightly and a little achy, but it’s nothing compared to losing your virginity. 

“What? You gonna give me the cold shoulder now?” He’s only in his loose pants and has his shirt thrown over his shoulder. He buckles his belt while you put on your bra. 

“Why did you make us act like a couple in front of Namjoon?” After hearing his confession, the interaction before bugs you.

“What do you mean?”

“Is it because you didn’t want him to think I was single? Because you like me?”

“No, he’s a convicted felon. Crazy motherfucker killed his ex’s new boyfriend,” he reveals with a scoff. “Besides, if you like me, you’d like him as well.”

Putting your shock aside, you realize one thing: Taehyung doesn’t want to be replaced. Does that mean you hold power over him? Or will he do anything at any cost to be in your life?  Regardless of your internal monologue, you only reply with, “who says I like you?”

It’s a joke, and he knows it. As promised, he buys you an emergency pill and another shirt for himself on the way home. His days of slavery are over, and you wonder: where will he be tomorrow? Maybe take his father’s advice… 

[iclaimedtobethebetterbard]

i’m taller than you - chapter 3

Fandom: Sanders Sides Characters: Logan and Janus; mentioned Virgil, Roman, Remus, Remy, and Patton Rating: Teen & up Relationships: Enemies-to-lovers/arranged marriage Loceit; platonic Janus and Remy Warnings: Language; some discussions of transphobia; extremely brief mention of incest (it has 0 details and does not involve any of the characters in the story, it's almost literally just that the word is said). Word count: 5644 Notes: as far as I know, "Letters of Viola" is not a thing that exists in the real world; I just needed a cool-sounding title for a play, lol

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Chapter 3

In the two months since the wedding, Logan’s dislike for Janus had barely tempered itself. The first few weeks they had exchanged no more than the bare minimum of communication, and none too politely, either. Unpleasant as this had been, Logan almost thought he would prefer it to now. It had minimized the amount of time he and Janus spent in each other’s presence.

But after those first few weeks, Virgil had started pointedly inviting Janus to spend time with the royal siblings. This was tantamount to utter betrayal in Logan’s eyes���Virgil had always been the one he had counted on to understand him and to take his side when everything went wrong; Virgil was the buoy he always clung to until storms washed over. And now Virgil had chosen the storm instead of Logan. It… hurt.

To make matters worse, the twins immediately adored Janus, who fenced with them and gave them tips, and flattered Roman’s poetry, and laughed at Remus’s crude jokes, and regaled them both with stories of things he’d allegedly done (which the twins found enthralling, and which Logan was quite certain were entirely made up).

But, now that Janus was frequently spending time with people, instead of holed up in his study with his nose buried in his philosophy books, or out on the palace grounds spending hours riding horseback alone, at least Virgil harped less on Logan to make Janus feel welcome. Janus was fast becoming good friends with the twins—and with Remy, who regularly showed up to drag Janus away for what he called “trophy husband self-care days.” Janus seemed to enjoy these; he was always in a good mood when he returned from them.

Given all of that, at this point, Virgil seemed content to let Logan and Janus ignore each other, so long as neither of them spent too long alone.

But that was just the hangup. Ignoring each other wasn’t happening anymore. A couple of weeks ago, Logan and Janus had gotten into an argument about the book Janus had been reading at dinner. It had left Janus grinning, his eyes sparkling and his cheeks faintly flushed, and left Logan feeling deeply disgruntled—he had been winning, until Janus once again referenced their height difference and distracted Logan from his own point.

Since then, Janus, for inexplicable reasons, seemed to have decided that his one goal in life was to make Logan’s life a living hell. What other reason could he have for constantly talking to Logan, smirking and pestering him with questions and sly witty jabs and argumentative statements of falsehood practically designed to bait Logan into angry debate? Logan had hardly had a moment’s peace since this began. Janus kept tricking him into spending hours debating over things that Logan—well, actually, things that Logan cared quite a lot about—but things Logan would not have chosen as conversation topics, certainly not with Janus.

Janus, damn him, seemed to enjoy it all. He’d even stopped his long horseback rides in favor of spending more time annoying Logan, saying, “Oh, no, I absolutely hate horses, I wasn’t lying about that,” when Logan questioned him on it.

“You used to spend hours with your horse every day!” Logan had burst out, frustrated.

“Yes, because I hate most people more.” Janus had rested his chin on his clasped hands, beaming in a way that had to be calculated to annoy Logan to the highest possible degree. “But now you’re interesting.”

Logan had groaned and buried his face in his hands, and Janus had laughed, and he had continued to not go on horseback rides any more, and Logan was entirely fed up with it.

All of which had brought him to the present moment, late one evening, which was entirely too full of Janus’s pestering for Logan’s liking.

“Logan. Logan. Logan. Looooogaaaaaaaan—”

“What do you want, Janus?” Logan snapped, slamming his book down on the table in their shared library. “I’m reading!”

“Can we go to bed soon?” Janus tilted his head to the side. This would have used to make his hair fall in his eyes, but he had had it all cut off the day after his parents left, leaving himself with soft bangs that swooped across his forehead and the wavy red birthmark on his cheekbone on full display. “I’m tired. And you’re noisy when you go to bed later than me.”

“Falsehood,” Logan said crossly.

“You’ve woken me up three times in the last week,” Janus countered, arms folded. “I’m sick of it. So I’ve decided you have to stop staying up late, it’s dreadfully inconvenient for me.”

“Try sleeping better,” Logan snapped. This was, perhaps, unfair, but he was in a prickly mood today. He’d sat in on several meetings to watch how King Romulus and Virgil conducted politics in the real world, as he was expected to do on occasion, and it had been exhausting.

“How about you try sleeping at all in the first place, see if it makes you less of an ass,” Janus retorted. “Or at least gets you to stop taking it all out on me.”

“I do not—”

“Do so.”

“Well, you started it, by deceiving—”

“Oh my stars, you have got to let go of the stupid bookshop thing!” Janus flung his hands in the air. “You did the exact same thing as I did!”

Logan groaned, pushing back his chair sharply and getting to his feet. “Well, you have terrible opinions on philosophy, so—”

“Oh, says the man who thinks the theory of relativity is plausible,” Janus scoffed.

“Wh—” Logan broke off, struggling to string together words in response to something so out of the blue and bizarre. “…That’s just… accepted fact? And it’s not even philosophy?”

“It’s close enough to it,” Janus said assuredly. “You can’t prove it in the physical realm, it’s all talk and ideas. So. It’s philosophy.”

He had to be messing with Logan. This was exactly the kind of thing he did to start arguments: say something they both knew was so false as to be laughable, and insist he believed it until Logan was irritated enough to stop ignoring him. He seemed to take great amusement in it.

Logan fumed, but he couldn’t let it go. “I cannot even begin to explain how wrong you are about every single thing you just said.”

Janus smirked. “So I win, then.”

“No! No, you decidedly do not!” Logan stormed closer to Janus. “You cannot win when your fundamental premise is based on something so laughably untrue as to prevent even the most basic conversation!”

“I don’t know, we seem to be conversing just fine,” Janus said, making a show of looking down his nose at Logan.

“This is not a conversation,” Logan said heatedly, taking another step into Janus’s personal space and jabbing his finger against Janus’s collarbone. “This is me telling you that you are wrong. Unequivocally so. Because you are! About almost everything I have ever heard you say! Is that clear?”

Janus made a strangled noise, visibly swallowing, his cheeks flushing bright pink. “I—uh—” He stuttered to a halt, his eyes very round.

Logan realized that he had backed Janus all the way up against the wall and that they were standing very close together. He quickly stepped back. “…Apologies.”

“It’s fine!” Janus said, voice high and unsteady. “Just—just fine and dandy, actually, um—what were we talking about?”

Logan blinked at him several times. “What?”

“Never mind,” Janus said, shaking his head. “I—I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m just—tired. Yes. That’s it.”

“Did I scare you?” Logan asked, uncertain, feeling guilty in spite of himself.

“What? No,” Janus said. “I’m fine, can we stop talking about it now, please?”

Logan bit his lip, and Janus visibly zeroed in on the motion, cheeks flushing again. “Fine,” Logan acquiesced, looking away. “I—I apologize for losing my temper.”

“Sure,” Janus said, voice almost back to normal. “I’m—going to go get ready for bed.” He all but fled from the room.

Logan stared after him, bewildered, then shrugged and went to place his abandoned book back on the shelf where it belonged. When he heard a high-pitched, muffled shriek, wordless but definitely Janus’s voice, he could not withhold his concern any longer. He stepped into the bedroom. “Are you alright?”

Janus, sitting on the bed with his knees drawn up to his chest, started and looked up from the pillow he was mumbling a whole string of curses into, face flushed red up to the tips of his ears. “I’m fine,” he said, voice cracking, a somewhat forced smile sliding into place. “Just—just processing something. How are you?”

Logan, who was feeling incredibly off-kilter about this whole conversation, shrugged. “I am also fine?”

“Good,” Janus said, still smiling a little too hard. “Good, good, that’s great. Glad to hear it.” He got to his feet and fled to the bathroom and his skincare routine.

Logan changed into pajamas; a thought occurred to him. He knocked on the bathroom door and poked his head in. “Was all of that just to distract me from your stupid theory of relativity thing?” he demanded.

“What?” Janus stared at him blankly for a moment. “Oh! Uh, yes. Absolutely. That’s exactly what it was. You caught me. Oh no.”

Logan squinted at him; Janus held up his hands in an unassuming shrug, smiling very blandly.

“Well. You’re still wrong,” Logan said after they stared each other down for a moment and no new information was forthcoming.

“And you’re still short,” Janus retorted.

“I hate you,” Logan said immediately.

“What, because I’m taller than you? Goodness, that explains why you’re so horrible all the time. How many people do you interact with in a given day? And they’re, what, all taller than you?” Janus shook his head, grinning. “That must be very hard for you.”

Logan, fuming, told Janus exactly where he could put his opinion and marched out of the bathroom, the sound of Janus’s laugh ringing in his ears. They exchanged no more words as they conducted their various nightly routines, though Janus smirked at Logan every time they made eye contact and Logan flipped him off several times, which did nothing to stop the smirking. At last they both climbed into bed—Logan shut off the light, as had become his habit when they went to bed at similar times to each other. His side of the bed was closer to the lamp on the wall, but that did not make him feel less salty about this state of affairs.

There was silence for a few moments, the quiet darkness settling itself about them, a sliver of moonlight coming through the crack where the drapes met and tracing a line along the foot of the bed. Logan lay on his back with his hands behind his head and his thoughts swirling, going over all the reasons why Janus was wrong about everything over and over again inside his head.

At last he was fed up with it. “And another thing,” he said, propping himself up on one elbow and pulling out one of the pillows in the wall down the center of the bed.

Janus rolled over to stare at him through the newly created gap. “What?” he mumbled, sounding sleepy.

“Physics has nothing to do with philosophy,” Logan informed him. “They’re completely different disciplines.”

“Tell that to my first lady-in-waiting,” Janus said, yawning. “Lauren. She was such a laugh, I adored her.”

“I will!” Logan frowned. He didn’t care how amusing this person was, a wrong opinion was a wrong opinion.

Janus shrugged. “You can’t. I have no idea where she is. My parents fired her for encouraging me to come out. I haven’t seen her in years.”

Logan was silent, caught off-guard. “That’s… depressing.”

“Yes.” Janus shrugged again. “I miss her, but I mean, she’s probably better off away from Mother and Father. Everyone is.”

“I’m sorry,” Logan said quietly.

Janus was quiet for a moment. “Thanks.”

“Forgive me for saying this if I am overstepping, but your parents sound horrible,” Logan burst out.

Janus let out a startled laugh. “You’re not wrong,” he admitted. He paused. “That’s… why I act so arrogant all the time, I think,” he added, almost in a whisper, staring up at the ceiling. “I had to act like I had an absolute god complex in order to get even basic respect from them after I came out. It’s a force of habit at this point. Or a defense mechanism, or something. I don’t know.” He drew in a long breath and let it out again.

“Oh,” Logan said quietly.

Janus chuckled, not sounding like he meant it. “Indeed.”

There was an uncomfortable silence.

“I feel—” Logan began in a whisper, not even entirely sure why he was saying it. “I—I feel like I have to be perfect in order to—to matter. To make sure there’s no excuse to dismiss or ignore me. My brothers and my father care about me, but to everyone else I’m… the second prince. The backup. I don’t really matter.”

Janus let out his breath in a long sigh. “I… I think I get that.” He glanced over at Logan with a rueful half-smile. “So, we’re both assholes for attention, is that it?”

Logan wrinkled his nose. The phrasing was crude, but all the same—“Something like that,” he admitted softly.

Janus’s smile got a little more genuine. They were both quiet for a moment, looking at each other with something far more like understanding than they had yet experienced.

Janus drew in a deep breath, rolled to lie on his back, and very obviously changed the subject. “Anyway, I told you. That physics thing is all theoretical, so until you come up with a way to get concrete proof, I can treat it like a philosophical debate.”

Logan groaned. “That is a falsehood.”

“I know,” Janus said sweetly. “I just don’t care. It’s funny. Now, do you plan to keep me up arguing all night, or can we go to sleep?”

Logan harrumphed, but begrudgingly replaced the pillow into the wall between them and fell back into silence, tossing and turning on his pillow as Janus’s breath slowly evened out. But eventually, his tired body won out over his speeding thoughts and he too drifted off to sleep.

 ***

 Logan paused in the middle of the path in the palace gardens, doing a double take. He squinted up into the apple tree he was passing beneath. “Janus?”

Janus, seated some twenty feet off the ground, yelped and started and grabbed onto the branch to keep his balance. “Hello,” he called down, somewhat unsteadily. “What are you doing here?”

Logan blinked up at him. “I could ask you the same thing. I feel with better grounds to do so.”

“Fair enough.” Janus shrugged. “I like it up here. I come here to think.” He gestured at the foliage about himself. “And eat apples, sometimes.”

“Ah,” Logan said. “Am I—disturbing you?” He and Janus had been in a tentative, uneasy peace since the odd vulnerable conversation they’d had a couple of weeks ago. Logan felt uncertain around Janus now, never knowing what to expect from him. He could be by turns the most horribly annoying man Logan could imagine, and actually not all that bad.

Janus shook his head. “No.” He tilted his head, his smirk slipping on. “I’m taller than you. A lot taller than you, up here.”

“You are the same height you have ever been,” Logan countered, crossing his arms.

“Still taller than you,” Janus singsonged.

“Oh, shut up.” Logan rolled his eyes.

Janus grinned. “Want to come up?” He patted the branch beside himself.

Logan’s mouth fell open at the invitation; he snapped it shut. “I—absolutely,” he found himself agreeing. He fumbled a little with the unfamiliar branches on his way up, but was too used to climbing the tree outside his own bedroom to truly be at a loss as he ascended. He settled onto a branch a couple of feet away from Janus, sitting facing him with his legs dangling. “Now what?”

Janus shrugged. “Look at the view? Talk? I really don’t care what you do.” He waved a hand airily.

“Me coming up here was your idea,” Logan mumbled under his breath, but he craned his neck around, examining the view as Janus had suggested. Although they were not all that high up, he had to admit, it wasn’t a bad vantage point. Particularly to the east: the ground declined on a gentle slope, leaving an unobstructed view of the sky stretching away from them.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Janus murmured, watching Logan’s face and seeming pleased with what he found there.

“It is,” Logan had to admit. “I see why you like it up here.”

Janus nodded. “Plus, it’s quiet. People don’t notice me most of the time, so they don’t bother me.”

“Ah.” Logan hesitated, unsure whether or not to apologize for intruding.

“You’re fine,” Janus said quickly. “Gave me a bit of a scare, but I—I don’t mind you, honestly.” He glanced away, cheeks tinged with pink, picking at a loose thread on his trousers.

Logan made a small “huh” noise. “I find your presence… sometimes pleasantly tolerable,” he offered after thinking it over. “Sometimes.”

Janus snickered. “How touching.”

They were both silent for a moment too long, stretching into awkwardness. “So—” they began at the same time, then broke off with quiet laughter.

“You can go first,” Logan gave in with a sigh when Janus looked at him expectantly.

“Good,” Janus said primly. “I was saying, how do succession laws work here?”

Logan blinked at him. “Why?”

“I don’t know, I’ve been wondering for a while. I mean, you all look like your father in different ways. That’s just allowed here?”

Logan stared, trying to parse any semblance of meaning out of his speech. “I… don’t understand what you’re saying,” he had to admit at last.

“Passing on the crown to a blood relative,” Janus said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I—I mean, you all are, aren’t you?”

“…Yes,” Logan said. “I mean, technically we’re all half-siblings except the twins, but Dad birthed us all. Is that what you mean?”

“Yes—wait, your father is trans too?”

Logan blinked. “Yes? Did you not know that?”

“No! How would I have?” He made a face. “That explains why your whole life is so perfect.”

Logan squirmed, but Janus was not exactly wrong. “I… yes, I suppose. I am certainly grateful that I had to explain so little to him,” he admitted, a little ashamed never to have considered how lucky this was before. “But what do you mean, how would you have known? It’s not at all secret? And he’s the king. Everyone knows. How would you not have known?”

Janus blinked, taking this in and thinking about it, then made a face. “Oh. My parents must’ve made sure not to let me know. They hated me knowing other trans people or even hearing about them. I only even knew about you because they had to explain why you had a different name.”

“I see.” Logan winced. “Point taken.”

Janus grimaced and moved on. “But my point was, you’re all related to your father by blood? And any of you can just inherit the crown from him? Is that really how you do it here?” He spoke as if this were somehow scandalous.

“I—I mean, customarily, yes,” Logan said, still bewildered. “The heir can be anyone, I think, but they are legally considered the child of the ruler once they’re selected, even if they weren’t before. So it usually winds up being the ruler’s actual first child, biological or otherwise, unless there’s a reason to choose someone else. There’s a lot of training they have to undergo in order to prepare to assume the crown, it takes years and years. If—if anything had happened to Dad before Virgil had completed it, the kingdom would have been placed under the regency of the Royal Council until Virgil was properly trained. But he finished it all when he was twenty, so now he only has to testify in front of the council every five years to show that he still knows it all.”

Janus listened to all this with his chin in his hands. “That’s fascinating,” he said with a wrinkled nose.

“Why, how does your kingdom do it?” Logan was baffled by what could possibly make this setup seem so odd to Janus.

“Oh, well, the Philos royalty apparently had this lovely little incest problem a couple centuries ago,” Janus began cheerily.

“Ah. Charming.” Logan made a face.

“Exactly!” Janus nodded. “So now it’s illegal for a blood relative within two generations of any monarch to assume the crown. Usually the royal family adopts—my parents did. And Patton and his fiance Emile are already planning for their own children.” Janus shook his head. “Your way is very strange.”

“I—my understanding is that it’s fairly standard, as far as inheritance laws go,” Logan said hesitantly. His knowledge on this topic was not in depth, mostly coming from the much less vigorous training he’d had to go through himself as the second heir, but he had never learned anything to make him believe his kingdom’s situation was anything out of the ordinary.

“I don’t care, the fact that it’s different from mine makes it strange,” Janus told him, grinning cheekily.

Logan pursed his lips, trying not to rise to the bait. “How self-centered.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Janus said, sounding delighted. “I’m very good at that.”

“Most people would not consider that a good thing.”

Janus wrinkled his nose. “You sound like Patton.”

“Sorry,” Logan said quickly—after all, Janus’s parents were a touchy subject, and he didn’t want to assume his brother was excluded from that. “Is that bad?”

“What?” Janus looked at him blankly. “No. It was just inconveniencing me not to be automatically right. Why would it be bad?”

“I—you don’t seem to like your family very much,” Logan explained, hesitant.

Janus frowned. “I don’t like my parents. Patton is the best person in my life, the only one who made the last few years livable for me, and my best friend.” His frown deepened. “Anyone who dislikes him, or says anything bad about him ever, is my enemy.”

“I—sorry,” Logan said, taken aback by the sharpness in Janus’s tone. “I didn’t know.”

Janus crossed his arms and looked away. “No, that’s just too bad for you. I think I shall never forgive you,” he said haughtily.

Logan couldn’t tell if he was serious or not. “Janus—”

Janus snickered. “Fine, you get one second chance, but only because I like you.”

Logan froze, feeling like his whole world had flipped on its head. “…Pardon?”

“I said it’s fine because I—” Janus broke off, face flushing. “I—oh. I, I meant—I—”

“It—it’s fine,” Logan managed, still feeling unbalanced and disoriented. “I rather recall you saying you hated me, is all.”

“I…” Janus blinked several times, as if collecting his thoughts, and when he went on his face and voice were much calmer. “Oh, I did, of course. Very much so. And you deserved it, I might add.”

Logan rolled his eyes. “Must you always be so rude?”

“Prove me wrong,” Janus challenged.

Logan bit the inside of his cheek and looked away.

“That’s what I thought,” Janus said. “Anyway. I changed my mind. Because I am an extremely mature and kindly man.”

“Oh, yes, those are definitely adjectives I associate with you,” Logan teased.

“Shut up or I’ll push you out of this tree and make it look like an accident,” Janus sniffed. “Anyway, we can’t keep fighting forever, it’s exhausting. And you’re—you’re alright, sometimes. So I don’t hate you anymore.” He smirked. “I just didn’t think you needed to know that.”

Logan was torn between making another witty retort and actually acknowledging what Janus was saying beneath all his layers of snark. “I—well, then,” he said, the more decent side of him winning out. “…Truce?” He offered his hand, reaching across the space between the branches they each sat on.

Janus relaxed, a small smile slipping onto his face for just a second before he masked it. “I don’t know, what’s in it for me?”

Logan sighed, retracting his hand. “If you’re going to be like that about it—”

“No, no, I want to be friends,” Janus said quickly. He bit the inside of his cheek. “I just don’t want to have to get all chummy and sweet with each other. I like arguing with you.”

Logan felt himself relax in turn, though he hadn’t realized he’d been tense. “That’s more than fine with me,” he said, and discovered it to be entirely true. When had that happened? “I mean, you’re wrong often enough that it would be hard not to.” He offered Janus a challenging grin.

“And yet you still forget how to prove it, no matter what we’re talking about, if I just point out I’m taller than you.” Janus examined his fingernails innocently.

“I—you—that never has anything to do with what we argue about!”

“No, but it still helps me win, because it always distracts you,” Janus said, grinning. “And it’s really funny to watch you jump and stand on your toes and the like.”

“I don’t do that,” Logan said at once, which was patently untrue.

“Oh, of course you don’t,” Janus said sweetly. “And I’m actually an elephant with swan wings in disguise. Those are both very true things. Especially the part about you not being petty about being short.”

“Now who’s getting pushed out of the tree?” Logan said, but he couldn’t quite hold back a smile as he said it.

That startled a giggle out of Janus, a noise of pure delight that sparked an answering feeling in Logan’s chest. Janus’s laugh—it wasn’t so bad, actually. It was contagious and delightfully appealing, now that he thought about it.

Logan decided he was very glad they’d made the agreement to be friends.

He was even more glad when, after a few days, during which his and Janus’s attitudes towards each other became noticeably less malicious, Virgil pulled him aside while Janus was doing a jigsaw puzzle with the twins. “I’m glad to see you two are finally getting along,” he said. “I knew you’d figure something out. Well done.” And he smiled, the first proud smile Logan had received from him in months.

Logan had glowed under the praise and, even better, the knowledge that Virgil wasn’t upset with him any longer. Things were finally beginning to regain their equilibrium in his life.

Yes, Logan was very, very glad to be friends with his husband.

 ***

 “Logan!” Janus, who had been out with Remy all day, shouted late one evening, bursting into the suite so hard that Logan heard the door slam against the wall. “Logan—Logan, are you here?”

“Whatever is the matter?” Logan called back, concerned, scrambling to make his way to the sitting room. Normally on days like this, Logan would have gone to bed without waiting up for Janus. But for some reason, he’d found himself remarkably disinclined to end the day without seeing his husband’s face, and so he had stayed up in his study on the vaguest pretense of work, waiting for Janus’s return.

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong, it’s good, it’s amazing, I—my voice cracked!” Janus seized Logan’s hands and swung them back and forth, bouncing on his toes, a grin splitting his face open. “Like, definitely for sure cracked! It’s getting deeper!”

Logan relaxed, Janus’s euphoria instigating an answering delight in himself. “That’s wonderful,” he said sincerely, squeezing Janus’s hands. “I can definitely hear it, too.”

“You can?” Janus looked thrilled. “I wasn’t sure if I was just imagining it because I wanted it so badly.”

“No, it’s definitely been getting deeper,” Logan assured him.

Janus made a strangled, gleeful noise, hugging himself and spinning around. Logan, watching, found himself stifling a smile.

“How was your day?” he asked when Janus spun to a stop, clinging dizzily to the nearest piece of furniture.

Janus lit up again. “It was so fun! Remy and I went out to the town—oh, I got you something—” He rummaged in the satchel slung about his shoulders. “Here!” He pulled out a book and thrust it at Logan eagerly.

Logan accepted it with careful hands, already intrigued. “What is this?” He ran his hands over the leather cover and flipped open the book, which appeared to be a philosophy text he hadn’t encountered before.

“Xe’s one of my favorites,” Janus said, leaning over to point at the author’s name on the title page. “And this is a really nice introduction to xyr work—Virgil said you hadn’t read anything by xem. So. I thought you might like it.”

“That is—very thoughtful, Janus,” Logan managed, mind reeling at the amount of consideration and care that had gone into the gift. He’d asked Virgil?

Janus bounced a little on his toes. “Keep looking,” he urged.

Raising an eyebrow, Logan went a few pages further and drew in a sharp breath. “Oh—” He flipped through the whole book, scanning the margins and finding that many of them were marked up with old, faded ink. He looked back up at Janus. “You—it—” He struggled to find words, emotion welling in his chest.

“It’s like in the bookstore!” Janus confirmed. “Like how you said you like them. I got really lucky, finding a marked-up copy of this there.” He seemed greatly pleased with himself, but was still watching Logan’s face anxiously, his cheeks tinged with that same pink that colored them so often lately.

“I—I am touched,” Logan managed, and though the words themselves fell far short of the reaction he wished to communicate, something in his face and the tone of his voice seemed to please Janus. “Thank you,” Logan added, flipping back to the beginning of the book and examining the first note. “Thank you—so much, Janus. This is—it’s very nice.”

Janus’s cheeks went even redder. “Of course,” he said. “I—I mean, it’s not like it was all that special. Remy and I were there anyway, and I just saw it while I was looking around. No big deal.”

Logan doubted very much that this gift had taken as little effort as Janus was trying to imply, but he let it slide. “Well, I appreciate it greatly nevertheless. Thank you.”

Janus bit back a grin and nodded. “I’m—glad,” he said, a yawn breaking the phrase up. He wrinkled his nose. “And tired, apparently.”

Logan chuckled. “Well, it is very late. We should probably go to bed.”

“Yes—what are you doing still up? You didn’t—wait up for me, did you?” Janus looked at Logan doubtfully.

Logan’s cheeks, for reasons unfathomable to him, warmed with embarrassment. “No,” he fibbed, glancing away. “I—I simply lost track of the time. I was—writing.” This was technically true, except for the part where he denied waiting up on purpose.

“Oh,” Janus said, still doubtful. “Alright. Well, your writing can wait till the morning. I’ve decided.”

“How very gracious of you,” Logan teased, but he followed Janus to the bedroom, setting the book he’d been gifted on the sidetable before beginning to prepare for sleep.

As the pair of them got ready for bed, Janus prattled on about his outing with Remy, and all the fun he’d had, as well as offering scathing commentary on a stuffy noblewoman who’d insisted on holding a conversation with the two of them for nearly an hour when she spotted them having lunch. “She was clearly only sucking up to us because of you and Virgil, but I don’t think she could even tell that we knew! We got rid of her eventually, though.” Janus climbed onto the bed and sat with crossed legs on top of the blankets, still talking. “And we saw this new show, it was absolutely droll—I think you’d like it, we should go sometime!”

Logan climbed into his own half of the bed. “Really? What’s it about?” he asked, intrigued in spite of himself.

“Oh!” Janus pulled out a pillow from the wall between them so they could still see each other, crawling under his own covers. “So, it’s this very think-y tragedy, it’s new I think, and it’s about the question of whether or not a life can be meaningful beyond its own existence. It gets very existential, but I really liked that and I bet you would too. There’s a Death character, and the way they’re worked into the narrative is absolutely stunning.”

Logan made a noise of interest. “Kind of like in Letters of Viola, do you mean?”

“Ooooh. Yes, kind of, but there are some distinct differences. The twist actually took me by surprise, I thought it was going to be something totally different.”

Logan found himself deeply fascinated by this prospect, and said as much. The conversation from there quickly turned to discussing their favorite plays—they turned out to have a few in common, and a few that they heartily disagreed on, which prompted a long but mostly good-natured argument. They talked until they grew so sleepy their voices started to slur and stumble, faces close together on either side of the wall of pillows.

Logan wasn’t quite sure when he’d drifted off, or if it had been before or after Janus, but neither of them bothered to put the pillow back and close the wall up again before they slept.

-

Taglist (ask to be added/removed!): @icecoldflames @theimprobabledreamersworld @simplestoryteller @cromatheskeleton

[buckyswheezes]

Cruel Summer (Pt. 1/2)

Premise: Steve was 7, Bucky was 6, and you were 4 when you became family. And it was in the summer of your last year in high school when things started to change.

Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes / What doesn't kill me makes me want you more

author's note: First of all, this did not go the way I planned it to. Second, I was wrong; this isn't one-shot but a two-shot fic. Finally, I hope you guys like it. Again, @lokisblackwidow's post made me do this. Sorry if it's different from what you expected it to be.

warning: this fic contains cursing, sexual shit, and incest. Read at your own risk

It's been 15 years since your family moved to New York to start anew. The concrete jungle, skyscrapers, and bustling broadway shows were a stark contrast to California's tropical and easy-going nature. You were too young, though, to notice such things because you were just three years old at the time and mostly spent your time confused because you haven't seen your mom in a long time.

It's only been dad and your brother Steve for weeks now, and both didn't know how to tie your hair the way you like or read those bedtime stories you loved so much. Years later, you finally realized why -she died. The next thing you knew, you have a new mom and a new brother. It's been that way since.

"How's the college application going?" Steve's gruff voice came from the ongoing Facetime.

"I haven't had my breakfast. Can I please have my breakfast first?" You replied, annoyed. You didn't want to be reminded of that first thing in the morning. You slumped down on the seat beside your mom, and she handed you a cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Thanks, mom," You muttered.

Your dad sat on the other side of the table, flipping through the day's paper, and beside him sat Bucky, stuffing his face with bacon, completely ignoring the chaos around him. The empty seat beside him was where Steve sat (when he's home, that is, which was rare nowadays), but the tablet with his huge face plastered in it was placed on the space on the table, so it felt as if you were all still having breakfast together.

"Ooh, someone's grumpy."

"I'm gonna beat your ass when you get home." You threatened.

"Well, joke's on you 'cause I'm not."

"You're not?" Mom frowned.

Steve shifted to look at her. "I took a summer course this year, Biostats. It'll help with my thesis."

"You sure you're not just fonduing with Maryland girls in the summer?"

"Shut up, Buck. You're the playboy in the family, not me."

"Alright, boys!" Your mom chastised then turned to Steve again. "Well, you take care, and if you need anything, just give us a call."

"Will do."

Steve attended Johns Hopkins University -unarguably one of the best universities in America when it comes to Medicine. He'd always wanted to be a doctor, and even though he never said it, you knew it was because of your biological mom. He could've gotten into Harvard, but like you, Steve itched to get out of New York for a change of environment. It was only Bucky who didn't want to go anywhere, and so he attended NYU.

You love New York, no doubt about that. You grew up exploring its Burroughs, and the Central Park had been a staple in your formative years, but lately, you just wanted to get away from all of it. Recently, something changed, and you convinced yourself that it was because it's your last year in high school and you will be going to college soon.

But you knew there was something else. Well, maybe it was also because you turned 18 early this year, you're legal now, and with your going to college on the other side of the coast, you were excited to have a bit of freedom. CalArts was your first choice, being into Performing Arts and all that. Now, your parents weren't painfully strict, but being the youngest and only girl in the family, they couldn't help but be a little protective.

When Steve went to Baltimore two years ago, you were quite relieved. You get it; you're his only sister, but the way he used to hover around and scare away boys grated your nerves. You were just thankful that by sophomore year, he was gone. He'd passed on the mantle to Bucky, but he didn't really care -well, not as much as Steve did.

"Dad, don't forget you're picking me up later after school. I can't be late for my rehearsal." You reminded. Across the table, your old man's jaw dropped.

"I'm sorry, honey, was that today?"

"Uhh yeah, you forgot already?"

"Sorry, it slipped my mind, honey. How about you pick her up, Buck?" He turned to your step-brother.

"What?!" You shrieked in unison.

"I can't. I have stuff to do." He whined. You roll your eyes at his lame excuse.

"No, it's fine. I'll just ask Peter to come with me."

"Who's he, your new boyfriend?" Bucky spat.

You glared at him across the table. "No, he's not. I don't even have a boyfriend; you and Steve made sure of that." You downed the last of your coffee before shooting daggers at him once more. "Don't pick me up. Go do your stuff."

"Bucky…" It was mom's turn to speak.

"Fine!" He grumbled.

————

"Bye, Peter. See you around!" You stood up from the bench where you and your friend sat as soon as you saw Bucky drove up the school's entrance.

You don't know what your step-brother's problem was, but lately, he'd been nothing but irritable and annoyed, especially with your presence. You didn't wait for him to call you, so you jogged as quickly as you could across the schoolyard, silently climbing on the passenger seat as soon you reached where he pulled over.

You cast a wary glance at him; he didn't speak to you since you got on. He didn't even acknowledge your presence. His jaw was set, and he was intent on ignoring you, it seems, for the duration of the ride.

You and Bucky weren't always like this. You two were close; you played a lot when you were kids, you built forts, you wrestled, you chased each other with whatever gooey stuff you put your little hands on. Over the years, he became distant. You'd started to feel distant when Bucky and Steve entered junior high -you just couldn't relate to the stuff they talk about anymore. You're still very close with Steve, but with Bucky, he just drifted further away, especially when you entered high school. Bucky was only two years ahead, so you always saw him around during your freshman year. He was very popular, it seems. Senior girls used to befriend you in hopes of getting close to your step-brother.

You couldn't take it any more of his animosity, so you fully faced him, shifting in your seat. "Have I done something wrong, Buck?"

He looked at you incredulously for a second before turning his attention back on the road.

Annoyed at his lack of response, you hit his shoulder with your fist.

"What the hell y/n! I'm driving. Do you want us to die?!" He growled.

You retreated back to your seat, feeling remorseful for a second. Only for a second, then you burst out crying. "I hate you! I wish you're not my brother!"

You heard him chuckle, but he obviously wasn't amused. "Yeah, wish you weren't my sister too."

———

Bucky was in his last year in high school when he noticed it. He was waiting outside the school library because you said you needed to borrow a book before the two of you go home.

When Steve went off to college, he promised he'd look after you. He noticed firsthand how guys from all grade levels flock to you, hoping they'd catch your attention. Now, Bucky knew what these guys really want, and that's to get in your pants. Over his dead body would he allow that to transpire. So you two always walked home together.

He craned his neck to peek through the giant doors, wondering what's taking you long when he saw you chatting with a guy. His brows furrowed while his lips formed a thin, grim line.

Your smile reached your ears, your eyes glistened in obvious delight, and your cheeks flushed. Your shy gaze was directed at the guy in front of you.

Bucky frowns even more, when the guy ruffled your hair, a gesture that only he has the right to do (he believes). He felt a vein in his head pop in irritation. He felt like punching someone.

"Hey, Buck, let's go!" You chimed, pulling him out of his murderous thoughts.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Oh, that's Stephen. A junior in the dance club." You almost giggled.

"Huh." He scoffed.

The next time he noticed it happen was when he stayed around to watch your cheer dance rehearsals. Your skimpy cheerleader outfit didn't leave much to the imagination; that's why he decided to hover around, ready to pounce on whoever looked at you the funny.

Bucky looked away for a second to glance at his phone when screams filled the schoolyard. The next thing he knew, you were in the air -free-falling. He ran as fast as his feet could take him to catch you, his heart pounding in his ears. Fortunately, someone was there to catch you before you hit the ground.

You fell on top of the guy -Stephen. He gritted his teeth, half-annoyed, half-grateful at the piece of shit. He saw how you stayed on top of him for a few seconds more; furiously blushing. The moment he reached you, Bucky yanked you up and from the guy's body.

"You okay?" He fussed, searching your body for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine, Buck. Stephen caught me." You bit your lip as you shyly looked back at the guy. "Umm, thanks again."

"Yeah, thanks, man," Bucky grumbled, pulling you away from the group.

The way your body rested on another guy just didn't sit well with him. Once again, he felt like punching someone, and that someone is Stephen. He hated the way the guy was always around you. Bucky was sure what his motive was, and he'll never let him get it.

"I want ice cream." You muttered later that afternoon on your way home.

Bucky scoffed at your request. "What are you, five?"

You stopped walking and faced him, a pout on your lips. "Steve always buys me ice cream."

"Well, I'm not Steve."

"Please, I fell off someone's shoulder and almost hit my head. What if I died?"

"What has that got to do with ice cream?"

"I hate you. You're the worst brother, ever."

Bucky chuckled at your antics; he knew you didn't mean it. You just say that to get what you want because when you were kids, Steve and he used to compete for the Best Brother Award. "Fine." He conceded with a smile. He grabbed your grabbed, and you both ran to the nearest ice cream parlor, ordering one big bowl of banana split sundae and stuffing your faces.

Bucky's whole body tensed when your moans filled your ears. He didn't mind it back then, you were young and innocent, but now, Bucky couldn't ignore the sound spilling from your mouth. Sweat dripped down his nape.

This isn't right.

Your moans seem to ring louder in his ears. The way you licked your spoon clean was not helping his situation either. Bucky thinks about the thin line between sanity and insanity when the chocolate syrup trickled from your lips down to your chin until it reached the supple skin of your neck.

"I need to go to the bathroom." He muttered and hastily jolted from his seat, scrambling away from you. Bucky has a growing problem inside his pants, and he needs to take care of it.

Stop this, Bucky, you need to stop this! His mind chastised while his hands unbuckled his belt. You shouldn't feel this… this way towards her. He's your step-sister. It's wrong.

As soon as he reached his release, he made up his mind. He'll stay away from you; kinda impossible since you both live in the same house, but he'll try his best for both your sakes.

Bucky stopped waiting for you after school. He stopped watching your rehearsals. He stopped helping you with your Math home works and, much to your mom's surprise, he started watching evening dramas with her in the living room every night.

So to answer your question, the one you shot at him when he picked you up from school that day. Yes, you did something wrong.

You grew up. And it's been hard for him to see you as his step-sister ever since.

——————

The last day of school finally rolled in, and you intended to enjoy summer before you start college. What you didn't see coming, though, was being left alone with Bucky for one whole week because your parents are going on a cruise.

"Can't I come with you?" You pleaded, eyes wide as you hauled your mom's baggage into the back of the taxi.

"Sorry, honey. Promise, we'll be back as soon as we can." She replied before giving you a hug.

"Don't leave me here. Bucky's gonna bully me all week."

"He won't, right Bucky?" She raised a brow at him, who stood with his arms crossed, looking annoyed.

"Try not to destroy the house while we're away." Was their final reminder before they went on their way.

Bucky was the first one to get back inside the house. Dread ate up your insides; you two haven't spoken since the car ride. You decided once and for all to get things straight with him. So you marched inside about five minutes later.

Bucky heard you barge in his room, but he remained still -eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. He jolted up when you unceremoniously hit his stomach with a pillow.

"What the hell, y/n?!" He snarled, clearly pissed at your assault.

Your nose flared at his attitude. "What is your problem, James Barnes?" You growled in return.

"Am I the one with a problem here?"

"Oh, come on! You know what I mean!"

Bucky pushed past you; you trailed behind, following his figure towards the living room. He needed to get away from you, fast. It irked him that you wouldn't stay the fuck out of his way. You'd even come and gone into his room. Bucky couldn't take it; he'd go crazy.

"Why are you avoiding me? Bucky!… Bucky! Answer me, damn it!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, y/n. So, leave me alone." He was about to reach the door when you threw yourself in front of it, barring his way out. "Move."

"NO! You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong." You crossed your arms, planting your feet firmly on the floor. You weren't gonna let this day end without knowing why Bucky acts the way he does. If it was something that you did, then you'd wholeheartedly make it right, but you'll never know if he keeps on brushing you off. So, here you are.

"Y/n, move." Bucky hissed menacingly."

"No, Bucky." You replied in the same manner.

After your brief glaring contest, Bucky finally looked away, sighing in defeat. "Fine. Something's not right, okay? But it's not you, it's… it's… me, so let me handle this myself."

You relaxed and took a step closer to him. "Can't you tell me? I might be able to help."

Bucky looked away. How could he possibly tell you that he's harboring un-brotherly feelings towards you -his step-sister. How could he possibly tell you that you turn him on, that he's having inappropriate thoughts about you for a year now? How could he possibly tell you that he might be falling in love with you?

All those times you spent together when Steve was gone. The times you intently and genuinely listened to his adolescent problems. The times you cheered for him when he played football in high school. You were his number one fan. You were so different from the others, and he hated how it made him look at you differently. He hated when you boys started coming into your life. He always believed that you had a special place in your heart for him, but now he feared that anyone might snatch that place from him. You were his best girl.

Bucky grimaced at his realization. He finally admitted to himself that he is, indeed, falling in love with you. He felt angry at himself. How could he let this happen? He thought he was in control of his emotions.

"Eventually, I'll tell you. But not now." He said softly, hoping you'd let him go.

But you were persistent. "No, Bucky. I want you to tell me now." You demanded.

"Y/n," He growled loudly this time. "Move out of my way!"

"I won't until you tell me."

"Move!"

"Just tell me!"

Bucky's resolve broke. The sirens in his mind went off, but he ignored them as he strode towards you intently. He smirked when your bravado faltered before vanishing completely when he pushed you against the door; your bodies pressed together, making sure you could feel the tent growing against his pants.

Your eyes widened in shock. "Wha-"

"You wanna know why? Huh," He asked through gritted teeth, his face hovered dangerously close to yours that you could feel the hot breath coming through his nose. Bucky didn't give you time to answer because he roughly crashed his lips towards yours. He wasted no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth.

Bucky could feel your hands against his chest, pushing him away. He could hear the muffled pleas of protest as he relentlessly assaulted your mouth. His lips left yours only to find themselves on your neck, sucking on your skin.

"Bu.. Bucky.. stop.. s-s-top." Tears cascaded down your cheeks, but you were frozen in spot, unable to wipe them away.

But Bucky ignored your appeal. He continued sucking your skin while his hands traveled your side, feeling you up. When he couldn't get enough of you, he bit the skin on your shoulder.

You yelped in pain. "Stop! Stop, get off me!"

Still, Bucky did not listen. Dissatisfied with his actions, he dragged and threw you towards the couch; he straddled over you, your hands pinned on the cushion. You squirmed beneath him, trying to escape his hold.

Bucky pulled your shirt up and found his lips back on your skin again; this time, he latched on your erect nipple and sucked as if his life depended on it. When he was done abusing both your buds, he moved to kiss your lips again, but your tear-stricken face met his eyes.

Bucky went stiff as a board, and you used that opportunity to push him, backing off as far as you can from him. Your loud sobs filled the house as you sank to a pool at your feet, hugging your knees to yourself.

You couldn't believe what your step-brother had done. Your mind couldn't begin to fathom his actions.

Bucky sat motionless, his horror-struck at his deed. He bit back the long line of profanities that ran inside his head as he stared dumbfounded at your crumpled figure.

A painful pang of guilt washed over him like a tidal wave. What had he done?

"Y/n.. I-I'm… I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He said and scrambled out of the house.

Bucky didn't come home for three days while you spent it in a daze.

Bucky kissed you; he put his tongue inside your mouth. He touched you in your private parts. He sucked on your nipple while you lay beneath him. He held you like a lover would.

But he was your brother; why would he do that?

The sound of the front door opening pulled you out from your thoughts. Your gaze met Bucky's; he had dark circles around his eyes, and you wondered briefly whose house he crashed when he didn't come home.

"Bucky…" You stood from the couch and approached him.

Bucky liked that about you. You were brave and face things head-on; you're not one to back down, just cause you were scared. But he doesn't think he could handle you right now, not after what he's done. He walked past you, intent on ignoring you.

"After what you did, I at least deserve to know the truth, don't you think?"

Your words hit home. You were right; you deserved at least that much. Sighing, he turned back and sat down on the couch.

"I know this is downright wrong, but I'm in love with you, y/n," Bucky confessed softly, and he heard your small gasp.

"But, we're… I'm your sister."

"step-sister," He corrected. "I can't help it. I love you more than a step-brother could love his step-sister. I love you as a woman y/n. I tried to stop it, but it was hard."

You deserved to know the truth no matter how disgusting, condemning, or how sinful it was.

"I am still trying." Bucky continued, and this time, he gave you a firm look. "And I need, need you to help me."

Your heart skipped a beat. "What do you want me to do, Buck?"

"Stay away from me."

You pulled back in shock. "But-"

"No buts!" He hissed. "Can't you see how hard this is for me? You think it's easy to stay away from you when I love you?" He pleaded. "After this, I want you to stay away, don't talk to me unless it's a life or death situation."

"Mom and dad will notice."

"Then don't make them notice." He got up and approached you, then reached for your hand, clasping them together. "Please, y/n, you have to."

With a heavy heart, you nodded. Bucky moved and gave you a quick peck on the forehead, and it felt like goodbye.

Weeks quickly flew by, fortunately for the both of you, your parents didn't notice a thing. You bickered like you used to during breakfast, but both of you knew that it was forced. When they weren't around, which was much since both of them worked, you barely talked to each other and were barely left alone in the house.

Bucky spent most of his time playing basketball -his new hobby to get his mind off you. He's always gone during weekends playing with his college friend Sam Wilson. You saw the guy once when Bucky invited him to dinner with your family. After that, Sam can frequently be seen in the house. Your parents were cool with it since Steve didn't come home for summer.

One afternoon, Sam was there again; you could hear their banter all the way up to your room. However, what really bothered you though was the presence of a woman -Sharon. She's Bucky and Sam's classmate in one of their class, and along with Sam, she started hanging out at your house.

You groaned, annoyed. You couldn't focus on the application essay you were supposed to write with that woman's shrill voice downstairs. You slammed your fist against your study table, intent on giving the three a piece of your mind. You stood up and marched downstairs, catching their attention.

Sharon sat between Sam and Bucky, and they were pretty occupied with a mobile game before you came.

"Can you guys keep it down? You're not the only people in the house."

"Oops, sorry, y/n." Sharon squeaked.

"We'll keep it down," Sam promised.

You just nodded before glaring at Bucky, who did not even acknowledge your presence. You grumbled something before storming back to your room, slamming the door close.

Sharon and Sam ended up having dinner with them again. With Sharon seated beside Bucky, again. Your mom told them to drop by again. And, Bucky walked Sharon home, again.

And you were getting tired of this. You wanted to help Bucky, but you can't just sit back and watch him replace you with someone else. No, you can't allow it. This has to stop.

You waited for Bucky to come home; you were in his room sitting on his bed with a determined look on your face.

As soon as Bucky stepped inside, he was shoved against the door, making it slam close. He winced at the pain on his back, but he was startled and shocked when he felt your lips connect with his in a searing kiss. His first instinct was to push you away, but his desire got the better of him. His eyes slipped close, and he kissed you back passionately.

Bucky's thoughts were in a haze as both your lips danced with each other. It didn't take long for him to invade the warmth of your mouth, fingers tangling themselves into your hair, while your hands curled around the front of his shirt, trapped between your heated bodies.

"Why," He moaned before pulling away.

Your ragged breaths filled the room; you looked at him with glistening eyes. "I don't care anymore, Bucky. I don't want to lose you. I don't want to be replaced by Sam or Sharon or anyone else." A tear escaped your eye, and it cascaded down your cheek.

Bucky leaned down and kissed it away, the salty taste lingering in his tongue.

"I want you back, Bucky."

Bucky felt a painful tug on his heart at the sight. He loves you, but he was also the one making you cry. He cannot bear the thought of hurting you. He caressed your cheek and gazed at you lovingly, longingly.

"You're making this hard for me, y/n. For the both of us."

You shook your head once more and pulled his face close to yours. "I don't care anymore, James Barnes. Love me any way you want, just don't… don't leave me again."

Bucky froze at your words. He pulled away then grasped both your shoulders. "Y/n, you don't know what you're saying."

"I do. I'm not a child anymore. I want how we used to be; if accepting your love could get things back to the way it was, I accept it.

Bucky shook his head. "No,…no y/n, nothing will ever be the same if you let me love you the way I want to."

Your face visibly fell at his words. Feeling hopeless, you asked. "Why?"

"Why?" Bucky asked back softly. "Because unlike then, I'll kiss you more like this…" He started and gave you a sensual kiss on the lips. "I'll hold your hand like this…" His hand went to yours, and he intertwined your fingers.

"We used to do that when we were kids."

Bucky just hummed in response. "And I'll pull you close to me like this…" He continued and did just as he said. He pulled you against his heated body and inhaled your scent. "And you'll always ignite that burning feeling inside me, y/n. So, unless you get used to these things, I will not let you do this."

"But we used to do some of those."

"It's going to be a lot different now."

"I don't care. I'm used to it. In fact, I miss it. Don't ever leave me again, Bucky, please. I love you so much."

Bucky's eyes widened in surprise. He could feel the rapid beating of your heart against his. He pulled you in once more for a passionate kiss.

"I love you too, y/n. You don't know how much you make me happy."

[todaydreambelieversfic]

Author Spotlight: Honeysucklepink Day 1

Author : @honeysucklepink​ 

How did you get into Glee and Glee fandom?

I was actually an American Idol fan, and I had seen the previews for the show, but I had already been burned on Eli Stone and honestly didn't want to get into a show that would get cancelled after a few episodes. Plus I was watching Lost and it conflicted (I to this day have not invested in a DVR). But the same site that was recapping Idol started recapping Glee, and more annoyingly my sister was watching it (and yet hated Idol). So anyway, fast forward to the end of Lost, and suddenly my Tuesdays were free again, so I decided to tune in to the "Home" episode. This goes to show how influential fandom can be to how a show is perceived. I loved Will, I was charmed by April, I felt bad for Kurt but rolled my eyes at his pursuit of Finn. I think the only thing that has stayed consistent was being WOWED by Mercedes. I watched the rest of the season, and then I'm pretty sure they re-ran it over the summer (I swear I'm sure they did, though even by 2010 most networks had stopped doing summer reruns).

Even through the second season, I kept up with Glee and other shows via sites like MJs Big Blog and Entertainment Weekly.  But I never was in FANDOM...not until, honestly, Blaine and Darren. I knew he was coming thanks to an EW news item. I was also watching Californication at the time, and they were using his original music to promote the show (Mia's doing, I later discovered). So my joke for a while was that I kept getting hooked on these singer-songwriters from Fox TV shows (David Cook and Kris Allen from Idol, and now Darren). But also by this time I was liking Kurt more...yes I had thought his pursuit of Finn was inappropriate, but then Laryngitis and Theatricality happened and by the time Never Been Kissed was about to air I was like 'THIS BOY NEEDS SOMETHING HAPPY IN HIS LIFE.' And then Blaine sang, and Kurt smiled, and I was a goner.

But I still wasn't there-there. Not until the following summer. The tour was happening, and of course it was happening NOWHERE NEAR ME, so I followed it on social media. I had a Tumblr, but wasn't using it that much. There was a Glee Forum that I frequented much more (don't even ask what my username was, it's long-forgotten). Also, I was in Seattle for a continuing education thing, and I spent a lot of time on my computer...doing work but also taking a lot of breaks by hanging on the forums. I got sucked in...soon I was doing more fan stuff on Tumblr, drifted from Glee Forum, and well, the rest is history.

In general, what drew you into writing (and/or creating)?

I think like a lot of people it was having stories in my head that I wanted to read and, not seeing anyone else writing them, realizing I had to write them myself. Writing fic for me usually goes much more stream-of-consciousness (thank goodness for betas). Very different from the academic writing that I have to do for my career, which involves a lot of research, structure, deadlines, etc. Being Southern and coming from a storytelling tradition helps. And a little morbid, but I think a little fatalism? Knowing we all die in the end, and the idea of leaving a little something behind, something that's not a kid, but a little part of me, that someone comes across and it means something to them. Even if my actual name isn't attached to it, it's still there.

What was it about Glee that made you decide to write fanfic for it?

It wasn't like my little reader prompts were always going to get the attention of a writer, so sometimes a scene would get stuck in my head and I'd just have to write it to get it out, or a song would get stuck in my head that I wished the show would do. Sometimes it was speculation, or wish-fulfillment...I'd read a spoiler and wonder how it COULD go, or see a song done and go "pfft, not how I would have done it, I'm rewriting this." And um, let's be real, I was at the peak of my sexual health, heck I'm pretty sure the show helped me accept that yep I'm really fucking queer, and there are just some Klaine scenes that the ol' Fox Network ain't gonna show you...

Have you been a part of other fandoms before? Have you written fanfiction pre-glee?

I posted in fan communities... I was on an E! board for The Girls Next Door for a while, I was a frequent poster on college football message boards, and of course I was on some boards for Idol (and regrettably, Vote For the Worst). But those communities didn't always stick to the fandom object...like half the time on the GND boards we didn't talk about GND at all! And re: fanfiction, I never read it until season seven of Idol... there was a David Cook saga I really got into (because there was intrigue and stalking and drama), that in retrospect was very much a self-insert Mary Sue (I know that term is fraught but in this case it was SO deserved), there were quite a few "Mavid" one-shots that were pretty juicy, and oh lord there was a D/s with Clay Aiken that, if you try not to actually picture CLAY FUCKING AIKEN, was hot. I really wasn't reading a lot of LGBTQ fic. My one hand at writing fic was as a joke...there was an off-shoot of the VFTW blog, and I wrote an RPF hetero scene of Kris Allen and his wife. To this day I cringe at that. I didn't touch writing fic again until Glee and Klaine.

Is there a trope you’ve yet to try your hand at, but really want to?

I haven't really done a true "enemies to lovers" fic, but I'd like to try it sometime. Or fake dating, that's one I'd need to get inspired by the right set-up.

Is there a trope you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole?

I can't do incest, not even in a "well technically they're stepbrothers so it's not REALLY..." Yes really it's still a NOPE. And while there have been slave fics I've really liked, like the "Def" verse? Um, I'm from the American South, my ancestors go far back enough, fuck no I'm not writing a slave AU.

How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Care to share one of them?

Oh lord, there's maybe two or three...there's one that has the premise written, that I don't know if or when I'll finish it, that has Kurt as a quarterback and Blaine as a center (the guy who is bent over right in front of the QB that passes him the ball), and it's solely inspired by a college football player that waxed poetic at a press conference about what kind of butt a good center should have, and I'll let you fill in the blanks.

***

Check out Honeysucklepink’s Fics

A Place That's Safe and Warm -  Writer and blogger Blaine Anderson just wanted to have a few drinks, hook up with his friend Kurt, and pretend for a little while that his adopted city of Boston hadn’t been attacked. He meant to make a quiet exit the morning after, but overbearing parents, a cranky roommate, and the justice system had other plans.

Later On, We'll Conspire -  My "naughty" fic for Klaine Advent 2015: Kurt and Blaine get snowed in, with an empty loft and an extra-special gift basket from Santana (takes place in Season Five, pre-5.14).

Somebody Loves You -  My "nice" Klaine Advent 2015 fic: missing scenes from Glee Season Six. Chapter titles are the prompts.

[benichi]

I played Chou no Doku (so you don’t have to) - Mizuhito’s Route Part 2

You can read the previous post [here]. A little warning that this part won’t be very funny because it deals with some heavy topics and I don’t want to be disrespectful. Also I didn’t mind this segment of the story as much because things got at least a little more interesting.

Last time we learned that Yuriko’s Father was likely murdered by someone close to the family. She talks to her Brother about it but the conversation is not very interesting so let’s move on. Shiba eventually visits once again, inviting Yuriko to a party hosted by Kyoko’s family. Mizuhito also shows up and since his “cute little sister” wants to join the party he obviously has to go as well.

Cue extravagant party. Shiba is unpleasant as usual but fortunately gets smacked down by Kyoko:

You go girl. Aside from that nothing of interest happens and our siblings slip away from the party to eat at a hotel. Cue awkward exchange between the two:

We all know his answer. But this conversation is only just getting started...

HOW DID WE EVEN GET HERE. After telling Yuriko that she’s basically the only woman he could ever love she gets mad, saying that he shouldn’t joke about these things with his little sister.

Coming up is a big spoiler for the rest of the game so I’m putting it under the read more. Also trigger warning for brief mention of r*pe:

Mizuhito reveals that there’s no blood relation between the two at all. His real father is a distant relative of Yuriko’s mother who was a womanizer. He used to frequently visit the Manor and apparently forced himself on a Maid, which resulted in her being pregnant with Mizuhito. We don’t yet get an explanation as to why Yuriko’s Dad decided to act as though Mizuhito was his though.

Yuriko is visibly shaken up, but she finally understands the real reason why Mizuhito’s personality changed so suddenly. Even Yuriko’s Mother was unaware of his true origin. Mizuhito wonders if a “fake” heir like him could ever do anything for the family. Yuriko quickly remarks that nothing could ever change the time they’ve spent together

But Mizuhito exclaims that he’s never thought of Yuriko as his sister. Not once.

Yuriko who was initially confused and at least mildly disturbed suddenly doesn’t seem as weirded out anymore. This exchange totally reminded me of the Kombucha meme.

They return home. During the night Yuriko wakes up to her Mother screaming. She’s screaming and writhing in bed - surrounded by Chinese bellflowers. Eventually her heart gives out and Yuriko has to face another tragic loss.

The Manor has been in even more trouble following the days after Shigeko’s passing. Yuriko tries to figure out the meaning behind the Bellflowers, which are also called “Kikyo”. Mizuhito shows up and basically tells Yuriko to let things go - since whoever plotted this scheme of revenge should be satisfied now (wow thanks you knight in shining armor - it’s not like you two could be in danger or anything).

Mizuhito is much more interested in how Yuriko will handle Shiba’s proposal now. Very helpful. Eventually he goes on to explain the relationship between Yuriko’s parents more. Apparently her Fathers love was so intense that he did a lot of messed up things in order to keep his Wife close (taking Mizuhito in as his “son” despite that not being true to make her jealous for example).

VIVA LA INCEST MAKES IT’S RETURN. That at least explains what Shigeko was refering to with all of that “blood relationship” talk. Apparently Yuriko’s Father only became more gentle (aka stopped being batshit crazy) after the Brother passed away.

Mizuhito apologizes for the things he said to her that night in the Hotel and says that he wants to save her from this messed up household. Yuriko is smad and doesn’t really know what to make of the situation.

Cue weirdly suggestive scene with Majima in the garden:

-- that’s where we’ll leave things for now. Tbh They dumped most of the interesting story parts into this section. There’s not much else left now - especially cause we don’t get the 18+ scenes. So the next part will be the Grand? Finale.

[shannygoatgruff]

My Brother’s Keeper - Chapter XIII

Genre: Psychological Thriller

Modern Ivar X Modern Hvitserk

Rating: MA+18

Overall Warning:  Dark story told from an emotionally distributed person’s POV with graphic and sadistic material including rape, terror, torture, kidnapping, drug use, slash, implied incest, necrophilia, and insecurity. Heavy trigger warnings.  

Chapter Warning: Description of previous assault.

Summary: Mama always said to be their brothers’ keeper. Now there is absolutely nothing these two won’t do for each other.  Boys will be boys…

Chapter XIII

I've been so busy the last couple of days that I haven't been home much. Judging from the dishes in the sink, I'd say that Ivar hasn't been here either. He's notoriously neat. Like, nothing is ever out of place, neat. I'm not really a slob, but I'm nowhere as neat as he is. He never really complains about the small messes I leave around the house, well, except for my piss in the bathroom, he doesn't. His neat thing is just one of his little idiosyncrasies that I live with. God knows he puts up with enough of mine.

I don't know why these few dishes in the sink are bothering me so damn much.  Had I been the one home for a few days, there probably wouldn’t be a clean dish left in the house.  But, Ivar’s only left a bowl, a fork, and a glass and for some reason, it's driving me crazy. Even if he just left it – it’s just not like him.  He always cleans up the messes. 

Maybe I'm foreshadowing, but it just feels like things are changing.

I had this other shrink tell me that I live in a transferred state. That I'm always transferring the way I feel onto other people. Yeah…she didn't know what the fuck she was talking about, either. If what she said was true, then right now, I should be projecting thoughts around this house that would have me as happy as a pig in shit. 

I want to find Ivar and tell him my good news.  I want him to know how happy I am.  But, if he knew that I just spent the last three days at Thora's dorm looking at bridal magazines, hearing her childish fantasies about this big, fairy tale wedding, complete with a castle and a mote, he'd laugh his ass off. And not in a good way.

In all honesty, I can't help but laugh myself when I think about the way her face lit up when she told me she thought I would look good in a tunic and tights and that she wanted the groomsmen to raise swords for us to walk under.  I wanted to ask her, what groomsmen? I didn’t want to burst her bubble, so I kept my mouth shut, but there won’t be any motes or castles and their damn sure won’t be any groomsmen. 

Besides Ivar, I don't have anybody to invite. Well, maybe Ubbe, but fuck, does he have to know I’m getting married? If he found out, he’d probably tell my other brothers Bjorn and Sigurd and I haven’t seen or heard from them in years. 

Bjorn and I don’t talk anymore and I haven’t seen Siggy since he and Ivar got in that big fight when they were teenagers and I took Ivar’s side.  Our family has never been that close.

I wonder if Uncle Rollo would come?  If Ivar doesn’t already think I’m crazy for getting married, he will if he ever found out I was thinking about Rollo.  He’s liable to have me committed.  I think it would be nice to have some representation from my dad’s side of the family there, but Ivar would fucking flip.  If I even thought about inviting Rollo, I better decide now who would I rather have there, my brother or my uncle.  

Oh well, I guess if Ivar doesn't completely stop talking to me over this little stunt, he’s going to be looking pretty fucking stupid holding a sword by himself.

Instead of thinking about how pathetic my side of the church is going to be, I might as well see what that bitch from the news is up to.  The only time I get to watch it now is when Ivar isn’t around. He would have a fucking fit if he knew that’s what I was putting on. He’s been extremely overprotective lately.  

I would have thought after our night with Bishop and Aud that he would relax a little. He saw how much I needed that and how much they helped me in the confidence department, but he’s still been treating me like a porcelain doll.  

He still won’t let me watch the news.  He freaked the fuck out when I told him I was taking Thora out to dinner and went ballistic when I told him I was staying the night at her place.  Now that he hasn’t seen me in a few days, I don’t have a clue what kind of mood he’s going to be in.  He keeps saying something about being worried that I’m not ready to be social yet – that he’s afraid I’m going to have another blackout. I haven’t blacked out in over a week, but he still doesn’t want me out of his sight. I swear it’s more to it than that, only he won’t be straight with me and tell me what it is.    

Foreshadowing my ass. Things are definitely changing.

Wait...where's that Judith Wessex news bitch? I’ve developed a relationship with that fucking reporter that likes to dump on us. I know it seems crazy, but I feel like if I can just keep my eye on her, hear firsthand what lies she's spreading, that I have some control over the situation.  Knowing what she knows about us has been almost settling for me, because I know I’m still one step ahead of her nosy ass. But, she's not on today. Where the fuck is she? Is she combing the streets making up more lies? Is she retracing our steps and writing a story to put our entire lives on display for the public? 

Little does she know, I've stopped…so fuck you, bitch!  Ha! I can't wait to see her pinched fucking face when she has nothing else to lie about. Fucking whore. I hate that bitch more when she's not on TV then when she is. And the fact that I don't know where she is making me uncomfortable.

Turning my head toward the sound of the kitchen, I see Ivar emerging from the basement stairs. "Hey there. Long time, no see." He smiles brightly as he walks toward me and kisses me on the head. "How are you feeling?"

I never take my eyes off of him as he rounds the couch to sit beside me. "Good. Tired, but good." He looks genuinely happy to see me. I feel myself smile as I reach across the couch to wipe away a smudge of dirt from his cheek. "What have you been into?"

He moves his head away from my hand before capturing it in his own. "You know... this and that. Gotta new project I'm working on." When Ivar's being vague, I tend not to question why. He never gets himself into more than he can handle. We share our lives, but how we share is completely different. I am an open book to him, mainly because I can't seem to control my emotions. He shares with me by being supportive. It's not that I don't care what he's got going on; it's just, Ivar doesn't need help. He tells me what I need to know and works the rest out on his own. "How's the pixie?"

There it is, the Thora sarcasm. I knew it was going to happen, I just didn’t think it would happen two minutes into our conversation. I wanted to sit here and shoot the shit with him for a little while, talk about regular shit before the conversation drifted over to her.  But, he already brought her up.  It’s like he knows that she’s on my mind or that I have something that I need to talk to him about.  

He's my everything - I don't keep secrets from him and sure as fuck can't lie to him. But on the same token, I don't ever want to hurt him. What if he takes this news as a betrayal?  "Good." That's not what I wanted to say, but it's all that will come out my mouth at the moment. 

"Just good? What? No animated hearts floating above your head when you talk about her? Where are the sparkles and glittery fairy dust? She's losing her touch, Hvitserk." He gives me this smile and rolls his eyes in annoyance.  God, I hate this. He must sense my mood changing because he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my open palm. "Aww, I’m sorry, baby. I’m just joking."

I haven't been this afraid to tell him something since the time I told him about my hobby.  That was the single biggest leap of faith I have ever taken with anyone in my life.  Telling him about Thora is nowhere near the same magnitude, but fuck if I’m not just as afraid.

For some reason, it had always been easiest to talk to Ivar and he is my youngest brother. But that night, when I came back to our parents’ house, I just couldn’t go back to my place and be alone. I went to his room to sleep on his floor.  Maybe it was because he was the only one of my brothers that was home at the time or maybe because we always seemed to have this connection. Whatever it was, it just felt safe to be there with him. He didn't judge me or ask me a lot of questions. He didn’t tell me to go to my old room or get the fuck out of his.  He just moved over in his bed and patted the space next to him – he lifted his covers for me to crawl in next to him, so I did.  I don’t think either of us knew why.  I just know that I needed someone and he knew that I was in a funk that I couldn’t get out of and he never made fun of me for it.

Those first few nights, he would lay next to me and stroke my hair silently, so lovingly and just let me cry without prying. I don't know what made me tell him. I guess I just couldn't keep it in any longer. Maybe it was knowing that his blue eyes were desperately searching for what was making me so unhappy, or maybe it was the soothing sound of his breathing? Whatever it was, I was scared but I trusted him. 

I swear I felt then just like I feel right now.

It just didn't seem that hard then. I just knew that I had to tell somebody before my secret-self ate me alive. Sweaty palms and a heartbeat that I couldn't control couldn’t stop me from divulging. Someone had to see the real me before I completely disappeared. So I told him. I told him about the hunger and how crazy it made me feel. I told him how I like to hurt them, restrain them, feel them fight against me. I tried to explain the tears and how they excited me. The punching and scratching, biting, and resisting… the guilt, the pain, the endless crying, and apologizing over them as they lay bloody and unconscious. I never meant to hurt any of them I just needed them to make me feel normal again. And it had worked for a while.

Until her…

She was supposed to be like the rest of them, but no matter what I did, it wasn't enough. She loved it more than I did. I wasn't strong enough to break her and when I stopped, she begged for more. She needed it more than me. She was sick, all the things she asked me to do. And what was sicker was I couldn't do them. But she finally stopped asking when I broke the bottle and used it to please her. 

I don't know why I did it. Nothing I was doing on my own would hurt her enough. I didn't think it would kill her. But there was so much blood. I mutilated her to settle something in me.

He listened silently as I recounted how I lost control and killed her so that I didn't have to hear her call me a failure. He understood that that's what led me back home that night and why I ended up on his floor.  He knew that the one thing I had to make me feel powerful she had taken away from me so I ended her life and that I would rather kill myself than to live knowing that I was that weak. I still can't believe I told him that. I have never told anyone that much about myself.

I just knew that Ivar would tell me to get the hell out of the room, or that we weren’t brothers anymore. But he didn't. Instead, he held me tight and soothed my tears. He told me he understood. Then he told me about the things that haunt him.

I felt like we connected when he explained the way the screams help him sleep at night. I understood what he meant by the smell of fear being sweeter than any perfume. It felt like he was reading my diary. I got how his hunger was so unbearable that he felt like he was losing his mind. I knew the feeling of ants crawling in my blood; it was just like that for him.

I had finally found someone that understood me. I had no idea that my baby brother felt so many of the same feelings that I did.  The one person in the world that wouldn’t think I was a freak had been in my life all of this time. My insecurities, my awkwardness, my past time…nothing seemed to deter him from being there for me. If anything, I think it brought us closer.

Ivar took me under his wing and taught me how to take pride and pleasure in what it is that we do. He showed me how to make what is mine into an art form. He helped me learn to accept true love and know that I am worthy of it…even if I don't have my shit together. He proved to me time and time again that nothing I do is enough to make him leave me.

So why the fuck am I petrified to tell him about Thora?

Taking a deep breath and fix my eyes on the couch cushion between us. "I'm getting married." Slowly my eyes raise to meet his face and I blink back the sheer terror that runs through me. If I could just read his expression I would feel more at ease. But for now, his expression is blank. "I–I proposed to her. S-She said yes." I try to sound relieved but I know it comes across as uncertain. I'm not unsure about Thora, I'm unsure about his silence.

Nothing. He says absolutely nothing. He's completely still and only his sporadic blinking lets me know that he's still paying attention. He never lets my hand go nor does he increase his grip to show his anger. Sometimes I hate how aloof he can be.

"Ivar. This is what I want. I want a normal life. This thing that we do isn’t normal. I use to think it was, but it's not.” I take a deep breath, “The papers are full of a hundred stories of other people that do what we do, but most of them can control it better than we can.  They don’t go around partying as hard or as often.  We’re losing control, man." I stand from the couch and start to pace in front of the television. His eyes follow me back and forth, but the look on his face never changes. "We can't do this forever. I just want a chance, like Mother and Father had.  Okay?" I don't know why I'm crying. He hasn't said anything, but his silence is even worse than him yelling. I just want him to talk to me. "Say something, please."

He closes his eyes and folds his hands neatly in his lap. It takes a second for him to formulate the words. When he's ready and his eyes open, he turns his body to face me and he cocks his head and fixes me with an eerily calm glare. "What would you like me to say?"

"Something. Anything. Let me know you're okay with it. Tell me you still love me and that you'll never leave me." Ivar's approval means to me than even I understand. But I know he won't approve of this. "Tell me that you're still proud of me."

He shakes his head sadly and his eyes soften. I don't want him to react to my reaction but I know that's what he's doing. Just once, I want Ivar to tell me how he feels without treating me like I may break. "Hvitserk…"

I am going to get married. I have to learn how to stand on my own feet if I'm going to be able to carry Thora for the rest of our lives. I can take it. I can take whatever he says. But he has to know how I feel. "She makes me happy. I love her."

A cool smile spreads across his face before a throaty laugh escapes him. I don't like it when people laugh at me, especially Ivar. "Please, don't laugh at me, Ivar."

"I'm not laughing at you, Serk. I'm laughing at the absurdity of the situation." He stands slowly and runs his fingers through his hair. Even now he's so fluid. Nothing in his body language shows how he feels. But the smooth tone of his voice alerts me that he's less than happy. "I'm not going to give you permission if that's what you're looking for. You think this is what you want, but it's not." He stands in front of me and places a kiss on my forehead. "I've taught you everything you need to know. I have shown you the beauty of who and what you are. But the one thing I can't do is make you accept it. So if that pixie, cunt, bitch is what will keep you entertained for a while, then by all means. And when the feeling overwhelms you and you know what it is that you need, I'll be right here waiting for you."

I would rather him yell at me then to use that disappointed tone of voice. I wish I could take back the last three days and have just kept that damn ring in my pocket. But, I want this. I deserve it. I've been fighting this thing in me since I was fourteen years old. Isn't it time for it to stop controlling me? Isn't it time for me to be happy. "It's not like that, Ivar."

"Then why are you crying, Sweetie?" He leans down to whisper in my ear and I feel my heart breaking at his words. "If you were sure, you would have told me and not felt the need to defend it."

I sniffle back the emotion that's taking over me at the moment. I feel dizzy and nauseous, but I'm not letting that give me an excuse not to deal with the events of my life. I will not blackout. I will deal with discomfort and not second guess my actions.

I am sure. I'm sure that I don't want to lose him but that I want a normal life. "I'm done." My lips move to say the words but no sound comes from my mouth. I want him to understand that I mean it when I say it, but I just haven't found the strength yet.

"Okay." He says it with a smile and I know he doesn't believe me.

"I mean it." I find my voice and raise my eyes to finally meet his. I'm not backing down. Not this time. "I'm not doing it anymore."

With a shrug, Ivar turns away from me and heads towards the stairs. "You say that now. You might even think that you believe it. But you can't escape it."

I watch him walk up the stairs and I find myself at the foot of them, scared to death. "Just don't stop loving me. Please?"

He turns to me and I swear I see tears in his eyes. "I'll never stop loving you, Brother. I just don't support you in this one. You can have all the dreams you want, baby. But you can never stop being who you are."

Ivar's usually right about everything. I just pray to God that he's not about this.

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[yakumtsaki]

Alright you guys, sorry for the delay, I’ve had to restart this post 20 fucking times because my changes weren’t being saved in the draft and then I kept getting the ‘upload failed’ error. In case you don’t remember wtf is going on you might wanna re-read the last update (I certainly had to) which is apparently from JUNE 2018. Jfc I suck so hard. Now this was gonna be really long but tumblr wouldn’t post it so I’m breaking it up in 3 parts, part 2 to be posted tomorrow. For those that don’t feel like reading back, general recap of the last couple updates:

Jojo cheated on Wyatt with Max Flexor and my solution to that marital crisis was to adopt our first dog ever, a puppy hilariously named Maxx.

The puppy grew up to be an asshole and is constantly beating up the cats, who have turned into giant pussies (no pun intended) and are losing every fight to him despite the fact they’re named after Mortal Kombat characters. They’re a fucking disgrace to Alegra’s/Victor’s/Ronroneo’s memory and I haven’t settled on a cat heir yet because they both suck.

Jojo is perma miserable, I don’t even remember how much money away from his 100k LTW, and still not a werewolf despite my pathologically persistent attempts to make him friends with the wolf.

Fucking useless Wyatt didn’t get promoted while Komei was alive providing us with his 100 townie friends, we spent 20 updates befriending every rando that crossed our lot to secure his promotion, and then finally on the day he was supposed to become Captain Hero, Wyatt got, of course, fired and is now on track to take longer to complete his literal career based LTW than Komei took to get 6 pets on the top of their careers.

Absolutely everyone hates noogie addict Shajar, she got a Kylo Ren makeover, and we still don’t know what her sexual orientation is thanks to her ridiculous fitness/fatness turn ons and cleanliness turn off.

Golden child/10 nice points freakshow Cyneswith grew up, rolled romance with the most disturbing turn-ons/offs possible (grey hair/mechanical & charisma turn off) and the 20 simultaneous lovers LTW.

Wulf grew up into a kid, got an Amadeus makeover, is officially a Wyatt clone and the only member of this family I don’t completely hate yet.

Now I’d like to begin the first Union post in more than a year by requesting you do me a solid and lower your expectations for this thing as far down as humanly possible. Like really try to recreate the Jules Verne classic “Journey to the Center of the Earth” with your expectations here, because my brain is so fucking fried that there’s a 20% chance I randomly start citing sources at some point during this post. This grad school crap has seriously been the worst trade deal in the history of trade deals, maybe ever. And speaking of bad trade deals, let’s get this update rolling with the man, the myth, the legend, the husband who managed to make Komei look like a dreamboat in comparison..

..Wyatt fucking Union, née Monif. It’s been a long time, but I’m not gonna lie to you Wyatt, not nearly long enough. Looking good man, just one small question, where the fuck are your eyebrows?

-You àccidéntally deléted thém, imbécilé, et I cannôt exprèss my irritatiόn prόperly becausé I hàve non eyebrôws!

Did your selective French accent get thicker this past year or is it just me?

-It géts thickér whén je suis distrésséd, givé moi mon eyebrôws bàcc!!!

No can do, brother. Actually can do, but I think the Mona Lisa look is working for you, and more importantly I still hate you, so I’m just gonna hardcore ignore you for the rest of this post if that’s ok. Talk to me when you finally get promoted, aka never the way this shit is going.

-Non! NON! MON EYEBROWS!

It’s been lovely catching up.

Jojό I mean Jojo, goddammit Wyatt, is spending most of his time building robots in the mausoleum (sweet hipster band name alert)..

..giving financial advice in Shajar’s room (inb4 what’s the difference between the mausoleum and Shajar’s room)..

..building evil snowmen alone in the middle of the night, like all mentally healthy middle aged men with 3 kids are wont to do..

..and getting the piss harassed out of him by the cat ghosts in the bathroom (sweet hipster band name alert #2). How is this like the fourth time this happens in the exact same spot, will you just stop autonomously cleaning the bathroom after midnight? It’s obviously where the cats hang out, give it the fuck up already.

-I’m actively TRYING TO DIE you absolute moron, what does a guy have to do to get killed around here?

Yea can’t say that I blame you but not happening, you can commit suicide by Ghost Alegra after the kids fuck off to college, ok? I promise.

-Oh like you promised me being heir was a route worth pursuing??

Um obviously you too need to go back and re-read your own life story, because I spent the entirety of our “““cherished””” time together telling you heirship is a shitty gig at generation 2. And then to top it off you went and married Wyatt to ensure maximum shittiness, so there you go, fucking enjoy. God I am so sick of both of you losers and we’re only 5 pics in. Let’s check in with your spawn, I’m sure they can’t possibly be more annoying than their parents-

-oh right, I forgot, this is the generation with 10/10/9 active points where the party never stops. Cyneswith are you somehow twerking to classical music?

-How else am I gonna attract all those hot senior citizens per my grey hair turn on and 20 lovers LTW?

Ok great yea I see how this is gonna go, you’re trying to entice people into voting you for heir based on how torturous playing this fucked up LTW is gonna be for me, well forget it, my readers are intellectuals and completely above such petty entertainment. (istg mofos, don’t even think about it, i already did Komei’s 5 pets career shit, i will burn this place to the ground if you saddle me with Cyneswith banging the elderly for 30 years)

-No need to worry your stupid little head, I will beat Cyneswith for HEIR just like I beat her HAIR up daily! HAHA!

Shajar no offense but you’re a fucking war crime of a sim, nearly everyone who’s ever met you hates you including your parents, and the fact that you’re the alternative here is really not helping my situation in any way. Also how the fuck are you gonna be heir when the only thing you seem to be attracted to is giving noogies, you’re like one week away from college and I still don’t even know if you’re str8 or gay or bi or w/e the fuck you are. You have Jojo’s personality combined with..

..yes exactly, DANIEL’S SOCIAL ABILITIES. I mean I was joking with the whole ‘Shajar’s the spawn of Satan’ thing, but this combo of traits was clearly drawn up in Hell’s boardroom.

ANYWAY. It’s a snowy Sunday morning, and anyone who has been a teen knows what that means:

Time to go clubbing! Man I remember being like 15, waking up on a freezing Sunday morning and my mom making me a cup of hot chocolate before I drove off to the club. Those were the days.

-Uh, Shaj, when did you learn how to drive?

-Don’t be stupid, Cyneswith, people don’t need to ‘learn’ how to drive.

-They absolutely do, actually.

-Well what can I tell you, the dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural.

-Here we are, safe and sound! Celebratory noogie!

-YOU RAN OVER 9 PEOPLE

-How many times to I have to explain this to you, Apartment Life townies are not people.

Can’t argue with that logic. Let’s just go in and find out what Shajar’s sexual orientation is once and for all so I can spend the rest of this update aggressively promoting Wulf’s candidacy.

Now I consider ‘a picture is worth a thousand words’ one of the dumbest sayings there is, but even I have to concede that this particular picture truly is worth a thousand words. Quick poll, what is more horrifying, Shajar’s literal Joker face or Cyneswith, whom I’ve never seen read a book ever, autonomously pulling one out in the middle of the dance floor, in what I can only assume is an attempt to attract old perverts with the schoolgirl routine?

And I know what some of you are thinking, you’re like ‘bro, you’re just reaching to make a bad joke bro, Cyneswith is just a sweet nice introvert and not like other girls, she doesn’t feel comfortable in the club’, well to that let me reply with another picture that is worth a thousand words:

Yea that’s right, on the first minute of our first time out WE RUN INTO THAT ONE ELDER TOWNIE THAT HAS WRINKLE MAKE UP ON. GODDAMMIT CYNESWITH

Do you guys remember how Jojo was obsessed with Stephen Tinker as a teen? Are you seeing the connection here?? Those kids have literally inherited the worst possible traits from both their parents turned up to 11, it’s fucking unreal.  

Right after I get over Wrinkle’s presence I turn around and what do I see, those 2, who have never had a non-noogie physical interaction, autonomously doing the family kiss thing. I didn’t even catch it on time because I was loling irl, we came out here so these assholes can find age-appropriate partners, and instead they’re kissing each other. Seems about right with this family, and clearly Striped Scarf’s dumb ass ships it.

-They look so much alike, it’s meant to be!

Yes, and they even share the same last name! Talk about written in the stars.

Thankfully Abhijeet is here to save us from incest by perving on Cyneswith. GTFO ABHIJEET. Anyone like ‘bro townies just autonomously come to greet your sims on community lots regardless of age, stop calling them perverts’, see you in about 5 pics down.  

I try to have Shajar chat up Striped Scarf and suffice it to say Shaj ~stole her heart~ and presumably put it on this stick to wave around.

NO. CYNESWITH NO. I’m seriously having déjà vu of all the times I was like ‘NO. JOJO NO’, jfc.

Shajar is unsurprisingly exhibiting no interest in socializing with anyone around her, instead she’s trying every activity this terribly lit place has to offer, and she looks demented while doing it:

I’m feeling a primal urge to photoshop Darth Vader’s melted helmet on the bowling ball here, someone please remind me to do it for the heir vote photoshoot.

-HA. SUCK IT DENISE JACQUET

That’s Denise Jacquet?! I can’t tell who anyone is for shit anymore. The default replacements are a scourge upon premade brands, I’m getting rid of them pronto. Speaking of scourges, where the hell is your sister?

-Who cares?

I wanna say ‘me’ but we both know that’s a lie.

Oh ok, THERE SHE IS.

-So you see Cyneswith, just because something is technically ‘illegal’, doesn’t mean it’s morally wrong-

Yea yea fascinating stuff, now get out of the hot tub or I will fucking neuter you, I don’t know if a eunuch mod already exists for medieval games but I will make one if it doesn’t.

Here, Cyneswith, drink some water, have a nice G-rated convo with your sister about violins and stop pissing me off. 

-First of all this is straight vodka.

Great.

-Secondly Shajar is talking about Mozart’s coprophilia.

-I sure am.

Amazing. Well, I guess it’s at times like these when you need to look inside your heart and truly ask yourself, what did you expect from Jojo’s children.

ABHIJEET ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME DID YOU EVEN HEAR ME TALK ABOUT CASTRATION

-Ha, I went home and put on my most elderly-looking formal wear!

-I hate to see you go but I love to watch you leave Ab <3

CYNESWITH SHUT UP. I can’t believe you people are actually making me miss Gunther’s teenage whoring, at least he kept it age appropriate.

-Is some random lady pressing her breasts against my head?

She most certainly is, Shajar, because it is now crystal clear that this bowling alley doubles as the site of annual perv townie convention and we walked right into it-

-and it’s also clear we have serious issues and are enjoying ourselves. Shaj I legit don’t know what to tell you, this is the first time you get along with someone right away and it just had to be the adult with the bad haircut and the flasher’s trench coat???

-You’re damn right it did.

Alright then, I’m officially going to nope out of this situation, safe in the knowledge you’re a noogiesexual and nothing will actually happen with this freak, so I’ll focus on Cyneswith instead who is much more of a loose canon. 

Here Cyn, talk to this guy, who I’m 90% sure is the same guy your father rejected in favor of stalking Stephen Tinker when he was your age.

-Ohhhh, he’s dreamy!

Omg really?? Halleluj-

-oh never mind, you were of course referring to adult ass Brandon Lillard. I do like that our townies have recurring roles each generation, we should make rejecting Blondie a rite of passage in this family. We should also officially gtfo because this is happening:

-Um, now that I’m looking at you in harsher lighting, it’s gonna be a no from me dawg. 

Oh, thank the fucking lord.

-Let’s celebrate the fact we didn’t get hopelessly obsessed with any adults here by doing the traditional Dance of Normality!

-We beat Dad’s genes, we beat Dad’s genes!

-We’re normal!

Yes, and we’re definitely showing it. Can we please leave now so I can make sure I’ve uninstalled Inteenminator and turn off free will? 

-Nop! Venue change!

-Got-out-of-the-car celebratory noogie!

-Made-it-to-the-door celebratory noogie!

Shajar you unironically have a noogie addiction, I’m not kidding in the slightest, you need to see a doctor.

Great, great, not another teen in sight and to top it off Denise followed us here to ensure maximum elder presence. I feel comfortable officially declaring this day a complete waste of time.

God, the vintage pink dress and the pink alcohol combo is some straight up current era Taylor Swift nonsense. That’s it, we’re outta here, back home where no one is lurking, waiting to strike at us-

-SOPHIE NOOOOOOOOOOOO💔💔💔💔💔

-The Lord is my shepherd.

NO HE ISN’T EVERYONE KNOWS YOU CAN’T HERD CATS PLEASE DON’T DIE

-Nop, I’m over it. Goodbye heathens, it’s been nice, hope you don’t find your paradise. 

UGH SOPHIE, my beloved Westboro lunatic, the last gangsta generation 1 cat we had.. I can’t believe you’re gone and all I’m left with is stupid Goro and D’vorah who can’t even beat up the fucking dog. This is truly painful.

Yes, pets, I agree, Kaylynn is completely to blame for Sophie dying of old age. The time has now come to decide on a cat heir-

-and since Goro ran away like a little bitch after Sophie’s death despite the fact he didn’t even like her, he’s automatically disqualified and will be going off to live on Melody and Daniel’s farm once returned to us. Congratulations to D’vorah I guess, on being the least terrible of two terrible options. 

On the topic of terrible heir options, Cyn has non-stop wants to go on dates and have her first kiss and all that crap, and since our Sunday morning clubbing was a bust we invite over the matchmaker.

-Hello there young Union, I see your house has been upgraded since I was last here.

Oh right we haven’t required your services since Daniel was a teen and we lived in a trailer, well we are flush with cash now!

-Hopefully your payment reflects that.

It will!! Just please give us someone good, I can’t deal with single teen Cyn for one more second.

-Oh my, what a beautiful BLANK PIECE OF PAPER.

WHAT!? NO THAT’S 5K IT’S JUST A SNOW GLITCH 

-What do I look like to you, a money thawing service?

Does such a service.. exist??

-It does not, so I have to go home and use a hairdryer on this!

Just come inside and we’ll give you non-frozen money!

-No, no, you’ll get what you paid for..

-Have a magical time!

...

.........

......................

Lakshmi this was so fucking evil that I almost want to age you down and see if you and Shajar hit it off. 

-As if, the whole neighborhood knows what you did to Komei.

Helped him achieve his insane 6-pets-career LTW?

-Turned him into a servant while your sim was lounging around all day!

Oh yea I did do that. But Wyatt was also a townie and he does literally nothing, Jojo is the servant now!

-Only because Wyatt is too fucking stupid to do things! Word has gotten out, no townie will ever marry in this family again unless they’re brain dead, so it’s Wyatts only for you from now on, sister!

Well this has been a complete fucking disaster. It was great seeing you again, Lakshmi, thanks for the dream date with the adult farting machine, 5k well-spent.

Pretty sure it was you bro, and yes, how about we don’t do that again.

Wyatt has brought over Amanda from work! (Aka Victoria’s only friend and subsequent lesbian lover, who is really pretty and is definitely getting married in at some point, preferably after the brown hair genes have been weakened so we can go back to being gingers.)  

-Wow Shajar, your grandmother, God rest her soul, mentioned you were her favorite and now I can see why! Loving the Kylo Ren look!

-Is someone being genuinely nice to me?! What is happening?

-Yes, please stop being nice to her, Amanda, we don’t want her getting used to it.

Jojo istg.

-Cyneswith dear, tell Amanda all about how much money your grandmother left you so she can stop being nice to Shajar. 

-Soooo much money, Miss Amanda!

-Ah, what a polite child I’ve single-handedly raised.

-Now, Cyneswith, you really need to get back on the dating scene so you have ample time to find the perfect spouse and continue our line, since you’re clearly the only one of my children that is remotely heir material. 

-Dad, Shajar and Wulf are right next to you.

-Oh they are? I’m wearing my special contact lenses that make those disappointments invisible to me, but even better, they need to hear this. Shajar is a noogiesexual and thus incapable of reproduction, and Wulf is not even a Union, I mean have you seen that kid? Wyatt reproduced by himself like the amoeba he is. Now, your grandmother-

-YOU MENTIONED ME 3 TIMES AND HERE I AM

OH FUCK VICTORIA, deleting the default replacements gave you base game hair!!!!

-That’s the part you’re scared by, not my Beetlejuicesque entrance?

There’s literally nothing scarier than your ghost sporting this haircut for all eternity, I’m re-downloading that default immediately. 

-Oh mom, so good to see you! Let me just hug my beloved child, Shijer-

-Shajar, dad.

-SHAJAR, let me hug Shajar, like I do all the time. 

-I’m glad to see you’re not picking favorites among your children like I did, the way I treated David-

-Daniel, mom.

-DANIEL, is the one thing I’ve truly been regretting in the afterlife. That and not skinning Marisa Bendett alive when I had the chance. 

-Well, as you can see by Shajar’s totally normal and not at all shocked reaction to my hug, I am a wonderful, fair, and emotionally available father. 

(Bruh this freaked me out so much when it happened, I mean I KNOW it’s an animation glitch but I was convinced my sims had become sentient for a good while after)

-Is your grandmother’s ghost still on the premises?

-Yup. 

-When will this nightmare end, paying attention to you is the worst. 

-Ok she’s gone.

-FINALLY. Now it’s back to the crypt for you, and don’t you dare go complain to her urn!

-Ah, Stephen, Stephen, my life is crap and I can’t even🎵

And with the knowledge you have composed a theme song for Stephen Tinker, part 1 of the Union comeback update is concluded. Will Shajar’s sexual orientation reveal itself? Will Cyneswith find true love? Will Jojo become a werewolf? Will Wulf continue to be the only dignified member of this family? Will D’vorah have kittens? Will Wyatt do literally anything worth mentioning? Tune in for parts 2 & 3 to find out, unfollow button on the upper right corner for those who need it. 

[popculturebuffet]

The Loud House review 4x29: Brave the Last Dance

In a months late review of a show I watch only on occcasion that i’m doing for some reason: Clyde gets the help of the rest of the Clincoln true to find out if his crush likes him or not: Hyjinks and my smouldring hatred of rusty insues. 

With Ducktales only arriving once a week, me missing reviewing and having a lot of time on my hands i’ve decided to branch out a bit.. maybe not a ton, but ocasionally review other animated shows and seasons. If you have any suggetions or any paticular episode you’d like me to look into, let me know. 

For now I decided to take a look at a show I mostly watch whenever the mood strikes; The Loud House. I do enjoy the series, but it’s a casual love... it also dosen’t help that I can’t go into the tags without finding reams of incest but I digress. I do still like the show and despite it’s ocasoinal terrible episodes and even worse creator, it’s still a solid series and deserves it’s spot as nick’s crown jewel.. I do wish nick would stop abusing everything ELSE in it’s lineup, but that’s a whole other story. The point is I like the show, but i’m not a super fan like I am for say Ducktales or Steven Universe where if there’s something new, i’ll go out and grabs it immediately. But I do like it.  And I do regret not knowing this episode existed for two months because 1) This is a holiday episode and I like to watch those around their holiday and 2) Because dance episodes are my shit. More often than not if i’ts a dance episode of a show, i’ts usually pretty good. Community, Big City Greens, Gravity Falls, She Ra, OK KO, Parks and Recreation.. I really COULD go on indefntiely, but I won’t.  Dance episodes usually bring out the best in a creative team, have adorable romance moments, or huge dramatic attacks and everything in between that just makes them awesome to me. So naturally I watched this as soon as possible and my thoughts.. well as with anything they take some context.    You see this episode follows a character who has kind of a .. problematic history to say the least and thus has kinda gone up and down in my opinon. Early on, as most of you probably recall, the series was more focused on LIncoln, the middle child and only boy in the the titular loud house among 10 sisters. And given it focused mostly on lincoln and his shenanigans and schemes to deal with living iwth 10 other siblings. Now the show has evolved since then and for the better in my honest opinon: now all 11 siblings share the spotlight and whose in an episode depends on whose needed, and thus each of the siblings has their own supporting casts of varying depths and episodes, sometimes with NONE of the other family members playing a signifgiant role. But since the show was originally Lincoln centritc, it also picked up an extra main character outside of the 11 loud kids and their parents: Clyde. Clyde is Lincoln’s best buddy, a glasses wearing awkward kid whose dad’s sometimes smother him but are still loving kind guys, and who often goes over to Lincoln’s to share in the feeling of having siblings outside of his surrogate brother Lincoln obviously. However early on Clyde, like most of the cast in the earlier days, had about three character traits: being an only child, being a dork and having a near pyschotic crush on LIncoln’s oldest sister Lori which gave him crippling nose bleeds.  This would’ve been fine, if a touch annoying, had it just been him fainting and nosebleeding.. but instead, it also causes Clyde to be kind of a dick. He perused her constantly despite her rejecting him for a number of obvious reasons, you know him being a decade younger, her being not intrested, him being more like a second kid brother to her, and of course the fact she has a boyfriend, Bobby. Bobby is the nicest guy around, was a great supporting character, and is probably the reason i’ll get around to watching the casagrandes on occasion. Clyde however treats him like garbage, tried to break them up, and in general was a dick to a guy whose only crime is being in a loving relationship with someone Clyde wants to be with but obviously can’t have. It was annoying with the only time it was tolerable was that episode where Bobby was mistaken for cheating and clyde spent an entire episode preparing to beat bobby up if it was accurate, then upon trying (It wasn’t it was just shenanigans), failed spectacuarlly. Bobby is nothing but nice to him by the way.  So yeah it was hard to root for Clyde for a while but eventually it stopped.. not because they had an episode of Clyde TRYING to get over it, they did it just didn’t resolve it, but it was just dropped.. likely because the writers realized it just wasn’t that funny and with bobby put on a bus to the spinoff, they had no real jokes for it and no one really liked the passing out gag. The fact that series creator Chris Savino got fired for sexually harassment is not lost on me and only makes the gag worse.  But thankfully the character did bounce back and by season 3, even before savino was thankfully fired, they put the joke to bed with Bobby’s exit, and it is thankfully buried deeper than the bunker where htey keep walt disney’s cryogneically perserved body... what you thought he just kept the head? Why woudl they? Disney was rich and belived in the future. He probably wanted his body merged with some sort of mechanical man. But with that gone Clyde thankfully became what he was in his better episodes: an adorable dork, with two loving fathers. Though now he’s not the only kid on the block with two gay dads.. he and Violet should get matching friendship t-shirts reading “Gay dad club”... and i’ll probably draw that at some point but I digress i’m several paragraphs in and I haven’t even gotten to the episode, and I STILL have one last bit of explostion for context that most of you may not need.  That last bit is that LIncoln’s episodes evolved a bit around season 3: instead of JUST being him and Clyde, though that can still happen, Lincoln soon got a circle of buddies, each of whom plays a role in the episode, for reasons i’ll get to in a bit, and part of my reason for reviewing it is to touch on my thoughts about them and my weird love of these episodes. So a breif overview since some of you may not know who they are.  Lincoln himself: The former lead and now one of 10, and a great character I enjoy following a lot even if I miss his Zack Morris-esque fourth wall breaks, minus the smug... no one can out smug or out sexually harass Zack Morris.  Liam: A country boy and the only one of the intial five besides Clincoln I actually like. He’s a kind hearted well meaning country boy and is always kind and friendly, and reminds me a lot of stinky peterson but with a tone down accent.  Zach:... I forget he exists, i’m not even sure this is his actual name. He’s just.. there for some reason and i’m not exactly sure why he’s been kept around now that Stella, who i’ll get to next, has been introduced. But he has goggles and wild hair and that’s.. it. Any of his lines could be said by the others without muchc hange.  Stella: My faviorite out of the group, a frieindly girl who was insitally introduced as Lincoln’s third love intrest.. before pivoting to have her not really WANT to be with any of the guys in an episode that’s really good and instead joining the group. She has more personality and energy than most of them, and thus I do tend to seek out an ep if she’s in it. I do also kinda lowkey ship her with lincoln, but only al ittle. her episodde was about hwo every girl who pays attention to you isn’t into you after all and it’s a lesson kids need. I wish I had it when I was that age honestly. Anyways... finally we have the bane of my existance.  Rusty: I hate this kid. I can’t stand his goofy face, and I love goofy goof so goofy faces are not a problem, obnovious wannabe ladies man smugness, or his basicaly being the useless asshole of the group. LIke Zach, I don’t get why he hasn’t been written out. Hell Zach I at least get as the generic guy they can slott in. Rusty is just terrible. it’s telling that his LITTLE BROTHER, who showed up in one episode as a love intrest for Lucy, is far more popular.. mostly because Rocky’s actually likeable and isn’t a dipstick. I just hate this kid and want this character written off already. He’s the weak link in the group and is SOMEHOW more obnoxious than Clyde during any episode bobby and him were in the same room. And tha’ts an acomplishment! Gah. I could rant about this little shit all day, but i’d prefer to move on.  The episode has a pretty basic setup: Clyde is on the dance comitte, and is a good chef which .. tracks. I do think h’es cooked before and his love of Dessert Storm, a in-series cooking show that the Loud’s love too, has been documented in one or two episodes and cooking does fit his personality: he’s a detail orinted kid, he has parents who have lots of money to spend and have been established to like coooking fancy themsevles, it makes sense he’d pick it up. But it’s the Valentine’s Dance and Clyde has a crush on Emma, one of the girls on the comittee. His friends pick up on this and stellas has an adorable “awww” type grin while the boys all have smug shit eating grins but are all willing to help. It’s part of why I like these eps: the 5 really seem to have a nice rapport and be genuine friends.. friends who all fought over a girl once, except Stella who was said girl, but friends nonetheless, who eventually put said friendship over that. Even if one of them’s a block of wood and the other the bane of my existance, you still get the sense their valued.  It’s from there the episode Segues into the standard loud house formula, which is one of the resaons I do only watch the show ocasionally: while the episodes can varry wildly, some just fall into a formula of “character or characters do various things in a row until they realize they were wrong or something”. Now the show HAS had good episodes out of this formula, L is for Love and Racing Hearts, and yes i’m a saluna shipper but the eps are good beyond that, but sometimes it can feel like padding. This is one of those times. Each of the squad tries something to help Clyde find out if Emma likes him or not, he’s too nervous to take it as a sign he should go for it, rinse and repeat 3 more times before the plot finally moves on. This is also why I went into detail on the Clinclon Crew: each one, except Zach because the boy is made of paper mache remember, gets a chance to try helping him out.  Rusty: As if you needed proof I wasn’t overreacting, Rusty SPIES ON EMMA WITH BINOCULARS for the plan.. he did not need them, and the joke dosen’t land like it should because Rusty sucks. And his plan is to drench Clyde with cologne and if she comments on it, she likes him. I do however like the joke about how clyde thinks Rusty’s cousin that gave him the plan, proving Dumbass is a genetic trait, had a girlfriend at a camp who probably dosen’t exist.  Liam: Liam’s plan is a bit funnier... not because of the plan which like the previous one not really that great but hey their 11 or 12 i’ll give all of them but rusty some slack, because he sucks. But the Clincoln Crew which i’m calling them now so there, head to the movies and Liam says ,d ue to a similar thing happening with his chickens, if a girl sits next to you, they like you back. It’s not entirelys ound but the chicken thing got a small chuckle out of me and LIam does have some odd charisma.  Lincoln: And Zach but i’m not convinced they didn’t just swap in a manquin with a tape recorder jammed inside for him for this or any scene. Lincoln uses one of lori’s magazines with some sounder, if flimsy but beliviebly for kids, logic: ask her for a pen: if it’s a regular one they have no intrest, it’s it’s fancy she likes you. like the other two it happens.. but in a resonable bit of writing like the last two Clyde isn’t sure due to a combinaton of insecurity and these plans being as flimsy as the paper they made Zach out of .  Stella: Whose grandma can read tea leaves and actually predicted her moving to royal woods, because stella is great. Stella is also damn good at it as she does predict Clyde at the dance, in a chef’s hat for reasons that i’ll get to in a moment. dancing with a girl. Tha’s lal he needs and this bit finally ends. As I said it’s the tedium. While what happens NEXT is intresting enough, you really didn’t need all of those or have enough jokes and were clearly padding guys, come on.  So Clyde, and crew, stages an elaborate frencha nd boat related danceposal.. that fails. As you probably figured. Emma is flattered, but shoots Clyde down gently. Clyde reacts as you’d expect: by fleeing the scnee as fast as possible, quitting the dance comitte off screen, and planning never to return, which while overracting, DOES feel realistic.  Clyde goes home for some mopey solo time and becomes a tad insufferable, ignoring his friend’’s texts and getting upset as his dad for watching the movie that clearly inpsiried his dance invite plan, depsite it being their valentine’s day he’s interrupting. It woudl’ve played better if he still got upset but iddn’t you know, run in front of their tv and call them out on something they coudln’t of known as he didn’t give them details.  Thankfully the mild annoyance is b roken when, after ignoring his friends texts, which granted for Rusty and Liam is probably normal as liam probably talks about drywall and Rusty uses the word dawg and unlike Lincoln dosen’t seem genuinely worried after Clyde, you know, got rejected in front of a large crowd.  He’s broken out of his mopey solo time by a call: the person he passed cake duty off to screwed up, and after some urging from Cheryl, the principal’s secretary who Clyde knows personally from past episodes and is head of the dance comitte and an utter delight this episode, Clyde does what any normal kid would do: dawn a flimsy disguise and sneak in there. We also get a cameo from Girl Jordan who hasn’t shown up in forever so that’s nice.  Clyde fixes the cake, and Cheryl compares his mustache to a dead caterpillar which was gold, and tries to sneak out only for Chole, another girl, to notice him and stop him. You can probably tell where this is going: She , rather than mock him finds what he did romantic, she also likes dessert storm, he asks her to dance, puts his chef hat back on because time loop,a nd the two dance and even have an adorable bit where they throw their hats to each other. Also Rusty is dressed like cupid and my eyes boil out of my head as the episode ends.  Overall it’s not a bad ep. Had a suprising amount to say about it, but overall it’s a decent, cute ep for valentine’s day with a nice amount of friendship and some nice character stuff for Clyde and plenty of gay dad’s and Cheryl. Overall not a bad way to spend 11 minutes in this ongoing apocalypse. Coming Soon: I feel like quacking so I think Iw ill.. take a look at an episode of quack pack that’s donsy related.  Until next time courage. 

[nbapprentice]

[this is a compilation of information on the artist Saffron, previously known as Asif. Due to the size of the document we can’t easily change name and pronouns through the file and images.]

Asif is not the kind of person he has been leading everyone to believe.

this post has honestly been a long time coming, and we have been sitting on it for quite some time while collecting sources, and trying to figure out how best to approach it. while we did that, more and more information about the kind of person asif is has been brought to us. and there’s a lot. what started as an initial worry about asif’s hypocrisy, guilt tripping, and general blasé attitude towards being okay with pedophilia and incest apologists, among other things, led us to learn more and more as time went on.

we started this post before Asif admitted that he is fully and completely endorsing The Arcana and making fanart of it, pretending that this isn’t basically free advertising and support of it, and consuming fetishistic and racist content by playing it. this is also not shocking to learn, as he has already openly apologised to dana rune and implied that incest fetishism is ‘an opinion’.

we do not take any joy in what we have learned. it has been disappointing and outright horrifying to learn that someone we trusted and supported, and whose game we played, enjoyed, and defended, turned out to be like this. we are also not the only people aware of what he has been doing, but we are the only ones Asif has not managed to intimidate into silence. if we had not, none of the people mentioned in this post would have been able to say anything, and many others who we have spoken to and shared information about asif would have also been kept quiet.

asif’s main claims are:

only white people are against him, particularly because he is muslim

he’s never exploited anyone

blair is the one who wrote all the racist lore in Gehennam

there’s an age power dynamic at play in criticism about him

he has never exposed minors to nsfw

we have proof of all these being lies and manipulations, starting with the fact that multiple poc (including those who are muslim) have been involved in the creation of this post, of which include:

Mod N/Neo (mixed romani)

Rosie/thornyflesh @ tumblr (mixed race puerto rican)

Jewel/beserkerjewel/spellboundotome @ tumblr (black, muslim)

Akira/mexicanarthur @ tumblr (black, mexican, asian)

Maria/nataliesewell @ tumblr (pakistani canadian, muslim)

preface: any names shown, and any posts shown, are used with permission. names that are blurred out are this way on request, for the person’s safety. while the bulk of the writing of this has been done by mod n and mod nba, it has been contributed to by multiple others, as shown above.

asif @souratgar has exploited people and not paid for around $1k worth of work, one of whom was 17 at the time (while he himself was 20 years old). This is money they could’ve used for rent or other necessities, such as treatment for Blair’s depression.

this post will also touch upon his mistreatment of his friends during the making of Gehennam and another briefly planned visual novel, and his current lying and extremely flippant attitude regarding NSFW in his game’s blog when he knows he has minors following him, as well as apparent ableism, fat phobia, racism and xenophobia.

because of how screenshots would stretch the post, we have compiled all receipts and transcripts in ❗THIS DOCUMENT ❗. We strongly recommend going through its entirety, but for clarity’s sake we have also included summaries of the main points in this post. in order to more easily navigate the doc, there are some searchable tag terms related to the main points made in this initial post. please use the search function (ctrl+f) to search for the appropriate tag you wish to find.

on his refusal to pay a minor for their work, and his foul treatment of them

search tag: (#.n.a) Asif invited Noah, 17 years old at the time, to participate on a previous project of his, another VN. Noah accepted on the condition that he be paid back once the game was out in full and being sold. Noah then produced about $500 worth of art before Asif disbanded without paying him a penny, and has calculated that by the end of the project the worth of what he could’ve produced would’ve been around the $2k mark.

Through this process, Asif was extremely picky, demanding Noah re-draw and re-paint sprites several times.

search tag: (#.n.b) Asif belittled Noah because of his age, claimed Noah’s art made him “feel bad” about his own, and acted like Noah weighing in on a group effort was unreasonable.

Asif also claimed he “didn’t consider himself a boss” despite the fact that he was the creative head of the project, and was the one who kicked Noah out and dissolved the group on a whim.

on his taking $1000 dollars from Blair and mistreating them during the making of Gehennam

search tag: (#.b.a) For the making of Gehennam, Blair gave Asif $1000 dollars. Asif gave no details as to how this money was spent, nor did he ever give any of it back.

Blair never felt comfortable in the group, fearing that speaking out would get him shut down or even kicked out of the project.

search tag: (#.b.b) Asif would routinely humiliate Blair in the public chat over minuscule mistakes, or things that wouldn’t even qualify as such (such as Blair telling a friend, in private, the project might be picking up a new writer).

Asif would express jealousy over Blair receiving any praise for his work on Gehennam, including praise from his own boyfriend.

search tag: (#.b.c) Asif’s abuse hurt Blair’s mental health so badly it pushed him back to drug use, and to a dangerously suicidal state of mind.

search tag: (#.l.a) Once Gehennam disbanded, Asif lied and claimed he was still friends with all except one person from the Gehennam group.

search tag: (#.l.b) Later on, Asif claimed Blair was the one responsible for all the racist lore (while claiming the rest of the lore was all his doing). More on that below.

From Blair: Image link; google doc transcript

on naz, who participated on gehennam, and francey, who participated in both Gehennam and the unnamed project Noah worked on

search tag: (#.f.n) two people who worked on gehennam, and one of whom later worked the other vn, naz and francey respectively, can also be considered at the very least complicit in asif's behavior.

naz was present during the development of gehennam and witness to how asif treated blair

francey was a part of the team later on, and he was present for the second vn and saw how asif treated noah, a minor.

neither of them have called out asif for any of this (as far as we are aware), and had not attempted to put a stop to it. francey is also shown a few times in this post, and is one of asif's more staunch supporters/defenders.

we have not been contacted by or been able to contact any others involved in either vn, although from what we can gather, only francey and naz are (openly) associating with and supporting asif still. whether or not others involved were also complicit, or perhaps victims, is unknown.

on asif’s xenophobia and anti-black racism

search tag: (#.r.a) Blair reports Asif would routinely use xenophobic slurs in the main chat and in his (now deleted) Ifritah roleplay blog

He would speak derisively of Arabic people, and has used the k slur for Jewish people.

search tag: (#.r.b) This is also reflected in his lore of the lotogh, who are based on Arab and Romani people. The original lore includes speaking of lotogh as if they were animals (only some would “show signs of intelligence”), who would resort to survival cannibalism to the point of eating their own children, and who would have an “alpha” according to the myths of how wolf packs work. Lotogh are also said to become slavers, with an emphasis on selling slaves into sex work.

search tag: (#.l.b) Asif claims this racist lore was written by Blair, but in the google docs where they were both working, Asif wrote the lotogh lore at the same time as Blair was typing lore for Vali.

search tags: (#.a.b) (#.a.c)He repeatedly has implied or said that mod n is white, and creates the impression that the only people against him are white

search tag: (#.r.c) He jokes about being black and having “a black card” because he has a black friend who humours this. Along this line, he makes jokes about “black on black crime.”

He has repeatedly reblogged posts with the n word in them.

He misuses AAVE.

on asif’s fatphobia

search tag: (#.v)  Asif boasted Gehennam as inclusive and containing many body types, but he was remarkably incapable of drawing Vali, Blair’s character, to his actual size, to the point that Noah was not even aware the character was fat when making fanart.

Every character of Asif’s is skinny. Vali, Blair’s character, is the only character in Gehennam who was not stick-thin.

on asif’s disregard of the boundaries and safety of his minor followers

search tag: (#.a.a) Asif has repeatedly posted, and is still posting, sexual content on his main and the official 1001 Days blogs. He often does not tag these posts, but even if they were tagged it is already wrong to put this content where minors can get to it.

He often jokes about Sinbad in sexual ways, including talking about nipple and genital piercings he may have, or how he personally wants to get “spitroasted” by Sinbad and Alibaba.

He has also said he would consider putting 18+ optional content in the game, as if it being optional would keep it away from minors.

When questioned about this he straight up claimed it was untrue and laughed it off, and says his blogs and game are minor-friendly.

He posts NSFW drawings without tagging them.

(#end) some final words

we're doing all of this not to tear down someone who's producing diverse content, but because we believe that content creators in our community need to be held to the same standards as anyone else, and their fans deserve accountability and to be made aware of the actions of the person/people they are supporting.

we would also like to emphasise that all of us supported gehennam at the beginning (we all met in a Gehennam fan discord server, in fact), nor is asif the first content creator that we have called out (The Arcana game and WTNC teams among others).

post the exposure of the arcana game devs, we have tried to make people aware of problems with VN devs before they get too attached to the VN and the creators, or at least inform them after the fact, and encourage them away from it. we do this as it's too easy to form parasocial relationships with a 1k+ follower blog and believe that 100% of what they do is beyond reproach, because we are all so desperate for content that represents us, and that it feels good to be acknowledged and treated with familiarity by our favourite content creators.

the reason for this entire post being put together is to give those hurt by asif at the very least, some closure, and to expose his behavior and lies, so that those who are unaware and supporting him can learn the truth. it has been made with the hope that he will not be able to hurt others in this way, and that those reading it will also now be able to see the signs of a boss who is manipulative and exploitative, and also the signs of a person who utilises their fame and online persona to create a false narrative about themself, and uses it to avoid accountability.

[whitecrossgirl]

Off Limits

AN: So I wanted to put a bit of a spin on the best friend’s sibling AU where instead of Tyrion and Brienne being friends first, she’s friends with Cersei first; Cersei may seem OOC but I’m also trying to do a modern, non-incest, mentally stable version of her. I hope you like it.

Best Friend’s Sibling AU

On the surface, they seemed like two of the least likely people to get along, never mind become friends. They were total and complete opposites; Cersei was loud, confident and more focused on partying and clubbing rather than her university studies. Brienne was quiet, shy and studious, more interested in pre-reading for the next lecture than pre-drinking for a night out. It seemed like the universe’s cruel idea of a joke; sticking them as the only two girls in a student halls flat with four boys. Outnumbered by two to one; they realised that they had to stick together.

As time passed, the two young women managed to get along. They banded together to make sure the boys; Jon, Tormund, Loras and Podrick did their share of the cleaning, taking out trash and dishes. Brienne helped to look after Cersei on the nights she got too drunk to take herself home. Cersei’s tough no-bullshit attitude meant that the bullying Brienne had had to deal with was non-existent. They bonded over hangovers, assignment stress and lazy days watching movies. Both of them had struggled to make friends in the past and still carried pain over losing their mothers at a young age; so having a friend who felt like a true friend was a comfort to them both.

Until Cersei’s brother Jaime came to their university in Kings Landing from his in Riverrun to celebrate their birthday together. After all, there was one cardinal rule between friendship and siblings.

A friend’s sibling was off limits.

Rules were also made to be broken.

“I need you to promise me something,” Cersei said as she curled Brienne’s hair in front of the mirror. They were getting ready to go out that night as part of Cersei’s birthday and Brienne was trying to mix her a drink without moving too much; a talent she had mastered after nearly two months of university.

“Make sure you don’t go home with Euron again?” Brienne suggested with a smile as she set the vodka and lemonade on the dresser. Cersei smirked as she took a drink. Euron had just been her Fresher’s Week fling who still thought he stood a chance with her. It wasn’t her fault that he caught feelings.

“It’s not that, it’s about Jaime.” Cersei said and Brienne shot her a puzzled expression in the mirror.

“What about him?” Brienne asked. She had spoken to Jaime before, when he would FaceTime Cersei but she had only met him for the first time today. He seemed to be likeable enough; fairly similar to Cersei; confident, loud and clearly eager to hit the nightclubs in the Capital.

“Promise me that you won’t flirt with him or get off with him.” Cersei said as she sprayed Brienne with hairspray. “I know that sounds like a weird thing to say but this always used to happen. Girls would claim to be my friend or want to hang out or invite me out; just to try and get close to him. I’m not saying to not speak to him; just, don’t shag him.”

“I wasn’t planning to,” Brienne retorted. She knew that it was one of the sore spots Cersei tried to hide, especially with the bitchy, ice-queen persona she adapted most of the time; the part of her that was insecure, insecure about her looks, her studies, her life; the insecurities predominantly caused from being raised by Tywin Lannister (who by the sounds of it demanded perfection and nothing less from his children.) “I don’t even think he’s my type anyway.”

“The two of you would definitely be good friends; he’s a History nerd like you, plus he listens to Oathkeeper and watches that dumb Clash of Crowns show that you marathon on days off.” Cersei said as she put the curling wand away and picked up her makeup kit.

“Oh no you don’t, I said you could do my hair. Not the make up.” Brienne said; that was where she drew the line. The last time Cersei tried to do her make up, Brienne swore she looked like a drag queen. Cersei pouted before taking another drink and turning back to the mirror.

Brienne’s promise to stay away from Jaime lasted all of five hours. In that time, they had gone to one of their favourite clubs in the city; one that was both close enough to walk to and was cheap enough for students. The music had been incredible and the three of them had spent the night drinking, laughing and messing about on the dancefloor. By the time it was closing time and the DJ was playing his third final song; Brienne saw Cersei walking out of the door, hand in hand with a Dornish guy Brienne vaguely recognised from the fifth floor of the student halls; leaving her alone with Jaime.

“Where’s she gone?” Jaime yelled in between chants for one more song and bouncers trying to shepherd the crowd out.

“She’s with some lad!” Brienne called back as they squeezed through the crowd onto the street. “He lives in halls too, she’ll be fine.”

After getting some food from a quickly filling chip shop and spending fifteen minutes looking for a taxi; Jaime and Brienne decided to walk back to the halls together. As they walked, the cold air seemed to begin to help sober them up slightly, although Brienne did have to stop Jaime from stumbling into a hedge at least twice before they got back to the student halls. As they walked inside, the unmistakable sounds from Cersei’s room made Jaime groan in frustration and cover his ears.

“Urgh, I did not need to hear that.” Jaime complained before remembering something obvious. “Shit; I was meant to sleep in there tonight.”

“Look, my room’s furthest away from her bedroom. Hers is next to the kitchen and that wall is as thin as paper. You can crash in there if you want.” Brienne offered and Jaime nodded; his hands still clasped over his heads; although it did little to block out the sounds he was hearing.

There were just some things that siblings shouldn’t hear.

“Thanks,” Jaime said as he walked into Brienne’s room and sat at her desk chair. Brienne pulled a bundle from the top of her wardrobe and handed it to him. “What’s this?”

“A sleeping bag,” Brienne said and pointed to the door next to the wardrobe. “There’s a bathroom in there if you need it.”

“Thank you,” Jaime said, quickly darting in and using it. Afterward, he unfurled the sleeping bag and tried to find a comfortable piece of floor. As he did, Jaime glanced around and spotted one of the posters on her wall. “No way, you listen to Oathkeeper too?”

“Yeah, I saw them in concert during the summer. It was amazing.” Brienne said from the bathroom.

“No way, I wanted to go but no one would go with me.” Jaime said. “Their song Sapphire Eyes, is like my favourite song.”

“Me too, that and Dreamed of You.” Brienne said as she emerged from the bathroom and Jaime glanced at her in her shortie pyjamas and felt his brain short circuit for a moment. He knew that she was tall but those legs. Finally, his brain re-engaged itself and began to work again.

“Same,” Jaime said, trying not to stare as Brienne lay on her bed and propped herself up by her elbow. “Thanks for letting me stay in here; I could have crashed in the kitchen.”

“Its fine. Like I said, the kitchen wall is stupidly thin and the chairs in there are more uncomfortable than the floor.” Brienne said as she reached behind her and tossed Jaime a pillow. “I take it, this wasn’t how you expected your birthday would end.”

“Crashing on a stranger’s floor? No, not really. No offence.” Jaime said, still trying to not focus on the thin strap that was slipping slightly off of her shoulder. Bad thoughts. Brienne was a kind person, his sister’s best friend and he had made a promise.

“None taken.” Brienne said as they heard a door slamming and loud jeering and comments being made. “Hang on a second.”

Jaime watched as she slid off her bed and walked to the door. He could assume by the noises that the rest of her flatmates were home and clearly more drunk than any of them. However, it seemed that all it took was a few short, sharp words from Brienne and a series of slamming doors had sent them all to their beds. As Brienne shut and locked the door, Jaime smiled at her.

“So you do run this flat?” Jaime teased and Brienne smiled slightly.

“Someone has to.” Brienne replied. “Then again, it’s probably only because I’m the sober one.”

“Me too; I’m not drunk anymore and I’m not even tired anymore.” Jaime said as Brienne switched on some fairy lights and turned off the main light; giving the room a soft glow.

“Are you comfortable down there?” Brienne asked and Jaime smiled.

“I’m fine. Just not tired.” Jaime replied as Brienne reached for her laptop. “What are you doing?”

“If I can’t sleep, I usually put on a movie or Clash of Crowns; it helps me sleep.” Brienne explained as Jaime sat up.

“You watch Clash of Crowns too? Who’s your favourite character?” Jaime asked quickly. “Your answer will decide my judgement of you.”

“Thanks,” Brienne laughed. “It’s either Gwendella or Ser Nikolas and I seriously ship it; so if you prefer Nikolas and Cerena; you can sleep in the hall.”

“Alright this is getting weird. Same taste in music, same favourite TV show, same favourite characters in that show. Are you sure that you’re not actually my twin?” Jaime quipped as Brienne rolled her eyes.

“I’m sure. Do you have an episode preference?” Brienne asked and Jaime shook his head. Reckless confidence made Jaime get out of the sleeping bag and sit up on her bed, draping a blanket around his shoulders as she started the most recent episode she had been up to. As they watched the show, both of them were half paying attention to it; half trying to ignore how they felt for the person sitting on the bed beside them. They had so much in common and had had such a fun night out. It felt like now, they were just trying to put off the inevitable. Both of them could feel the attraction and tension between them but neither was brave enough to do anything about it.

“I forgot that he gives her the sword in this episode,” Jaime said quietly. He had been a firm shipper of the two of them from the start. It was obvious to him that the two characters were either in love or going to fall in love. Even if the majority of the fandom disagreed and claimed that Ser Nikolas was actually in love with Lady Cerena; which was total rubbish.

“They’re so in love. Hopefully in the next season they do something about it.” Brienne added. “I’ve been calling it since the bathtub scene.”

“Call me Nikolas,” Jaime quoted, slumping dramatically over Brienne’s lap; mimicking the end to the famous scene, where a poisoned Ser Nikolas collapses in Gwendella’s arms. Jaime made the mistake of looking up into Brienne’s eyes and swallowed quickly, sitting up straight again. “Sorry,”

“Don’t be,” Brienne replied quietly. The tension slipped again between them. They’d reached the inevitable. “I made a promise.”

“So did I, but to be honest; I didn’t know that we would have so much in common or that I’d like you so much. Because I do like you, a lot. And I know we made a promise but I know how I feel and I can feel this between us and,” Jaime was cut off by Brienne’s hand resting over his.

“I know, I really like you too.” Brienne admitted honestly. She’d never felt this way about anyone before and if she was honest, the fact that Jaime was off limits did add to his appeal. As she was certain she did for him.

“She’ll kill us, won’t she,” Jaime said finally, with an air of someone having accepted his fate.

“Most likely,”

“It would be worth it,”

“Maybe,”

“Let’s find out.” Jaime decided as he kissed her. Brienne hesitated before kissing him back. Brienne broke the kiss and smiled at him, feeling a sudden rush of confidence and recklessness.

“Since we’re already dead, we may as well earn that sentence.” Brienne suggested. Jaime laughed and kissed her again. Harder. Deeper.

If this was how he was to die; in the arms and bed of Brienne Tarth; well, then he would die a happy man.

Cersei smiled proudly at herself as she shut the front door behind the Dornish guy she had brought home. Not a bad conquest, if she said so herself. As she walked into the kitchen, her smile faltered at the sight of the messy kitchen. She had assumed that Jaime would have crashed in the kitchen last night. Cersei turned and walked down the hall to Brienne’s bedroom, deciding to ask her if she had seen Jaime and to have one of their post-night out sharing sessions.

“Have you seen Jai-“ Cersei began but trailed off at the sight of Brienne, wrapped in her dressing gown. However the dressing gown didn’t cover the several love bites that covered her neck and collarbone. Jaime was nowhere to be found in the flat and Brienne was covered in hickeys that she didn’t have the night before. “Are you fucking kidding me?!”

“Would it help if we said that we were sorry?” Brienne asked as Jaime walked up behind her, shirtless and wrapped his arms around her waist. Cersei looked at the two of them and shook her head with a wry laugh.

“You know what, I’m too hungover for this shit. I’m going back to bed. Do what you like but keep the noise down.” Cersei said finally.

“Why? You didn’t.” Jaime teased as Brienne playfully slapped his arm and Cersei flashed him a dangerous look before flipping him the bird and heading back to her room.

Normally, she would have gone mad at the fact her brother and best friend had broken the promise they had made her but this seemed different. Maybe it was the remnants of Sambuca and tequila she could still feel coursing in her veins but she actually thought there seemed to be more between the two of them than a one night stand. There was something in the way the two of them looked at one another, held onto each other, that seemed different. Clearly what had happened was more than just sex. Maybe it was the beginning of something special.

But Jaime was still going to pay for that last comment.

[goodwriterwithbadhabits]

Double Dated

Summary: Woozi’s invited his little sister to meet his soulmate, but not everything is going to plan.

Warnings: None? Its kinda short tho.

Master List

~~

“Are you kidding me?” You gasped into the mirror. Today of all days, you had to end up with a massive bruise across your jaw. You knew it wasn't yours, not technically, which meant your soulmate had probably gotten punched in the face or something. Normally, you wouldn't mind too much, maybe be a little concerned for your soulmate but generally go about your day normally, but today, today you were supposed to be meeting your older brother's soulmate. “Bloody hell, what did you do?” You wondered aloud, gently caressing the bruise.

Unsure what to do, you did what any other person would have done. You called your brother.

“What do you want, Y/n?” He greeted.

“Jihoon oppa, we have a problem.” You spoke rapidly into the phone.

“Is this another attempt to avoid meeting Soonyoung? He's starting to think you don't want to meet him.” He responded with a sigh.

“No its not that.” You admitted, “Please come over, it would just be easier to show you.”

“Alright, I'll be there in 10.”

“Thank you.” He hung up, leaving you to stare at your reflection again. What on earth could have happened to cause a bruise at 9:30 in the morning? Before getting into the shower you had been fine but when you came out and went to do your makeup, there was a dark purple bruise adorning the left side of your jaw.

The 10 minutes until Jihoon arrived seemed to take forever, as you paced a hole in your carpet.

He barely had a chance to knock on your door when you bolted over and opened it, pulling him inside.

“What has you so- oh my god.” His eyes widened when he saw the bruise, “What happened? Did someone punch you?” He worried, holding your jaw lightly to examine it.

“No, I think its from my soulmate. I don't want to meet your soulmate for the first time with a fat bruise on my face.” You whined.

“Can you cover it? Like with makeup?” You slumped slightly at his words.

“I don't know. I'm not the best with makeup.” He pondered for a moment, suddenly brightening.

“A friend of mine is a really good makeup artist. I'll ask him.” He decided.

“You have friends?” You joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“You know what on second thought maybe I won't ask him.”

“No!” You begged, tugging on his arm, “Please message him!” He smirked at you, quickly texting the friend.

Less then 10 minutes later you were standing in the bathroom, Jihoon sitting on the closed toilet, as you listened to the tips his friend Junhui had given you.

“Then you put on your foundation and regular makeup.” He read, glancing up at you as he finished. “It looks good. You can't even see it.” He smiled.

“I hope so. I really want to make a good impression.” You explained.

“Why, its not like he's your soulmate.”

“No, but I've heard stories of people absolutely hating their soulmate's families and I don't want to become some horror story.”

“You'll be fine. Now finish getting ready, we're supposed to meet him in half an hour.” He patted your cheek and left the bathroom.

Seeing as you had most of your make up finished already, it didn't take very long to finish the rest and the two of you were out the door in less than 15 minutes.

“Jihoony!” A voice called the moment you entered the café. You spotted a very excited young man waving at the pair of you from next to another boy who looked less than thrilled to be there.

“For the love of, can you not scream that across the room, babe?” Jihoon asked, greeting his boyfriend with a hug.

“But your face is so cute when you're embarrassed.” Soonyoung laughed, his eyes falling on you. “Hi there, you must be Y/n, I've heard so little about you.” He greeted. “I'm Soonyoung, but you can call me Hoshi.”

“Hi, Hoshi. It's nice to meet you.” You greeted, smiling at his antics. He was so different from your older brother, like a cat and a dog were dating.

“And this is my little brother Chan, but we call him Dino. I figured if I was meeting your little sibling, you should meet mine.” Chan stood up and smiled brightly at you.

“Hi, I had no choice in coming here so I apologize.” He greeted, making you laugh before taking his outstretched hand.

The moment your fingers touched a spark exploded across your hand and you both jolted back.

“What was that?” You asked.

“Oh my god! You're soulmates!” Hoshi cheered, which made the people in the room look at you.

“Why don't you guys go get your own table and get to know each other?” Jihoon offered, seeing how nervous you had suddenly gotten due to the attention shifting to you.

“Yeah I think that's a good idea.” You nodded, extending your hand to Chan, “Shall we?”

“Sure.”

~~

“So I need to know,” You started, sipping your coffee, “How on earth did you get the bruise this morning?” His face flushed and he hid behind his hands.

“Oh god, its so embarrassing.” He whined, which made you giggle. He peeked at you through his fingers.

“I was thinking someone punched you or something like that.”

“No, nobody punched me.” He assured you, waving his hands. “I- oh man this is embarrassing- I was getting ready this morning and I was super tired and I tripped up my stairs and smacked my face on the banister.” He hung his head as you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing. “Are you laughing at me?” He asked incredulously.

“No, No, I swear.” You gasped out, trying not to.

“You are!” He accused. “Its okay, go ahead, I laughed too when it happened.” With his permission, you finally let out your giggles, earning a smile from him. When your laughing fit stopped he was still staring at you, a soft smile on his face and his head resting in the palm of his hand.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” You asked, patting your cheeks lightly.

“No, you're just really cute.” He shrugged.

“Oh my, you are so cheesy, Lee Chan.” You huffed, smiling despite your words.

“Only for you.”

~~ *Bonus*

“Ugh, they're adorable, its disgusting.” Jihoon scoffed, staring daggers at his little sister and her supposed soulmate.

“Oh hush, they're doing the same thing we did on our first date.” Hoshi scolded, also staring at the pair who were utterly enraptured with each other.

“We went to a cat cafe on our first date. We spent the whole time ignoring each other for the kittens and got kicked out by the owner at the close. You cried.” Jihoon reminded him.

“Not my proudest moment, still my favorite though.” Jihoon rolled his eyes at the other man's cheesiness.

“Whatever you say.” He nodded, “Hey wait, if you and I are soulmates and so are they, does that mean that whoever gets married first, the other is committing incest?” Jihoon wondered, kinda grossed out at his own train of thought.

“Oh, no, not really. Dino's not biologically my brother. He's adopted.”

“Oh okay.”

“But hey, she won't have to change her last name.”

[unbreakablejemmasimmons]

Dear Yuletide Writer

Thanks for signing up for this superfun exchange! This is the sixth year I’ve participated now, and I’ve always enjoyed it– I hope you do, too.

Below you’ll find the following:

General Likes/Kinks General DNWs Fandom Specifics/Prompts

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend - Rebecca Bunch, Greg Serrano

Legally Blonde (Movie) - Elle Woods

Mad Men - Peggy Olson, Stan Rizzo

Superstore - Jonah Simms, Amy Dubanowski

I’ve tried to list some varied prompts for each fandom, but please don’t feel like you have to stick to what I’ve come up with. If the rest of my letter gives you another idea you’d like to write, I’d love to read it!

a little about me to start:

My AO3 name is SuburbanSun; you can also check out my Tumblr if you’d like, and my tags for each of my requested fandoms here:

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend | Legally Blonde | Mad Men | Superstore

general likes/kinks:

I’m a big trope fan in general– faves include rivals/enemies to lovers, friends to lovers, bed-sharing, trapped in an enclosed space, mutual pining, secret dating/sneaking around, slow burn, FWBs that turns into something more. Subversions of tropes are also great, so don’t feel like you have to go the obvious route if you choose to write something tropey!

I have a great love for Secret Service/bodyguard/witness protection AUs and private eye AUs, and these days I’m (perhaps unhealthily) invested in US politics/news in my everyday life, so if you want to have any of my requested characters run for office, I’d never turn that down.

Epistolary fic, either as part of a story or as all of it, is always fun to me, if it’s up your alley. Phone calls! (Phone sex?) Emails! Letters! I love it all!

I love strong-but-flawed-and-realistic female characters in general. Ladies kicking ass through cleverness and wit and competence is the best, and I love it when they’re allowed to make mistakes and fuck up and dig themselves into a hole, too.

Smut is cool and fun and here are some kinks that I like to read: Teasing. Phone sex/sexting. Semi-public sex (not actually getting caught though). Workplace sex. Dirty talk. Oral sex. Playfulness/joking around during sex.

general dnws:

Superangst and sad endings. Babyfic/kidfic/pregnancy in general. Self-harm/abuse. Noncon/dubcon. A/B/O, mpreg, incest, bestiality, hard kink. Poly/threesomes/orgies. Members of my ships being paired romantically with other people (unless it’s just briefly, on the way to an OTP-happy ending). First person POV.

fandom specifics/prompts:

Crazy Ex-Girlfriend Rebecca Bunch, Greg Serrano

I loved this show from beginning to end. It’s clever, it’s feminist, it’s funny, it’s real (even as it features elaborate musical sequences!), and the characters are so flawed but so great. 

I shipped Rebecca and Greg so hard in the early seasons, before he left. When I read that they were bringing the character back but recasting, I was naturally a bit suspicious-- how would that work? Would it diminish my love for the ship? Reader, it did not diminish anything, and in fact made me kind of love them even more. Skylar Astin’s performance of Greg, a little grown up and a little more put together, made me swoon. And I began to see how they could make an adult relationship work. Naturally, things went awry during the course of the final season, but I think the finale left us with so much hope that they would find their way back to each other.

I love all the other characters, so feel free to mix them in-- especially Paula!

Prompts:

Rebecca and Greg find their way back to each other! How does it happen? 

Rebecca/Greg + any number of tropes– stuck somewhere together; inconvenient bed-sharing; fake dating, the works.

Maybe West Covina has run its course for both of them, and they decide-- together or separately-- to move somewhere else. Maybe Rebecca decides it’s time for her to go back to New York to give her Broadway dreams a try? Maybe Greg tags along? Or maybe it’s fate, and just as she’s made the choice to head back East, he gets a job offer there, too, so they’re both moving to NYC but aren’t technically together, and how does that work?

It’s Christmas in West Covina, and Greg gets Rebecca’s name in Secret Santa. How does he find the perfect present that says both “I’m still kind of sort of in love with you” and also “I spent no time on this whatsoever because pssh who cares?”

Legally Blonde (Movie) Elle Woods

This movie is such a classic to me, one I can quote, and one I can’t help but watch when it’s on TV. I love Elle Woods’ determination and relentlessness, and how she’s a shining example of how prettiness and positivity doesn’t preclude smarts and success. I want more about the unstoppable Elle Woods, charging toward her ambitions with a designer handbag and the perfect pink lip.

(I generally dig Elle with Emmett in canon, but I don’t really care much about him, so if you’d rather write her solo or with someone new, go for it!)

Prompts:

Elle Woods for President! Tell me about Elle on the campaign trail. Tell me about the debate between Elle and her opponent. Tell me about how Elle interacts with her campaign staff, or her strategy to win Iowa. 

Elle Woods AS President! Tell me about her first night living in the White House after she wins, or her first big challenge, or what it feels like looking out on Washington and thinking about how far she’s come.

Elle heads back to Harvard– does she become a professor? Is it to mentor young law students? Is it for a case?

Elle the Vampire Slayer AU

Mad Men Peggy Olson, Stan Rizzo

I love and miss this show so much. It was so smart and made me feel so many things, and in truth, Peggy Olson is one of my favorite characters in all of fiction.

Peggy and Stan is such a great ship, to me, and one I was on board with from the very beginning. Omitting his boorish behavior early on, once they established a rapport, they were such equals, and he seemed to respect her so much, and vice versa. They got on each other’s nerves and knew how to push each other’s buttons, but that’s just because they connected so well and really got each other.

Prompts:

I absolutely adore the time period where they’re basically phone buddies. Maybe an AU where they get together earlier in the series, during that time? How their phone conversations evolve from discussing work to discussing everything to falling for each other (or realizing they already had)? Phone sex (or getting ever-so-close to it before realizing they’re in the office and it’s inappropriate) is a-okay here too.

In the same vein, epistolary fic could be really fun to play around with here. Maybe a story told through a series of interoffice memos, messages, notes in the margins of copy pitches and along the edges of spec art?

What are things like now that Peggy and Stan are working together and being together (and possibly living together)? It’s got to be frustrating at times but worth it in the end, right?

NASA/Space Race AU– Peggy’s a NASA scientist/engineer and Stan is an astronaut

Superstore Jonah Simms, Amy Dubanowski

This is such a fun and funny show, one that snuck up on me but that is reliably a show I look forward to every single week. Amy and Jonah’s slow burn was a delight to watch, and I love their occasionally contentious attraction to each other, and especially how supremely dorky, pretentious and pedantic Jonah can be.

I love all the other characters, so feel free to mix them in!

Prompts:

I’m really interested in exploring Jonah’s ambition or lack thereof. Does he have any, at this point? What if he decides to quit Cloud 9 to pursue a dream? Does he get an MBA or a creative writing degree? Does he decide to write a screenplay? Give me all the pretentious but well-intentioned Jonah.

A look at before Jonah and Amy got together, or if they’d gotten together earlier-- sneaking around the store, or UST in the break room.

AU where some kind of scary outbreak (zombies? werewolves? giant bats?) has hit the town and they’re trapped in Cloud 9 while they wait it out.

So, that’s that! I really hope you enjoy the whole process this Yuletide season, and thanks for participating! Happy writing!