#they're in a gender cascade

[thewitchinthecherrytree]

I have never laughed as hard as I did when they ended the AP with this. Absolutely cackling!

[pomefioredove]

hi hi there! I'm not sure if I'm doing this correctly, but can I request vil comforting the reader through a breakup? (totally not self indulgent comfort) I love your writing so much and you write vil so well. Thank you!

anon this isn't related to any exes but I have a bunch of highly specific reaction images in my gallery to use when I describe a person (usually a man) I personally think vil schoenheit would hate

summary: vil has always hated your ex type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: implied romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, hurt/comfort

There are very few things Vil Schoenheit is ever wrong about.

Even when he wants to be.

There are a million and one ways he could have said I told you so.

He might have even given himself a little pat on the back if the timing was better, but this was about you, not him and his excellent judge of character.

He never liked that person.

Thus, when you had turned up at his door not too long ago, looking like a kicked puppy, that was his very first guess.

And now, he dabs at the corners of your eyes with a silk handkerchief, trying to salvage the lovely makeup look he'd recommended earlier while you talk.

Another cascade of tears fall down your cheeks as you describe the nature of the emergency. He winces.

"Oh, dear. Please tell me you dumped them,"

You shake your head.

One part of Vil is aghast. The other is offended. Not only on your behalf, but at the simple fact that anyone could break up with someone he held in such high regard.

Are they ignorant? Stupid?

How could anyone be so foolish as to let you get away...?

"It's for the better," Vil says, tilting your chin up to prevent any more tears from falling down your pretty cheeks.

You sniffle. "I know you never liked them, but..."

"This isn't about that," he says it plainly, even though it's half a lie. "This is about the fact that you had ever entertained such a character. They're not worth a second of your time, do you hear me?"

You're quiet for a moment, not sure how to respond to his sudden attempt at boosting your confidence.

"It's just complicated,"

"Relationships tend to be. Hold still for me, dear," he picks a stray eyelash off your cheek.

Vil doesn't believe in things like wishing on eyelashes, but even as he blows it off the tip of his finger, he's thinking of you.

"You will survive," he turns back to you, smiling slightly. "Even with your terrible taste in partners."

"If you had it your way, you'd interview every person I liked,"

He rolls his eyes. "Tsk. You say that like it's a bad thing,"

Even now, you can't help a small, weak laugh. There was something rather impressive about the way he could lift your spirits without even trying.

The same thought seems to occur to him, and he smiles, delicately wiping away another tear with the tip of his finger.

"I just don't think I'll meet anyone up to the Vil standard,"

"Good thing you don't have to," he smiles, almost teasingly. "I'm right here, after all."

Another eyelash is wiped away along with the tear, though this time, as he blows it away, he makes a wish.

[annabelle--cane]

tma s1 thing I just caught- in martin and sasha's statements, they both have a moment where they're describing the creature they encountered and stop themselves from using a gendered pronoun and go to "it" instead.

I could see those… thin, silver worms crawling in and out, and their black tips twitching as they squirmed through that… pitted… meat. I mean, it wasn’t human. It can’t have been. Sh-She… It took a step towards me and as it did so the worms began to writhe out of every hole and cavity, falling to the floor in a cascading… wave and starting to crawl towards me with… with alarming speed.

+

I didn’t want to call him Michael; it didn’t seem to fit somehow, and the way he said it made me think that it definitely was not his name. Still, it wasn’t like I had any other name for him. No, not for him. For it.

but martin doesn't refer to jane by pronouns for a while after that passage, and the first time he does is when he's having his "oh god was she just a sick woman I left to die" moment, and after that he reverts to using she and her pronouns for the rest of his statement. conversely, sasha uses it and its for michael the whole way through her statement after that, except for, debatably, this one line near the end. both the snarp and rq official transcripts have is down as "its," but I distinctly hear "his."

I looked up to see Michael, reaching into my shoulder. Its fingers were long and distorted as they reached through my skin, cutting it like paper. I screamed. After a few seconds, it withdrew its hand. Held there was a single silver worm, wriggling pathetically in his grip. I hadn’t even felt the thing burrowing into my arm.

to me these differences are interesting from a few angles, both from the martin/sasha and jane/michael sides of things (also just for clarity I'm going to use she/her for jane and he/him for michael going forward in this post).

michael consistently self-describes as non human, or slightly human but only begrudgingly and against his will, and to sasha's knowledge michael was never human at all, whereas jane is more simply a normal person who got creaturefied, so "it" and other traditionally non human language may just be a better fit for michael's reality than for jane's, but I also think the specific places where sasha and martin switch back to traditionally human pronouns are telling. in michael's case, it is the moment where sasha sees that he's directly saved her life, even though he did so by using a distinctly inhuman aspect of himself: his distorted hands. in jane's case, it's when martin contemplates whether she was in need of help and he abandoned her, and after contemplating that he doesn't try using "it" for her again. sasha re-humanizes michael when he is being vitally helpful, and martin re-humanizes jane when he thinks about her as vulnerable.

I also think martin trying to see jane as non human and not managing to keep it up even a little bit speaks to his reoccurring issue of being inconsistent in whom he dehumanizes and at what times. he wants to see jane as a monster when she's in his line of sight and scary and gross, but once he's away from her and conceptualizes of her as being theoretically vulnerable, he can only see her as a person.

[cremedensada]

something in my drafts that i actually got the energy and motivation to finish. it's not really my best work but i *did* try so!! also 600+ of yall?? (⁠(⁠(⁠;⁠ꏿ⁠_⁠ꏿ⁠;⁠)⁠)⁠)

Yandere Ocean Spirit who the local sailors and fishermen tell tales of. Some say he takes the form of a charming young man talking with the grandmothers, letting himself be entertained by their tales of when they were younger.

Some say she takes the form of a beautiful young lady walking down the shore as the sun sets down the horizon, colorful gold and orange painting the sky with awe - a vision of beauty and elegance.

Some say they take the form of an individual whose beauty goes beyond genders and labels, taking a dip in the ocean - glowing moonlight behind them. Locals who saw a glimpse of them would often murmur about their long cascading hair as dark as the ocean's waves in midnight; no one truly knows where the tips of their hair ends and the ocean begins.

Yandere Ocean Spirit who, despite his contentment with life at the seaside, finds himself curious with you - a new face, a visitor, in his home.

You were staying at the seaside for the summer, spending time with your relatives per your parents' decisions. You're not all too happy with being plucked out of your comfort zone, but you suppose you might as well make it work - a chance to destress before you'll have to come back and face the reality of life's hustle and bustle, like the unforgiving ocean waves crashing against the shore, hah.

The ocean waves are inviting today - not too huge and overwhelming, but neither too placid and calm. You spend a huge chunk of your afternoon watching the waves - something so routinely was so pleasing to you.

The beautiful stranger approaches you in one of your ocean-watching ventures, a sweet smile adorning her beautiful face - asking permission to accompany you. And who are you to deny her? Not when she looks at you looking like the most breathtaking woman you've ever met in your life and you are just a human being with a huge appreciation for beauty.

"I like the ocean," she says, after a moment of silence, eyes trained on the waves, "everything in life can change - things come and go, but you can always count the ocean to be there."

You chuckle. "Even the ocean can be unforgiving, you know. Especially during storms."

"Ah," she laughs, "that, I'll have to agree... we're all victims to the whims of the weather."

You smile in agreement, and the silence that follows is pleasant and welcome - like the ocean breeze gently blowing against your skin.

The next few days you busy yourself with familiarizing around town. While running an errand for your aunt, you come across a huddle of fishermen - gazes grim.

"Looks like it's about to rain," one of them says, "can't go fishing at this weather."

You hear another fisherman let out a grunt, just as you near their huddle.

"We can't always hope for a fair weather all the time. The ocean spirit can only do so much for us common folk."

An ocean spirit? You halt in your steps unconsciously, curiosity urging you to listen more. One of the men seems to notice, and lets out a hearty laugh.

You feel yourself flush in embarrassment at being caught listening.

"Curious, eh?" he says as the others turn to you as well, wearing matching amused smiles - at the very least, they didn't look like they were mocking you. "Never heard of an ocean spirit before?"

"Spirits aren't... exactly common in the city," you find yourself responding.

They nod in understanding. "Too urbanized," one of them says - a man sporting a huge scar underneath his left cheek, "they're more powerful and stronger when they're in their natural habitats."

It's your first time hearing of the existence of such spirits. "What does the spirit look like?"

They share amused glances, like you've just asked them of an inside joke you didn't know they had. "Well it depends on how the spirit wants to look like. But you've already met her, if that's what you're asking."

Their words echo in your mind until the next day as you watch the waves once more. It crashes against the sand and washes towards your feet - you watch it retreat.

A smell of the ocean breeze creeps up on you, and you feel a presence beside you.

"Mind if I join?"

His voice is deeper this time, different from her softer lilt - the one that reminds of you of early morning rays, the calm rippling of the ocean accompanied by the glittering sunlight. His voice feels like the warm ocean water soaking you to your thighs, gently swayed by the waves moving to and fro.

You turn to meet his gaze.

"You never told me you were an ocean spirit."

Unfazed, he smiles. "You never asked... plus, I didn't intend to hide it in the first place."

You entertain him with your company - his eyes gazing at you with keen interest as you share about your life in the city.

"—and what brings you to this peaceful little town?"

"Just... vacation," you shrugged, "I'm heading back to the city after a few weeks."

He frowns, but quickly covers it up with a serene smile. "That's a shame. Can't you stay a little bit longer?"

"I'm not meant for the seaside life," you respond; and it's true. You were not born with the ocean breeze to greet you in the morning, and the sound of birds singing the days away, nor the sound of waves lapping against the shore. You were born with the hustle and bustle, the sound of heavy traffic and hurrying men and women getting to one designation to another, and the smell of smoke permeating in the air.

It can be said, yes, that you can get used to a simplistic life at the beach but could you really? Not when your subconscious mind tells you that there's more to do at home, things to finish, projects to oversee, friends to keep up with, a life that you cannot afford to upend because your comfort has already rooted in the city, and it would be foolish to uproot it in an environment that it has to get used to after it has already matured.

"Oh."

He quietens after that. The waves are audibly more harsher as they crash against the shore, thrashing and lashing even beneath clear blue skies. The ocean spirit is not mad, but it rolls off of him in the waves.

And days turn to weeks — the waves only get harsher. Fishermen stand by the shore, scowling and frowning as the rough waters force them not to travel the nasty waves. What good is their livelihood if they do not live to return anyway?

The ocean spirit is nowhere to be seen, and there's no way to bargain or to ask what's wrong — like he has just disappeared down the depths.

The day of your departure comes, bags packed and a sense of anticipation to be back home thrums in your veins. As the car rumbles to life, thunder crackles in the air and lightning strikes — a flash flood comes surging towards the shore.

Cries of surprise and fear erupted from the villagers as the waves slammed against them, like claws tightening their hold on their prey. Was this the work of their ocean spirit? The gentle soul who would listen to the grandmothers' tales of their young love and misadventures like a child listen's to a fisherman's tale of braving the storms.

Or was the ocean spirit holding themselves back all along, now only deciding to let go of their restraints and let the humans feel the full blow of the ocean without their careful watch. Humans, who have since been uses to their less than concerning storms, unfit to respond to such a devastating occurrence — too panicked and fearful to flee away to higher ground.

You watch as the waves continue to drown more and more people, and a lone figure standing on an elevated rock formation. Has it been there all along?

Your feet moved before your mind can catch up to it, wading through the waters to reach the figure. They notice your presence and, serenely, smiles at you.

"Hello," they greet, like the storm all over them is not happening at all, "wanna watch the ocean with me?"

"You need to stop," you insist instead, ignoring their invitation. "The villagers are drowning."

They merely watch, and hum. "That's a shame, isn't it?" they murmur. How can they be so cruel? No — have they been this heartless all along? What of the person who the people sing praises of? "Perhaps they should start to learn to get used to it."

You hear the wail of a mother. You can only imagine what made her cry with such devastation.

"After you've given them protection?"

"Aren't we all victims to the whims of the weather?" They hum, "then perhaps, we're all also just victims to the whims of the ocean."

"And what would change the ocean's whim right now?"

As though waiting for that inevitable question to be asked, they smiled. "For you to stay."

Another harsh wave ravages the village, and they smiles at you with a calm smile — calm as the waves of the ocean should be — as more cries and sobs, pleas for help fills your ears.

"Well? Will you stay, or will you let everyone drown?"

[ginnsbaker]

Bulletproof (10/10)

Part Summary: After figuring out your feelings for each other, you and Wanda return to the Avengers compound to determine your future.

Chapter word count: 4.1k+ | Tags: Smut (18+ only), Fluff, Steve being Steve, A little reunion with everyone else | Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Author's Note: Another series comes to an end! But wait there're more--the alternative ending which will be posted tomorrow (or the day after tomorrow at the latest!). I had so much fun writing "Bulletproof" and it wouldn't be possible without the anon who initially requested a oneshot. Thank you to all who commented, reblogged, liked and read this mini series. Many of you are unaware that this blog was primarily a fanart blog before I started posting fics here, and I've been thinking about whipping up a short comic strip of a scene from Bulletproof, so watch out for that :)

Series Masterlist

-

As the morning sunlight filters through the window, Wanda stirs from her slumber. Blinking open her eyes, she's greeted with the sight of you, peacefully sleeping next to her. She can't help but remember the previous time she woke up with you beside her. That morning realization, that she had fallen for you, had sent her into a panic, eventually causing her to slip away to her room before you could wake up.

But this time is different. There's no urge to run, no lingering fear. Instead, there's an overwhelming sense of contentment and a desire to push closer to you. Wanda reaches out, letting her fingertips trace the curve of your nose, moving down to trace your slightly parted lips. A soft smile graces her face, watching as your brows furrow in mild annoyance at being disturbed.

She doesn’t think she’s ever felt this way for anyone. With that conclusion, rather than pulling away, Wanda leans in, her lips brushing against your forehead in a soft, chaste kiss.

When your eyes flutter open, they're met with Wanda's gentle gaze, filled with warmth and adoration. “Good morning,” she giggles happily.

Your lips stretch into a sleepy grin before your eyes travel down her naked form. “Mmm, it certainly is,” you mumble, pulling her closer, nestling her against your chest.

Wanda's eyes glitter with a mischievous spark as her fingers gradually drift down from your waist. The slow, deliberate journey of her fingertips over your abdomen has your heart rate quickening, and her touch alone makes your skin prickle with anticipation. By the time her hand settles between your thighs, cupping you softly, the drowsiness that once weighed down your eyelids is entirely forgotten.

A gasp leaves your lips, your body instinctively pressing into her touch. The sensation of her fingers teasing over the sensitive skin makes warmth pool in your belly, the heat of your arousal becoming impossible to ignore.

Wanda's tongue traces the contours of your ear before playfully nipping at your earlobe. Her breath is warm as she whispers, “Did I wake you?” Her tone is dripping with innocence, but the mischievous glint in her eyes tells a different story.

You swallow hard, finding it difficult to form words with her hand expertly coaxing out your desire. “You... have a unique way of saying 'good morning',” you manage to reply, a lump forming in your throat as her hand continues to move deliberately between your legs.

Wanda's smirk is devilish, full of promise. “I thought you'd appreciate it.”

“I do,” you reply, voice husky, as you shift to sit up against the headboard. Wanda takes the cue, momentarily halting her touch, only to move herself gracefully and straddle your lap. As she does, the sheets cascade from her waist, revealing the tantalizing wetness that's gathered at the juncture of her thighs. Your gaze locks onto the dampened patch of hair above her core, and you can't suppress a smirk, realizing she's been aroused for some time—perhaps the entire duration you’ve been asleep.

Locked in an intense gaze with Wanda, your fingers precariously trace her inner thighs, until they finally meet their intended mark, lightly brushing over her slick entrance. The mutual sensation prompts an audible sigh from both of you: Wanda, overwhelmed by the electrifying touch, and you, awed by the fervent response of her body as she dampens your fingers even further. 

She’s so wet and so eager for you. You can’t believe how lucky you are to have her this way.

“Shit, baby, you’re gonna be the death of me…” you trail off before claiming her lips into a heated kiss, while Wanda keens against your mouth at the term of endearment.

With each light, teasing touch, Wanda's breath catches, soft whimpers escaping her as your deliberate pace keeps her on the precipice of desire. For a moment, she seems content with the languid rhythm you've set, a mix of frustration and pleasure playing on her face. But as the minutes tick by, that patience wanes. Her hips begin to grind against your hand, trying to draw you deeper, to elicit more than just a graze. Each time she attempts to capture your fingers within her, you deftly pull away, drawing out the dance and stoking the fire of her desperation.

The room fills with her ragged breathing and soft pleas, a sob catching in her throat as her need grows more pronounced. Recognizing the edge she's on, you decide it's time to give in—but not entirely on her terms.

Guiding her, you position her over your waiting fingers, the slickness making for easy entry. Whispering sultrily into her ear, you urge, “Ride me.”

The command ignites something in her, and Wanda starts moving, her rhythm gaining momentum as she rides your fingers, the sound of wetness and her moans filling the room. You take the opportunity to explore the canvas of her skin with your mouth. You suck, nip, and kiss, marking her pale, porcelain skin with more bruises to add to the collection from last night.

The fervor in Wanda's eyes intensifies, her movements becoming more frantic. You can tell she's on the edge, so close to her climax, and that's when you decide to change the game.

“Stop,” you whisper, and Wanda freezes, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. You carefully slide your fingers out of her, and she whines from the sudden emptiness, her eyes pleading. With a smirk, you bring your wet fingers to your lips, savoring the taste of her.

Wanda's breathing is ragged, her chest heaving as she looks at you, equal parts frustration and desire evident in her gaze. “Why?” she breathes, her voice almost a whimper.

“You'll see,”you reply cryptically, instructing her to lie on her back. Wanda obeys, and then you position yourself over her, placing a leg between hers. Your eyes lock onto each other as you lower yourself, allowing your centers to meet, the sensation immediately sending jolts of pleasure through both of you.

Surprised by the overwhelming feeling of feeling her against you, you wait for the tightening in your stomach to subside before you start to move, grinding your hips against hers. The friction between your sexes is intoxicating, driving both of you wild. Your hands find purchase on Wanda's hips, guiding her to meet your thrusts. Her hands wander up to grip the sheets, her knuckles white as she tries to anchor herself.

Your rhythm builds, each thrust deep and unyielding, fucking Wanda further into the mattress. The intensity of your movement eventually pushes her to find purchase in you, and as you feel Wanda's nails dig into your back, you can't help the low growl that escapes your throat. The blend of pain and intense pleasure from her touch makes your head spin.

“I'm sorry,” she breathes out when she feels the wetness of blood under her fingers.

But you shake your head, urging her on. “It's okay,” you assure her, a wicked grin on your face. “Feels good. Do it again.”

Her fingers once more find their way to your back, and each time she scratches, the sensation of your skin repairing itself serves to heighten the pleasure for both of you. It becomes a dance of sorts—Wanda marking you, you healing, both of you lost in the deliriousness of the exchange.

Her moans become more frantic, her mouth falling open as you drive into her again and again and again. “Don't stop. Please, just like that.”

And you're more than happy to oblige.

In a bold move, you shift your weight, seamlessly flipping Wanda beneath you without breaking contact, the newfound angle allowing you to delve even deeper, each thrust meeting her sweet spot, causing her to gasp and cling to you desperately. Her legs wrap around your waist, pulling you closer, urging you to go faster, harder.

You can feel the build-up, the familiar pressure that signals an impending climax. “Wanda,” you gasp, your voice heavy with need.

She responds with a keening whimper, her walls pulsating against you, urging you on. The two of you move in a frenzied manner, chasing that peak together, moving as one. The feeling is so intense, so raw, that when you both finally shatter, the pleasure is all-consuming.

As the aftershocks ripple through you both, you collapse onto the bed beside her, both panting heavily.

After a few moments of silence, you turn to her, the weight of the moment pressing down on you. “Hey,” you begin, swallowing hard, “I know it might seem too soon, but I can't help how I feel.”

“What are you saying?” Wanda asks, looking up at you, chest still heaving and you think she’s redder than she was just a few seconds ago.

“I’m saying I love you,” you answer with a soft smile.

Tears pool in her eyes, catching the morning light in a shimmering dance. She reaches out, cupping your face, and whispers, “I love you too.” 

You might not recall much of your past self, but somehow, you wouldn't change this present for anything.

-

The two of you are nestled on the couch, mugs of steaming coffee in hand. Every so often, your eyes meet Wanda's, a smile forming on both your lips as the remnants of the morning's escapade play on repeat in your minds.

Soon, however, the serene atmosphere is interrupted by heavy footsteps approaching the front door.

“Were you expecting a visitor?” you ask.

Wanda shakes her head, placing her mug on the coffee table. “No…”

The apprehension in her voice is evident, and the two of you exchange worried glances.

“Hide,” she whispers urgently, her eyes darting to the bedroom door.

“Why? I've got my powers back,” you argue, rising to your feet. 

Wanda's lips press into a thin line. “You might not remember how to use them,” she whispers urgently. “You could get hurt.”

You smirk, rolling your eyes. “Pretty sure I can take a bullet or two.”

Wanda looks like she's about to argue further when the front door slams open, the force of it sending it crashing into the adjacent wall. Her reflexes are instantaneous: Scarlet tendrils of magic emanate from her fingers, weaving a defensive barrier between the intruder and the two of you.

However, as the dust settles and the silhouette becomes clear, Wanda's magic falters, her eyes widening in recognition. 

“Vision?”

Vision, slightly wary or Wanda's immediate defensive response, raises his hands in a peaceful gesture. “Sorry for barging in unannounced,” he says.

Wanda lowers her hands slowly, the red magic dissipating. “What are you doing here?”

“Steve has ordered both of you to return to the compound immediately.”

Wanda narrows her eyes. “Why?”

“He didn't specify, but it seemed urgent,” Vision replies, his tone indicating that he's as much in the dark as Wanda.

“Is it about the organization that's hunting Y/N down?”

Before Vision can answer, the sound of soft footsteps signals another arrival. 

“They've been subdued,” Natasha declares without preamble, her eyes locking onto yours, a recognition in them. “The organization was kidnapping ex-agents who chose to live a normal life. And when your powers resurfaced, Y/N, they were hellbent in wielding you into a weapon.”

Wanda's protective instincts flare up. “Nat, I'll only return to the compound with Y/N if you can guarantee they'll be free. They've been through enough.”

Natasha hesitates, shifting her weight on one foot. “I can't promise freedom, Wanda, but I can promise safety. We need to ensure that no one else poses a threat to Y/N, or to any of us.”

Wanda looks torn, her eyes darting between Natasha and you, weighing the options and the promises. After what feels like an eternity, she exhales deeply. “Alright, but the moment Y/N is in any danger, we're out. Understood?”

Natasha nods. “Understood.”

She then takes a moment to glance around the room, an appreciative smile forming on her lips. “I must admit, you two found quite the hideout,” she comments, observing the tasteful yet cozy decor, the soft lighting, and the clothes thrown carelessly on the couch.

With the bedroom door ajar, Natasha's keen gaze settles on the slightly rumpled bed, a few candles still burning around it, and a teasing grin crosses her face. “Although,” she tilts her head, studying the two of you, “It looks more like a love nest than a hideout.”

You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks at her words. Though she doesn't say it outright, the implication is clear, and it's even more embarrassing given how accurate her observation is. You avoid her gaze, feeling slightly guilty as you remember the passionate moments shared with Wanda just the night before and again this morning.

Your face fails to hide anything and Natasha chuckles at you knowingly.

“Aren't there better things to spy on than our personal lives?” Wanda asks, the tips of her ears turning a pink hue.

Natasha laughs lightly, her arms crossed over her chest. “I can’t help it when the evidence is all around,” she teases, while you groan in embarrassment, hiding your face in your hands.

She then pretends to sniff the air, prompting a flustered Wanda to hurriedly nudge her towards the door before she can make any more cheeky remarks.

-

Steve is not happy.

But he isn't frowning either.

He has that ever-present solemn look on his face, and the only giveaway that something's off is the small patch he missed while shaving his chin earlier. Just as Vision is about to mention it, Natasha silently warns him off with a subtle shake of her head.

Steve leans forward, resting his hands on the table, his knuckles white with tension. “Wanda, seriously? Again? I can't keep covering for you every time you break the rules.” The disappointment in his eyes says more than his words ever could.

Wanda, defiant, steps forward. “If I hadn't been breaking those rules, Y/N would be in some corner of the world right now, being used by those monsters for their wicked games.”

“That doesn't justify your recklessness. We have protocols for a reason.”

Wanda's eyes flash with determination. “And sometimes, those protocols fall short, Steve. Y/N needed protection, and I gave it.”

Steve drags a hand through his hair, attempting to keep his composure, but it's slipping away with each passing second. “It's not just about the safety of one individual, Wanda. It's about the safety of the entire team. If we don't trust each other to follow the rules, then how can we function as a team?”

“Oh, cut the bullshit, Steve,” Natasha says sharply from behind them. “Half of these rules are outdated, and you know it. If Tony came up with these, you wouldn't agree to half of them anyway.”

Steve's eyes narrow at Natasha, a silent question in them.

She doesn't flinch. “Wanda did what she thought was right, and she's not the only one bending rules around here. Some rules are meant to be questioned, especially if they compromise the safety of our own.”

“But I’m not one of you right?” you chime in, surprising everyone, but Wanda most of all. Throughout the ride back to the compound, you'd been uncharacteristically silent, leaving Wanda tempted on more than one occasion to delve into your thoughts, seeking answers.

“Y/N,” Wanda mutters, but you raise a hand, stopping her, your eyes trained on Steve.

“I understand the need for rules, for protocols,” you say, your voice steady. “But this entire conversation assumes that I'm just some defenseless outsider. Wanda did what she did to protect me, yes. But she also did it because she knows what I'm capable of and how my abilities, and the knowledge I possess, could've been misused.”

Taking a step forward, Wanda catches a fleeting glimpse of the person you once were in the way you now stand before Steve. “The truth is, I'm not sure where I belong—here or anywhere else. But I do know this,” you say, pausing to look at Wanda and smiling. “I belong with her.”

Wanda meets your smile, her eyes shining in the wake of your confession. If the choice were hers, the two of you would be anywhere but here—maybe in a distant place where you could learn to find happiness, unburdened by duties and weight of the world.

Natasha, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, comments, “Well, this day just got a lot more interesting.”

Steve's shoulders sag, and for a moment, he appears older than his years, the burden of leadership is evident in every line of his face. “Wanda, I understand more than anyone the pull of duty and personal attachment. It's not always about the bigger picture, sometimes it's about the person standing next to you.”

He looks directly at you. “You still don't remember everything, Y/N. And with your powers resurfacing, it complicates matters. You can't just be thrown back into the role of an Avenger. You're essentially starting from scratch. There will be evaluations, both physical and mental. Training. Reacclimation. The compound isn't the ideal place for that.”

He then turns to Wanda, “But Wanda, you belong here with us. You're an Avenger.”

“Perhaps,” Wanda says before standing next to you and interlacing your fingers together. “But I also belong with Y/N. If I have to choose, then—”

“Maybe you don’t have to,” A voice from outside announces. The room's automatic doors slide open, revealing Tony Stark. 

Steve regards him with a short nod. “Tony.”

“Interesting conversation we're having here,” he says, glancing at the group. “I think I might have a different approach.”

Everyone looks to him expectantly. But he turns to you and says, “What if we could get your memories back, Y/N?”

Wanda straightens up, her attention immediately drawn to Tony's words. “What do you mean?”

Tony taps a holographic tablet that suddenly appears in his hand. An intricate blueprint springs to life in the air, hovering above it. “While you guys were deep in your heart-to-heart, I've been in touch with T'Challa in Wakanda.”

“Wakanda? What do they have to do with this?” Steve asks.

Tony continues, “They've developed a technology that accesses areas of the brain we've barely touched on. Something that's way ahead of anything we've seen or worked on. If Y/N's memories are locked away somewhere in there,” Tony gestures to your head, “I’m not promising anything, but they might have the key.”

You swallow hard, Tony’s proposition sinking in. The idea of venturing to Wakanda, a place both unfamiliar and undeniably imposing, is overwhelming. But if it brings back your memories…

“I’ll do it,” you tell them.

“I’m coming with you,” Wanda says.

Steve hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Wanda, it's not that simple. It's a highly sensitive mission, and with everything that's happened recently…”

“Steve,” Wanda cuts in, “I'm not asking for permission. I'm telling you.”

He lets out a weary sigh. “Tony? What do you think?”

“Why are you even asking me, Cap? You're the captain here. And if I remember correctly,” he adds with a smirk, “I'm not the one who can assign Wanda a 'mission' to formally accompany Y/N to Wakanda.”

Wanda catches onto Tony's implication immediately. “That's right. This can simply be a mission assignment. Y/N's retrieval of their memories is crucial, and who better to assist and protect them than me?”

“She's correct,” Vision interjects. “The restoration of Y/N's memories is of utmost importance. Wanda is uniquely qualified to help and ensure their safety.”

Natasha chuckles from the back, “Looks like you're cornered, Rogers. Majority rules.” 

Steve looks between you and Wanda. After a moment, he nods slowly, a hint of a smile appearing at the corners of his lips. “Alright,” he concedes. “Wanda, you'll accompany Y/N to Wakanda. It's a mission.”

Wanda exhales, relief flooding her features. She turns to you, squeezing your hand, “We'll do this together.”

Tony, satisfied, adds, “And just to be clear, I'm always up for a trip to Wakanda. Count me in.”

From the doorway, a grin appears on Bucky’s face. “Great timing,” he comments, sauntering in. “I’ve been meaning to make a trip back to Wakanda. Now I can hitch a ride with you all.”

Natasha, already with a sly smile, says, “I’ll make the sandwiches. Wakandan cuisine is great, but I know how some of you are with new food.”

Sam, who’s been eavesdropping with Bucky, rolls his eyes from behind her. “Speak for yourself. Last time you tried their spicy dish, I thought we'd need to call in a medic.”

Steve looks around at his team, utterly confused. “Why is everyone suddenly so eager to go to Wakanda? This isn't a field trip.”

Bruce, peeking from behind Sam, adds, “Well, I’ve heard they have some impressive labs. Wouldn’t mind taking a look myself.”

Steve throws his hands up in mock surrender. “I give up. I can't control any of you.”

You laugh, nudging Wanda playfully. “Looks like it’s going to be a full house.”

Rather than reply, Wanda tugs you aside for a more private moment. “You do have a place here, you know? With all of us, as family, not just beside me.”

“It doesn’t feel like I’ve earned it,” you admit.

“You have,” Wanda says softly, leaning in to place a tender kiss on your cheek. “You just haven't realized it yet.”

Before you can react further, the door bursts open again and Daisy storms in, her face lighting up when she sees you. In an instant, she's wrapping her arms around you in a tight embrace. You stiffen slightly, taken aback by the sudden gesture from someone you don’t recall knowing. But not wanting to be rude, you return the embrace lightly.

Wanda clears her throat pointedly, and Daisy's eyes widen in realization. She pulls back, a sheepish grin forming. “Sorry, I got carried away. I just missed you,” she chuckles, but the apologetic glance she shoots Wanda suggests she remembers very well whose territory she's treading on.

“Hey, I’m Daisy,” she says with a grin, extending her hand to you. “We’re friends, you know. Actually, you’re my favorite teammate.”

From the corner of your eyes, you catch Wanda's expression, tight and slightly guarded. You smirk inwardly, amused by her obvious display of possessiveness.

Taking her hand, you give it a friendly squeeze. “I’m sorry, Daisy,” you mutter, letting go. “I don’t remember.”

“Don’t worry about it. On the bright side, at least you won’t remember all the embarrassing moments we’ve had together.” 

Puzzled, you ask, “What moments?”

Before Daisy can answer, Steve yells over the growing chatter in the room. “Alright, everyone! Thirty minutes to pack. We're headed to Wakanda.”

Before you can process what’s happening, Wanda’s hand wraps around yours, pulling you towards the door. You're yanked forward, stumbling slightly in her rush. Glancing over your shoulder, you manage a quick, “Sorry, Daisy. See you soon?”

Daisy just chuckles, shooting you and Wanda a knowing, amused smile. 

-

The sun dips low over Wakanda, painting the city and its green expanse in rich gold. The past couple of days blur with laughs, music, and dance as everyone celebrates the homecoming of old friends. But as the last aircraft departs, leaving a trail of smoke behind, the compound becomes eerily silent, except for the two of you.

The suite you're given overlooks the heart of Wakanda. From the balcony, the lulling sound of the waterfalls adds to the allure of the den you and Wanda have created within the room. Time seems to lose meaning. You seize every moment, every opportunity, tasting and immersing in each other fully.

The days merge into nights and back into days. You emerge, mostly together, to grab a quick meal. The only other commitment you hold is to work with Shuri, who is eager and hopeful that her technology can unlock your memories.

On one of those ordinary nights, you lie on your back, gazing at the ceiling. For once, your mind is at peace, void of its usual chatter, because you've never experienced contentment quite like this before. Beside you, Wanda lies, her skin bare and glistening, evidence of your ardor still evident between her thighs.

Wanda traces patterns on your arm, her fingers light and feather-soft. “You know,” she begins, her voice husky from recent activities, “This is the best mission I've ever been on. I don't want it to end.”

Turning to face her, you take in her flushed cheeks and tousled hair. Your hand reaches up to tuck a stray lock behind her ear. “It doesn't have to end, Wanda,” you reply, locking your eyes with hers. “With or without my memories, with or without my abilities, I'll always stay by your side.”

She pulls you closer, seeking comfort in your embrace. “Promise?” she murmurs.

You smile, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead. “Promise.”

[its-vannah]

Question...? | Jacaerys x Reader

A/N: I absolutely loved writing this, to the point that there's another authors note at the end. Love y'all! Enjoy!

Warnings: Arranged marriage, mentions of infidelity, use of the words "whore" and "prostitute", unhappy bethrothal, angst, fluff

Midnights Masterlist

Before arriving at Dragonstone, your sister took you aside and sat you down in your chambers, smoothing out the front of your dress as if you were still a child in need of constant care.

Taking a deep breath, she sat beside you, placing a hand on your cheek, "My Y/N..."

A small, timid smile appeared on your face. But you wouldn't meet her eyes. You couldn't. A piece of you felt betrayed by what she had done just days prior. Giving your hand away without a word.

By the way

"Before you leave for Dragonstone, there's some things I need to share with you," She explained, "Some things you may not want to hear, but should."

You nodded halfheartedly, "Yes, Aurely?"

Have to say

"The prince will expect certain things from and of you. Things you may not be prepared for."

Shaking your head, you smiled at her, laying your hand atop of hers, "Sister, mother has already been over this. The ceremony, what happens after the ceremony... How fast I need to be with child. I know."

I just may like some explanations

Releasing a shaky breath, your sister shook her head, "No, Y/N, other things. Things mother wouldn't dare share with you."

Raising a brow, your smile faltered, "Is it something bad?"

"It's not good."

You urged her to continue, "Go on."

"It's common for men to take on other women in addition to their wives. Whores, as they're called. They could be noble women, servants, commoners, even prostitutes. Even your closest friends."

Your shoulders fell, "He could be different, Aurely."

She shook her head, "Most men aren't."

"But what about Robert? He treats you well."

She laughed, "He treats his whores better."

Your eyes went wide, "I'm sorry, Aurely, I didn't know."

Fuckin' politics and gender roles

"Everyone knows, they just don't discuss it. Because it's not meant to be discussed. I wish someone had warned me before I was wed, but they didn't. So I'm telling you now. Keep your head up and mouth shut."

"You can't possibly expect me to do that."

Staring into your eyes, she gripped your shoulder, "You will. For the sake of your marriage, you will."

"It isn't much of a marriage without loyalty and trust. How am I supposed to trust my husband when he's sneaking off every night?"

"You're not."

-------------------------------

Your meeting with Prince Jacaerys had gone as expected. Awkwardly.

After introducing yourselves, you took a quiet walk through the garden, the two of you talking about the weather and your families. Nothing terribly personal. Nothing a man would ask his fiance, and nothing a woman would ask hers.

Good girl, sad boy

You couldn't get a good read on him. He looked sad, but he had a level of confidence you couldn't match. He was sure of himself, and it showed.

-------------------------------

That night, a ball was planned in honor of your engagement. After spending hours getting ready, your mother making sure everything was in place, the doors into the great hall opened.

Guests piled in, lord's and ladies, nobility, and knights.

Not long after, you made your entrance, a gentle smile on your face as you moved to sit beside Jacaerys at the long dining table.

She was on your mind

He nodded kindly to you, and for a split second, you thought he was coming around. But the longer the dinner went on, the more you realized that his attention wasn't on you, but the woman at the end of the table.

It was one drink after another

She was dressed in red, the color of blood, and her long dark hair cascaded down her back. She was beautiful. And whenever he caught her eye, he bowed his head and looked away, draining his glass of wine.

With some dickhead guy

Even when the two of you were supposed to be dancing, solely focused on one another, his eyes were glued to her. But she wasn't even looking his way. She was dancing with another. And when she did return his gaze, regret was plastered on her face.

There was something you were missing that had happened between the two of them, but you didn't know what. And you were hesitant to ask. But you had always been curious, and it always got the best of you.

It was only when he stopped dancing all together for a moment that he realized you had followed his gaze. And your heart broke.

Fuckin' situations, circumstances

Pulling away, you excused yourself and quickly exited the hall, ignoring the stares of the people you passed on your way out. This wasn't about them. They weren't a part of this marriage.

Making your way to your guest chambers, you hastily opened the door, closing it softly behind you. You had heard the sounds of slamming doors your whole life—you refused to stop that low.

Just barely yourself together, you could hardly breathe. Struggling to unlace your dress, you spent a few minutes unraveling the string until it hung loosely over your body.

Slipping it off, you were in the middle of untying your corset when you heard a soft tapping at your door.

Hesitant to open it, you inched towards the door, slowly twisting and pulling the handle open to peer out the door.

Standing before you was Prince Jacaerys Velaryon. A look of sadness on his face as he gazed down at you through his lashes, "Lady Y/N, I've come to apologize. May I come in?

"I'm not sure that's appropriate. There'd be talk."

"We're to be wed, there'll be talk regardless."

Accepting his words, you pulled the door open, stepping to the side.

Still standing in your half fastened corset and underdress, you felt bare before him. But according to your mother and sister, he'd see you like this soon enough. So you didn't bother covering up.

"I'm sorry for my actions, my Lady. It was wrong of me to look elsewhere. My attentions should have been solely on you. And from this day on, they will."

You could tell he was sincere, but you had questions. Questions you didn't want to go unanswered.

Can I ask you a question?

"May I ask you something, Prince Jacaerys?"

He nodded, "Please, call me Jace."

Sitting down on the edge of your bed, you pat the spot beside you, "Come, sit."

"I'm not sure this is appropriate."

You raised a brow, "You're already in my chambers unchaperoned, and I am hardly clothed. I think we're past the point of what is and isn't appropriate."

Accepting the truth, he sat beside you, "What would you like to know?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

He shook his head, "I can't answer that."

It's just a question

"But you can. And you will if you wish to earn my respect."

If Aurely could see you know, she'd have your head. But she wasn't here, and neither was your mother.

After a long pause, he nodded, "Yes."

"With the girl—at the ball?"

Half-moon eyes, bad surprise

His head hung in defeat, "Yes."

You shook your head in response, "What's her name?"

Jace's eyes sprung open, "You don't plan on harming her, do you?"

I just may like to have a conversation

"No, Jace, I don't. I just wish to know more about you. You may never love me, and I you, but I want to know what love feels like. Even if I'll never have it."

"Her name is Sara Snow," He said, "She married into a wealthy family. I met her in the gardens of Driftmark."

"Tell me about her."

He glanced over at you, "This doesn't upset you?"

"We're past that point, Jace."

He sighed, "She was beautiful. That was the first thing I noticed about her. Her beauty. She may not have come from a high family, but she was graceful. Around others, at least. She was... Passionate. Born from fire, I used to tell her. She wouldn't take no for an answer."

"How long were you with her?"

"Three years. Whenever I had the chance to be with her, I was. I couldn't stay away. It's like she grabbed me and didn't let go. And I didn't want her to."

You nodded, "When was the last time you were with her?"

Did you realize out of time?

"A day before I found out about our betrothal. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I was unloyal to you."

Miscommunications and I

So your sister had been wrong. About the physical aspect, at least. Emotionally, his heart still yearned for her.

Did you leave her house in the middle of the night?

"How did she take it?"

Did you wish you'd put up more of a fight, oh

He left out a breathy laugh, but he didn't find what he was about to say funny, "She couldn't have cared less. She was wed two days later. I hadn't known she was betrothed."

Do you wish you could still touch her?

"Do you miss her?"

And you're not sure and I don't know

"Yes. No. I think so. Yes. It hurts like hell. But I can't do anything about it. I'm betrothed, she's married. And I honor myself with being loyal."

"I'm sorry, Jacaerys," You said, returning to formalities, "I'm sorry that I'm not Sara Snow."

We had one thing going on

He shook his head, "I'm glad you're not like her."

"In what way?"

I swear that it was something

He sighed, "You're sincere about what you say. You care. And that's easily noticed. It's what will make you a good Queen."

"Thank you, my prince."

The two of you were silent for a moment, and then he turned to you, "It will take time, Y/N, but I don't think I'll harbor love for Sara forever. I think, given time, I will grow to love you not only as a wife, but as a friend. But I need your patience. I'm..."

"Healing?" You finished, finally meeting his eyes.

A sigh of relief washed over him, "My thoughts exactly."

Rising from the bed, he extended a hand to you, "Shall we return to the ball?"

You looked down at your clothes, "I'm not sure it's acceptable to go back as I am."

"I could help you, if you'd like."

"Are you sure?"

Jace picked your gown up off the floor, placing it on the side of the bed, "Certain."

Then what did you do?

He carefully laced up your corset, his fingers gliding a long the ribbons as he criss crossed them, tying it at the bottom.

Turning you to face him, he slipped your gown back over your head, pulling your arms through one at a time before smoothing it down over you.

"Beautiful."

But one thing after another

Your heart fluttered at his comment, but you calmed your nerves, reminding yourself of his words: this will take time.

A color I have searched for since

Gazing up at his brown eyes, his hands stayed at your waist for a moment

Painted all my nights

Your mother had always told you that she found a sense of comfort in deep brown eyes, and until now, you hadn't understood why. But it all made sense now. That color was everything to you from that point on. Because it was his.

-------------------------------

The day of your wedding came, and although there was still a ways to go, you and Jace had come far in your friendship.

'Cause I don't remember who I was before you

Instead of seeking other friends to speak to about everyday topics, you sought out one another, eagerly filling each other in on what happened throughout your days with a smile. Now you were working on building your relationship with each other, which neither of you feared anymore.

So now, as you stood with your finger intertwined, finshing your vows, you accepted your future with Jace gladly.

Did you ever have someone kiss you in a crowded room

He leaned into kiss you, and you met him halfway, softening in his embrace.

But fifteen seconds later they were clapping too?

The only thing that broke you apart was the eruption of clapping from your guests, who were smiling and raising their glasses to the new couple, the future King and Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Does it feel like everything's just like second best after that meteor strike?

From that point on, you were Jace's sole focus. To him, everything else came after you and your happiness.

(I remember)

Years later, you still remembered what he told you that night.

But tonight

Under the night sky, he looked at you and, tucking a strand of hair behind you ear, smiled, saying, "I think it's happening."

"What is?" You questioned, turning to face him.

Got swept away in the gray

"I'm falling in love with you," He said, "I guess it happened faster than I had planned."

"That's the thing about love, Jace. You can't plan it."

He nodded and, with a smile, leaned into your embrace. Jace had fallen for you, and you for him. That was something that could never be taken away.

That you saw that night

After breaking away, you gazed up at him, "And Jace? I'm falling in love with you, too."

-------------------------------

A/N: In so many books, movies, and shows these days, love is shown as something that happens in an instant. Often times, we expect for love to happen at the snap of a finger. But not all love is instant. In this fic, you and Jace fall for each other slowly, and are still actively falling for each other by the end. As much as I love fast love tropes, it's important to remember that sometimes, the things that take the longest wind up being the best.

Thank you all for your support in this series. It means the world to me to read your comments and see how much y'all are enjoying it. Stay safe and love y'all!

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 24: food play

nct/wayv 1.3k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Xiao Dejun NSFW

🖤 warnings: my ridiculous passionate undying love for xiaojun, not letting ur puppy watch u get down n dirty, improper use of ice cream bars 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

"What the hell are you doing?"

He's completely frozen like you caught him committing a petty crime, like a dog with its head in the cupboard.

That's not too far off, actually, because Bella is right behind him, beagle tail wagging as she expects a bite of whatever her dad is trying to find. In the freezer, though. Not the cupboard.

"Nothing," Dejun answers.

Really, you're not shook about the snack. He can eat what he wants, when he wants. You're just wondering why this is happening at nearly three in the morning. The witching hour, man. Middle of the night. Making suspicious noises in the dark, dark kitchen.

"I heard a noise, I thought Bella was breaking something," you say, squinting even in the dim light of the freezer.

He relaxes. "Oh. No. Just me."

Just him. No dog messes to clean up, which is a huge relief. You're sleepy as hell.

"Then eat your whatever and come back to bed," you say.

"Wait."

"What?"

"You wanna try this?"

You really want to bury yourself back under the covers, and pass out for the remaining few hours until you need to get up for work, but you're only human. Your ability to resist your most favorite boy, with his messy middle-of-the-night hair, still rifling through the fridge, is extremely low. Basically nonexistent. If he's having fun, you want to be there.

He's just so excited. Tail wagging, basically.

It's three in the morning.

You sigh. "What is it?"

He brightens. You swear you can see the fine, sparkly glitter cascading off him, like a cartoon character at peak power. See, this is the energy you can't resist.

"I found these Oreo ice cream things," he says.

Of course, they're Oreo.

After the second or third time Ten roasted him for making shitty desserts in the microwave, Dejun made it his personal mission to find the best store-bought Oreo flavored snacks and desserts. Cookies and cream flavored confections are included, you've been told, but on thin fucking ice.

The best one needs to be found, and he's gonna be the one to find it.

"They're good. I ate one on the way home," he tells you.

"How many did you get?"

The heavy plastic shopping bag that comes out of the freezer is all the answer you need.

"A few," he says, diplomatically.

"More than five?"

"No comment."

"More than twenty?"

He grins. "No."

"Then we're fine," you decide.

"Do you want one?"

"Sure."

Dejun hands you a flimsy blue packet emblazoned with the Oreo logo. Looks pretty good, at least.

You open it up and take a bite. Yeah, pretty good. Nice.

In stark, pitiful contrast, Dejun opens his own ice cream, bites off the end, and immediately drops a big chunk of black chocolate coating onto his white tee.

"Fuck."

"Clumsy," you say, fondly.

It stains, because of course it does. You watch his panic build, as you lean down and retrieve the piece of chocolate so that Bella doesn't get to it. He darts for the sink, and he scrubs at the dark spot with some water, but it doesn't budge.

"It'll come out," you tell him.

"Still," he grumbles.

He strips off the shirt, while you watch with pointed interest. You get to see him naked a lot, but hey, sue you. You enjoy it every time.

The shirt gets yeeted, and the ice cream melts down his hand.

"Careful," you warn.

But the vanilla bar melts down his hand, down his arm, and as he raises the bar up, panicky, to try and fix it, the trail of white drips onto his abs.

He's gotten skinny-guy jacked, lately, and the melted dessert falls enticingly into the little ridges between his abs. He just stares down at it, annoyed.

You, on the other hand, are getting an idea.

"Hey," you say.

He glances up. "Yeah?"

You grab hold of his wrist, and push the softened half-eaten ice cream bar into his chest. He yelps. Which, yeah. It's still cold and the texture is weird. But still...

"Jeez!" he yelps louder.

"Let me just-"

It's three in the morning. It's not your fault.

You lean in, take hold of his thin, broad shoulder, and you lick a stripe up his chest. The ice cream is sweet and cool, and the warm smoothness of his skin underneath is a strange thrill. You just kind of vibe with it for a second. You go in to lick him again, this time, sweeping over a nipple.

"Oh-KAY!" he says, stumbling back a step. "Okay! Wow!"

Poor guy is flushed and wild-eyed. He glances down at his dog, who's just watching, like she wants to go next.

"Sorry, should have asked," you say, shameless.

Dejun looks down at his chest, at the flecks of ice cream and the clean trails you've left behind. You're looking a little lower, at the very sudden interested shape in the front of his pajama pants. Incredible. Your impromptu plan worked like a charm.

What he says, when he finally speaks, is, "Not in front of the puppy."

Bella gets locked out of the bedroom, but one of the ice cream bars gets to come in.

Another one, a fresh one. It's melting, but that's kind of the point.

"You're super weird," he tells you.

"I'm exciting," you correct him.

Clothes are lost, the tingling arousal you'd already been feeling from putting your mouth all over him rising with every inch of skin revealed. Dejun still seems flustered, but he's a cocky bastard. You can see his stupid rizz coming in strong.

You're eager to rip open the next ice cream. Clasped in the excited warmth of you hand, it's mostly melted, squishy in the package. You liked doing it more than you thought, the first time. What was mostly impulse turned into something that you can't wait to try again.

But you don't get to do that, because Dejun snatches the ice cream away.

"Hey, what - oh!"

The dude isn't the tallest, not the biggest, but he's got the motivation and the audacity. He pushes you right onto the bed and crawls on top of you. He sits on your thighs, pinning you in place pretty effectively. You could probably get him off you, if you wanted, but why would you want to?

"This is revenge," he says, dramatic, per usual.

"Do it."

Melted ice cream is fucking cold.

It's cold, but it feels...nice. You're squirming under Dejun as he rips the packet with his teeth and drips the melty vanilla ice cream down your torso. Careful, so that it doesn't run down your sides and stain the sheets.

There's something extra obscene about the color, you muse, as you take in the little shapes he's drawing on you.

"You know what," he says, peering down at your messy chest and stomach. "I get it."

The cold was interesting, but the warmth is even more thrilling.

Dejun's careful tongue, tracing the lines he drew, warm against the chill on your skin. His teeth, as he nips at the thin skin over your ribs, a slow drag over your sternum.

His eyes have fluttered shut. His hand is splayed over your torso, long pretty fingers.

"Jun," you say, serious.

"Mm?"

He's not really listening. He glances at you, and then he adjusts the angle of his head just a little bit, calculated, so that you can see the very best of his sharp jaw, his long lashes.

Fucker. He knows how pretty he is, and he's weaponizing it.

"Jun," you repeat.

"Yes?"

"Does this get to be on your Oreo dessert tier list?"

Now, that one makes him sit all the way up again, face thoughtful. He still has the ice cream wrapper clutched in one hand, and he straightens up on top of you as he rips open the package all the way and takes out a piece of the chocolate coating. He eats it.

"I dunno," he says. "I think we need more research."

You wriggle again, the tacky feeling on your skin starting to get weird. "More research?"

"Yeah. I mean. For example. Is that the tastiest thing in the room?"

His smile is so stupid. Can't even sell an innuendo without cracking up.

"Let's find out."

[soupbabe]

Trans Joy with Transgender! Slashers

Featuring: Thomas Hewitt, Stu Macher, Vincent Sinclair , Otis Driftwood

I've been wanting to make a post like this 🥰 literally this is just a post of trans adoration and joy. going with a slightly diff format because it's how my brainrot makes sense

Tagging: @rottent33th, @slaasherslut, @bugginbeetlew

- Transman! Otis Driftwood who believes his body to be divine- and it is. He revels in how no man is ever going to be like him. His expression in masculinity and experience is so uniquely him, he loves being seen a self made man. His ego grows when you lay soft kisses along the botched scars that decorate his chest. You let your fingers glide over the pink scar tissue, taking your savoring the rough texture beneath your fingertips.

- Your actions are never in vain however, as Otis is one to quickly notice and reward you for your dedication to him and his body ♡

- Imagine doing Transfem! Thomas Hewitt's makeup for the first time. God, she was so nervous sneaking Luda Mae's makeup into her room, but she couldn't help her curiosity. She always preferred wearing more feminine faces, but ever since you mentioned her real face in makeup, she hasn't stopped thinking about it. She sits still with her eyes closed as you use your finger to color her eyelids and swiped on a red lipstick that hasn't been used in years. She feels her long hair being toyed with before you tell her to open her eyes.

- Staring back at her reflection, Tommy saw her eyes painted blue and a braid cascading her shoulders. She's never felt so pretty before, never felt so glamorous. For the first time, she really felt like a woman.

- Transmasc! Stu Macher who loves his binder. He knows he looks hot, he loves the way you look at him when he walks around his house in sweatpants and a binder. His smile goes wide when you're all over him for it. Hell, he might even buy some crop tops to show it off more. He's early in his transition, but it doesn't bother him at all. Stu faces his insecurities head on, embracing them to the fullest to get over it.

- Though he's careful when binding, he has a tendency to forget how long he's been wearing his binder. But that's what you're for: to remind him to take breaks and gently massage his sides if it got too much

- Non-Binary! Vincent Sinclair who constantly experiments with their appearance. Vincent who plays with the androgyny of their appearance. No one knows who or what they are with their variety of masks and they love it. One day, it would be the cast of Bo's face, while the next day they might wear a mask that resembles a rosy cheeked cherub. They love baggy clothes, they want to resemble nothing and everything at the same time. Their creativity extends past the wax figures and shines through their gender expression.

- Call Vincent for what they are, ethereal, and they're putty in your hands. Sit by them while they're making a new mask, decorate it with them, and you'll have their heart in no time.

[doki-doki-lesbians-club]

Headcanon: in the event of MC being transfem, it's naturally a VERY agonizing decision to come out to the club, not knowing how they'd take a boy who's been in their club for the longest time suddenly revealing they're one of them in a very real way, considering how long it took some members (coughNatsukicough) to accept them in the club in the first place.

When they're brave enough to gather everyone and reveal the truth, however, they're very accepting--Sayori reacts by squeeing, jumping up, and hugging MC right away, and the other girls, though they do ask for some time to process the revelation, affirm right away that they'll do anything and everything to help MC feel more comfortable going forward.

Imagine MC's shock, then, when she shows up for the next Literature Club meeting--and finds the girls have put together a literal "coming out" party for her, replete with treats, music, gifts, and a makeshift hairstyling/makeup/nail polish station, with everyone eagerly giving MC answers to her first few tentative questions about girl bodies and the girl experience (everyone gets a turn in this regard) and cooing over how pretty and cute she looks now, much to MC's embarrassment. As you might imagine, there's much gratefulness, tears, joy, and love shared between all the girls that day, which MC makes a point to thank everyone for by the end of that day.

What do you think?

That's incredibly cute (;w;)

I think that this situation, like everything else the club does, would be more lowkey than a coming out party. MC comes out, and of course Sayori is excited and celebrates, but all of them are accepting and affirming right away. I think this might actually start a little cascade of coming out (depending on your headcanons) with the other girls talking about their own identities to give MC a sense of "You're not alone".

After that, MC would be very nervous to ask any of them about things she was thinking about, but would probably eventually ask Sayori about her hair (calling back to the Hairdresser Sayori ask I got), and she helps her style it a little while they're in the club. At some point, Monika would probably open herself to MC if she has any questions, as she's very much a mentor sort of person. Natsuki and Yuri most likely wouldn't be the best to ask/receive advice from, but again depending on your headcanons, Yuri would probably ask a few questions about MC's perception of gender and how she came to identify as trans (and help with Yuri's own questioning gender). Rolling with the Trans Natsuki headcanon (because I love it and am totally not projecting), she may or may not come out when MC does, but I think eventually she would come out to her privately, and the two are transfem besties!

But those are just my thoughts on it! A little influenced by my own experience coming out, but just thoughts. Everything I say should be taken with a grain of salt and an Ibuprofen, so take it as you will!

As always, thank you for the ask~!

[princesscolumbia]

Ānzhuōniichuan - Chapter 1: That Butterfly Died a Long Time Ago

Thankfully, this particular idea is not a megawork waiting to happen, just a novel's worth of ideas and arcs that came to me while I was putting the finishing touches on Double Isekai ch. 9.

Summary:

Thousands of years ago, long before anyone keeping records even knew of the place, Jusenkyo created one of the more exotic pools in its repertoire. This pool would go unnoticed and undiscovered...until an idiot hauls his son through China under the guise of a martial arts training trip.

Notes:

As of the time of posting, all Romanized Chinese is provided via Google Translate, which we all know sucks. If you know enough Chinese to spot and make corrections, please do so in the notes and I'll make the adjustments as I get the chance. Note about pronouns: Kickin' it old-school with this one; When Ranma's (and others with gender-related curses) in male form, male pronouns will be used. Similar for female form and pronouns. There's simply going to be too much going on at various points in this to provide the necessary cues via narrative at all the places to show which body they're in without breaking the flow. (Plus, and this is a teeny spoiler for something that comes up later in this fic, Ranma is gender-fluid and bi for this one) (...I know, I'm writing a Ranma that's not a purely Sapphic transwoman? Me?! Who'd have thought?) Oh, one more thing; this has a single change to the established Ranma 1/2 canon timeline. Yup, just one. Good ol' butterfly effect means that this one change means a LOT of little differences crop up over time, and the change happening thousands of years prior means that there's a LOT of these little oddities. If you're reading and say, "Wait, that didn't happen that way..." it's specifically because of the one alteration cascading through time. ...claiming full credit and ownership of the OC, though. 😎

Preview under the cut:

"Pops, get yer furry ass BACK HERE!" shouted the now cute, short, and girly martial artist. Not cute! Rough and tough and manly, damnit! The ground they were running across was shifting, which made sense. The entire valley was littered with spring pools, it wasn't surprising that the soil would be loose. That said, she and her currently panda father were far too skilled as martial artists to let some loose topsoil hinder them.

Surprise human male to the face...not so much.

Ranma's one real thought as she took a human person's mass to her torso and head was, Hey, he looks familiar! just before he impacted with her. She felt them both slam into the weak soil and the entire surface started to shift. Thinking quickly, she grabbed first a handful of grasses, then a handful of the shirt the other boy was wearing and held on as what turned out to be the embankment of a bluff, not quite a cliff but close to it, that overlooked a section of the Pools of Sorrow. She felt her shoulders nearly yank out of their sockets as gravity hauled the boy down into the valley. Remembering the abject terror she experienced not minutes before as she surfaced from the source of her own life-altering change, she was not going to let that happen to anyone else if she could help it. "Grab on!" she shouted, "Hold on to something!"

The boy (Why does he look so familiar?!) shook his head to clear it and looked around before looking up at her, "It's fine, I'm a martial artist. Just drop me, I'll land in that water down there."

"Nononono!!! You do NOT want to land in that water!" she felt more than heard the grass she was gripping in her other hand starting to tear. She may have a fairly sizeable handful and her grip was trained by no fewer than four obscure martial arts her old man had dragged her to over the years that focused on weirdly specific stuff like that, but grass was grass was grass and this wasn't going to hold up under their combined weights. "Trust me," she practically shouted, "Falling in this water is very bad!" She glanced around herself, trying to find anything that would give her purchase to keep them from taking another dunk. Unfortunately, when the ground beneath them gave way, not only did it break off some of the bluff and take them down with it, the remaining earth, an almost wet clay from what she could tell, was angled away from her. She was basically being held aloft by tearing grasses and her wrist as she held the training ground's next apparent victim over what looked like a fairly out-of-the-way pool. Right over it. As in, even if she managed to swing him somehow, she wouldn't be able to get him far enough out to avoid landing in the water.

"I can swim, it's okay, really! Don't hurt yourself on my account, miss!"

"I'm not a 'miss,' you idiot!" At his baffled expression, she started getting a little frantic and it was coming out in her voice, cracking an octave higher than she liked, "I woke up with a dick and no boobs this morning!"

He seemed to get it, at least enough to react the way she intended him to, eyes going wide. Unfortunately, just as he was raising his hands to grab onto her wrist, his shirt tore. In Ranma's defense, it looked like it was an older shirt that had seen one too many days on the road.

Ranma felt like time was going in slow motion as the boy fell to the water. This particular pool didn't have a shoot of bamboo sticking out of it, so that potential fall hazard was, thankfully, not there. On the other hand, if he was a martial artist like he said he coulda grabbed the pole...not like it matters now... As the splash pattered to the ground and surface of the pool, she realized that this particular pool wasn't as deep as the one she had fallen into...not that it made any difference in the end result. Huh...I guess there's two girl springs...? she thought absently. The freshly minted girl made her way slowly to her feet, water coming up to about her thighs. The torn shirt was substantially more filled out in the chest than it had been previously, and the girl's previously black hair was now a shockingly pretty green color that somehow looked right on her and made the black and yellow bandana on her head stand out in a very cute and attractive way. Well, at least the springs make some real lookers, she thought. "Oh, jeeze!" she hollered down, "I'm so sorry!"

The girl looked up and Ranma could swear her eyes kinda flashed at her, but that was probably a trick of the light.

Just then, the guide managed to run down the path between the springs. "Mister customer...! Oh, another customer! Not need run so much! Was going to..." the man clearly wasn't nearly up to Ranma's fitness level as he stopped and huddled down, hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath.

As though everything else that happened weren't enough, she heard the sound of the grass tearing further and had just enough time to say, "Oh fu~!!!" before she felt gravity get its revenge and yank her down. She managed, by sheer dint of the training her father had put her through, to reflexively grab onto the one thing between her and the pool, which was the other teen's backpack. She found herself practically wrapping around it like a particularly affectionate vine, not wanting to test what happens when you fall into two pools on the same day.

Which was, apparently, a valid concern. "Aiyah!" gasped the guide, "Mister customer be very careful! If fall into two pools the..."

...which was exactly when the straps on the backpack, sized for the brick of muscle and bone the other girl had been not five minutes before and not the willowy (if well endowed) form the other teen had now, chose that moment to fall off her shoulders and drop Ranma in the fairly shallow water.

As she surfaced (not hard to do, she merely had to sit up...though that task was made a little harder by the surprisingly heavy pack that planted her firmly on the spring's floor), she heard the guide say with a very disheartened voice, "...curses mix..."

"Oh, gosh, I'm sorry!" came a voice that sounded light and willowy as a hand reached down and hefted the pack from Ranma's body. This freed up her hands so she could rub the water out of her eyes and she looked up and saw the new face of the other teen...and found herself oddly transfixed, even if just for a moment. It wasn't quite like when she saw a pretty girl and her heart skipped a beat, or at least it was different enough from that feeling that she could identify it as different, but it wasn't anything she could remember feeling with anything or anyone else before.

"'S'okay, it aint like I didn't already take a dunk. Guess I'm just now double-girl or something." She took the other new girl's offered hand and together they waded their way to the dry bank.

"Very strange, not sure what spring customers fall in..." the guide's words trailed off as he scratched his head.

Ranma looked back to the pool and then at the guide again, "Aint it just another girl spring or somethin'?"

The guide shook his head, "Customer no understand; only one of any type of spring in all valley." He pointed at the spring right next to the one they had fallen into, "That Spring of Drowned Pig, tragic story of pig who fall into spring and drown over 400 year ago." Both Ranma and the other girl looked at the still water with alarm and very deliberately moved to stand over next to the guide, "No be another Spring of Drowned Pig until this one dry up or get buried and another pig drown in different, fresh spring. Mister Customer," he indicated Ranma, "Already fall in Spring of Drowned Girl, but I not see this spring before," he pointed at the still rippling waters, "Look like bluff fall, uncover spring, I think? Not happen often, but surprised spring not buried when bluff fell."

"Well, whatever," she sighed, "I...need pants. Can you get me back to my pack? And, I dunno, maybe help us find a cure or somethin'? We're both supposed t'be guys."

"Ah, yes! Mister Customer and other customer run away before I could explain; curse only part time. You always be cursed, but get normal body back with hot water." The two girls blinked owlishly at him, so he clarified, "Cold water now turn you into cursed form," he waved up and down at their new bodies, "Hot water turn back into mans. I have kettle at home, will change you back."

They both heaved a sigh of relief, "Well," said the new girl, "It aint a cure, but it's not as bad as it could be."

"Oh, gods!" exclaimed Ranma, "I thought I was stuck like this forever! Lead the way, sir, I need pants!"

(Read the rest at AO3)

[aaeds]

I've had it with HS^2

I don't make fanart or content for this fandom anymore, but after putting on "Let's Read Homestuck" in the background while I've been working I've returned to having a few Alpha kid WIPs. I have also returned to scouring the tags for cool fanart and opinions.

This is not the fandom I remember back when I was reading the comic partway through Act 2.

I cannot say I'm inspired by Homestuck^2, and to roughly quote another user - I don't know who the audience for this comic is for. The epilogues themselves were a disaster and the Candy/Meat timeline idea appears to exist to create even more drama with lackluster stakes.

There's no real clear 'goal' or core to the story besides...the fact there are two universes. And we have Ultimate-self villains.

It reads like bad fanfiction, that's nothing new - the problem is I don't think the authors are writing with irony. The series has turned into a ship-heavy metal bat beating older fans to death with teen drama and character assassination.

The current team clearly has no interest or plans for Jade for example, and in the recent update with Aradia and Robo-Dave discussing time travel - it really seemed like her body being on the floor was an excellent time to rehash several existential conversation points we ALREADY had in the original Homestuck about stable timeloops, dead Daves and how he uses his Godtier powers.

Outside of several unnecessary pages of dialogue, it was disturbing that no part of Ultimate Dave would help move Jade off the fucking floor while he and Aradia sleep in lawn chairs watching her until she became 'The Muse' It is so out of character. Pre-retcon Dave died protecting her body, Davesprite destroyed his relationship with both John and Jade knowing they would be reunited with the 'real' Dave. He was a true knight when he felt it was appropriate and mattered. But now we have a Dave who is back to having an existential crisis about his powers, life and death - and his sexuality. By bringing up dead Dave's Marriage from the epilogues. He didn't even mention Jade by name, presuming the reader read at least the wiki article on the disastrous self indulgent mess.

But that was all he had to say on that dead Dave. Just about not loving Jade. No one else, doesn't even bring up Karkat or Terezi, let alone any of his friends. Talking about Sollux for half a second I'm convinced was just to bring up a failed marriage and apparently 'not wanting to be gay'? This isn't Dave anymore, and if that's the point I want to know why we as readers should care because I promise you coming fresh off Act 6 for the third time these are not the same characters. Davepeta had a better outlook on what it means to experience doomed selves, whether they were chipper about it because of Nepeta's influence is neither here nor there. No matter what Davesprite did, it was in character for what Dave would have done because he knows himself. When it meant self sabotage so his friends could go back to the Alpha timeline Dave, that was a circumstance, and an act any Dave would have made because of the way he thought at 13 years old. That doesn't mean he didn't change, or would never change.

I don't think the furthest ring has rattled the kids in a glass jar hard enough to give them critical brain damage through every doomed timeline that they're different people. At least not in the way Robo-Dave is, or frankly anything in the Epilogue.

I'm done with the writers treating Jade as a dead animal to stuff Calliope into for a milquetoast attempt at a plot device without treating that as a joke in itself.

No Homestuck isn't a serious comic, but there's a reason Cascade broke several websites while Beyond Canon can barely drudge a handful of tagged UPD8 replies. Its audience is small and unchallenged. We don't need to bring back the use of the hard R to be invested in a storyline, but if all you're interested in in a piece of media is gender identity and sexuality well you've got it. That said, neither are a genre on their own.

HS^2 lacks one and direction and it's just going to keep dragging its carcass through the dirt until every unseen pairing in panel is churned through the fanfic machine.

[drowsyr]

hiii friend anon back again with some Thoughts on steve and robin!!

last night my best friend and i talked about nothing and everything on a phone call for nearly 3 hours even though we both have cars and live 10 minutes away from each other. we have a spotify blend and i think in a modern au steve and robin would have one that's 95+% compatible!

robin definitely makes those wool/thread bracelet things on slow days at family video and puts them all on steve; later when steve's bored he unravels them so she can start again :)

steve and robin discuss getting hair changes to sort of make a new chapter of their lives; they end up shittily box dying their hair in streaks in robin's bathroom one day

steve's hair they make pink and robin's is green. later on when they have matching crises about gender and their lack thereof, they go "well! this sucks, we just dyed our hair and now we forgot to cut and style it first." so the next day they go to a proper salon and get it cut-and-styled and they redo the coloured strands at home!!

they steal steve's mom's dresses and steve's dad's suits and dress up in them and have their own little fashion show - neither of them sticks to one specific type of outfit, at one point robin comes out in strings of pearls cascaded around her throat and delicate golden chains tucked into the collar of the shirt of the suit she's wearing; next steve comes out in a blazer and a flared blue summer dress

then they have a slumber party and they are fine!! everything is fine and they are amazing!! until the point where steve says "wait, robin, i don't think i've ever loved anyone like that (romantically) before" and they have to figure that out.

this happens in the span of like two days in which the rest of the party doesn't hear a word from them and then they're completely shocked when the two turn in for their monday evening shift.

have a nice day!! :)

hiiii <3

i know for a Fact that stobin has friendship bracelets like if u ever read a stobin post from me just know they are also wearing friendship bracelets

i used to be a camp counselor for many years and i made many many bracelets… i feel like robin and steve like to have something to do during their movie nights like they can’t just sit there and so i feel like they make a LOT of these bracelets.

i’m torn btwn thinking that robin already knew how to make them (learned from her parents, who i believe would encourage family crafting time when she was little) and thinking that erica taught them (maybe even while they were in the elevator? i can’t remember if she had her backpack but also little girls have bottomless pockets so. plausible)

i know in my heart of hearts that when robin offered steve the first bracelet she made him he was like oh🥺cool🥺thank you robin🥺 and was like. thrilled tearing up etc.

i feel like they make matching lesbian pride flag bracelets as like a subtle way of supporting robin (robin had the idea to make one then got too scared to wear it out bc like. steve what if they know what it means what if they notice. and he’s like robin if they know what it means then what do you think that means about them. and she’s like but oh my god steve but what if!! so he’s like ok make me one we’ll have more matching bracelets :) and robin was like aww stevie… omg ok!!(they’ll make bi flag ones when steve realizes/comes out))

also sorry to focus so much on the friendship bracelets but one more thing 🫣 i feel like el would looove making friendship bracelets like she sees the matching stobin ones and goes fucking insaaane she makes them for everyone (starting with max and mike then making one for robin as a thank you for teaching her <3)

also yeah. when steve picked up dustin for the first time he mocked the shit out of him for the bad hair dye but then he found out that both of them did it to match and he was like yeah ok this makes sense. still looks you guys did this shittily tho.

stobin loooove the harringtons closet. first of all though they do make a million closet jokes it’s actually insufferable. but they love it <3 but the party do not like the fact that by now if the word closet is said in any context they look at each other muppet style and crack up

also yes their sleepover conversations are rollercoasters… like when you trust someone so much and want them to know all of you good and bad it’s so fast to jump back and forth between elation and serious conversation…the girls love to gab!! and sometimes that gabbing means confessing the deepest parts of yourself bc the most important person in your life needs to know the most important things about you!!

[so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site]

A sudden out of nowhere ThoTh came to me an hour ago, what if... what if they change the gender for the character of Thessaly?? First I thought, ok, fine, we get rid of the terf to have just a regular bigot wizard.. but then I realized, The Implications.. would Morpheus being attracted to them? Would we get to see him being dumped and moping all over?? You might even think "ok but that's not really that important if you leave that out in the series" but then you remember that looking for her was his motivation to go around with Delirium in the first place.. setting everything in movement for the fucking grand slalom downhill up to the Kindly Ones... but what If they do that, what if they change the gender... I think it would be cool enough to watch, right? What do you think?

I'm not sure if swapping Thessaly's gender would make it "better" in the sense that the character would still be a bigot. Actually, I wonder if from a fandom-meta perspective, I worry it might make it worse. Unfortunately, even with all else being the same except gender, I think the fans might actually LIKE guy-Thessaly, since in general they seem more willing to forgive male characters for being assholes than female ones, even if they're equally terrible characters. Especially if the actor they choose looks attractive. (For example, the amount of angry messages in my inbox whenever I suggest Dream might be less than perfect shows how insistent fans are that their favorite guy can do no wrong, even when him canonically doing wrong is a major part of the plot...) Is it bad that fandom probably agrees on hating Thessaly because she's female more than the fact that she's a TERF? Yeah, but at least there's the base level agreement that she does suck.

As for whether Morpheus would be attracted to guy-Thessaly? While comics-canon Morpheus seems pretty insistently attracted to women, I don't see why Neil wouldn't consider a male love interest for the show. The fact that The Corinthian is pan now shows he's open to expanding a character's options, as it were. Not sure about the implication of having Morpheus's worst love interest simultaneously being the male one, though. Especially if we go with the interpretation that his dating Thessaly was an intentional act of self-sabotage/self-destruction--framing his first onscreen gay romance as an act of self harm could be taken negatively. But I don't see any reason why it wouldn't happen based on gender alone.

If Morpheus is still straight though and Thessaly is gender swapped, then that WOULD be a big change, since that would change the entire sequence of events leading into the finale.

I am very open to just about any change to the later arcs! Those are the ones that, to me, seem the most "of their time"/aged poorly without historical context (and also insufferably edgelord-y), and I feel cautiously optimistic that just about any change Neil does to them would be an improvement. A change to the Thessaly relationship could potentially have a massive cascading effect, since it really is the start of the big downhill slide.

If Thessaly is a man and they change nothing else about the character or their interactions with the other characters, then I don't think there'd be much change to the resulting events--other than perhaps a greater fandom desire to "redeem" Thessaly if she's a hot guy. BUT if there's a more substantial change--like Dream not dating the asshole bigot (regardless of their gender), THEN I'd be super hyped to see what happens next and what changes are in store!

TLDR: Gender-swapping Thessaly alone wouldn't be a substantial change, unless it's also accompanied by other changes in how Dream and others interact with the character. And I am all for changes to the later arcs!

[starrynyxa]

this might be kind of an insane question but i’m re-reading the fobmegaverse (again lol) and kinda wonderd if there’s like, hrt but make it a/b/o (???) in your universe/version? like, would it be possible to change your natural scent with hormones or some shit?? and would it get rid of an alpha’s (transomega’s????) knot?

i have so many thoughts about this and it’s all whirring around up in here lmao

Not an insane question! My answer, however, will be extremely insane. So the short answer is that yes, medical transition is possible in the omegaverse!

Long answer (now bear with me here, and also take what im saying with a grain of salt because im not an expert and barely have any idea what im talking about)

The thing that the omegaverse usually ignores/overlooks is that (irl) the hormones driving "secondary sex" (A/B/O) things like ruts/heats are the same hormones involved in "primary sex" (those being progesterone/estrogen + testosterone). And estrous (heat) cycles in mammals don't co-exist with menstrual cycles. So this throws a wrench in verses where you have both primary/secondary sex characteristics. It complicates things like male omegas / female alphas and HRT isn't as simple as giving someone the hormone they're lacking in.

Anyways this is my insanely unresearched fix that has zero basis in any actual study but what I've come up with is that secondary sex characteristics are instead driven by regulatory proteins that activate/inhibit DNA transcription. For the purposes of this I've just called them TF(A), TF(B), and TF(O) [TF standing for transcription factor] - and they begin to be produced when a person presents as alpha/beta/omega.

In the case of scent: The TFs act as activators for the expression of genes that [1] increase the number of olfactory receptors (allowing for people to be able to smell Scent) and [2] activate the secretion of pheromones by scent glands. I'm imagining this happens through some sort of signal cascade that's affected by other factors like the integration of neural signalling or whatever idk. TF(A) and TF(O) will be stronger activators than TF(B) in [2], but the reverse is true for [1] (Alphas + Omegas produce more scent than Betas, while Betas are better at detecting scent).

In the case of heats/ruts/genitalia: I started going into the specifics of this but ive actually decided that if i try to work it all out it would make me go crazy. So please just use your imagination, possibly involving such things like co-activators/repressors + allosteric regulation + the levels of primary sex hormones affecting how the regulatory A/B/O proteins bind/result in different changes in the body 😭 This interaction btwn the A/B/O proteins + testosterone/estrogen/progesterone is what causes in the differences we see btwn male omegas/alphas/betas + female omegas/alphas/betas.

ANYWAYS. As far as medical transition goes. The speculative grasp i have on this right now I guess just says that, as of right now in fobmegaverse canon, the field of secondary gender affirming care is still being researched LMAO. But these are my proposals for possible routes of study based on whatever the fuck I said above.

Scent Blockers/Suppressants: these probably intercept the scent gland signalling cascade at some point which prevents the secretion of pheromones, but still allows for the person to smell scent + this wouldn't affect heats/ruts. (In Patrick's case, the very flimsy reason I have as to why he never rutted is possibly due to an initial feedback loop, where scent is some sort of stimulus that "kickstarts" rut + since he started taking them prior to his first rut, he just never did. IDK i never put that much thought into it. Use your imagination here too).

Rut/Heat Suppressants: This would be the same as the scent blockers where you have to fuck around with protein binding and maybe hormone levels. I think possibilities for this include: allosteric inhibition so that TFs arent binding to whatever, or a molecule that binds to the receptor site on DNA + inhibits the binding of TFs that way. <- this way would potentially affect scent, with scent also being activated by the binding of TFs. Or otherwise, you could possibly target other molecules in the pathway.

Changing natural scent: Honestly I'm not too sure about this one. Logically I think that this is possible because scent glands essentially just work by secreting chemical signals. (Sidebar: i've nearly failed every single chemistry class I've ever taken). So hypothetically, to change a scent, we'd have to change the chemical compound that gets secreted and I'm not too sure how to do that LOL. I think there is potential for HRT as in like increasing your levels of the A/B/O proteins, in the case that these proteins are inhibitory towards each other (which would consequently affect rut/heats/etc) but I don't know how this would specifically affect scent. I would prob need to think more about how a person's specific scent is produced (in regards to: personal scent, hereditary scent, environmental factors, how we specifically ID someone as an alpha/beta/omega, etc). I also think the transplant of scent glands may also be something that could be looked into.

Knots: Tbh you probably just have surgery to remove the excess tissue that forms the knot. Tissues can probably similarly be transplanted on or something (and, similarly, you could maybe transplant epithelial tissues [or maybe epithelial stem cells?] that would produce slick.)

^ Literally do not trust me on anything that I just said here. I never know what I am saying ever, and science is not real to me.

[weebsinstash]

I get what you mean about the hair; I try and keep my fics with neutral phrases but I’ve got hair like yours, and sometimes I’m self indulgent 🤷

But imagine batfams reader cutting their hair while stuck in the manor and their reactions at finding out lmao

Honestly, their feelings of BETRAYAL. They'd be so overdramatic. They love to brush and braid and style and do all sorts of stuff with your hair: hair masks, hair stylings, curlings, rollers, would platonic bathing even be a thing 🤔😳 seperated by gender or whatever, or maybe your reader is an adult and you're on that stepcest shiz and that's 🤌 a ok. god the Wayne money makes a sort of communal bathing activity possible for, them to have some sort of big ass tub room or some luxurious "marble bathroom with cascading water from the ceiling into a big square in floor tub that could fit like 15 people in it" type shit, or you mostly have some privacy bathing wise BUT they sometimes take you to a spa where you've got some of them with you and, you know, you're naked so, depending on context this is either mildly embarrassing (oh it's just "your family" but you're shy) or downright humiliating (you know they arent 'actually' your adoptive family or youre a kidnapping victim or whatever).

They all do so much and more and take you to high end salons, and, suddenly, what did you DO??? Where did it all go??? I've had haircuts before where I've gotten a good ten inches chopped off, going from like center of the back to just above the shoulders, and also, like, I've also been a cheap bitch and cut my own hair before a few times, nothing fancy or risky, just combing it out ultra straight after a shower and cutting it even length all around

They're going from being able to do all sorts of styles with it, to, maybe you can barely do a small ponytail and maybe it causes so much traction alopecia it ain't worth it. And you're either so casual about getting/giving the haircut ,or, feel regret later and try and hide it but, regardless, they find out for sure. God, like, have you see Catwoman and Batwoman because they might be the first to notice. Both of them have luscious hair and as your official "new moms" they're the ones who like to look after you and the other girls (Barbara, Cassandra, there's so many of these mf'in comic books I'm sure there's more, Carrie Kasey is from an alternate timeline so she isnt really here). Anyways Selina always being physically affectionate and running her hands through your hair and tbh idk a lot about Katherine but she seems cool and she was shown in the Young Justice show which tbh is kind of where I've been picturing this all to take place, or like, something similar. Both of them are also rich heiresses and, also, you know, women so, regardless of your gender they always get you such luxurious skin and hair products and insist on mothering you and pampering you.

Seriously do you wonder if like the entire family excluding you has to have secret meetings where they negotiate around a calendar who gets to spend time with you like "We wanted to take them to our favorite spa this weekend" "well, they told me that they wanted to go somewhere with lots of animals, so, I'm taking them to that new famous zoo overseas. You'll have to reschedule" "dibs on next Friday, we were gonna do a movie night" "that won't work because there's a convention they've really been looking forward to and I was going with them" and also, would they even snipe each other's plans like 'oh shit that sounds way better than what I had in mind'. They overhear one another, discussing planning to surprise you with something they know you'll like or want to do, and the eavesdropper will snag it first. But also like, not always in a toxic backstabbing way, they're all a loving family albeit with Tons And Tons Of Issues (welcome to the Wayne house, bitch)

But anyways, rambling aside before I immediately begin a rant about another idea, I imagine it'd be kind of contextual how they react to your drastic hair transformation. Are you 'stuck in the manor' cause you're a grounded young adult or a consciously aware kidnapping victim this is all kind of being imposed onto. Or I've also thought of, we've discussed the whole age regression memory loss adoption thing, and potentially just being scooped up, but I've also thought about option c: you were a legit sidekick but then genuinely want to leave or stop and like, they'll let you choose to stop crime fighting but they won't let you leave the family and be on your own. Either way, the fam's reaction could range from some of them being scolding, to being sad, to being disappointed in you and feeling like this is indicative of some sort of problem i mean like "oh no a sudden haircut what if this means they're feeling kinda down, not anything about the kidnapping tho" like, you know how it can be almost satirical where people will overanalyze the situation and suggest the most bonkers thinks instead of accepting the truth. They're rushing to "fix" all kinds of problems. You're getting your bathroom completely emptied of all products and replaced with a customized, expensive routine like hair growth promoting oils and shampoos and masks and leave in conditioners like, borderline treating the loss of your hair like a tragedy like some follicle 9/11, which, also applies super hard to the next idea I'm gonna share before 😅

There's kind of, a personal haircare problem I've been encountering but is kind of specific but I could also see it making like an interesting sort of story. I have seborrheic dermatitis (which, it's dandruff, most skin conditions are actually autoimmune disorders) and my scalp just likes to randomly go crazy sometimes and, well, i can't tell if it's the use of a "safe for daily use" clarifying shampoo in tandem with the potentially drying anti dandruff shampoo, or the seborrheic dermatitis inherently, or just a dry scalp that's being exacerbated by the wrong shampoo, or even years of my own high ponytails, but, I've noticed a recent change in my hair texture with some noticeable hair thinning, so. Onto the concept, what if the fam was obsessed with your hair but you insist on being able to buy or choose your own products and they aren't possessive enough that they're controlling what your personal hygiene routines and such are (yet), so, here you are experimenting with new products and routines and just trying to have fun and you. Accidentally fuck up your own hair, or notice a problem, and you're too nervous to go to them because 1. You'll feel stupid about it and you don't want them to look down on you 2. What if they have a weird reaction about it 3. Bruce would probably take you straight to a dermatologist and what if that doesn't help and maybe you have some internalized trauma from being poor in your old life that you don't like "wasting money/resources on unnecessary dr visits if I can figure it out myself 🥺 im sorry"

But like if you outright damaged your own hair I feel like that'd really feed into their whole all around neurosis on needing to take care of you. Infantalizing sort of "SEE, this is why you need our help, can't you see we just care about you 🥺". Some of them might be more invested or differently prioritized than others but none of them are happy, just, differing levels of being upset haha. The "iron fist" really comes down on regulating you, from what you to how you brush your hair to what goes in it and even how you sleep. Getting enough vitamins and minerals in your body while good rest is important, so, not only do they have to male sure you're eating and not having any deficiencies, but also, Bruce is occasionally checking those hidden cameras to make sure you're fast asleep when you need to be, him and, really anyone who can use the Batcomputer and has the will, tracking your sleeping patterns and seeing if you're sleeping soundly or if there's any nightmares or you're popping awake or, even maybe if your phone and certain things will have to be confiscated for you to rest, IF those are things you even were allowed to have in the first place.

But yeah these guys got me acting totally weird and on some self indulgent personal fantasy shit but ykw if you're subscribed to me you're probably a lil weird too and that's ok 👍

[shutupdont]

beep boop post election thots

Walking to work this morning was fine. Everything felt empty but I wasn't physically upset, just whatever. Get up to work, fine.

Go down to our company's annual benefits fair to set up the table for our LGBTQ+ employee resource group, of which I'm a co-leader. I'm setting up the flags and the stickers and our one-pager describing the group's mission and events.

I'm scheduled to man the table for the first two hours. I make it about twenty minutes before I feel the tears start to come up my throat. A couple people have stopped by but I realize I can't say a single thing that isn't "we're fucked! DEI initiatives, this specific ERG, protections for this specific community, all gone!" so instead I mumbled thru a few "well we just put out our quarterly newsletter and are putting together an event in December featuring a panel of queer people in finance" before they take a sticker and walk along. A couple guys say hi to me but don't stop at the table. I work in finance and realize a lot of the employees that will come through here today likely voted against my rights as a queer woman and were thrilled by last night's results.

I excuse myself and go out to the hall, messaging my co-leader that I need him to come down early or else I'm abandoning the table. I can't do it. I watch over the balcony to the lobby waiting for him to come in and up the escalator. A fellow boston gay, he is very much an enthusiastic people person who loves getting people involved with our group. I grab my stuff, tell him "I just can't, I'm sorry" and rush back upstairs, shut the door to my office and cry.

I live in Massachusetts, I'm safe in most scenarios. But there are people across the country who are not safe. Will immigrants be the first minority group attacked on January 21? How many executive orders will he make before the end of the month? many of his policy plans will require congressional approval (which he has if it's all red) and will be challenged in court (many of which are filled with his appointees).

Today felt different from 2016. Back then, we didn't know exactly what we were getting into. Then, immediately, EOs out the wazoo, most notably that early was the ban on travelers coming from Muslim-majority countries. We all went to the airports. There was a resulting Uber boycott because of it. and then it cascaded like a waterfall of hatred until we got to the pandemic and everything was truly out the window.

Today we have eight years of experience telling us what he is capable of doing. Stephen Miller is gleefully writing up policies as we speak. It's scary. Clarence Thomas will definitely retire on day one and be replaced by a heritage foundation prized pig in his late-forties. Trump is leaving office with a 7-2 conservative court, guaranteed.

Millions of people outside the US will suffer (or continue to suffer) from military and economic policies meant specifically for these people to suffer. Millions of people facing any number of reproductive problems (big ones like laws killing pregnant people for the sake of the fetus, small ones like making birth control inaccessible) are going to have to make plans - travel plans, contraceptive plans (tho many states passed pro-abortion referendums/rejected antis which is excellent news!!). Millions of kids will suffer due to lack of choice when they were just a fetus, due to gutting of the social safety net that the kids and their overwhelmed parents rely on, due to drastic or catastrophic changes to our education system making them less aware of the world and its history, less aware of what those new and awkward feelings they're feeling are and how to address them in a safe space, and most importantly, will not know how to read. Kids will also suffer under the anti-vaccine mandates. Kids will suffer when gender identity and sexual orientation are removed from any space they may be in, so they'll be suffering in silence because of fear and lack of access to necessary healthcare and community.

This isn't even the half of it. Immigrants, regardless of status. Homeless or housing insecure people. Chronically ill people. Black people facing new and old forms of violent discrimination. Trans adults who need ongoing gender affirming care just to live. These people and so many others are going to suffer.

The election is over, I don't care about going over every possible reason why she lost. She lost. She lost the popular vote ffs.

I am heartbroken for my fellow americans and all of the non-americans who will be hit the hardest by trump's revenge tour.

And more personally ,

After election night in 2016, I drank a lot. I didn't do my dishes and eventually just threw them all away. I got in severe credit card debt. I was doing any drug offered by a friend at a party or an employee at a bar who kept a stash behind the cleaning supplies under the bathroom sink. I was also starting to hate my job. All of this compounded by my depression going untreated and growing worse with the seasons changing.

Today, I am six years sober. I dabble in marijuana edibles to mellow out. The credit card debt situation has..... evolved. I'm in therapy. Im six years into a medication regime that has saved my life. I love my job. I've grown up a lot over the past eight years but my reaction to this much impending doom is still hard to cull together professionally.

jfc I didn't even mention gun control, or fossil fuels, or corporate taxes, or tariffs!!! or the flying cars thing or the elon musk of it all.

I am trying to stay on the wagon by playing disney dreamlight valley on my lil switch, baking treats for my coworkers, redecorating my book shelves for the fall season, and saving up some money to help with gofundmes and mutual aid projects that will become vital soon.

also MA voters rejected the legalization of psychedelics for medical use so that's no longer an option!!!

If u made it this far, you didn't have to, this was more of a diary entry than a thoughtful blog post. If u made it this far, I love you and hope you're getting on okay so far.