#this is basically a gays only event

[theactualsunshinechild]

I think Aventio and Screwtio shippers shouldn't fight. After all, Ratio has two hands!

That's right. Two hands.

One for his chalk.

One for his codex.

Both of which he's holding in an embarrassed death grip as they chat away with each other about him.

[maxghoulfield]

therapist: "...and are you only gentle with yourself when you're trying to self soothe after punishing yourself for mistakes?"

me:

[cowboyhorsegirl]

Steve is most likely to end up in a lavender marriage and Tony's most likely to end up in a “married for tax/immigration/inheritance fraud” reasons.

They meet as married men and pine for each other hardcore and are also trying not to read too much into how their interest seems reciprocated and oh nooooo both Immigration/the IRS and the the Church/in-laws/DADT era army dudes or whatever are snooping around at the same time at each of their marriages and they have to be so good at being married at the people they are married to oh noooooo and they other guy doesn’t know why they are suddenly being iced out and maybe they were just imagining things? maybe it’s for the best with all these eyes around on them…

[mqonlighting]

real talk in the tags for a second because i have a crush on a girl and i. a hehe. ahehehe.

will be burying this in reblogs and never touching on it again

[floorpancakes]

imagine rei in the reicket. and the reans

[fandomsandfeminism]

Yall wanna hear a kinda funny, kinda sad story about my grandmother and hetero-normativity?

Ok, so... when my grandmother was in her 50s (I was an infant), she met a woman at the Unitarian Church. And, as can happen when you meet your soul mate, this event made it impossible for her to deny parts of herself that she had fiercely hidden her whole life.

All the drama- their affair being found out, the divorce with my grandfather, the court battle over who got the house, happened while I was a baby. Even in my earliest memories, it's just Mama Jo and Oma, and my grandfather lived elsewhere (first his own apartment, then a nursing home, then with us.)

But here's the thing- no one ever explained any of this to me. No one ever sat down and was like "hey, Rosie, so do you know what a lesbian is?" It was the 90s. It was Texas. I think my mom was still kinda processing all this, and just assumed that like... I was gonna figure it out. Don't mention it, let it just be normal. Like I think my mom thought that if she explained the situation, she would be making it weird? I dunno.

But like. In the 90s, in all the movies I had seen and books I had read, do you know how many same sex couples I had seen? Like. 0. Do you know how many "platonic best friend/roommates" I had seen? A lot. I had no context, is what I'm saying.

I literally thought this was a Golden Girls, roommates, besties situation until I was like...I dunno, 11? 12?

It was actually their parrot, an African Grey named Spike, imitating my grandmothers voice saying "Johanna, honey, it's getting late", that triggered the MIND BLOWN moment as I realized that *there's only one master bedroom and it only has 1 waterbed* when all the pieces finally clicked.

Anyway. I think it's a real important thing for kids to know queer people exist, for a lot of reasons, but also because kids can be clueless and it's embarrassing to have your grandmother be outted by a parrot because everyone just thought you'd figure it out on your own.

Anyway, here is my grandma and her wife, my Oma, after they moved to Albuquerque to be artsy gay cowboys and live their best life. They helped run a "Lesbian Dude Ranch" out there (basically just with funding and financial support. As Oma has explained "traditionally, most lesbians don't have a lot of money" so they wrote the checks and let the younger ladies actually run the ranch.)

[billiewena]

FOUR YEARS SINCE NOV 5TH, 2020, as summed up by Supernatural

past recaps: year one / year two / year three / year four

full context and sources below:

various explanations + resources/sources/extra reading on this year's recap:

balls deep: misha collins says the quiet part out loud at Cross Roads 8 Supernatural Convention, saying "if the CW wasn't so homophobic dean and cas would've been balls deep for sure" at a con (x) (x) (x)

garthbenny canon: supernatural actors DJ Qualls (who played hunter-turned-werewolf Garth Fitzgerald) and Ty Olsson (who played the vampire Benny Lafitte) reveal they're married, delighting crack shippers like myself everywhere (x)

spn spooky picture book: official supernatural children's picture book is released, retconning things like john winchester as a happy father figure and castiel being their cowardly childhood friend who sorta hangs around (x) (x)

boop button: tumblr introduces a feature people enjoy for once for april fool's day and halloween and allows users to boop each other, spn bloggers re-awake like sleeper agents to use it in full force (x) (x)

bedlund speaks on destiel: former spn writer ben edlund goes on a tweet fest replying to fans, talking about destiel multiple times including this profound tweet (x)

clear text, not subtext: jensen speaks out again on the confession at Purcon 8, this time taking a more open stance on how the relationship was textual, his take on dean's feelings about cas's feelings, and how the scene with cas deserved a resolution (x)

bury your gays: famed author chuck tingle (known for his plethora of highly specific and delightfully inclusive, if strange, indie erotica novels) publishes his second mainstream horror novel, inspired by TV network studios' infamous history of censoring LGBT relationships and openly killing off queer characters. In a non-subtle nod to supernatural fans, the main character is named misha. (sidenote: did end up reading this and this book is actually really good commentary on the industry in general and really good, 10/10 recommend) (x) also someone got the book signed by misha, to further break the fourth wall (x)

tracker: jensen ackles begins starring in a CBS show where he is basically csoplaying dean winchester, with the show featuring many non-subtle spn references (i.e. him pretending to almost get in an impala before going to his truck, characters wearing spn necklaces, etc.) (x) (x) (x) (special shout-out to clarice @youre-only-gay-once for expertly tracking the tracker show and these easter eggs, highly recommend their tag for their show)

cw's walker cancelled: fans rejoiced upon hearing the cancellation news for jared's post-supernatural show, walker, a remake of "walker texas ranger." in addition to generally being a copaganda show for the notoriously racist texas rangers, jared's inspiration for the show's direction caused much concern. the actor himself said the show was inspired by the US border crisis, not by the immigrant families affected by the separation and internment, but instead wanting exploring the POV of the law enforcement agents working at the border and the moral dilemmas they had to face (x)

pro-destiel Wonder Woman: Lynda Carter (aka the iconic and beloved original actress for Wonder Woman, not the z*onist one) says she could "go for some Destiel" when promoting #GeeksandNerdsforHarrisWalz and Misha's involvement (x) the rest of the spn cast and original Showrunner Kripke were also a big part of this event

chili's backfire: the chain restaurant chili's drags destiel while interacting with 9-1-1 bucktommy shippers on twitter, immediately gets backfire. notably, their stock takes a dip the next day. coincidence? maybe so, maybe not (x) (x)

samgirl voting fraud: "who is the gayest spn character" tumblr poll surprisingly gets heated, with a blogger straight-up admitting they used a bot on the "castiel vs. sam" poll to rig the poll in sam's favor, which they apparently also did for w*ncest in another poll in the past, and posting a guide on how anyone could do the same. luckily democracy wins in this one instance and castiel prevails anyways, leading to an also contested "castiel vs. charlie bradbury" round (x) (x)

pink pony jarpad: jared is spotted at lesbian pop star chappell roan's set at a festival, un-likely place for him to be (x) also may have been one of the "boring" people called out by chappell? (x)

pro-kamala castiel: in a last-ditch effort to get out the vote, misha uses the power of castiel photo ops to campaign for harris-walz and even shouts-out destiel. I feel depressed writing this sentence, if you've made it this long in your read and you're in the states I hope you're doing alright! maybe by the time I wake up things will be a little different though. (x)

[drchucktingle]

I watched the 2004 Klaus Nomi documentary and his story reminded me of how you talk about creativity and being genuine. The interviewees talked about how the first time he performed with the persona Klaus Nomi at a vaudeville-style variety show in NYC in the 70s, everyone was stunned. Several of the people describing this event mentioned how the show was meant to be ironic, everyone was doing nudge-wink joking acts and goofing around, the audience/scene was apparently very cynical, but he got up and took it seriously. He was earnest, he was himself, and after a frozen moment of silence, everyone went crazy.

THANK YOU yes this is very reminiscent of what the journey of my career has been like, and this particular trot makes me very proud. all of the buckaroos who mean a lot to me artistically, from the andys (andy kaufman and andy warhol) to the davids (david byrne and david lynch) have had similar ways from 'strange' outsider to legend.

was talkin with some buds about how i think there is possibly a connection between this and my autism trot. there is a sort of ability to see a path that nobody else takes but say to yourself 'that makes sense to me, i do not really care if nobody else takes this path'. others can be bogged down with the 'right' way of doing something

so really being ridiculed like i have is this beautiful artistic TROJAN HORSE, where initially very few people take you seriously but they still let you in. they let you trot around in their brain for a while and very slowly they start to get it.

i think it also goes to show how much art is in PERCEPTION of the creator (i talk on this a lot already but this is very good example). look at something like SPACE RAPTOR BUTT INVASION getting nominated for hugo award. EVERYONE said some variation of 'this is obviously a joke and making fun of gay people and autistic people and erotica itself' and on and on. buds on the left said this, buds on the right said this. it was VICIOUS. and all the while i said 'no this is real serious art and i am doing something that goes outside of the way you see the medium itself' and that just made people MORE MAD.

but now looking back, when i presently have award winning best selling books from major publishers and so on, it is easier to see that the erotic tingleverse, as a whole, is a valid piece of art and expression that resonates with a lot of people.

really the only thing that changed was the perception of ME as a creator

anyway. i am proud of my art and where i sit in the world of artists. i like being a sort of chaotic queer punk rock force. so i cannot complain really

i will say this though. this is all a PERFECT example of how queer and neurodivergent artists have to go above and beyond to even get basic respect from both the left and the right

the years of saying 'i am serious. i am real' the years of taking vitriol, or being constantly made fun of are PERSONALLY okay with me. i am a tough buckaroo. in a strange way, that story is kind of part of the art in itself. HOWEVER we still have to acknowledge that a straight neurotypical person would NEVER have to constantly prove themselves like i have.

i dream of a world where queer and autistic artists are not harassed by one side and gatekept by the other, and believe it or not i think we are moving in a good direction. there is still a LOT OF WORK to go though

fortunately, i think there are easy ways to help. you can support outsider artists you like by reading or listening or just buying their art and puttin it on your shelf (PREORDER LUCKY DAY BY CHUCK TINGLE HERE). but ALSO, if you are an outsider yourself JUST CREATING IS SO POWERFUL. build and craft and speak your unique way into the universe. FILL THIS SPACE WITH YOUR UNIQUE WAY. THAT is how we prove love is real.

see that path that makes since to you but nobody else is willing to try? take it

[drdemonprince]

I have heard from many trans and/or Autistic queer people that they like the idea of casual, anonymous sex of the sort that happens in the gay bathhouse, or the park marked on the Sniffies map, but they fear they will never be able to access it themselves. 

They assume that a trans person won’t ever be welcome, or that because they do not read neurotypical social cues with ease, the cruising ecosystem will forever remain inscrutable to them. Many harbor concerns about safety, having only ever been taught by movies and Law & Order episodes to associate cruising with seediness, criminality, and “threatening” male sexuality. 

I’m here to tell you that none of those impressions are accurate. Trans people are in the cruising spaces. We have always been there, we helped to shape these hidden corners and dusty backrooms into what they are, and for the vast majority of cruising patrons, our presence is not only welcome, but totally blasé. There are even trans-specific cruising nights in many areas! (See the bottom of this article for a list of Chicago-based ones!)

And though getting acclimated to the social norms of the sauna (or dungeon, or cruising bar) might seem confusing at first, it’s quite easy to study and mimic, even if you’re disabled. In many ways, it’s refreshingly more direct than most other forms of socializing. The cruising spot can be an arena for vanquishing shame, if you let it. 

Finally, it is important to note that it’s the seediness and secrecy of a cruising space that makes it so safe — it’s a self-policing community of queer people who respect the location, rely upon it, and who look after one another without the intruding eye of the straight public or the cops. 

If you’re queer and neuroweird and horny and you’re contemplating cruising, there is a place for you. You just have to overcome your understandable anxieties, study up on common cruising practices, and then venture forth to give it a try (maybe with a buddy the first time). 

In this piece, I will lay out some basic principles for cruising as a trans or Autistic person (though I think this advice applies broadly to anyone who feels a little out of place in cruising spots, which is everyone at first), explain the finer points of visiting backrooms, saunas, and parks specifically, and then I’ll wrap up with a list of resources for readers looking to find a cruising spot in their area. I’ll also close out with a list of cruising-related events in Chicago that are specifically T4T or sapphic in nature, because frankly, us gay dudes are wildly overrepresented in the scene. 

The full essay is free to read (or have narrated to you in the Substack app!) at drdevonprice.substack.com

[joejhang]

fanon neil vs canon neil

god i am so FUCKING done with the aftg fandom mischaracterising neil i'm literally writing fucking ESSAYS about it and pacing circles muttering about it under my breath it's driving me up the goddamn wall so i am going to word vomit brain dump yap about all of it in an incoherent tumblr text post. spoilers ahead continue at ur own risk

i've said it before and i'll say it again I HATE FANON NEIL. istg this fandom LOVES to mischaracterise neil and ykw i think i know why. they take the smallest most unnoticeable parts of his personality and then exaggerate them to disproportionate and unrealistic levels in order for him to fit their idea of a conventional, stereotypical and desirable main character. they smooth out his jagged edges and prick at his "insecurities" to make him more likeable, more acceptable and more conventional of a narrator/main character and in doing so erase so fucking much of his personality and draw as a character that he loses just about all of the flavour that made me love him in canon. and also especially within the andreil dynamic this fucking fandom just loves to tweak neil's character until he's basically unrecognisable just so they can cram andreil into some preconceived socially acceptable clichéd ship dynamic. because andrew is perceived as the typical mysterious, moody and grumpy love interest therefore neil just has to be the sunshiney smiley blushing cute softboy in exchange. yeah because all gay ships have to be grumpy-sunshine and black cat-golden retriever dynamic. i raise you: andreil's dynamic doesn't work because of their differences it works because of their similarities. if u think about it andrew and neil are honestly very similar people in the way they think and process emotions and events and that's what allows them to connect and understand each other. andreil would not work if neil was super sunshiney and a blushy soft mess and andrew was the stoic, never smiling, unemotional stone of a guy the fandom loves to make them. just accept they do not fit into the conventional boxes laid out by booktok for what gay ships look like. i fucking digress.

neil is also just insanely mischaracterised on his own. people love making him very jittery and insanely oblivious and easily flustered with a generous serving of self-esteem issues. i hate to break it to you guys: neil josten is not insecure. i don't think there's a single instant in the series where neil is actually insecure about anything. as a narrator, person and character, neil is very realistic, pragmatic and logical. ruthlessly so. i'd say on this, neil is even more cerebral and unemotional than andrew is. neil is very straightforward and realistic abt himself in his narration and i'd honestly say his opinion and views about himself are one of the only things in the story that isn't affected by his narrator bias. if neil is anything, it's self-aware. i'm now going to present all my fucking evidence.

neil doesn't have a sexuality crisis. literally in the entire series never once does he even question his fucking sexuality. it's implied he's already figured out he's aspec/demisexual from the moment nicky questions him about his sexuality. neil says "i don't swing" and follows up in his narration: it wasn't quite the truth, but it was close enough. and later when he starts his relationship with andrew he doesn't ever question the nature of his feelings towards andrew or even anyone else and is pretty clear about it when andrew breaches the topic: "kissing you doesn't make me look at them any differently" so yeah neil is pretty certain and aware of his sexuality.

neil isn't insecure about his appearance. i feel like this is gonna require a bit of work to explain but hear me out. it is mentioned several times that neil has a complicated relationship with his appearance because he looks so much like his father/abuser. this is obviously understandable; you wouldn't want to look into the mirror and see the man who gave u all ur scars. that being said, neil doesn't have a lot of strong emotions regarding his appearance. most of his feelings of panic tied to when r*ko dyed back his hair is because of how it would be a lot easier for his father to discover him now that he has his original colouring back. i'm also pretty sure neil knows that he's cute. like it's never explicitly stated but i've reread aftg maybe fifty times and trust me i can read between the lines. neil explicitly says that he has a "love-hate relationship with his reflection out of necessity" and while the "hate" part of that statement is obvious: he doesn't like that he resembles his father, i've sort of just accepted that the "love" part of it is that he knows he's kinda fine. it's not brought up by him at all bc neil as a person is not one to linger on people's appearances almost at all. i think the only people to get a decent amount of lines dedicated to their appearance in the narration are allison and andrew. but yeah i genuinely don't think neil thinks he's ugly or unattractive and he's probably definitely been told how cute he is by others enough that he doesn't harbour any delusions about how he looks. regarding his scars, he never expresses any insecurity towards them and how they look, he just doesn't like them on display understandably bc of how acutely they point to his past and childhood that he's trying to hide.

neil is actually very very confident in his own and other people's abilties. this is esp regarding exy. he knows he's good at the game. like he knows. the most distinct example i can think of for this point is when kevin tells neil that he was at castle evermore to try out for the perfect court when they were younger. neil doesn't even doubt for a fucking second that he would've made it onto the perfect court. never does. he skips over the second-guessing and doubt part and just straight up starts daydreaming about the future he could've had playing with kevin and r*ko. like that really got me bc it's easy to assume neil would be super unassuming and have low self-esteem but no like neil doesn't doubt for a fucking second that he deserves to be perfect court. it's just that he doesn't believe in r*ko's delusions enough to play along with it by the time he gets the tattoo. he's also insanely confident about the foxes and their abilities and also kevin by the end of the series. at the beginning he takes a pretty realistic vantage point and says that with the way things are, the foxes will never beat the ravens. but even with that pov he still has the gall to challenge r*ko on LIVE TV and i doubt he's lying when he declares so boldly to everyone that if the foxes were united they'd be an unstoppable force (and guess what he was fucking RIGHT). and by the end, when the foxes are united, he has no more room left for doubt at all. some guy tells neil to kick the ravens' asses and neil just replies with zero hesitation "that's the plan". like he's so fucking on board with it. and he never once doubts that kevin is the best striker in the game. like literally never. at first he considers r*ko and kevin on par with each other (possibly, it's never stated outright) but by the end he literally has no doubts when he says "kevin is the best striker" like goddamn the amount of confidence neil has is so underrated.

neil is a very unemotional narrator. it actually gets me all the time how logical and ruthlessly pragmatic neil's narration and inner monologue is. some of the only strong emotions portrayed in neil's narration are anger, irritation and occasionally grief, which is only ever triggered by major trauma-inducing events (e.g. dr*ke). almost all of his inner monologue is analytical and observing others and dissecting either other people or the situation he's in. and almost all of his decisions and actions are made based on impulse and instinct. neil is a very instinctive person. this is outright stated in the way he plays exy; in theory, he can't give u a lot, but in the heat of the moment he's at his best. this applies to practically all facets of neil's life. he never plans his moves or what he's gonna say (except like that one time when he planned out what half-truth he was gonna tell andrew post-columbia). he's super quick and on the ball and literally does whatever the fuck he wants at any given moment. he's also insanely good at compartmentalising. like it's difficult to explain but while his priorities are obv hilariously skewed, they're also very clear in his mind. things he considers unimportant he simply just doesn't think about. what others look like and what they think of him don't factor into his internal monologue or his thoughts at all he literally just files them away in the back of his mind until they do end up becoming useful or important to him. he barely comments on andrew's appearance at all until andrew becomes someone worth staring at and admiring for him. the only reason he describes allison and renee in the detail that he does is because it's important in understanding how and why he reacts to them the way he does. this man was literally about to lose his goddamn mind at the fall banquet but he specifically reserved his mental breakdown for after the banquet so he could spend his time roasting the fuck out of r*ko. bro fully locked in and was like "clock riko now break down later" and i respect it.

neil doesn't actually have a martyr complex. it's funny because almost all of aftg is him being the absolute fucking opposite of a martyr. he wilfully sticks around the foxes knowing he's putting himself and them in danger. he doesn't "sacrifice" himself until he's absolutely forced to by his father's people. by then, he's already told himself he can't and won't run and he's smart enough to know he'll never get away anyway. and going to evermore wasn't about self-sacrifice or martyrdom it was about protecting andrew and those two are pretty fucking different. he knew he was coming back from evermore and he knew that he wouldn't die there, despite all the shit he went through, so i don't think that can be counted as "self-sacrifice". he was doing what he had to do to protect andrew, the same as andrew would've done for neil or aaron or kevin or anyone else he'd sworn to protect. the kidnapping in baltimore was the culmination of neil's character arc, which isn't really about learning to be selfless and self-sacrificing, it's about learning to stand his ground and stop running. those things r crucially different: neil not running in baltimore wasn't about selflessness, it was about courage. yes, part of it was obviously inspired by the foxes and motivated by not wanting them to be hurt but i truly believe it ultimately was about neil learning to stand his own ground and make his own home and have it be something he's willing to die for. call it whatever u want honestly i just don't think neil is as much of a martyr/sacrificial lamb as the fandom makes him out to be.

[futureperfectchanges]

The Pride Pin

"Have you got a little rainbow flag? Or maybe a rainbow handkerchief?" Edward asked the man behind the counter. He was on his way to a gay wedding and had seen a large pride flag in the window of this store which had given him an idea. "Basically something that I could put into my breast pocket for a wedding i'm going to." Before quickly adding: "To show my support to the grooms that is."

"Ah, how nice, although I'm afraid I only have large flags at the moment, but I do have a few pins left over from Pride, would one of those work for you?" replied the shopkeeper as he pointed to a box a little further down the counter.

"Looks perfect" Edward said as he picked up one of the pins.

"Just to check - you did say you wanted it to show you're an ally of the gay community didn't you? It's just that some of the items in this store can be a little, well, unpredictable, so just wanted to be clear about things before you try it on."

"Of course" Edward lied.

In truth Edward hadn't wanted to go to this wedding at all. He worked with one of the guys getting married, John. They had joined a law firm at the same time so had met during their induction and had been good friends for a while - at least until John had come out as gay and started dating guys. Edward was glad that John was happy, but had since mostly avoided hanging out together unless it was a work event. He had gone to one dinner soon after John's engagement to his boyfriend, Miguel, but had spent the whole meal feeling embarrassed. Everyone else at the table had been so obviously gay and they had made no attempt to talk quietly, so he was sure all the surrounding tables had been judging him all evening.

When Edward had received the invite to the wedding he had initially planned to decline it. What had changed his mind was the fact that a lot of John's straight female friends were going to be there, and with most of the other guys at the wedding being gay, it was almost guaranteed that he would hook up with one of the girls. He hoped that the pride pin was going to be the 'icing on the cake' with regards to getting attention from the girls. How could they turn down a guy who was so supportive of his friend? With any luck he would be back at home with a lady before the happy couple had even cut the cake.

"Here, let me put it on for you" the shopkeeper offered.

Edward had intended on keeping the pin out of sight until he had entered the wedding, but he didn't want to offend the shopkeeper so let him reach over and place the pin on his lapel - he'd just take if off as soon as he left the store.

Edward looked at the mirror behind the counter and his first thought was to worry that the pin might make the girls at the wedding think he was gay too. He started to wonder if it was a bad idea, and as if to confirm that he felt the pin prick his chest. Soon after he felt another prick and he wondered if the shopkeeper had failed to cover the back of the pin properly. When he started to feel more and more pricks on his chest, and not just where the pin was, he began to worry that something was wrong.

Edward felt like he was being stabbed with needles all across his chest and he felt like he had no choice but to pull his jacket off. He didn't know what was going on, but he needed to stop whatever was causing the pain.

Edward was confused. He had taken off his jacket and the pricking sensations had stopped, but when he looked down at his chest he didn't understand what he was looking at as it. What he first saw on his chest was a mix of colors that hadn't previously been there. It was as though someone had covered his chest in paint.

"¿Cómo?" Edward said aloud whilst continuing to stare at his chest. He had never had a tattoo so didn't understand what he was looking at. As he reached up to rub off whatever was on his chest it quickly dawned on him that the colors were not going to come off easily.

"What is this? Is this a tattoo? How do I get this off?" Edward asked in increasingly frantic tones, all with a slight Spanish accent. He had been so fixed on the new tattoos that he hadn't noticed that the rest of his body had taken on a subtle tan.

The shopkeeper didn't reply, he knew that if an item from his shop was not used as intended it could cause a little confusion for the customer, so he just waited to see what would happen.

"What is going on? And what's wrong with my voice?" Edward asked as he started to get angry. "I'm a dancer at Infernos nightclub and if you want to see me shake my ass... wait... no I meant to say i'm a dancer, no a dancer..." Edward had wanted to tell the shopkeeper that he was a lawyer at a powerful law firm and would kick his ass if he didn't fix what was going on but he didn't seem able to get the right words out.

Whilst Edward's mind tried to deal with what was going on, he started to wonder what sort of options he had to get rid of the tattoo, or what he could do just to cover it up. It was then that he looked back at the mirror and realised how much else had changed across his body. His heart sank as he knew there was no way he could cover everything up.

Edward sighed as he thought again about what to do with the tattoos, but was then confused. Why was he thinking of covering them up? He loved showing them off. He had spent so much of his life hiding who he was, but now there was no one who was going to stop him from being his true self. He was Eduardo - a proud Latino twink.

Eduardo felt the jacket he was holding and then remembered that he had come in to buy a new shirt. "Hey, do you have any dress shirts?" he smiled as he asked the storekeeper. "My best friend is marrying some fancy lawyer today and I want to look good for the occasion!"

[superbatsbison]

Bruce dating trans man Reader

You guys met early in your transition.

You were hesitant to go out with him because you didn't know how he'd react.

Baby, he already knew before he decided to pursue you.

Bruce would constantly reassure you that he was dating you man to man.

Before he ever touched you somewhere or called you a term of endearment, he'd ask if it was okay.

He made sure to always respect your boundaries and give you what you needed.

When it was time to meet Alfred, you were scared of what he would think.

He was older and Bruce's father figure, so you imagined a lot of bad outcomes.

However, he just smiled and assured you that he had met many trans people over his lifetime.

And he has a fruit cup of a son *points in Bruces direction* so the whole lgbt thing isn't exactly new.

Over the years, your relationship progressed, and you also progressed in your transition.

You made the decision to start testosterone and get top surgery.

Bruce made sure you had the best doctors and surgeons in the world (literally) at your disposal.

As your voice got deeper, he'd be sure to praise the beautiful sound.

His favorite thing would be making you moan low in his ear.

He loved how sensitive you got as a result of testosterone and bottom growth.

Needless to say, he kept you in the bedroom whenever he could.

Other than railing you into the mattress, though 🤚🏼

He also likes to help you in other ways.

You two would often train together down in the cave.

It's an outlet to deal with the effects of testosterone and also helps you bulk up.

Bruce mainly likes the view of his sweaty boyfriend in a tank top and shorts.

Another favorite activity of his is going shopping with you for events.

He insists you both can't wear the same suit twice, but really, he just likes to watch you try them on and get fitted.

God forbid you wear a button up with the sleeves rolled to your elbow because you WILL get mauled by that 6'2 behemoth. 🙏🏼

Speaking of galas, though, Bruce is always acting like your glorified guard dog at said events.

They're mostly populated with old rich people, so you're bound to get a snarky comment from time to time.

Either about you being trans or you and Bruce being a gay couple.

It doesn't really bother you anymore because you're very self-confident.

Bruce is next to you vibrating at a frequency that could shatter glass, though.

He makes sure they're near tears by the time he's done chewing them out.

Then, they're permanently blacklisted from every upper echelon event in Gotham.

It only gets worse when the kids start coming along.

Soon, your lone guard dog turns into an entire pack.

The kids didn't need much explaining on the matter.

Except maybe Cass and Damian.

After they got the basics down, though, they were fully supportive.

You're their dad. You've given them unconditional love and support.

Obviously, they'll do the same.

It makes you very emotional to look at the family you've created.

In your early twenties you felt so alone and aimless.

Unsure if you would ever even live the life you wanted.

But now you have a loving husband and amazing children.

All while being the man you were always meant to be.

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

La vie en Amour 🩷

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

This is inspired by my Renaissance!Leon hcs that I did last Novemeber! You all loved it so much, and I did say I'd make a full story, so here it is!

I hope you enjoy 😚

♠︎

《Content》: NSFW. proceed with caution. Breast worship. PiV. creampie. Semi public sex? (They fuck in a carriage). Disgustingly in love individuals. So much love. Sickening. Sapphics. R's chamber maid is gay af. Basically a fantasy version of the Renaissance Era.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

As the wife of Duke Kennedy, it's not unusual for you to attend events. Your husband, as doting as ever, insists to dress you up himself. What is unusual, however, is the two of you having a quick, passionate romp on your way to the ball <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

"Which gown would you like to wear tonight, my lady?" Your maid, Rosalinde, asked while you were sat at your vanity.

Your fingers smoothed over your skin, working in the herb-infused oil.

The pleasant smell hit your nose, leaving a faint taste on your tongue. You smiled, looking at Rosalinde through the mirror.

"The light pink one with the lace. Just like the roses he gave me." You sighed dreamily, the pad of your thumb brushing against one of the many soft petals of the luscious bouquet that decorated your vanity.

She returned a sweet smile of her own, giving you a nod before dismissing herself to prepare your gown.

You were clothed in a soft, silken rob, waiting for your bath. You'd been invited to a grand ball this evening, and as the Duchess and Wife of Duke Kennedy, you had every plan to show the best side of yourself at such an extravagant event.

In the background you could pick up the sound of your bathtub being filled with bucket after bucket of steaming water.

Your fingers moved down your neck to massage in the oil, and through the mirror, you caught a glimpse of Rosalinde, watching, admiring you, partially hidden by the door frame.

You locked gazes, and she shyed away quickly, but a warm feeling rose on your cheeks and inside your chest.

The smell of lavender, honey, and creamy milk lingered in the air, signaling that your bath must be ready.

Your husband spoiled you, insisting you only get the best and most luxurious treatment.

You were hopelessly in love, daydreaming of how you would dance tonight, his gentle touches and a soft smile that never failed to have your heart oozing out of your ribcage, coating your insides.

You were pulled out of your love-induced fantasies by Rosalinde as she came to stand by your side.

"You may take your bath now, your grace." She spoke, an ever so gentle and calm tone to her voice.

You figured she'd collected herself but you could see the faintest hint of pink on her face.

"Thank you, my dear." You replied warmly, walking beside her on your way to your bath chamber.

Steam was rising from the tub, thickening the air.

She helped you out of your robe, her fingers grazing your shoulders. The touch made you sigh quietly, a pleasant feeling crawling up your spine.

You carefully stepped into the bath, sinking into the aromatic water with a relieved hum. You were evenloped by warmth and calming smells, the tension in your flesh slowly melting away.

Rosalinde settled behind you, attending to your hair.

Brushes, combs, oils, her fingers scratching your scalp. All of it made your eyes fall shut as you reveled in the comfort of your bath.

"Have you picked your jewels yet, my lady?" She asked quietly as not to disturb your peace.

A smile stretched over your face.

"The Duke insists he pick them himself." You heard your most trusted chamber maid chuckle behind you.

"Has he? He is quite smitten with you. Even as your husband." She responded, amused.

You giggled, dragging your hand through the water.

"I'm truly lucky to have him." You spoke softly.

A beat of comfortable silence fell over the room before Rosalinde spoke again.

"I wish to have such a blooming love like you and the Duke have once in my life." Your expression softened, and you turned your head to look at her, gently reaching your hand up to your shoulders and grasping hers in your palm.

"And you will, dear girl. I know you will. Although it feels torturous to have patience, it will be worth it." You said softly, hoping the sincerity in your words wasn't lost on her.

Your maid gave you a small smile, a flustered chuckled escaping her lips.

"Thank you, your grace. You are far too gentle and have a soul that is much too kind to be a noble. You're a true conundrum." Rosalinde chuckled, making you laugh softly.

Your heartfelt conversation was interrupted by a knock on your chamber doors.

Her hands slipped from your hair, and she dismissed herself with a mumbled excuse, rising to her feet and hastily walking to the door.

Your brows were furrowed in confusion. Who would knock at this hour?

All your tasks for the day were done, and everyone knew you'd be out of the house tonight. Surely there couldn't be an emergency?

You frowned slightly, hoping it wasn't a servant stumbling over his words to summon you to the council for more Duchessly duties.

Rosalinde came back with a smile, the door just out of your eyesight.

"The Duke wishes to see you, my lady."

A soft and playful roll of your eyes accompanied by a chuckle echoed through the room.

"All this time and he still asks. Of course he can see me." You replied with a smile, sitting up in the tub.

She nodded and quickly made her way back to the door, returning with your husband just a moment later.

"My darling wife." Leon announced, a soft expression on his features.

You lit up, pulling yourself out of the water, hands grasping the edge of the bathtub. Rosalinde rushed over to you and offered you her hand to steady you.

Rivulets of water and oil were running down the curves of your bare body, your skin shining. You stood at your full height and carefully stepped over the edge of the tub.

From the corner of your vision, you could've sworn you saw Rosalinde blush, her eyes admiring your glistening breasts before she quickly averted her eyes.

You glanced over at her.

"Thank you, Rosa. Go rest. I'll call for you if needed." You said kindly, watching as she nodded quickly and scurried off.

Both you and Leon watched her leave before he stepped forward.

"My Venus." He whispered, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, his arms resting on your slick waist.

You smiled into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck. He didn't care that his shirt got soaked, all he wanted was to hold you.

You rested your forehead against his, your lips brushing occasionally.

"You truly know the way to a woman's heart." You giggled.

He cracked a smile and huffed softly.

"I know the way to your heart." He muttered, placing one peck after the other on your lips.

You squealed softly, trying to push him away, your hands flat on his chest.

"Let's get you dried off. We need to get you ready for that ball, hm? I know you'll look positively ravishing." Leon nosed at your neck, letting his lips graze your collarbone before pulling away.

The water on your skin had dried to a dull sheen.

"Oh, you'll get me ready, will you?" You asked amused, making your way towards your husband who was holding open a large linen cloth, ready to dry you.

"Do you doubt me, my love?" A sly grin sitting on his face.

You rolled your eyes, turning your back to him as he covered you in the linen, holding you in an embrace simultaneously.

"I would never. Pray and tell, why do I have maids when you want to do everything yourself?" He chuckled softly.

"I enjoy pampering you, dear. Can a husband not love on his wife?" Leon pressed a kiss to your cheek.

"No shame in that. But what will my girls do all day? They'll bore to death." You leaned your head back, resting it against his shoulder.

"They can attend to you when I've had my fill." He hummed, rubbing his hands up and down your arms to dry them off.

"And when will that be?" You chuckled, smiling.

"When I'm dead."

"Oh, you!" You scolded, slapping his arm while he only broke into laughter.

"Get yourself dry. I'll pick out your jewels in the meantime." He spoke softly, stifling a chuckle when you huffed, a pout on your lips.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You stepped out in your cotton chemise, the fabric brushing loosely against your skin.

Leon was hunched over your vast collection of jewelery, touching the cooling precious stones and metals. He turned at the sound of your feet on the floor, greeting you with a smile.

"There you are. Come, sit." He beckoned, motioning to your bed.

With a soft chuckle you situated yourself on the cushy layers of feathers and silk.

He knelt down on one knee in front of you, pushing up the hem of your chemise, slipping one of your stockings on your leg and pressing a kiss to your knee.

The other went on in the same fashion, and he took his time carefully tying a ribbon around them so they wouldn't shift or fall down all evening.

You smiled down at him gently, your heart swelling at the softness he was displaying.

Your hands stroked his sandy locks, coming down to caress his cheek.

"You still need to get ready yourself." You muttered, sighing when he dragged his hands up your thighs, grasping your hips.

"And here I was looking forward to dressing you like my own little doll." He chuckled lowly.

"I'll let you put on all the jewels. But I don't need my laces coming undone in the middle of the dance floor." You smirked, laughing when he huffed and lightly jabbed you in the side.

You cupped his chin and lifted his head towards you.

"You clean up nicely, my love. Go on." You spoke softly, placing a kiss to his lips, urging him to get dressed himself.

Leon hummed contently, pulling away and rising from his knees.

"You'll save the good things for me?" He asked, his thumb stroking over your cheekbone.

"I promise." You smiled, holding his wrist in a gentle grasp.

His gaze softened as he leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.

"Until then." He whispered, the warmth of his touch slipping as he departed to his own chambers.

A soft chuckle escaped you and you glanced at the luscious roses sitting on your vanity before pulling on the tassel that would ring the bell in the servants quarters, successfully calling for Rosalinde.

Just a moment later the door opened and she peaked her head in.

"You called for me, your grace?"

You gave her a smile and beckoned her inside with a wave of your hand.

"Would you be so kind to dress me?" You asked, getting up from your place on the bed.

"But of course, my lady. You needn't ask." She smiled, beginning to whizz around the room to get everything ready.

"But leave my shoes and jewels, will you?"

She stopped and looked at you with a puzzled expression.

"Your grace?"

"Duke's orders."

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

And so, the great cinching began.

First came your stays, the boned structure keeping your bosom secure while also helping with your posture.

Next was any padding such as a bumroll or a crinoline. Whatever you fancied that night.

Now, petticoat after petticoat to build the voluptuous skirt of your gown. Some simple, made from cotton, while the last one was made from silk trimmed with lace.

Rosalinde reached around your waist to tie on your pocket before holding your dress for you to step into.

She laced it in the front, making sure to add an ornately embroidered stomacher.

"You look absolutely wonderful, my lady." Rosalinde sighed, staring at you with awe.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the rich fabrics.

"I feel wonderful. All thanks to you." You smiled softly, catching her eye.

A faint blush dusted her cheeks and she chuckled nervously.

"Oh, please, your grace- Hair?" She said quickly, clearing her throat.

You laughed and nodded.

"Yes, hair."

Rosalinde worked her fingers through your locks, pinning a curl here, brading a stand there.

You watched her through the mirror, taking notice of the concentrated furrow between her brows, making you crack a faint smile.

In the end, your hair was decorated with pearls, ribbons, feathers, whatever your heart desired.

"You did marvously, as always." You smiled widely.

"Thank you, my lady." She replied with a smile.

You stood up from your seat, turning and taking her hands in yours.

"Thank you." You spoke sincerely.

"Of course. Just ring for me when you get back later-"

"We'll manage. You deserve some time for yourself. I'll see you in the morning, please enjoy your evening." You gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

Rosalinde looked stunned, her eyes wide and her lips parted.

"I-... are you sure, your grace? I'm grateful, but-" You chuckled and gently interrupted her.

"Hush. Please, I insist."

"W-Well then. Whatever you wish, my lady." She chuckled nervously, averting her eyes with a shy smile.

You gave her knuckles one last caress before letting her hands slide from your grasp.

"Good. Off you go." You smiled.

Rosalinde nodded with kind expression and made her way to the door, sparing you one glance over her shoulder before she slipped out of the room.

With content sigh, you made your way to the full-length mirror in your chambers.

Your reflection was almost blinding with the amount of pearls and crystals that were sewn onto your gown.

The silk gave off a faint shimmer as you smoothed your hands down the slightly cool material.

The lace on your sleeves brushed against your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

The sound of a distinctive knocking pattern echoed from the heavy wooden door. A smile cracked on your lips, the familiarity and comfort of the signal sitting in your chest.

"Come in." You called out, turning away from the mirror.

The door opened with a creak, and your polished husband stepped inside, a soft smile gracing his features.

"Husband." You greeted gently, meeting him halfway.

His arms wrapped around your waist and he pressed his forehead against yours, his quiet exhale a warm breeze on your face.

"My love. My pearl. My Venus. The light of my life. I never thought it true, but Cupid strikes me with an arrow anew every day. No words a poet could manage to write would be enough to describe how you reign over my heart, soul, and flesh."

His confession tumbled off his lips with ease, making your heart beat faster while the grip on your middle tightened.

Your hand went to cup his face, gently caressing his cheekbone.

"My heart. My sapphire. My Mars. The very air I breathe. The sight of you makes the affection spill between my ribs, and my lips ache for just one more kiss."

A soft huff left Leon before be pulled you in for a kiss so gentle, your bones were ready to melt beneath his touch. You hummed against his lips, a pleasant tingle crawling up your spine.

A firm hand slid up your back to rest between your shoulder blades, closing the distance.

To your dismay, he detached his mouth first, a chuckle leaving him at your protests.

"Why must you tease me so?" You pouted, fixing a stray lock of blond hair.

"I have no ill intent, I assure you. You're simply irresistible, my darling." He purred, nuzzling your neck, making you giggle.

"Alright, alright. Unfortunately, we have a ball to intend to, so your physical affections must wait, my love." You cooed, smoothing your hands down the lapels of his jacket.

"A shame indeed." He hummed, taking your hand and guiding it up to his face to press a kiss to your knuckles.

"However, I believe you were promised something." You spoke gently, stepping to the side to reveal your vanity where your jewels were laid out.

A pair of your shoes were sitting neatly beside the chair, waiting to be danced in. Leon's expression softened, and he pulled you after him.

"I do get to dress my pretty little doll after all, hm?" He smiled, dropping to one knee before you to guide your foot into your shoe.

His grip on your ankle was firm but gentle, leaving you to steady yourself with your hands on his shoulders. The second one went on just as easy.

Before he had a chance to stand back up, you pressed a peck to the top of his head. Leon's hands rested on your hips, his forehead falling against your stomach as he reveled in the tenderness of the moment.

A cloud of gentleness and love seemed to follow the both of you everywhere, leaving the world around you in a pink tint.

With a sigh he rose to his feet, stroking his knuckles down the side of your face with a sugary smile before stepping around you.

The dangling jewels that were your earrings were carefully secured to your lobe, a peck beneath each ear.

Lastly, the necklace he chose, rose quartz and pearls, was draped around your neck and fastened with the clasp before a kiss was placed at the base of your skull.

A gentle hand on your waist turned you to face him, an almost lovesick expression gracing his handsome features.

"Look at you, my angel. As pretty as ever." His words were soft, a quiet truth straight from his heart.

"You're too good to me." You chuckled, pressing one last kiss to his lips.

"The carriage must be ready by now. Shall we, darling?" You asked, resting your hand in the crook of his elbow.

He hummed, amused.

"Are you that eager to leave our little cocoon?" He teased, leading the way to the door.

You let out a soft laugh.

"Not quite. But... I have to show an entire noble society how handsome my husband is." You grinned cheekily, pulling him along while Leon was left laughing with a blush dusted across his cheeks, shaking his head at you.

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The carriage was dimly illuminated, throwing shadows on the intricate fabrics that cushioned the walls.

It was a bumpy ride, the wooden wheels of the vessel having to best rocks, loose cobblestone roads, and mud.

You were seated next to Leon, your hand in his while you occupied yourself with following the swirling pattern of the interior of the carriage.

He was quiet beside you, occasionally glancing out the small window. The rough calloused pads of his fingers traced the bones in your hand, gently caressing the skin.

"Look," Leon said with a small smile, pointing out of the window. "A pair of swans."

You followed his finger, getting up from your seated position and leaning over him while you marveled at the heartwarming picture before you.

"Aren't they precious! Oh, how lovely.." you sighed dreamily, watching as the two lovers swam into the sunset.

Your hand was planted on his shoulder, steadying yourself against the rocking of the carriage.

While you were busy marveling at the picturesque scene unfolding in front of you, Leon's eyes were glued to the glistening skin of your cleavage.

Your stays did wonders for your bosom, keeping them right in his line of sight.

He leaned in, gently nosing at your neck, taking in the irresistible smell of your perfume and of you.

His hands first grasped at your waist, pulling you onto his lap, your legs swung over his.

Your knees were almost up against the door as Leon held you sideways in his arms. You giggled softly, wrapping your arms around him, carding your fingers through the sandy curls at the base of his skull.

Your lover was busy breathing you in, brushing his lips against the exposed swell of your breasts, almost bewitched.

"You smell absolutely wonderful, my darling love..." he said lowly, the words a deep rumble in his throat.

"Yes? I'm wearing that new perfume you gifted me. I take it its gotten your approval?" You grinned slightly, running the pad of your thumb along his soft jawline.

Leon chuckled darkly, placing a firm hand around the back of your neck. The touch wasn't rough, no, it was gentle as always. A mere suggestion instead than a demand.

"You have no idea." He breathed, quickly guiding your head towards his, connecting your mouths in a feverish kiss.

You clutched at him anywhere you could, moaning against his lips. His teeth clashed with yours, your tongues dancing together in a familiar waltz of passion.

Leon hummed contently, reveling the taste of you on his tastebuds. You pulled back for air, panting softly while you cupped his cheek, smiling at him with your puffy lips. He cupped your chin and slightly turned your head towards him.

"You are the image of divinity." He said quietly, pupils blown, as if he were in a trance, caught in your spell.

Heat crawled up your neck onto your cheeks, dozens of butterflies hatching from their cocoons in the pit of your stomach.

"You flatter me far too much, my sweet." You chuckled, placing a soft kiss to his lips.

Leon groaned softly, the grip on your chin tightening slightly.

"There's no such thing." He smirked, snaking a hand up to the middle of your back and pressing you further into him.

Your playful eyeroll and any witty remark you would've made was cut short as his head dipped down to run his hot tongue over the curve of your breasts, pressing sloppy kisses to your soft skin.

A gasp caught in your throat, your hand flying to the back of his head to keep him right where he was. Soft moans and sighs fell from your lips while Leon gently sucked and licked your flesh.

The squealed when his teeth nipped at your tits, pulling him back with a firm grip on his hair.

"No marks, my love. You can't leave any- not now." You panted, your chest heaving.

Leon made a displeased sound, something akin to soft growl, before he looked back up at you.

"Later?"

You nodded hastily.

"When we get back, I'll gladly be your canvas. But I cannot show my face at such an event with lovebites all over my décolletage." You chuckled, resting your forehead against his.

He huffed, amused, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"I suppose you're right." He muttered, chasing your mouth for another kiss.

You moaned when you felt his hard cock through the fabric of his pants. Leon groaned, quickly helping you to straddle his lap.

The many layers of your gown were hiked up to your wide hips, draping across the entirety of his legs, covering them completely.

He reached between your plush thighs, dragging his fingers over your sopping wet slit. You were desperately trying to stay attached to his mouth, not knowing whether you wanted to be devoured whole or if you wanted to be the one to devour him.

Your breath hitched when the rough pads of his fingers caught on your sensitive clit, rubbing at the bundle of nerves. Your hips began moving on their own, craving the euphoric feeling of his fingers on your cunt.

"So wet..." he sighed into your mouth. He pulled away, breathless.

"May I be inside you? Please?" Leon asked, face flushed and chest heaving.

"Yes."

The word tumbled from your lips faster than you could think. He tugged his dick from his breaches and gave it a few strokes, your slick lubricating him perfectly.

The head of his cock nudged your hole, sending a spark up your spine, a whine ripping from your throat.

"Are you sure you want this, my pearl?" Leon asked softly, trying his best, but failing, to hide the desperate strain in his voice.

"If you do not get inside of me right this second-"

you began with a huff, cutting yourself off by kissing him once again.

He was startled, chuckling into your mouth before finally sinking inside of you. You mewled against eachother at the familiar feeling.

With a heavy fog of pleasure clouding your senses, you began moving, even just to hear that gasp that fell from Leon's lips just a moment later.

His hands gripped your hips to help you move but also to steady you. The carriage ride was rough and jolty, making you bounce on his lap.

Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck as you cried out for him, the coil of bliss in your belly tightening.

"Oh, Gods, yes-!" You moaned, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

Leon was lost in pleasure as much as you were, groans and grunts ripping from his throat. You moved your hips up and down, back and forth, needing to feel every ridge and vein of his cock against your velveteen walls.

His thumb found its way between your bodies and your petticoats to rub at your clit just how you liked.

You melted at the sensation, a string of moans leaving you. Leon continued to move you up and down his dick, gently kissing your cheek. The dull ache in your thighs made you pause, simply sitting on him to take a breather.

He admired you, stroking his thumb along your jaw. The vessel was still shaking, hitting a rock or an uneven part of the road as you jolted in his lap, forcing his cock even deeper.

You yelped and fell against him, a high-pitched, strangled noise similar to mewl tumbling from your lips. Leon snorted, followed by a quick cackle.

"Oh, shut it!" You scolded, hitting his shoulder.

"Yes, Ma'am." He purred, shutting you up with another hungry kiss.

He began moving you again, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. His thumb stayed on your clit, his tongue licking into your mouth.

You gasped against his lips when the coil in your stomach kept on tightening. Leon pulled away from you to take a look at your face.

"Are you close?" He asked, panting, a hand cupping the back of your head.

You nodded quickly.

"Mhm-"

Leon leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

"Unravel for me, my darling. Come undone around me and sing your symphonies of bliss, my sweet songbird."

His whisper was sultry, however the strain and shake in his tone betrayed him.

You felt him twitch inside you, and with a last rock of the carriage and his thumb on your bundle of nerves, the coil snapped, and you came around him.

Your cunt clenched, gripping him like a vice. Your hands clutched him just as tightly while a moan of your name left him and he spilled inside of you, filling you up.

Your head fell to his shoulder, the euphoria of your high pumping in your veins. Your chests were heaving in sync, your bodies lax against one another. Leon pressed a kiss to your sweaty temple, fully wrapping his arms around you.

"Must we go to this ball?" You mumbled, your eyes falling shut.

He chuckled softly.

"I recall you being the one who insisted on dragging me out here."

You groaned but managed to sit yourself upright, only slightly whining at the feeling of his softening cock inside you. Your foreheads rested against eachother, a comfortable silence between the both of you.

"I hope you know that I'm utterly in love with you." Leon spoke quietly, not wanting to disturb such a peaceful moment.

You smiled, meeting his gaze.

"And I hope you know that you're the blood in my veins, the air I breathe, what gives me life." You replied softly, your hand cradling his face.

He smiled at you softly, his eyes filled with adoration.

"I love you, my Duchess."

"As do I, my Duke."

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Ah, yes.

Shit like this makes my heart and my pussy cry-

Anywayyyyy

I'm back!!! I think.... I just needed a break from the world for a little bit.

I can't promise I'll be posting a lot bc I'm fucking exhausted, but my goal is to be more active on here again (maybe accept some X-mas requests?👀)

Let me know what you think of Renaissance!Leon! 🩷

Where would you have a lil romp with him?

More Leon and others -> 💫

《Taglist》: @k-fallingstar @dmitriene @vampkennedy @allysunny @withonly-sweetheart @entr4p3 @leonslittlekennedy

Lmk if you want to be added <3

[rageserenity]

It's 2024. Are you still thinking about movieverse!Cherik? Because I am.

For the past several months, there's only been a very slow trickle of posts/fics in the xmcu cherik tag. Let's try to breathe some life back into this incredible pairing!

With one clear winner of my poll, here's thirty prompts for the thirty days of April. (This is a super chill, laid-back event---do these in any order, interpret them as loosely as you like! Create in any medium! Fic, art, gifs, meta, incoherent screaming about the otp…all winners in my book.)

The only rule here is to cherik too close to the sun. Alright. Here are the prompts.

Mutual Pining

Doesn't really even need elaboration! Write that horrifically slow slow-burn. Gif every time McAvoy made insane fuck me eyes on screen. Make a playlist of songs about impossible love.

2. Alternate Meetings

There are endless quotes about how these two complete each other in a way no one they'd met before or after ever did. How else could they have met?

3. Erik Has A Telepathy Kink

This is basically canon. Let my boy get freaky!

4. Canon Fix-It

All the times Fox fucked it up. There are endless options.

5. Hurt/Comfort

Put them in that Situation. Put them in that Blender. Break them apart and put them back together ❤️‍🩹

6. Canon Compliant

Draw that missing scene! Gif your favourite cherik moment!

7. Beach Divorce

Make it worse. Make it better. Show it to us exactly how it was. Break it down in a 3,000 word meta. Go wild!

8. Domestics

Sometimes you just want to see them doing normal couple things. Erik put the gun down.

9. Found Family

The real heart of x-men!

10. Time Travel

There are SO many possibilities here. Stick them in a time loop. Give them a chance to change their past.

11. AU

Love a good AU!

12. There Is Only One Bed

Had to get this one in here. What better way to amp up the tension?

13. Genosha

By some miracle, cherik actually did end up together at the end of 2019s trash bag disaster Dark Phoenix. We aren’t making a big enough deal about this.

14. Declaration(s) of Love

Who says it first? How do they say it and when? Have they said it…without saying it?

15. Jealousy

Need I say more.

16. Reunion

These two have absolutely no chill.

17. Soulmates

Classic prompt, had to get this in here too.

18. The DOFP Aircraft

The TENSION here. Break it down for me. How does Charles feel about his injury? How does Erik feel about his injury?

19. Gay Mutant Road Trip

You already know.

20. Body Swap

SO fun when people have superpowers.

21. First Kiss

When? How? Who initiated it?

22. The Mansion

Mansion!content is a genre of its own.

23. Conflicting Ideology

Give me your theses. Who’s right? Can they ever reconcile completely? Write a fic where it drives them apart.

24. Sebastian Shaw

A trope unto himself.

25. Team As Matchmaker

They had to have known something was going on, didn’t they?

26. Cooking

Charles deserves a good meal. Also, imagine Erik using his powers in the kitchen. The sheer domesticity…

27. Hurt No Comfort

Plenty of scope with these two 🥲

28. Growing Old Together

Giving Sirs Ian Mckellan and Patrick Stewart their props as well!

29. Making Up

*pushes chess board across the table* sorry babe

30. Charles Xavier Did More For Mutants Than You'll Ever Know

Rising to each other’s defense. Only I can insult this man.

I will be tracking #revivecherik to reblog stuff! Here’s a fic collection for the same. Let’s get this ball rolling! Please feel free to send me an ask if you’ve got anything to say! And most importantly, let’s all have fun 😁

*I know a few of you preferred something like a gift exchange because of the commitment factor—I’m super down to organise a tiny one for the handful of us! If this promptathon doesn’t flop horribly, we can hopefully do a whole bunch of stuff :)

If you read this post all the way through, please reblog for reach! Thank you! Hoping you participate come April.

Shoutout to @inmymagnetoera for reaching out and helping with this!

[oh-no-its-bird]

Wanna fic where it's like, one of those "Obito came back to Konoha + Rin never died so team 7 is all together as adults" fics

But yk, having avoided mountains of irreversible trauma that would shape him into the slack off bitch boy we know and love in canon, Kakashi is still super up tight and bitchy ab rules n stuff

And the fic itself is Rin and Obito trying various methods to get him to relax (with the end goal of the fic being to somehow shape this Kakashi into the Kakashi we know and love from canon, but like, trying to do that WITHOUT the death and trauma)

Just silly fluffy fun times as Rin and Obito do their best to get Kakashi to loosen up a bit, probably only winding him up more and more through their efforts

They try to get him to get a hobby, like knitting or reading. Only the first book he picks up happens to be a really raunchy romance and Obito's tiny virgin loser mind can't handle it and immediatley declares the whole thing a bust, slaps the book out of Kakashi's hand, and drags him away

They try to get him to smoke. Bad idea, he's wired like a dog so it's like times 10, lasts way longer than it should, and makes him super twitchy/paranoid.

They try to convince him to go to therapy— and when he obviously says no, tries to trick him into having an impromptu therapy lesson w THEM. Which almost works at first but then he looks up from his heartfelt speech and goes "are you FUCKING writing this down rn" and Rin very guiltily puts the diagnosis notebook away

So at first, it's all done in good fun and good faith, and Kakashi even agrees to go along with it a bit bc like, why not. They have a point.

But as each method fails, Obito and Rin get even more into it / weird ab it, and Kakashi gets progressively more and more done with this— till it's basically turned into Rin and Obito competing with themselves/eachother to see who can manage to "fix" Kakashi

(Kakashi is climbing out the fucking window and booking it into the woods)

Kakashi keeps trying to hide behind Gai, only for Gai to turn around and BETRAY him by saying Rin and Obito might have a point ab him needing to try and relax a bit (not the fixing bit tho, wtf guys)

Kakashi ends up hiding in Genma's house bc Genma isn't invested enough in this to comment on the situation

In the end ofc Rin and Obito realize they've gone too far and apologize profusely, and the entire event of having to dodge Obito and Rin's insane efforts have helped simulate the terrible trauma Kakashi missed out on, so he's like. A LITTLE more relaxed. A little. But only bc hes so immune to bullshit now that he just kinda blinks sleepily through it (like he did after Rin and Obito put his entire bed into the middle of a lake while he was sleeping in an effort to show him how to "roll with the unexpected")

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Not That Kind of Guy

Part Three: Stalker!Anakin Skywalker × femme reader series

Warnings: stalking, weirdo behavior, psychotic/delusional behavior, possessive/protective, sexism/misogyny, one-sided relationship, menstruation, sexual content, pervy behavior, male masturbation, murder, serious illness, needles [eventual warning for smut; be sure to pay attention to future warnings in the series]

Info: Anakin loves you SO much that he’s disgusting about it. He’s extra delusional. Anakin doesn’t love drama HE IS the drama. He's still a massive Perv [diary entries from Ani] MDNI 18+

Diary Entry: June 27th

I came to the diner tonight, I love to see you wait tables. You’re so kind and sweet, even to the assholes and shitheads that don’t deserve to breathe your air. Your beautiful smile, those pretty eyes and how you bat those long lashes, that bell-like giggle you pull for those nasty old men’s jokes.

I know it’s not real, but it’s fun to watch you pretend baby. And just as fun to listen to your annoyed retelling of your night when you get home. Gods I could just listen to you talk for hours. Watching your face change as you speak, the acute movements of your eyebrows and lips that tell me how you really feel.

You’re just like me, more than you know.

I ordered some coffee, sat at the bar one of those red spin-y stools, and listened to your sweet lilt tell lie after lie to your customers.

You’re a busy, busy girl aren’t you princess?

Sorry for the messy writing, it was difficult not to laugh as I wrote these little white lies of yours.

1. Saving up money for a car: true, but doesn’t get you good tips

2. This is your second job and life on your own is just real hard: I’m amazed that this one works as well as it does, really pulling on those old lady heartstrings huh?

3. ‘Sorry guys, I’m just- having a hard day. You understand right?’ *sniffle* the only thing those guys understand is the masculine urge to stop a girl from crying and if shoving a few extra bills under their dirty plate makes your day ‘better’, they’re gonna do it.

I don’t know how you continue to use that one on those poor fools, it’s always the same few guys too. They really think you’re something special huh?

You are of course, very special. But they don’t know you like I do. They don’t know that you’re full of shit. I know for a fact you had a really good day. I was there.

You cheeky little minx.

4. Your mom is out of work and you’re helping her out: your mom is out of work, but you’re definitely not helping her out. She wouldn’t take your money if you offered it. (You wouldn’t offer it over your dead body.)

Can’t blame you for this little lie though, your mom really is a piece of shit. Exploit that bitch all you want, she deserves it. I’ve seen those nasty posts she made about your friend. All that because he’s gay?

Oh no! It’s contagious! It’s the vaccines! Gluten!

Come on lady, it’s 2023.

5. you’re getting married! I fucking wish. But, not yet princess, you won’t need to worry about anything when it’s time for that. Thats what I’m here for, I’ll make sure you get everything you want.

6. ‘It’s on the house honey.’ I was so jealous hearing this one for the first time. You’re just absolutely rotten aren’t you? Refills are free.

You’re perfect for me and you don’t even know it.

Diary Entry: June 28th

Angelic. Cherubic. God-kin.

A biblical beauty if I’ve ever seen one.

The way your hair creates a halo around your face. Tendrils gracing the soft contours of your cheeks, the twitch of your nose when you shift just alittle too much and a strand tickles it. The subtle pull or purse of your lips that tells me you’re deep in the land of dreaming.

Sleep is one of the most basic human needs. It’s not meant to be as glorified as you make it, but somehow you do.

It’s intimate. They way your breathing slows and your body melts into the soft hands of sleep. It’s an event that I’ve been graciously given the opportunity to witness.

It was so, so, so worth waiting for.

SleepyTime Tea, a cute name and of course perfect for my purposes. You drank a cup almost every night. It’d been on my mind for a while and I figured… it couldn’t hurt to open it up and help you get an even better sleep.

Now that I’ve had the privilege of seeing an angel at rest… well I don’t think I could ever witness anything more breathtaking.

Except for maybe your sweet little pussy.

I checked and double checked the measurements on those sleeping pills I promise. I would never ever hurt you sweetheart. I was so anxious, trying to make sure I got the mixture perfect.

It worked like a dream. Didn’t it?

Damn right it did. Worked well enough that I was able to tuck your hair behind your ear and kiss your forehead before I left.

I also did you a little favor or two as well while I was there. It wasn’t a completely selfish visit.

I replaced an old beat up scrunchie, it was past time for you to retire it in my opinion. Now it’s serving a better purpose: squeezing the base of my cock while I fuck my fist to the sounds of your desperate moans, both of us needy for a never quite satisfying finish. If only I had the courage to open that door.

You need a man sweetheart. You need me. Those toys of yours just don’t hit the spot for you do they? Hurts my heart that it takes you so long… and I know it’s not on purpose. I can tell the difference.

Nothin’ can mimic that sinful feel of flesh on flesh.

I took out your bathroom trash, I know you hate doing that. And maybe I accidentally knocked your toothbrush off the sink.

Sue me.

But I promptly rectified the issue, I just so happened to notice you were out of brush-head refills a few days ago and came prepared. You’re welcome baby.

I also purchased the same brand of brush that you have.

Reduce, reuse, recycle.

Date:

June 29th

You woke up, rolling out of bed at 9:30. An absolutely ridiculous time to be awake on what was meant to be a lazy stay at home day. But alas, you are a good friend, and good friends go through with their plans.

Even if you made those plans a month ago and completely forgot them.

Your cat laced it’s way through your legs while you stood on unsteady feet. You’ve really gotta stop with the caffeine, it’s definitely not normal for someone as young as you to wake up with the shakes. But you’re a creature of habit and an absurd amount of sugar and caffeine were included in those habits.

Staying true to those habits you made your way to the bathroom across the hall, absentmindedly grasping at air for a few seconds before realizing your toothbrush wasn’t where you always left it. With a frustrated groan you looked around and saw that someone… or rather something had knocked it into the floor.

“Boogie!” You turned around and made your way to the living room, interrupting her morning routine by scooping her up and forcing her to face the music.

“How dare you.” You whispered, trying to pull out a stern voice. “I don’t have any new tooth brush heads. What am I supposed to do you little shit?”

You bent down, picked it up and popped the replaceable head off, tossing it into the… empty trash can? When did you take out the trash?

Whatever. Focus. “You better hope I have a spare regular one.” You shot a nasty glare at your cat who sat unbothered on the bathroom counter.

You searched through the cabinet below the sink and through all the drawers and found none. Not even that travel one from last year’s vacation. Finally you opened up the medicine cabinet-mirror combo and was pleasantly surprised but also annoyed, to see that you did actually have a replacement.

“Well shit.” You scoffed, “I should’ve just checked there first.”

Next on the list was a giant tumbler of coffee and a hit of your vape for breakfast. Delicious.

You searched in the catch-all drawer in your kitchen for a hair band, not finding any of the small black ones you settled for a stray scrunchie that lived in this drawer specifically for circumstances like this.

Grabbing the light blue silk scrunchie you went to slide it on your wrist and gather your hair but stopped mid movement. No sharpie mark. You could’ve sworn last time you wore this it had a sharpie mark on it from being trapped in the drawer with a cap-less marker. Weird, but not weird enough to care about.

With your caffeine withdrawal taken care of and your morning duties finished, you slipped on some tennis shoes, grabbed your small backpack and walked to the gym two blocks away. Your wonderful and lovely, much more active friend had invited you to a yoga class to meet ‘someone who isn’t a lazy bastard’.

Which… doesn’t really make any sense considering your last boyfriend liked to lift weights but couldn’t bear to lift a finger to help you.

But you love Luke, and Luke loves to play matchmaker. So you’d suffer through this with a smile. It couldn’t hurt and it might be fun, if all else fails at least you got to hang out with your friend and giggle at him drooling over the ‘guy with this sexy scowl, big broad shoulders, oh my god he’s so soft but like in a buff way it’s insane.’.

“Lukey!” You jogged up to him where he was waiting for you outside the gym.

“You’re late.” He stated sternly despite the little smile curving his lip.

“No I’m not. It’s 10:20.” You scoffed.

“Yes and class starts at 10:30.” He retorted.

“I’m not sure if you know this, but 20 comes before 30.” You said feigning concern as you touched his forearm while walking inside.

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, “I mean you’re late to meet this guy I was telling you about!”

He shoved you gently past the various equipment and to a smaller room with mirrors along one wall. He very conspicuously pointed toward a younger guy with… a mullet?

“You’re joking.” You gasped. “Luke I swear to god you’ve gotta be kidding.” You squeaked smacking his arm.

“What?!” He squealed, pulling his arms up to his chest and curling in on himself. “Stop I didn’t invite you to kickboxing! Ow!”

“A dude with a mullet?” You glared at him.

“Wait till he turns around, the mullet will be forgiven I swear.” He said, holding up his hands in an offering of peace.

That peace treaty was immediately ripped to shreds when Luke loudly dropped his metal water bottle on the hard floors, a smile that could beat the devil’s smirk on his face.

The guy whipped his head around, eyebrows raised in concern, soft greenish tinted blue eyes taking a moment to glance over you.

“Everything alright?” He asked, a soft accent lacing his voice as he walked over to you.

Is it strange to say that a man with a mullet is… graceful? Yes, it is.

“Oh yeah, everything is fine.” You answered quickly, not missing the snicker that Luke made when he kicked the water bottle over to you.

You bent down and picked it up, holding it with a grip that would surely snap your officially ex-best friends neck in half.

“Here let me take this for you.” The blonde haired stranger said, reaching out for your backpack and for some reason you let him take it.

He just… exuded a calming energy. No wonder he likes yoga, he’s probably the most zen person you’ve ever met. Everything about him was soft and comforting. His voice, his beard, even his knuckles as they ghosted across your arm when he grabbed your bag.

“Th-thanks?“ You said in a statement that sounded more like a confused inquiry.

You followed him and Luke inside, the blood draining from your formerly flushed cheeks when he unrolled your yoga mat in the front row. What kind of cosmic curse has Luke unleashed? You shot him a look to burn through brick but he just seemed giddy as if you weren’t planning on disposing him in the sewer after this.

“I’m Ben, your instructor. Luke told me you’d be coming today, he mentioned you’ve never taken a class like this before?” He looked over at you, an understanding smile on his face.

THE INSTRUCTOR?

“R-right yeah. No, I’ve never taken a yoga class before.” You shook your head and introduced yourself in return, holding out your hand for a hand shake and being utterly shocked at Ben’s reaction.

“I’m a hugger, hope that’s alright darling.” He laughed softly, enveloping you in a warm embrace that could smelt iron. It certainly made you malleable, maybe even alittle bit melty.

The kicker though? A kiss to the side of your mouth.

You blinked at the audacity, did he just-? But as he pulled back you realized it wasn’t a creepy thing… it was a friendly thing. He just greets everyone that way because he’s a genuinely kind person. You knew that to be true because he turned and did the same to Luke, ending his with a firm pat to his shoulder.

A little green monster clawed it’s way through your stomach at the sight, but you drowned it quickly with the use of your knowledge as a sane person. You don’t know this guy. Luke brought you here because of this guy, he’s not after him, he’s after Beefy McBeef in the corner. You don’t know him, you’re purely getting jealous going off the fact that he is pretty and the realization that you’re not special.

You spent the rest of your time thinking peaceful thoughts to chase away the images of Luke’s tiny pea brain being squished betwixt your fingers for this horrible idea of his, while failing many attempts to mimic the variety of poses and stances Ben showed the class.

Even Beefy McBeef was doing better than you, and you could definitely see why Luke had his sights set on him. Masculine, but not in an intimidating way. He’s right, he’s soft but buff.

After class ended Luke insisted on dragging you over to Ben to say goodbye.

“Thanks, I enjoyed the class.” You said awkwardly, forcing a polite smile.

“Oh I’m so glad, I was hoping you would.” Ben said, a bright smile on his face, his eyes crinkling in the corners.

“I’d love for you to come back next week.” He said sincerely, reaching out to give your arm a gentle squeeze that made your mouth dry.

“I’m not super sure that yoga is my thing, but I’ll definitely think about it.” You smiled, surely he’s just being nice. Like he was earlier.

“Well if yoga isn’t your thing, I’m sure we can find something that is, hmm?” He chuckled, ripping a scrap of paper from his class schedule and scribbling his number down.

“O-oh.” You blushed. That was the smoothest pickup line you’d ever heard… you couldn’t even be mad about it. “Thank you, I’ll… text you later?” You said unsure about your own words.

“No rush darling,” he gave you a warm smile that matched the softness of his hand that took yours and pressed his lips to your knuckles.

When he pulled back he’d somehow snuck the slip of paper into the palm of your hand, he left you there buffering. You turned slowly to look at Luke who was standing there with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Your turn.” You said sternly, nodding toward Mr. McBeef.

“No.” Luke said with an air of finality, scooping up his bag and spinning on his heel toward a few of his class friends.

Luke so kindly helped you make a fool of yourself. It’s only fair that you return the favor. You marched over to Beefy with a sweet smile.

“Hey!” You said, introducing yourself to him.

“Hey little lady.” He chuckled, taking your hand for a handshake, his palm dwarfing yours. “Names Han.”

“Han. Suits you.” You added with a small smile.

“So, Han. You know Luke?” You said, nodding in his direction.

“Y-yeah I do,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck with a nervousness you didn’t expect. “Why?”

“Luke is- he’s alittle shy.” You said in a hushed tone. “He’s been talking about you an awful lot.”

“Me?” Han questioned, a downturned grin creeping up his lips as his eyes darted between you and your friend who’d migrated across the gym.

“Yeah, you.” You laughed, “he’s got a massive crush.” You gave him an accomplished grin.

“H-he does?” He gulped, starting to get red in the cheeks. “He’s hardly ever spoken to me.”

“Like I said, he’s shy.” You reminded him gently. “You should go talk to him.”

“Yeah… I will.” He smiled, standing up and placing a kind hand on your shoulder.

“Go get ‘em Beefy McBeef.” You said in a tone so normal that he almost didn’t notice.

“What did you call me?” He laughed.

“Beefy McBeef.” You shrugged, unable to hide your devious smile. “that’s what Luke calls you.”

“No he doesn’t.” Han laughed, big and hearty, Luke turning his head with a jealous scowl until he realized he was laughing with you and it morphed into a mask of pure panic.

“Oh yes he does.” You said firmly. “Can you do me a favor?” You asked.

“Sure babe.” He laughed, still recovering.

“Introduce yourself to him as Beefy McBeef.” You said with pleading eyes.

“Seriously?” He laughed, almost a giggle if you could consider a guy like him a giggler. “What’d he do to you?”

“Just trust me when I say he deserves it.” You said sincerely.

“Can do.” He shook his head with a snort and made his way over to Luke.

“Hey, Luke.” He said, a slight tease in his tone. “Just wanted to introduce myself.” He stuck out his hand and watched with amusement as Luke struggled to comprehend what was happening.

Good. You thought. He deserves alittle embarrassment after the way he forced you into conversation with Ben.

“Beefy McBeef.” Han said, struggling to contain his laughter as he shook Luke’s hand. “Pleasure to meet you.”

You watched from behind a nearby pillar as Luke turned fire truck red. He frantically searched for you until he spotted you with a massive grin and waggling fingers.

“I’ll kill you.” He threatened but there was no real malice in his voice.

“Sure you will Lukey.” You said with a laugh, running over to the wall where you’d propped up your bag and tossed it over your shoulder. Blowing Luke a kiss as you walked out of the gym.

After returning home you showered and sat down on the couch, resigning yourself to rotting on the couch. You’d done your good deed for the day, two actually:

1. attending a social event

2. helping Lukey talk to Han

You’d also done your one terrible deed for next few months. It’s never intentional that you do something bad, except this time it was. But was it really all that terrible if it got Luke what he wanted? Nope.

Add that to the good deeds list then.

3. embarrassing Lukey while helping him talk to Han

All’s fair in love and war.

Speaking of potential love and possible war, you rummaged through your bag to fish out that phone number, you even dumped out all the contents and searched your clothes as well.

It was no where to be found and you were actually kind of bummed about it. You can’t go ask for his number after all that, that’s just… embarrassing.

Shit.

Diary Entry: June 29th

Sweetheart.

If I knew you didn’t love Lukey, I’d have been scraping him off the sidewalk right about now. That little twerp was trying to set you up with someone else.

I know it’s not his fault. He’s being a good friend, he just wants you to be happy. He doesn’t know about me and that’s okay, it’s all okay.

But god, could he have picked a worse guy? I mean… really?

*Ooh look at me and my beautiful luscious locks.* GAG.

I could tell he was making you uncomfortable so I got rid of that little paper as quickly as possible. I would’ve hated for you to have the reminder of that fucking creep. The way he kissed your hand? What the hell was that?

So, I slipped it out of your bag and stayed around to listen to your sinister revenge plot.

I’ll say it again baby, you’re more like me than you know.

Ps. Beefy McBeef? Please.

Diary Entry: July 1st

I’m not an unreasonable guy baby. Really I’m not, but you’re on your phone so much. It just really bugs me you know? We don’t spend quality time together like we should.

I want you to dance around and sing. I want you to lay in the living room floor and color. I to watch you suck ass at MarioKart and laugh when you get frustrated and scrunch your nose.

I want to watch you read so I can read aloud to you, with my e-book copy. I want to watch The Witcher with you, I love that show. Shits cool as fuck, sword fights are so awesome I’ll ignore the fact that you only watch it for Geralt.

He’s not real and I am. So fuck it, can’t hurt to fantasize. I’d be one hell of a hypocrite if I said you couldn’t.

Anyway, sorry I’m rambling.

Are you okay? You’re just… quieter. Is it something I’ve done?

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

I think I’ve figured it out sweet girl, I did some online research and replayed some footage. You’ve not been taking your birth control like you should. Come on baby you gotta remember to take it on time alright? Skipping it and taking it out of routine will mess you all up and we can’t have that.

I’ll try my best to remind you.

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

You know me, I’m always worried.

Just… I’m gonna need to borrow your phone so that I can install some software for you. I’m just alittle concern that you’re hiding something from me princess. I just want to make sure you’re okay.

Diary Entry: July 2nd

That SleepyTime tea is a lifesaver.

God I just feel so relieved knowing that I can monitor you. I swear it’s not in a weird way, I just needed to make sure you were in a good headspace you know?

Your search history is so funny. I makes me happy to know you’re just as goofy as me. It also makes me happy that you’ve not searched anything concerning.

Your socials are clean. Your camera roll is full of cute pictures of you and your friends, as well as a few of your ex that I swiftly trashed for you. Maybe just a few naughty ones in the hidden album, don’t worry I didn’t stare. I’ll have plenty of time to do that in person.

Your texts are mostly dry. That’s a good thing though, that means you have more time for me. Even better? No dating apps. Good girl. Those are terribly dangerous, they should require a background check for users, you never know what kind of weirdo is on the other side of that screen.

I’m proud of you babydoll. You’re such a good girl, my good girl.

I’ll help you stay a good girl too. Your phone is mirrored to my laptop, so I’ll be able to see everything you see. No room for mix-ups or miscommunications between us this way.

Communication in relationships is so important.

Which is my reasoning behind the new phone software. You understand don’t you doll? I mean, I can only tell so much from your diary. You like to write and that’s amazing, it’s a great outlet and you should keep up with it. You’re the reason I started my own journal. You were so right when you said ‘it sorts my thoughts and soothes my heart’.

I never thought I’d be a journal guy. Look at me. Self care king.

Diary Entry: July 3rd

I have the most amazing news princess, after careful research and a very thorough deep dive into all of your neighbors, I’ve come up with the perfect solution to our distance issue.

Did you know that the old man across the hall from you is a widow? Poor guy, 10 years without his wife. They were married for 53 years. 53.

That’s the goal baby. That’s the kind of love I have for you.

If Alan Jared Nelson is anything like me, he’s miserable without Gloria Anne. Just like I’d be miserable without you.

He’s sick you know? He’s on a wait list for a liver, has been for 2 years. Isn’t that just the worst kind of hope? It’s cruel really.

Why give the man and his remaining family the hope of a ‘few’ more years, knowing damn well the guy is old enough that he might turn to dust they minute they cut into him. Why put him on the list at all? He’s 92. No one is giving him a liver.

The liver disease he’s diagnosed with is a doozy too, it’s aggressive, painful, and necrotic. He’s in constant pain. He’s got a port for morphine.

Do you know what kind of horrible pain a person has to be in to get a morphine port? Excruciating.

Alan has lived a long and beautiful life. Between the heartache of loosing his love and the debilitating disease he suffers from… it would be a mercy to lay him to rest don’t you think?

He’s a patriot through and through, he was in the army reserves. Now, that’s not my cup of tea but good for you Mr. Nelson.

America’s birthday is a good day for a guy like him to die isn’t it?

Date:

July 4th

Anakin counted the windows over and over, repeating the number in his head as he quietly trekked up the creaking rusted fire escape on Mr. Nelson’s side of the building. Not only was tonight a poetic release of this man’s long and happy existence, it was a very good cover.

Majority of the city was busy watching the fireworks at the celebration in the park, including you. Anakin had ensured you’d left before he even considered walking over to your building. He couldn’t bear the thought of committing a heinous, though arguably merciful, crime in the vicinity of such a pure form of radiance.

As expected the din of booming explosions and crackling sparks masked the noise of the quiet power drill Anakin used to remove bottom piece of the outer frame of the out-dated window. Internally cursing the fact that you lived in such an old building, there’s absolutely no way that these windows are up to code. It might make this task easier, but it made him a nervous wreck to think someone could break into your home in under a minute as long as they brought a drill and a magnet. The process was almost silent, you wouldn’t realize anything was amiss until it was too late.

Once the piece of frame was laid aside Anakin used the heavy duty magnet to coax the loose curved clasp that held the window shut, out of the hoop that it rested in. He sighed, thinking he should definitely complain to the super once he moved in. The ease of breaking and entering wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

Sure it was a wonderful thing for Anakin, there would be absolutely no trace of the break in. The man is old, there would be no autopsy, there are no outdoor cameras on this building or the one next to it. This unit is tucked into a well hidden alleyway and no one saw him walk this way. But his worries were based on thoughts of you and your well-being.

Anakin sprayed Wd-40 along the tracks of the metallic frame and waited a moment before wiping off the excess, hopefully ensuring a silent entry.

The moment of truth arrived, Anakin lifted the window just a hair to test it. Finding it whisper quiet despite its age as he opened it and stepped inside.

The interior of the home was just as you’d expect, family pictures, a fridge covered in cards and handwritten reminders. An obscene amount of carved wooden trinkets and the forever mysterious wooden fruit that seemed to adorn the tables of many an old folks homes. Apples and roosters strewn about the space in the form of paintings, lampshades and oddly detailed itchy blankets.

A gorgeous abalone jewelry dish held a silver pendant, trapped beneath was an intricate lace cover that seemed to be made specifically for the coffee table they rested on. Upon closer inspection Anakin determined that it was tailor made. Gloria Anne Nelson must’ve been a talented craftswomen, the quality of work was amazing.

Alan’s display of his wife’s work, her jewelry dish and her favorite engraved pendant… he’d made an altar for her and probably didn’t even realize it. He’d even placed a tall, thick white candle next to the abalone dish. It left Anakin with a lump in his throat, imagining the horrible loneliness this man must feel.

He stood up from his crouched position and took a breath, smoothing his shirt to iron out his emotions. There would be time for proper mourning and reflection later.

He walked toward the short hall that housed Alan’s bed room and bathroom, but stopped short when something on the wall caught his attention.

A calendar depicting a summertime scene of a lake and a small fishing boat was tacked to the wall above the dock for his home phone, a small note pad and pen resting beside it.

A small smile turning the corner of his lip, the sight bringing a fond memory of his grandmother keeping a set-up very similar to this. Must be a universal old person habit.

He stepped closer to read the writing in the small squares and came to the realization that this calendar was not up to date. This calendar was from 2013, ten years ago.

Anakin knew from his deep dive into the Nelson’s life that Gloria had passed on July 16th, but he didn’t realize that July 4th was the anniversary of Gloria and Alan’s first kiss.

She’d kept up with that anniversary for the entirety of 53 years. Poetic.

He took a look around the kitchenette and living room again. Really and truly looking this time, not just glazing over the bigger items, the things that caught his eye. This time he looked at the in between.

He wished he hadn’t. He wished he hadn’t cared enough to pay attention, it was something he’d never forget, an achievement he’d strive for for the rest of his life.

Alan’s home was a shrine.

A neatly kept time capsule full of warmth and fondness. It oozed from the very walls of the space. Gloria had never stepped foot in this space, but she dominated every inch of it. Her devoted husband had rebuilt his life in her image, even in death he worshipped her just as Anakin worshipped you.

A heavy weight settled in Anakin’s heart, this was the right choice. This confirmed it.

He quietly entered the bedroom, Alan’s C-PAP machine humming with a rhythmic flow of air, in, *scish*, *puftk*, out. It was soothing in a strange way, or maybe it was just a relief from the suffocating silence that compressed Anakin’s lungs when he was absorbing the space past the door.

He kneeled at the edge of the bed, pulling a small tube of lidocaine from his jacket hoodie pocket, along with a pair of gloves that he quickly donned. Wincing at the snap of the latex against his sweating palms, but the man continued his peaceful slumber, unaware that it would be his last.

He lifted the corner of the blanket and grimaced as he placed a small dollop of the cream via his index finger between Alan’s fourth and fifth toes. He didn’t even flinch.

Anakin kept the time on his watch and waited until the ointment did it’s job to numb the tender flesh. Fishing a small needle meant for insulin injections from a ziploc bag in pocket. Drawing a bit of air into barrel before carefully pricking the soft skin, holding his breath as his victim twitched.

When he stilled Anakin gently pushed the plunger and created a pocket of air in a vein that would soon end this poor souls life on earth. He withdrew the needle and stored it and the gloves in the ziploc bag, returning the blanket to its previous position.

He should’ve left then, but morbid curiosity had a tight hand around his wrist. Urging him to stay and wait out this event to its completion. So he tugged up his hood and stood motionless.

No one should be alone in their last moments. The least Anakin could do is provide silent support from the darkened corner. He counted the seconds on his watch until the man’s fingers twitched and his throat visibly tightened as a gurgled ball of air left his lungs. His eyes opened, wide and terrified as his body acted of its on volition.

Wrinkled hands weakly pawing at the C-PAP that was fitted over his head, Anakin watched his chest heave and collapse rapidly, the swell of his ribcage caving in on itself with each labored breath.

He’d heard of the ‘death rattle’ before but had never considered it to be anything other than a wives tale, until now. Alan’s choked coughs and gasping breaths reverberated in his chest and rolled up the stretch of his esophagus, coming out in a groan muffled by his lolled tongue.

He brought his fist to his chest in weak thumps, while his other reached over the side of the bed in the general vicinity of the night stand. It’s incredible what the human brain is capable of during such critical moments of stress. Anakin watch with a fascination that went beyond curiosity, wondering how the hell this guy was aware enough to try to grab the phone laying there.

Alan let his head fall to the side and his fading eyes blurred, but didn’t miss Anakin’s figure. To him, he was just a silhouette of midnight black. For some reason Anakin noticed a bit of the fear leave Alan’s tired eyes, softening as though he was accepting his quickly approaching end.

He stopped struggling, stopped reaching for the phone and instead held out a shaking hand to Anakin as though he wanted him to take it.

What kind of monster would deny a dying man?

He stepped forward on silent feet until he clasped the man’s wrist and felt his weak grip on his. The leathery skin was clammy, sickly to the touch and it made Anakin’s stomach churn.

“Death?” A small creaking attempt at the word eeked out of Alan’s lips.

“Yes sir.” Anakin responded. Was it true? No. But was it a lie? Also no. He was and he wasn’t.

“A-about…” the old man heaved, spittle flying from his mouth. “About damn time.”

Anakin was usually quick on his feet with his quips but this man’s nonchalant attitude, his welcoming of his fate was unexpected.

“Sorry Mr. Nelson.” He chuckled. “I’m a very busy man.”

He laughed. A rare occasion if not the only occasion that someone’s dying breath was a laugh. Anakin’s brow pinched together, wetting his lips with his tongue before chewing the inside of his cheek as he watched the life drain from his eyes.

Once his hand went slack and limp Anakin gently laid it across his chest, checked for a pulse and found none. He patted the old man’s shoulder and turned to exit the room, he didn’t look back and he didn’t take another breath until he set foot on the fire escape and the window was shut. Making quick work of closing the clasp and reassembling the metal frame.

He took a shaky breath and checked his watch. Bewildered by the passing of time. He literally couldn’t comprehend it, pulling out his phone to confirm. The times were indeed matching.

Three minutes and 57 seconds.

He was only inside for three minutes and 57 seconds. He felt like hours of his life had flown by, he felt both aged and more alive than he’d ever been. The only thing he could compare this feeling to was… the feeling he got because of you.

He’d done a good thing.

Alan said so himself, the man was ready, beyond ready to embrace death. Anakin had done him a favor by taking his life returning his soul to his soulmate.

It gave him a warm feeling in his chest. He thought maybe he would feel sick, he almost did, until he didn’t. He decided not to question his contentment, instead pocketing it to tuck away in the recess of his mind that he stored his more unhealthy thoughts and experiences in.

He liked that about himself, his ability to compartmentalize at will. He liked to be neat and tidy, it was only natural that his mind mirror that. He knew that it was just his mind’s creation; his mind didn’t really look like a neat room of filing cabinets.

He had one for childhood memories, one for his favorite happy memories, one for his mother, one for his friends, one for his work life, one for his home life. But the two most important things housed in the confines of his skull were the golden pedestal holding the beautifully crafted, one of a kind ceramic vase he poured his love for you into; and The Pit.

He didn’t like The Pit. His inner self kindly transported the things that belonged there via a lockbox and unceremoniously tossed it over the edge at a safe distance. Even the figment of his imagination in this scenario was too afraid to peer over the edge of the chasm. He’d never heard anything hit the bottom, if he got too close he would fall, and fall, and fall, and fall, and fall for eternity.

Then what would you do? Suffer through a sad existence like poor Mr. Nelson?

No. He can’t let that happen. He won’t let that happen. You’re to precious, too pure, too good to experience anything but radiant joy.

He breathed in relief as he found himself suddenly outside his front door, he’d traveled on autopilot.

He showered and tucked himself into bed, exhausted and drained emotionally. But not too much, not enough that he could neglect his duties. He checked the tracker on his phone, pleaded to see that you were abiding by your unspoken agreed upon curfew. Home before 2:00am. Always.

It was only 12:30. Good job princess.

He waited, following the little blue dot to the larger red one and switched over to the live camera feed and witnessed you chatting happily on your phone as you trotted up the stairs.

He thanked his past self from this morning and grabbed the laptop from his nightstand and patiently waited for the mirror image of your phone updated.

Luke. It was just Luke making sure you got home safe; maybe Luke wasn’t too bad after all. He wasn’t a threat to Anakin in anyway and he was concerned with your well-being. Not as much himself of course but enough that Anakin could throw a smidgen of respect his way, it’s nice to know he already has something in common with your best friend.

He did his routine night-time walk through of your device, seeing that you’d turned on your alarms for the next day already. He smiled fondly, his sleepy girl.

He turned up the sound on your bedroom camera, plugging up his phone and putting the laptop on the night stand. He placed his phone next to his head and listened to your breathing slow and relax.

He loved this. Sleeping with the sound of your soft snores and mumbled sleepy words. It was an intimacy that he craved to manifest into the flesh world.

Soon he would.

Someone please tell me that if you’ve waitressed/known a waitress who’s done shit like that?? If not I just told on myself for being a big fat liar.

Part Four

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